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Updated: May 9, 2025
"I swear by Isis!" implored the mother. "Nay," returned, the messenger gravely, "it is not meet that a Christian should bind any one by a heathen oath." The mother cried out, and besought him, declaring that she would depart from Alexandria, if her sons could not dwell there. "They cannot, except they risk death," stated the messenger "Thou knowest Timokles' life is forfeit.
The leopard moved vehemently. Suddenly the branch cracked so that it swung Timokles against the wall. The leopard's movement sounded like a leap. Timokles was sure that the branch was giving way. He was nearly to the roof. He clutched at it. The mud-covered, rotten mat that he grasped broke through his fingers, and the dust descended into his face. He grasped again, with the same result.
It did not hang parallel with the wall, but stood out a little from it, and Timokles thought that the branch was partly broken, up next the roof. He hardly dared climb much higher for fear of breaking it entirely off. So he lay along the branch, clasping it with his arms, and shut his eyes.
The many painful welts of the lash's stripes stung him with keen pain. "O mother! mother!" Timokles' heart cried silently. Had she indeed lost all love for him, since she had told him she wished he had died rather than become a Christian? "Lord Christ," cried Timokles' breaking heart now, "I have left all for thee!" The company pushed on rapidly.
When the hot hours of the day were past, the caravan again made, ready to go on. The merchant, Pentaur, summoned Timokles, and with condescending good-nature, demanded his history. Timokles told it. "Why shouldest thou be a Christian?" commented Pentaur. "See, we come to-night to Ammonium the oasis. Every camel-step doth lead thee farther toward Carthage! Thou wilt perish there!
They think I am guarding these prisoners safely." "Small time wilt thou spend guarding them, if thou knowest where aught is to drink!" responded Athribis sarcastically. "How much hast thou drank today?" The wearied Timokles slumbered on, regardless of the light and talking. Back in the dark, Heraklas clasped his hands. A mighty sob rose in his throat. The Christian was indeed Timokles!
Carthage doth hate Christians!" Timokles looked into Pentaur's eyes. "Yea, I know that Carthage hateth them," the lad answered. "I heard that four years ago, when the proconsul Saturninus persecuted the Christians; and when a number were brought from the little town of Scillita to Carthage to appear before the tribunal of Saturnin, one man called Speratus spoke frankly and nobly for his brethren.
I render what is due from me, for I acknowledge the emperor as my sovereign; but I can worship none but my Lord, the King of all kings and Ruler of all nations. So were the Christians taken to the place of execution, where they knelt and prayed, and were then beheaded." Timokles' eyes fell. His voice trembled. "O Lord Christ," he added, reverently, "I also would be faithful unto thee!"
As Pentaur, for that moment, thought of the dread hour when, after death, according to Egyptian belief, he should stand before the judgment-seat of Osiris, the camel-rider felt convinced that he would have merl which might stand him in good stead in that ordeal. Little by little, Timokles regained consciousness. He marveled to find himself carried. He had expected to be killed where he fell.
Heraklas cast himself down among the vines, and wept his unavailing tears. Little did the lad, reared in a pagan home, know of the sweetness of the Christian faith, for which Timokles had forsaken all. Heraklas' small sister, the child Cocce, sat on the pavement in the central court of her home in Alexandria. Above her towered three palms that shaded the court.
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