"Thou wilt be heard!"
Heraklas cast his arms about his brother and clung to him.
"How art thou bound, my Timokles?" asked Heraklas, when they had
embraced and wept together.
"My feet are bound with naught but cords, but a chain about my body
fasteneth me to a hook in the wall," answered Timokles. "Thou canst
not release me, my brother! Flee, while thou canst!"
"Nay, but I will try," whispered Heraklas resolutely.
He drew his knife from his girdle, and feeling of the cords that
bound his brother's ankles, cut the knots. Timokles sighed with
relief, as he moved his cramped feet. The feet of two of the other
Christians were bound with thongs, and these Heraklas cut also, but
the other five Christians were bound hand and foot with chains, and
for them Heraklas' knife could not avail. Timokles and the other two
had been considered weaker in body, or else the persons who secured
the Christians had been in haste to join the reveling of the
mariners, and had thought cords strong enough. Yet what availed it
that the feet of any of the Christians were free, if their bodies
were securely bound?
"Thou hast done all thou canst, Heraklas," whispered Timokles. "Go
now, my brother. O my Heraklas, I rejoice thou art a Christian! Go!
We shall meet again in the kingdom of our God!"
"I will never leave thee," answered Heraklas, firmly.
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