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(_From the Journal of John Stowe_) _March 2, 1649_: Lo! Satan is upon
us and his devils do surround us. Trusting in the Lord, however, we
have no fear of them.
Early this morning we awoke to find the enchantment still strong about
us. Whereupon we took counsel together concerning our conduct in this
strait. After several hours of discussion, it was decided that we could
not necessarily be considered remiss in our military duties for not
pushing on to Carlisle when bound and held by devils. This settled, it
remained only to decide on our course of conduct towards these imps of
Satan, and Sergeant Flail-of-the-Lord hath determined this by ordering
that all present be industrious in prayer and considering of the good
works of the Lord.
So it fell out that about the third or fourth hour after sunrise when
we were engaged in singing that hymn of sweet comfort--
_Lo! We shall crush His enemies
And drown them in their blood--_
that a fat, balding devil of middle age, somewhat wrapped and entwined
in a sheet of bed linen approached the outer grating of our cell and
did speak with us.
At first we were slow in understanding; but as it did happen that by
good chance I had had some teaching in my youth in papist ways, it was
not long before I realized that this devil was speaking a particularly
barbarous and unnatural form of latin; and, on my conveying this
information to Sergeant Flail-of-the-Lord, it was decided that I should
speak with the devil for all of us.
I began by abjuring him to turn from the ways of the devil and cast
himself upon the mercy of the Lord. But, so imperfect were the
creature's wits and so inadequate his grasp of the tongue in which we
conversed that he failed to grasp my meaning. Whereupon, I demanded of
him by what right he held us and he did name several devils with Romish
names and, producing several objects of strange manufacture, seemed to
call on us for some kind of action.
At this point, Sergeant Flail-of-the-Lord interrupted to order me that
I draw the devil out in conversation and learn whatsoever I could, that
the knowledge might be a means to breaking the enchantment. Therefore,
I did show interest and beseeched the devil to further explain himself.
Whereupon he did so. And it was apparent immediately that our wise
Sergeant, praise the Lord, had correctly judged the state in which we
were held. For after a great deal of words which I had some trouble
interpreting, it became apparent that this spawn of the Devil, this
creature of Satan was endeavoring by means of foul enticements and
false promises of release from our enchantment, to cozen us into
bowing down to graven images.
No sooner had I understood this, than I was filled with the wrath of
the Lord, and, feeling His hand upon me, spoke words of fire to the
lost being before me. I observed that he quailed, although odd as
it seems, some of our troop claim to have noticed a slight trace of
satisfaction upon his hellish visage. Whereupon he closed the interview
with a question.
"Are you all Christians?" he demanded of me.
I answered, "Yes," and, rubbing his hands together with an expression
of glee he hurried off.
I related all this to my comrades and the Sergeant. The Sergeant then
advised us that we continue as we had before, saying that no doubt we
were not alone at the mercy of the Devil, but that were being somewhat
tested by the Lord, and as long as our faith in Him remained steadfast,
no harm could surely come from this.
So hath the day past, very decently in praying and godly conversation.
From scraps of conversation I have overheard from neighboring cells it
becometh apparent that tomorrow we are to be thrown into the 'Arena,'
which I take to be a devilish word for the pit. So be it. We abide the
issue, all of us, with firm faith and quiet hearts. Amen.
* * * * *
_March 2, 2631_: Dear Diary: What a vexatious group! What on earth
shall I do? These Romans seem to be pining away and losing interest in
my tests, taking them lackadaisically, if at all. I'm sure I don't know
what's wrong. I've given them the most attractive apparatus I can find,
different colored little balls and pegs and objects, and brightly-lit
shadow cards to study. I've piped all sorts of cheerful music into the
basement and given them authentic Roman diets of the period and all
they wanted to eat. They just don't seem to have any interest. I can't
imagine what's wrong.
* * * * *
(_From the notebook of Croton Myers_) _March 2, 2631_:
11:02 P.M.:--Dial settings A-26.24, B-5.1, C-2.73779 Calibration check,
Vernier check. (Run 73)
Found it. Year 65, our calendar, Feb. 22, 10:15 P.M. (approx).
Sixteen individuals. Time scar to present date and year. Hole plugged
on or about Feb. 27. Structure therefore safe middle late Roman
era, disregarding minor time-thread damage which runs out anyway.
However--took general check on hunch, and hunch confirmed. There's
another hole even closer to our time. I can tell by the strains on the
major time-threads. No time to trace it down now. We've got about five
hours worth of elasticity in the present time-fabric before there'll
be (a) a time collapse, or (b) an attempt by the fabric to rearrange
itself to relieve the strain. Even the rearrangement could do for us.
This second hole's too close to our own period.
I'm no Sherlock, but to me it adds up to only one answer--Bugsomer. I'm
going over and see if I can force the information out of him.
_The damn fool!_
* * * * *
_March 3, 65_: TO THE CAPTAIN OF THE ARENA: Order your gladiators
to stretch out this battle with the Christians. I don't want a
sheep-slaughter. I want some sport. Some running around and excitement.
See to it.
NERO, Imp.
* * * * *
_March 3, 65_: TO THE EMPEROR: Hail Caesar! I will do whatever I can
when the time comes. But you know how uncooperative these Christians
are. They won't even pick up their swords and armor. They want to be
martyrs. However, I promise that the Emperor will not be disappointed.
(signed) Lictus,