[Illustration: A Monogram of Christ, found in the Catacombs.] CHAPTER XIV. THE DISCOVERY. At the first dawn of morning, Corvinus was up; and, notwithstanding the gloominess of the day, proceeded straight to the Forum. He found his outposts quite undisturbed, and hastened to the principal object of his care. It would be useless to attempt describing his astonishment, his rage, his fury, when he saw the blank board, with only a few shreds of parchment left, round the nails; and beside it standing, in unconscious stolidity, his Dacian sentinel. He would have darted at his throat, like a tiger, if he had not seen, in the barbarian’s twinkling eye, a sort of hyena squint, which told him he had better not. But he broke out at once into a passionate exclamation: “Sirrah! how has the edict disappeared? Tell me directly!” “Softly, softly, Herr Kornweiner,” answered the imperturbable Northern. “There it is as you left it in my charge.” “Where, you fool? Come and look at it.” The Dacian went to his side, and for the first time confronted the board; and after looking at it for some moments, exclaimed: “Well, is not that the board you hung up last night?” “Yes, you blockhead, but there was writing on it, which is gone. That is what you had to guard.” “Why, look you, captain, as to writing, you see I know nothing, having never been a scholar; but as it was raining all night, it may have been washed out.” “And as it was blowing, I suppose the parchment on which it was written was blown off?” “No doubt, Herr Kornweiner; you are quite right.” “Come, sir, this is no joking matter. Tell me, at once, who came here last night.” “Why, two of them came.” “Two of what?” “Two wizards, or goblins, or worse.” “None of that nonsense for me.” The Dacian’s eye flashed drunkenly again. “Well, tell me, Arminius, what sort of people they were, and what they did.” “Why, one of them was but a stripling, a boy, tall and thin; who went round the pillar, and I suppose must have taken away what you miss, while I was busy with the other.” “And what of him? What was _he_ like?” The soldier opened his mouth and eyes, and stared at Corvinus for some moments, then said, with a sort of stupid solemnity, “What was he like? Why, if he was not Thor himself, he wasn’t far from it. I never felt such strength.” “What did he do to show it?” “He came up first, and began to chat quite friendly, asked me if it was not very cold, and that sort of thing. At last I remembered that I had to run through any one that came near me----” “Exactly,” interrupted Corvinus; “and why did you not do it?” “Only because he wouldn’t let me. I told him to be off, or I should spear him, and drew back and stretched out my javelin; when in the quietest manner, but I don’t know how, he twisted it out of my hand, broke it over his knee, as if it had been a mountebank’s wooden sword, and dashed the iron-headed piece fast into the ground, where you see it, fifty yards off.”