‘Did your comrade never tell you of this theft before?’ ‘Never.’ ‘And what does he deserve, think you, if he have done as he says?’ said Fabricius, speaking with agitation; ‘taking away what to me was more precious than life itself. What harm had I ever done him? To sell the sweet child for a slave—oh!’ ‘’Twas a crime indeed, and no fate too hard for him,’ observed Cestus. ‘But haste, I beseech you! The poor devil is dying; have pity on him, and serve yourself as well; for, as like as not, you may get your maid again. ’Tis all plain to me now. When I first knew Lupus, some twenty years ago, he was as blithe a fellow as ever stepped; and then he began to change. Ay, ay! It is plain enough to see now what weighed upon him.’ ‘Humph; do you say so?’ ‘That is easily vouched for by others than myself. Will you not come? or must I go back and tell him——’ ‘Faith, I am distraught. I know not——’ ‘’Tis scarcely likely he would die with a lie on his lips, noble sir.’ ‘I will go with you,’ said Fabricius, with a sudden determination. ‘Go to the porch and wait! Natta, haste! Bid Pannicus, Cyrrha, and Crotus take their staves and go forth with me to the Aventine. Fetch me my cloak and cap!’ ‘What, now—to‐night?’ demanded the astonished slave, who ran in at his master’s call. ‘Yes, now, this minute—haste!’ Now that his mind was made up the old man was burning with eagerness, and, ere long, he and his slaves were ready to depart. In the meantime Cestus went to the porch and stood on the outer step. The moon was rising behind some heavy cloud‐banks, and her effulgence shone dimly through the rifts. The great city lay stretched below, with its gleams peeping through the hazy gloom. In the uncertain light a form crept noiselessly up to the pillars of the porch, and whispered to the Suburan standing there. ‘Well, is he coming?’ ‘Yes—take care; he is here!’ replied Cestus, and the figure glided back into obscurity. Fabricius, followed by the three slaves bearing lanterns, came forth. ‘It is moonlight, Fabricius—the lanterns will be rather a hindrance than otherwise,’ observed Cestus. ‘It is moonlight truly, but not much as yet,’ answered Fabricius; ‘so until it mends we will carry our own light with us. Lead on, good fellow, with Pannicus, and we three will follow.’ Cestus did as he was told, cursing the lanterns in his heart. Pannicus walked by his side. Far enough behind to escape observation, the cloaked form, which had spoken to Cestus, dogged their steps like a stealthy tiger. They passed down the hill and through the Transtibertine district to the river. After crossing the Sublician Bridge they proceeded to the gate of the Servian rampart called Trigemina, and then ascended the Aventine Mount by the Publician Road.