It was quite dark when Casca left Clœlia’s house the next morning, except, indeed, for the light of the stars, which had not yet begun to fade before the dawn. When the boy reached the deserted and silent Forum, faint streaks of the coming day were just enough to show the outline of the columns which supported the façade of the temples, and the statues which surrounded the pillars. There were a good many sleepers about the steps of the temple and plinths of the statues. The outside garment or toga was rolled up for a pillow, and the poor Roman citizens, who lived, for the most part, desultory lives out of doors, and earned a scanty pittance by helping to unlade the mules which came in from the country to supply fruit and milk and vegetables to the city, never desired easier or more luxurious couches! Then Casca threaded his way cautiously along till he took the narrow path which wound by the temple of Vesta to the Cælian Hill. In the hush before the dawn every sound was distinctly heard--the ripple of running waters--the low splash of fountains--the fall of solitary footsteps. Once there was the sound of a band of revellers, who were returning to one of the palaces in the Palatine, after a night of wild bacchanalian license. The noise grew nearer, passed below the place where Casca stood, and then grew fainter and fainter, and died away in the distance. Then there was a low sullen roar, which was often heard in the stillness of a Roman night--the lions roaring at daybreak for their prey, the food which would be supplied to them in the arena before sunset, when the Christians who might have been in captivity in some of the adjoining cells would be brought out to die! Casca pursued his way, leaving the temple of Vesta behind him, pausing every now and then to look back at the place where his little sister was one day to minister, to keep the sacred fire burning, for the safety and welfare of the Roman people all over the world. The boy’s heart went out in loving tenderness towards Hyacintha, and he longed for one hour of free intercourse, such as they used to have in the villa of Severus, in Verulam. The footpath between the gardens was very narrow, and wound in and out, till the summit of the Cælian Hill was reached. Here Casca paused again, and was soon conscious that a figure clothed in a long dark stole and hood was seated on a fragment of stone waiting for him. It was, indeed, Ebba, the Christian Anna, who advanced to him, saying-- “Dear master, the son of my lord the noble Severus, I greet you with humble affection. I have been yearning to see you, for I knew that you were in Rome, and I have watched and waited, and now you are here!” “Good Ebba,” exclaimed Casca, “I am right glad to find you here. But tell me how it has come about.”