But a voice in the boy’s soul told him of immortality; that living witness within seemed to call on him to believe that the spirit within him _could not die_. With what certainty had the priest spoken of the cloud of living witnesses--living, caring for those on earth--_loving_ them still! Surely, if this were true, it was a grander and nobler thought than the consignment to the depth of Hades, or the utter passing away and annihilation of which so many orators he had lately heard declare was the fate of every man! Casca thought of his beautiful young sister in the temple of Vesta, and remembered all their sweet converse at home in the Villa of Severus, and on the long and perilous journey to Rome. But she had gained her heart’s desire, and she was satisfied. Surely her sweet young face, as he had seen it in the garden on the Cælian Hill, had a happy and satisfied halo shed over it! He had never seen her look so happy before. She had left the luxurious frivolous life behind her, and had entered upon her training for what was considered the very highest vocation for a Roman maiden. She had the privileges and honours of a vestal virgin before her--possibly she might reach the highest office of all, and her father’s rank made this probable; and then, as Vestal Maxima, Hyacintha would have fulfilled the most sanguine desires which any one who knew her could cherish. And yet even that must end. Hyacintha must die and pass away from the temple; her beauty must fade, her powers fail; death would not spare the vestal virgin any more than the humblest peasant woman, like those who had knelt with bowed heads and uplifted hands before the priest, when he had given thanks for their preservation from the lions. Yes, death must pass on all men, and Anna, the British slave, had been very near death; but she looked beyond, to the crowd of invisible witnesses, to Jesus, who had, so the priest said, “Overcome death, and opened the gates of the kingdom.” Casca remembered Ebba in the days that were past--uncertain, trembling, fearful; but now that she had confessed Christ openly, she had a look of resolute purpose on her face, and her plain features were often shining with a light which Casca felt was the light of a steadfast faith, which no cruel death, no terrible torture, could extinguish. When the boy reached the villa of Antonius it was broad daylight, and the outer court was filled with slaves and servants preparing for the morning meal and the day’s pleasure. Several young men were returning from the night’s carousal, and jested with each other on the speed with which the young Casca had assumed all the privileges of his manhood. They made many allusions which Casca did not understand, and he passed through the atrium, anxious to find his way to the rooms which had been appointed for him.