“It has all been considered,” said Thrax impatiently. “If you were to perish in this cavern, would not our fate also be sealed? Do you think, that Glauce would survive your death? Look at her; see how the mere thought frightens her.” “But who talks of my dying? You should have waited eight or ten days, till the first fury of our persecutors had cooled.” “And meanwhile you would have cooled, never to be warm again. Your wound, at first scarcely worth speaking of, has become so much worse in the unwholesome air of this vault....” “And your fever increases every day,” interrupted Euterpe. “Waste no more words!” cried Thrax angrily. “Help him, Diphilus. You see he can hardly drag himself up.” Diphilus, zealously seconded by Euterpe, lifted the wounded man from his wretched couch, and they carried him carefully out into the gallery, where Blepyrus was wearily leaning against the rough-hewn wall. A litter was standing there with some thick woollen coverlets, and Eurymachus was laid upon it as comfortably as possible. Glauce, who had followed with a clay lamp, pressed a long kiss on his forehead, and then hurried away, crying bitterly. Quintus had also accompanied them, and as soon as he saw that all was ready for the start, ran back to fetch his hardly-dried cloak. But he involuntarily paused at the entrance of the cavern; the sight that met his eyes was as pathetic as it was fair to look upon. The young girl had fallen on her knees before the altar, her slender hands uplifted in prayer; she gazed up at the cross in a transport of devotion, smiling ecstatically, though tears rolled down her pale cheeks. Her lips moved, at first inaudibly, but presently in a low murmur. “Saviour of the world,” she prayed, “Thou who hast died for us on the cross.--If Thou requirest a victim, take me, and let me suffer a thousand deaths, but spare, oh spare my Eurymachus!” “Where are you, my lord?” called Blepyrus. “I am coming,” answered Quintus in an agitated voice. “Forgive me, gentle worshipper, for interrupting your prayer. Your God will hear and grant it none the less.” And as he spoke he went up to the fire-place, threw the cloak over his shoulders, and followed the litter which, borne by Blepyrus and Diphilus, had already reached the entrance of the quarry. Euterpe also was with the wounded fugitive. Only Thrax Barbatus remained behind in the underground cavern, to help Glauce, who had now recovered her cheerful composure, to deck the altar and throw wood on the fire. It was nearly midnight, the hour at which a little knot of believers in the Nazarene were wont to meet and keep the Feast of Love in memory of their Redeemer. FOOTNOTES: [339] AT THE FOOT OF THE AVENTINE was a slip arranged by the aediles M. Aemilius Lepidus and L. Aemilius Paulus in the year 193 B.C. Ships still lie at anchor there at the present day.