“The worst, Quintus. Cornelius is watched, followed--but by-and-bye, my friend--just now I am as hard pressed as a stag followed by the hounds. Farewell! Who knows--by the gods! my brain is in a whirl.” “Must you go?” said Cornelia. “Indeed I must. Farewell, the gods be with you all.” He rushed out to the atrium, where Herodianus and Magus were waiting for him in silence and darkness. “Now, come--as fast as possible, to the high-priest’s house; Claudia is expecting me. If she could dream, that I am about to take leave of her....” The whole house was wrapped in sleep, when Lucilia cautiously unbolted the side-door. Claudia was standing in the colonnade, and her heart beat high as the Batavian softly went up to her. “Forgive me,” he said, “for daring to snatch an interview so late at night. Claudia, do you feel strong enough to cling to me faithfully through every change of fate?” “What a dreadful question, Caius; and I have been so content to-day, so happy--the future looked so rosy.--Caius, my dear love, what has happened? Your hand is trembling--what have you to tell me?” “I must go away, sweet Claudia--this very night.” “Impossible! Ah, Caius! say this is a jest.” “Nay, I will tell you all, only not now, not at this minute. You shall very soon hear from me, Claudia; but as to whether I shall ever return--that lies in the counsels of the Immortals. If you regret your promise, Claudia, if the remote and unknown future terrifies you, say so in time; you shall not be bound. But, if you love me with all your soul, Fate cannot divide us. You will find out the path by which we may meet again, and you will not be mistaken in the man you have chosen, happen what may.” “Caius, you are breaking my heart! I do not understand it--but you will not allow me to ask.--Well, so be it then, I submit. Come what may, Caius, I am your wife, and when you bid me I will follow you. Oh ye gods! how cruel, how hard--in the midst of so much sunshine.--I cannot bear it!” “Forgive me, forgive me,” said Aurelius, himself hardly able to check his tears. “It is a shame to spoil your happiness, but I cannot help it.--Farewell, my Claudia. Love me, remember me, and trust to your protecting star!” “Farewell,” sobbed the girl. “And you will tell me all, everything, will you not?” “All I can and may,” said Aurelius. “Perhaps,” he added tremulously, “I may be able to tell you that all is well, here, in Rome, in your father’s house. But, if what I am planning and hoping, must fail---well, even then, I know that one thing will remain dearer and more precious than success--you, my Claudia.” He clasped her in his arms; then he tore himself away, and hurried off to the little door.