And so it continued throughout the morning. In the long paved underground passage way, Mirko showed her Cæsar, carried along in his litter, returning from his theatre. She saw the flickering light of the torches, heard the sandalled footsteps of the slaves,--their heavy breathing, the creak of the poles. And at the foot of the stairs she saw the sudden confusion,--the dark-cloaked assassins stealing from the shadow, she heard the shrieks, the cries of "Treason!" "Murder!" She saw in glimpses between the surging figures, the white-faced Emperor, struggling from his litter,--his unwieldy form leapt upon, borne back and down, then blows,--a gurgling groan. She saw the overturned litter, the crumpled body on the floor, the widening pool of blood,--then flight to the long flare of torches snatched from the trembling slaves, then darkness, and the alarm. She saw the gay crowds, trooping into the Circus Maximus, the arrival in procession of Cæsar, æditor of the games. She watched breathless the speeding chariots, and carried out of herself, with flushed cheeks and shining eyes, joined in the thunderous applause which acclaimed the victor,--the hoarse roar which must, it seemed, shake the very foundations of Rome. When it was all over, and the guide had beamingly pocketed his _mancia_ and they were in the street again, Ragna drew a long breath. "It has been wonderful!" "Then you are satisfied with your cicerone? You are convinced that a guide-book is unnecessary?" "Oh," she answered, "the book makes it all into a cemetery,--or a table of dates,--but you have made Rome live.--It can never be the same now, as it was before; I have been there, I have seen it, it is part of me,--and without you I should never have known anything of it at all. How do you do it? How do you bring it all to life?" Mirko smiled, well pleased with the result of his effort and with himself. "I have been there." "Been there! How?" "I was once a Roman, I feel it, I know it!" "Yes," she answered, "I think you must have been,--I can feel that you have been--you have made me feel it." They were silent for a few minutes, and Ragna repeated: "It has been wonderful!" When they had parted, and Ragna found herself alone, the wonder of it grew on her. How blind she had been until the Prince opened her eyes! She was very glad that she had come, all her half-formulated scruples were laid at rest. How foolish she had been to imagine any possible harm!--What could be more innocent or more delightful than their informal comradeship? He was quite right too, in wishing to keep it all to themselves. Astrid would not, could not understand, still less so good, prosaic-minded Fru Bjork, and as for Estelle Hagerup! Ragna laughed scornfully, as there rose before her mental vision the grasshopper-like silhouette of that strenuous spinster. At luncheon, looking about her at the commonplace faces of her fellow sojourners, she could not repress a secret movement of vanity.