Amid the continued cries of "To arms! to arms!" and the shouts of the crowd assembled at the fire, which blazed as though it knew it had the full permission of the master of the palace to do its utmost, Polycarp went forth secretly to look after the theft he meditated--the carrying off Auristella,--and the sorceress Zenotia as anxiously watched for the accomplishment of hers--the detention of Antonio; but finding that all the party had made their escape, and that not one was left behind, orders were given to all the batteries, and to all the ships that were in the harbour, to fire at the little vessel which was seen taking to flight. This only added to the uproar and confusion, and terror of the inhabitants of the town, who could not divine or imagine what enemies were assailing them, or what all this frightful clamour could mean. Meanwhile the love-sick maiden Sinforosa, who was utterly ignorant of the cause of all this disturbance, made her way with hurried and trembling steps to the top of one of the highest towers in the palace, which seemed likely to be safe from the fire that was consuming the rest of the building. Her sister Polycarpa went to shut herself up with her, and then she told her how their guests had fled; on hearing this news, Sinforosa fainted away, which made Polycarpa repent of what she had done. Morning dawned at last--welcome to those who hoped to discover with the daylight the cause of the calamity,--but in the bosom of King Polycarp was darkest night, and the deepest sadness that can be imagined. Zenotia wrung her hands, and cursed her deceiving art, and the promises of her accursed masters. Poor Sinforosa still lay in her swoon, whilst her sister wept over her and lamented her sorrows, but continued to use every effort to restore her to life and sense. At last she revived, and casting her eyes towards the sea, she saw the vessel which bore away the other half of her soul, or at least its better part, and like another Dido deceived and abandoned, complaining of another fugitive Eneas, she sighed, wept, and cried aloud in such words as these; "O lovely guest, who hast come to these shores for my misfortune; thou hast never deceived me, it is true, for I have never been happy enough to hear words of love from thee that might have beguiled me; Oh, that I could slacken thy sails, and arrest thy speed, so that these eyes might yet a little longer space behold thy ship, the very sight of which is consolation, since it containeth thee. Alas! my lord, thou fliest from one who would fain follow thee. Thou hatest one who adores thee; I who am daughter of a king, would gladly be thy slave. The flames that burn this city, if thou wouldst return, might serve as an illumination to show our joy; I have riches safely placed where the fire cannot touch them, for Heaven will preserve them for thee." Then she would turn to her sister, and say, "Dost not thou think, my Polycarpa, that the ship slackens in her course? Seemeth it