s, or to enter the temple through the
great gates--where that dreadful man was--and where she would at once be
recognized! Then there could be no escape, none--and she must, yes, she
must evade her dreadful suitor. Every thought of Diodoros cried, "You
must!"--even at the cost of her young life, of which, indeed, she saw
the imminent end nearer and nearer with every step. She knew not whither
her flight might take her, but a voice within declared that it would be
to an early grave.

Only a narrow strip of sky was visible between the tall buildings, but,
as she looked up to the heavens, she perceived that it was two hours
past midnight. She hurried on, but presently checked her pace again.
From the square, three trumpet-calls, one after another, rang through
the silence of the night. What could these signals mean at so unwonted
an hour?

There could be but one explanation--Caesar had again condemned some
hapless wretch to death, and he was being led to execution. When Vindex
and his nephew were beheaded, three trumpet-calls had sounded; her
brother had told her so.

And now, before her inward eye, rose the crowd of victims to Caracalla's
thirst for blood. She fancied that Plautilla, whom her imperial consort
had murdered, was beckoning her to follow her to an early grave. The
terrors of the night were too much for her; and, as when a child, at
play with her brothers, she flew on as fast as her feet would carry her.
She fled as though she were pursued, her long dress hampering her steps,
along by the temple wall, till her gaze, fixed on her left, fell on the
spot which had been designated to her.

Here she stopped, out of breath; and, while she was identifying the
landmarks which she had impressed on her memory to guide her to the
right doorway, the temple wall seemed to open before her as if by a
charm, and a kind voice called her name, and then exclaimed, "At last!"
and in a moment she had grasped Euryale's hand and was drawn into the
building.

Here, as if at the touch of a magician's wand, all fear and horror
vanished; and, although she still panted for breath, she would at once
have explained to her beloved protectress what it was that had prompted
her to run so fast, but that Euryale interrupted her, exclaiming: "Only
make haste! No one must see that block of porphyry turn on its pin.
It is invisible from the outside, and closes the passage by which the
mystics and adepts find their way to the mysteries after