cream with fear in the streets?
Another, and yet another! Ha! ye gods--if there be a God or gods--I
envy ye but one thing: the power of your hate and your deadly
lightning. Ye hurl it with all the rage and lust of your hearts, and
your enemies vanish. Then you laugh; the thunder is your laughter. Ha!
what was that!"

A flash and a peal of thunder which outdid all that had gone before.

Aspa started from her knees.

"What is that great building, Aspa? That dark mass opposite? The
lightning must have struck it. Is it on fire?"

"No, thanks to the gods! The lightning only lit it up. It is the
granaries of the King."

"Ha! has your lightning failed?" cried the Queen. "But mortals, too,
can use the lightning of revenge." And she left the window. The room
became suddenly dark.

"Queen--mistress--where art thou? Whither hast thou gone?" cried Aspa.
And she felt along the walls.

But the room was empty, and Aspa called her mistress in vain.

Below in the streets a procession wound its way to the Basilica of
Saint Apollonaris.

Romans and Goths; children and old people; very many women. Boys with
torches walked first; behind came priests with crucifix and banners.

Through the growling of the thunder and the roaring of the wind sounded
the ancient and solemn chorus:

"Dulce mihi cruciari,
Parva vis doloris est;
Malo mori quam f[oe]dari;
Major vis amoris est."

And the choir answered:

"Parce, judex, contristatis
Parce pecatoribus,
Qui descendis perflammatis
Ultor jam in nubibus."

And the procession disappeared into the church.

The overseers of the corn-magazines had also joined the crowd of
worshippers.

Upon the steps of the Basilica, exactly opposite the door of the
magazines, sat the woman in the brown mantle, calm and fearless amid
the uproar of the elements; her hands not folded, but resting quietly
on her lap.

The man in the steel cap stood near her.

A Gothic woman, who was just hurrying into the church, recognised her
by the light of a flash of lightning.

"Thou here again, countrywoman? Without shelter? I have offered thee my
house, often enough. Thou appearest strange here in Ravenna?"

"I am so; but still I have a lodging."

"Come into the church and pray with us."

"I pray here."

"But thou neither singest nor speakest."

"Yet still God hears me."

"Pray for the city. They fea