You cannot venture through the court-yard; you must go through
this window into the open street. But there is some one coming down the
road; let him pass first, it will not be long to wait, for he is walking
quickly."

She carefully drew the shutters to, and laughed to see how clumsily
Hermas set to work to unbuckle the greaves; but the gay laugh died upon
her lips when the gate flew open, the greyhound and the senator's
watch-dogs barked loudly, and she recognized her husband's voice as he
ordered the dogs to be quiet.

"Fly-fly-for the gods' sake!" she cried in a trembling voice. With that
ready presence of mind with which destiny arms the weakest woman in great
and sudden danger, she extinguished the lamp, flung open the shutter, and
pushed Hermas to the window. The boy did not stay to bid her farewell,
but swung himself with a strong leap down into the road, and, followed by
the barking of the dogs, which roused all the neighboring households, he
flew up the street to the little church.

He had not got more than half-way when he saw a man coming towards him;
he sprang into the shadow of a house, but the belated walker accelerated
his steps, and came straight up to him. He set off running again, but the
other pursued him, and kept close at his heels till he had passed all the
houses and began to go up the mountain-path. Hermas felt that he was
outstripping his pursuer, and was making ready for a spring over a block
of stone that encumbered the path, when he heard his name called behind
him, and he stood still, for he recognized the voice of the man from whom
he was flying as that of his good friend Paulus.

"You indeed" said the Alexandrian, panting for breath. "Yes, you are
swifter than I. Years hang lead on our heels, but do you know what it is
that lends them the swiftest wings? You have just learned it! It is a bad
conscience; and pretty things will be told about you; the dogs have
barked it all out loud enough to the night."

"And so they may!" replied Hermas defiantly, and trying in vain to free
himself from the strong grasp of the anchorite who held him firmly. "I
have done nothing wrong."

"Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife!" interrupted Paulus in a tone
of stern severity. "You have been with the centurion's pretty wife, and
were taken by surprise. Where is your sheepskin?"

Hermas started, felt on his shoulder, and exclaimed, striking his fist
against his forehead, "Merciful Heaven!--I have lef