through your
garden that joins to my father's land. I had none in Rome to ask mercy
of but you; so I set forth hastily, ere my weakness should overpower
me, remembering that I had inherited much misery at your hands, but
hoping that you might pity me for what I had suffered when you saw me
again. I came wearily through the garden; it was long before I found
my way hither; will you send me back as helpless as I came? You first
taught me to disobey my father in giving me the lute; will you refuse
to aid me in succouring him now? He is all that I have left in the
world! Have mercy upon him!--have mercy upon me!'

Again she looked up in Vetranio's face. His trembling lips moved, but
still no sound came from them. The expression of confusion and awe yet
prevailed over his features as he pointed slowly towards the upper end
of the banqueting-table. To her this simple action was eloquent beyond
all power of speech; she turned her feeble steps instantly in the
direction he had indicated.

He watched her, by the light of the single lamp that still burnt,
passing--strong in the shielding inspiration of her good purpose--amid
the bodies of his suicide companions without pausing on her way.
Having gained the upper end of the room, she took from the table a
flask of wine, and from the wooden stand behind it the bowl of offal
disdained by the guests at the fatal banquet, returning immediately to
the spot where Vetranio still stood. Here she stopped for a moment, as
if about to speak once more; but her emotions overpowered her. From
the sources which despair and suffering had dried up, the long-prisoned
tears once more flowed forth at the bidding of gratitude and hope. She
looked upon the senator, silent as himself, and her expression at that
instant was destined to remain on his memory while memory survived.
Then, with faltering and hasty steps, she departed by the way she had
come; and in the great palace, which his evil supremacy over the wills
of others had made a hideous charnel-house, he was once more left alone.

He made no effort to follow or detain her as she left him. The torch
still smouldered beside him on the floor, but he never stooped to take
it up; he dropped down on a vacant couch, stupefied by what he had
beheld. That which no entreaties, no threats, no fierce violence of
opposition could have effected in him, the appearance of Antonina had
produced--it had forced him to pause at the very moment of t