t mysterious
instinct of preservation, which is co-existent with the instinct of
fear--which gifts the weakest animal with cunning to improve its
flight, and takes the place of reason, reflection, and resolve, when
all are banished from the mind--warned her against the fatal error of
permitting the pursuer to track her to her home.

'Not there! not there!' she gasped faintly as Numerian endeavoured to
lead her up the ascent. 'She will see us as we enter the
doors!--through the streets! Oh, father, if you would save me! we may
lose her in the streets!--the guards, the people are there! Back!
back!'

Numerian trembled as he marked the terror in her looks and gestures;
but it was vain to question or oppose her. Nothing short of force
could restrain her,--no commands or entreaties could draw from her more
than the same breathless exclamation: 'Onward, father; onward, if you
would save me!' She was insensible to every sensation but fear,
incapable of any other exertion than flight.

Turning and winding, hurrying forward ever at the same rapid pace, they
passed unconsciously along the intricate streets that led to the river
side; and still the avenger tracked the victim, constant as the shadow
to the substance; steady, vigilant, unwearied, as a bloodhound on a hot
scent.

And now, even the sound of the father's voice ceased to be audible in
the daughter's ears; she no longer felt the pressure of his hand, no
longer perceived his very presence at her side. At length, frail and
shrinking, she again paused, and looked back. The street they had
reached was very tranquil and desolate: two slaves were walking at its
further extremity. While they were in sight, no living creature
appeared in the roadway behind; but as soon as they had passed away, a
shadow stole slowly forward over the pavement of a portico in the
distance, and the next moment Goisvintha appeared in the street.

The sun glared down fiercely over her dark figure as she stopped and
for an instant looked stealthily around her. She moved to advance, and
Antonina saw no more. Again she turned to renew her hopeless flight;
and again her father--perceiving only as the mysterious cause of her
dread a solitary woman, who, though she followed, attempted not to
arrest, or even to address them--prepared to accompany her to the last,
in despair of all other chances of securing her safety.

More and more completely did her terror now enchain her faculties, as