with vivid realism
this scene, the drowning of the Pagan Emperor, and the defeat and flight
of all his army.

CHAPTER XIV.

"UNSTABLE AS WATER."

It was with feelings highly elated at his successful achievement, which
presaged still further advancement, that Isidorus sought his lodgings.
On the way he met many late revellers returning from the festival,
"flown with insolence and wine," and making night hideous with their
riot. Among them, his garments dishevelled, and a withering garland
falling from his brow, was an old acquaintance, Calphurnius, the son of
the Perfect, who with maudlin affection embraced him and exclaimed:--

"Friend of my soul, where hast thou hidden thyself? Our wine parties
lack half their zest, since thou hast turned anchorite. Come, pledge our
ancient friendship in a goblet of Falernian. The wine shop of Turbo, the
ex-gladiator, is near at hand."

"You have not turned Christian, have you?" hiccoughed the drunken
reveller; "no offence, but I heard you had, you know."

Isidorus gave a start. Were his visits to the Catacomb known to this
fashionable fop? Were they a matter of sport to him and his boon
companions? Was he to be laughed out of his nascent convictions by these
empty-headed idlers? No, he determined. He despised the whole crew. But
he was not the stuff out of which martyrs are made, and he lacked the
courage to confess to this gilded butterfly, his as yet faltering
feeling towards Christianity.

"Who says I am?" he asked, anxious to test his knowledge on the subject.

"Who says so? I don't know. Why everybody," was the rather vague reply.

"You don't know what you are talking about, man," said the Greek, with a
forced laugh. "Go home and sleep off your carouse."

"All right. I told them so. The Christians, indeed, the vermin! Come to
the Baths of Caracalla at noon to-morrow and I'll tell you all about
it."

Isidorus went to his lodgings and retired to his couch, but not to
slumber. He was like a boat drifting rudderless upon the sea, the sport
of every wind that blew. He had no strength of will, no fixedness of
purpose, no depth of conviction. His susceptible disposition was easily
moved to generous impulses and even to noble aspirations, yet he had no
moral firmness. He is portrayed to the life by the words of the great
Teacher, "He that received the seed into stony places, the same is he
that heareth the Word, and anon, with joy receiveth it; yet hath he not
root