hich, now that she was in
Ravenna, she feared no less than she had longed for it while far away
in Tifernum.

And as she wandered in the wide-spread grounds of the magnificent
palace-gardens, she was repeatedly reminded of the anxious care with
which Corbulo's little estate had been fashioned after this model.

Days and weeks passed. Nothing was heard of the patient except that he
was convalescent, but forbidden to leave his rooms. The physicians and
courtiers who surrounded him often expressed to Camilla their
admiration of his patience and strength of mind while suffering the
most acute pains, his gratitude for the slightest service, and the
noble mildness of his disposition.

But when she caught herself listening with pleasure to these words of
praise, she frowned angrily, and the thought arose within her: "And he
did not oppose the murder of my father!"

One hot July night, after long and restless wakefulness, Camilla
towards daybreak had sunk into an uneasy slumber.

Anxious dreams disturbed her.

It seemed to her as if the ceiling of the room, with all its
bas-reliefs, were sinking down upon her. Directly over her head was a
beautiful young Hypnos, the gentle God of Sleep, modelled by the hand
of a Greek.

She dreamed that the drowsy god assumed the earnest, sorrowful features
of his pale brother Thanatos.

Softly and slowly the God of Death bent his countenance above her. He
approached nearer and nearer. His features became more and more
distinct. She already felt his breath upon her forehead. His beautiful
lips almost touched her mouth. Then she recognised with affright the
pale features--the dark eyes. It was Athalaric! With a scream she
started up.

The silver lamp had long since burnt out. The room was dim.

A red light gleamed faintly through the window of spar-gypsum. She rose
and opened it. The cocks were crowing, the first rays of the sun gently
stole over the sea, of which, beyond the garden, she had a full view.
She could no longer bear to remain in the close chamber.

She threw a mantle over her shoulders and hurried softly out of the
still silent palace, down the marble steps, and into the garden; across
which the fresh morning wind from the neighbouring sea blew towards
her.

She hastened towards the sun and the sea, for, to the east, the high
walls of the palace gardens rose directly out of the blue waves of the
Adriatic.

A gilded lattice-gate, and, beyond it, ten broad steps of w