SSAGE OF ARMS.

How many hours passed while Caecilius was thus employed, he did not know.
The sun was declining when he was roused by a noise at the door. He
hastily restored the sacred treasure to its hiding-place in his breast,
and rose up from his knees. The door was thrown back, and a female form
presented itself at the opening. She looked in at the priest, and said,
"Then Agellius is not here?"

The woman was young, tall, and graceful in person. She was clad in a
yellow cotton tunic, reaching to her feet, on which were shoes. The clasps
at her shoulders, partly visible under the short cloak or shawl which was
thrown over them, and which might, if necessary, be drawn over her head,
seemed to serve the purpose, not only of fastening her dress, but of
providing her with sharp prongs or minute stilettos for her defence, in
case she fell in with ruffians by the way; and though the expression of
her face was most feminine, there was that about it which implied she
could use them for that purpose on an emergency. That face was clear in
complexion, regular in outline, and at the present time pale, whatever
might be its ordinary tint. Its charm was a noble and majestic calm. There
is the calm of divine peace and joy; there is the calm of heartlessness;
there is the calm of reckless desperation; there is the calm of death.
None of these was the calm which breathed from the features of the
stranger who intruded upon the solitude of Caecilius. It was the calm of
Greek sculpture; it imaged a soul nourished upon the visions of genius,
and subdued and attuned by the power of a strong will. There was no
appearance of timidity in her manner; very little of modesty. The evening
sun gleamed across her amber robe, and lit it up till it glowed like fire,
as if she were invested in the marriage _flammeum_, and was to be claimed
that evening as the bride of her own bright god of day.

She looked at Caecilius, first with surprise, then with anxiety; and her
words were, "You, I fear, are of his people. If so, make the most of these
hours. The foe may be on you to-morrow morning. Fly while you can."

"If I am a Christian," answered Caecilius, "what are you who are so careful
of us? Have you come all the way from Sicca to give the alarm to mere
atheists and magic-mongers?"

"Stranger," she said, "if you had seen what I have seen, what I have heard
of to-day, you would not wonder at my wish to save from a like fate the
vilest being on e