ad been bribed, and a bargain made with the beast-keepers
to hide Lygia in some dark corner, and give her at night into the hands
of a confidant of Vinicius, who would take her at once to the Alban
Hills. Petronius, admitted to the secret, advised Vinicius to go with
him openly to the amphitheatre, and after he had entered to disappear in
the throng and hurry to the vaults, where, to avoid possible mistake, he
was to point out Lygia to the guards personally.

The guards admitted him through a small door by which they came
out themselves. One of these, named Cyrus, led him at once to the
Christians. On the way he said,--

"I know not, lord, that thou wilt find what thou art seeking. We
inquired for a maiden named Lygia, but no one gave us answer; it may be,
though, that they do not trust us."

"Are there many?" asked Vinicius.

"Many, lord, had to wait till to-morrow."

"Are there sick ones among them?"

"There were none who could not stand."

Cyrus opened a door and entered as it were an enormous chamber, but
low and dark, for the light came in only through grated openings which
separated it from the arena. At first Vinicius could see nothing; he
heard only the murmur of voices in the room, and the shouts of people in
the amphitheatre. But after a time, when his eyes had grown used to the
gloom, he saw crowds of strange beings, resembling wolves and bears.
Those were Christians sewed up in skins of beasts. Some of them were
standing; others were kneeling in prayer. Here and there one might
divine by the long hair flowing over the skin that the victim was a
woman. Women, looking like wolves, carried in their arms children sewed
up in equally shaggy coverings. But from beneath the skins appeared
bright faces and eyes which in the darkness gleamed with delight and
feverishness. It was evident that the greater number of those people
were mastered by one thought, exclusive and beyond the earth,--a thought
which during life made them indifferent to everything which happened
around them and which could meet them. Some, when asked by Vinicius
about Lygia, looked at him with eyes as if roused from sleep, without
answering his questions; others smiled at him, placing a finger on their
lips or pointing to the iron grating through which bright streaks of
light entered. But here and there children were crying, frightened by
the roaring of beasts, the howling of dogs, the uproar of people, and
the forms of their own parents w