the
slope of the Vatican hill,--to that hut of the quarryman where he had
received baptism from the hands of the Apostle. It seemed to him that
Christ would hear him more readily there than in any other place; so
when he found it, he threw himself on the ground and exerted all the
strength of his suffering soul in prayer for mercy, and so forgot
himself that he remembered not where he was or what he was doing. In
the afternoon he was roused by the sound of trumpets which came from
the direction of Nero's Circus. He went out of the hut, and gazed around
with eyes which were as if just opened from sleep.

It was hot; the stillness was broken at intervals by the sound of brass
and continually by the ceaseless noise of grasshoppers. The air had
become sultry, the sky was still clear over the city, but near the
Sabine Hills dark clouds were gathering at the edge of the horizon.

Vinicius went home. Petronius was waiting for him in the atrium.

"I have been on the Palatine," said he. "I showed myself there
purposely, and even sat down at dice. There is a feast at the house of
Vinicius this evening; I promised to go, but only after midnight, saying
that I must sleep before that hour. In fact I shall be there, and it
would be well wert thou to go also."

"Are there no tidings from Niger or Nazarius?" inquired Vinicius.

"No; we shall see them only at midnight. Hast noticed that a storm is
threatening?"

"Yes."

"To-morrow there is to be an exhibition of crucified Christians, but
perhaps rain will prevent it."

Then he drew nearer and said, touching his nephew's shoulder,--"But thou
wilt not see her on the cross; thou wilt see her only in Corioli. By
Castor! I would not give the moment in which we free her for all the
gems in Rome. The evening is near."

In truth the evening was near, and darkness began to encircle the city
earlier than usual because clouds covered the whole horizon. With the
coming of night heavy rain fell, which turned into steam on the stones
warmed by the heat of the day, and filled the streets of the city with
mist. After that came a lull, then brief violent showers.

"Let us hurry!" said Vinicius at last; "they may carry bodies from the
prison earlier because of the storm."

"It is time!" said Petronius.

And taking Gallic mantles with hoods, they passed through the garden
door to the street. Petronius had armed himself with a short Roman knife
called sicca, which he took always during nigh