a
message had of course nothing unexpected for its recipient, who looked
upon Marcian as secretly serving Pelagius. It put his mind at ease and
released him from the necessity of keeping a night watch. Sagaris,
totally ignorant of his master's mission, and of the plans that had
just been formed, imagined himself an intermediary in some plot between
Marcian and the leader of the horsemen, and performed the deceitful
office in all good faith.

The bishop and his guest sat down to supper in an ancient room, of
which the floor was a mosaic representing an Egyptian landscape, with a
multitude of figures. Marcian would gladly have asked questions about
Veranilda; how long she had been at Praeneste, whether the lady Aurelia
was in the same convent, and many other things; but he did not venture
to make known how little he had enjoyed of Leander's confidence. His
reverend host spoke not at all on this subject, which evidently had no
interest for him, but abounded in inquiries as to the state of things
ecclesiastical at Rome. The supper was excellent; it pained the good
prelate that his guest seemed to have so poor an appetite. He vaunted
the quality of everything on the table, and was especially enthusiastic
about a wine of the south, very aromatic, which had come to him as a
present from his friend the Bishop of Rhegium, together with a certain
cheese of Sila, exquisite in thymy savour, whereof he ate with
prodigious gusto.

It was about the third hour of the night when Sagaris, to his
astonishment, was aroused from a first sleep, and bidden prepare at
once for travel. Following his master and the bishop, who were not
otherwise attended, he passed through a garden to a postern, where, by
dim lantern light, he saw, in the street without, a small covered
carriage drawn by four mules, and behind it several men on horseback;
his master's horse and his own were also in readiness at the door. He
mounted, the carriage moved forward; and by a steep descent which
needed extreme caution, the gate of the city was soon reached. Here the
bishop, who had walked beside Marcian, spoke a word with two drowsy
watchmen sitting by the open gateway, bade his guest an affectionate
farewell, and stood watching for a few minutes whilst vehicle and
riders moved away in the moonlight.

Finding himself well sped from Praeneste, where his pursuers lay sound
asleep, Marcian felt an extravagant joy; he could scarce command
himself to speak a few necess