he will listen to nothing more. However, the matter must be arranged; it
must be.... What would I not give to know the truth of the scene between
Gorka and Florent? By what strange and diabolical ricochet did
the Palatine hit upon the latter when his business was with the
brother-in-law?... Will he be angry that I am his adversary's second?...
Bah!... After our conversation of the other day our friendship is
ended.... Good, I am already at the little church of 'Domine, quo
vadis.'--["Lord, whither art thou going?"]--I might say to myself:
'Juliane, quo vadis?' 'To perform an act a little better than the
majority of my actions,' I might reply."

That impressionable soul which vibrated at the slightest contact was
touched by the souvenir of one of the innumerable pious legends which
nineteen centuries of Catholicism have suspended at all the corners of
Rome and its surrounding districts. He recalled the touching story of
St. Peter flying from persecution and meeting our Lord: "Lord, whither
art thou going?" asked the apostle. "To be crucified a second time,"
replied the Saviour, and Peter was ashamed of his weakness and returned
to martyrdom. Montfanon himself had related that episode to the
novelist, who again began to reflect upon the Marquis's character and
the best means of approaching him. He forgot to glance at the vast
solitude of the Roman suburbs before him, and so deep was his reverie
that he almost passed unheeded the object of his search. Another
disappointment awaited him at the first point in his voyage of
exploration.

The monk who came at his ring to open the door of the inclosure
contiguous to St. Calixtus, informed him that he of whom he was in
search had left half an hour before.

"You will find him at the Basilica of Saint Neree and Saint Achilles,"
added the Trappist; "it is the fete of those two saints, and at five
o'clock there will be a procession in their catacombs.... It is a
fifteen minutes' ride from here, near the tower Marancia, on the Via
Ardeatina."

"Shall I miss him a third time?" thought Dorsenne, alighting from the
carriage finally, and proceeding on foot to the opening which leads to
the subterranean Necropolis dedicated to the two saints who were the
eunuchs of Domitilla, the niece of Emperor Vespasian. A few ruins and
a dilapidated house alone mark the spot where once stood the pious
Princess's magnificent villa. The gate was open, and, meeting no one who
could direct him, the