llias the history of the Air
Demon, and the escape of the Thessalian.

'Hang thyself, then, unhappy Sosia! I am just charged from Arbaces with
a message to thee; on no account art thou to suffer her, even for a
moment, from that chamber!'

'Me miserum!' exclaimed the slave. 'What can I do!--by this time she
may have visited half Pompeii. But tomorrow I will undertake to catch
her in her old haunts. Keep but my counsel, my dear Callias.'

'I will do all that friendship can, consistent with my own safety. But
are you sure she has left the house?--she may be hiding here yet.'

'How is that possible? She could easily have gained the garden; and the
door, as I told thee, was open.'

'Nay, not so; for, at that very hour thou specifiest, Arbaces was in the
garden with the priest Calenus. I went there in search of some herbs
for my master's bath to-morrow. I saw the table set out; but the gate I
am sure was shut: depend upon it, that Calenus entered by the garden,
and naturally closed the door after him.'

'But it was not locked.'

'Yes; for I myself, angry at a negligence which might expose the bronzes
in the peristyle to the mercy of any robber, turned the key, took it
away, and--as I did not see the proper slave to whom to give it, or I
should have rated him finely--here it actually is, still in my girdle.'

'Oh, merciful Bacchus! I did not pray to thee in vain, after all. Let
us not lose a moment! Let us to the garden instantly--she may yet be
there!'

The good-natured Callias consented to assist the slave; and after vainly
searching the chambers at hand, and the recesses of the peristyle, they
entered the garden.

It was about this time that Nydia had resolved to quit her hiding-place,
and venture forth on her way. Lightly, tremulously holding her breath,
which ever and anon broke forth in quick convulsive gasps--now gliding
by the flower--wreathed columns that bordered the peristyle--now
darkening the still moonshine that fell over its tessellated centre--now
ascending the terrace of the garden--now gliding amidst the gloomy and
breathless trees, she gained the fatal door--to find it locked! We have
all seen that expression of pain, of uncertainty, of fear, which a
sudden disappointment of touch, if I may use the expression, casts over
the face of the blind. But what words can paint the intolerable woe, the
sinking of the whole heart, which was now visible on the features of the
Thessalian? Again a