waves the storm of cinders and rock fell without
the protection which the streets and roofs afforded to the land.
Wild--haggard--ghastly with supernatural fears, these groups encountered
each other, but without the leisure to speak, to consult, to advise; for
the showers fell now frequently, though not continuously, extinguishing
the lights, which showed to each band the deathlike faces of the other,
and hurrying all to seek refuge beneath the nearest shelter. The whole
elements of civilization were broken up. Ever and anon, by the
flickering lights, you saw the thief hastening by the most solemn
authorities of the law, laden with, and fearfully chuckling over, the
produce of his sudden gains. If, in the darkness, wife was separated
from husband, or parent from child, vain was the hope of reunion. Each
hurried blindly and confusedly on. Nothing in all the various and
complicated machinery of social life was left save the primal law of
self-preservation!

Through this awful scene did the Athenian wade his way, accompanied by
Ione and the blind girl. Suddenly, a rush of hundreds, in their path to
the sea, swept by them. Nydia was torn from the side of Glaucus, who,
with Ione, was borne rapidly onward; and when the crowd (whose forms
they saw not, so thick was the gloom) were gone, Nydia was still
separated from their side. Glaucus shouted her name. No answer came.
They retraced their steps--in vain: they could not discover her--it was
evident she had been swept along some opposite direction by the human
current. Their friend, their preserver, was lost! And hitherto Nydia
had been their guide. Her blindness rendered the scene familiar to her
alone. Accustomed, through a perpetual night, to thread the windings of
the city, she had led them unerringly towards the sea-shore, by which
they had resolved to hazard an escape. Now, which way could they wend?
all was rayless to them--a maze without a clue. Wearied, despondent,
bewildered, they, however, passed along, the ashes falling upon their
heads, the fragmentary stones dashing up in sparkles before their feet.

'Alas! alas!' murmured Ione, 'I can go no farther; my steps sink among
the scorching cinders. Fly, dearest!--beloved, fly! and leave me to my
fate!'

'Hush, my betrothed! my bride! Death with thee is sweeter than life
without thee! Yet, whither--oh! whither, can we direct ourselves
through the gloom? Already it seems that we have made but a circle, a