nd
are in the very spot which we quitted an hour ago.'

'O gods! yon rock--see, it hath riven the roof before us! It is death
to move through the streets!'

'Blessed lightning! See, Ione--see! the portico of the Temple of
Fortune is before us. Let us creep beneath it; it will protect us from
the showers.'

He caught his beloved in his arms, and with difficulty and labor gained
the temple. He bore her to the remoter and more sheltered part of the
portico, and leaned over her, that he might shield her, with his own
form, from the lightning and the showers! The beauty and the
unselfishness of love could hallow even that dismal time!

'Who is there?' said the trembling and hollow voice of one who had
preceded them in their place of refuge. 'Yet, what matters?--the crush
of the ruined world forbids to us friends or foes.'

Ione turned at the sound of the voice, and, with a faint shriek, cowered
again beneath the arms of Glaucus: and he, looking in the direction of
the voice, beheld the cause of her alarm. Through the darkness glared
forth two burning eyes--the lightning flashed and lingered athwart the
temple--and Glaucus, with a shudder, perceived the lion to which he had
been doomed couched beneath the pillars--and, close beside it, unwitting
of the vicinity, lay the giant form of him who had accosted them--the
wounded gladiator, Niger.

That lightning had revealed to each other the form of beast and man; yet
the instinct of both was quelled. Nay, the lion crept nearer and nearer
to the gladiator, as for companionship; and the gladiator did not recede
or tremble. The revolution of Nature had dissolved her lighter terrors
as well as her wonted ties.

While they were thus terribly protected, a group of men and women,
bearing torches, passed by the temple. They were of the congregation of
the Nazarenes; and a sublime and unearthly emotion had not, indeed,
quelled their awe, but it had robbed awe of fear. They had long
believed, according to the error of the early Christians, that the Last
Day was at hand; they imagined now that the Day had come.

'Woe! woe!' cried, in a shrill and piercing voice, the elder at their
head. 'Behold! the Lord descendeth to judgment! He maketh fire come
down from heaven in the sight of men! Woe! woe! ye strong and mighty!
Woe to ye of the fasces and the purple! Woe to the idolater and the
worshipper of the beast! Woe to ye who pour forth the blood of saints,
and gloat over