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Home -> Henryk Sienkiewicz -> Quo Vadis -> Chapter LVI

Quo Vadis - Chapter LVI

1. Chapter 1

2. Chapter II

3. Chapter III

4. Chapter IV

5. Chapter V

6. Chapter VI

7. Chapter VII

8. Chapter VIII

9. Chapter IX

10. Chapter X

11. Chapter XI

12. Chapter XII

13. Chapter XIII

14. Chapter XIV

15. Chapter XV

16. Chapter XVI

17. Chapter XVII

18. Chapter XVIII

19. Chapter XIX

20. Chapter XX

21. Chapter XXI

22. Chapter XXII

23. Chapter XXIII

24. Chapter XXIV

25. Chapter XXV

26. Chapter XXVI

27. Chapter XXVII

28. Chapter XXVIII

29. Chapter XXIX

30. Chapter XXX

31. Chapter XXXI

32. Chapter XXXII

33. Chapter XXXIII

34. Chapter XXXIV

35. Chapter XXXV

36. Chapter XXXVI

37. Chapter XXXVII

38. Chapter XXXVIII

39. Chapter XXXIX

40. Chapter XL

41. Chapter XLI

42. Chapter XLII

43. Chapter XLIII

44. Chapter XLIV

45. Chapter XLV

46. Chapter XLVI

47. Chapter XLVII

48. Chapter XLVIII

49. Chapter XLIX

50. Chapter L

51. Chapter LI

52. Chapter LII

53. Chapter LIII

54. Chapter LIV

55. Chapter LV

56. Chapter LVI

57. Chapter LVII

58. Chapter LVIII

59. Chapter LIX

60. Chapter LX

61. Chapter LXI

62. Chapter LXII

63. Chapter LXIII

64. Chapter LXIV

65. Chapter LXV

66. Chapter LXVI

67. Chapter LXVII

68. Chapter LXVIII

69. Chapter LXIX

70. Chapter LXX

71. Chapter LXXI

72. Chapter LXXII

73. Chapter LXXIII

74. Epilogue







Chapter LVI

THE sun had lowered toward its setting, and seemed to dissolve in the
red of the evening. The spectacle was finished. Crowds were leaving the
amphitheatre and pouring out to the city through the passages called
vomitoria. Only Augustians delayed; they were waiting for the stream of
people to pass. They had all left their seats and assembled at the
podium, in which Cæsar appeared again to hear praises. Though the
spectators had not spared plaudits at the end of the song, Nero was not
satisfied; he had looked for enthusiasm touching on frenzy. In vain did
hymns of praise sound in his ears; in vain did vestals kiss his "divine"
hand, and while doing so Rubria bent till her reddish hair touched his
breast. Nero was not satisfied, and could not hide the fact. He was
astonished and also disturbed because Petronius was silent. Some
flattering and pointed word from his mouth would have been a great
consolation at that moment. Unable at last to restrain himself, Cæsar
beckoned to the arbiter.

"Speak," said he, when Petronius entered the podium.

"I am silent," answered Petronius, coldly, "for I cannot find words.
Thou hast surpassed thyself."

"So it seemed to me too; but still this people--"

"Canst thou expect mongrels to appreciate poetry?"

"But thou too hast noticed that they have not thanked me as I deserve."

"Because thou hast chosen a bad moment."

"How?"

"When men's brains are filled with the odor of blood, they cannot listen
attentively."

"Ah, those Christians!" replied Nero, clenching his fists. "They burned
Rome, and injure me now in addition. What new punishment shall I invent
for them?"

Petronius saw that he had taken the wrong road, that his words had
produced an effect the very opposite of what he intended; so, to turn
Cæsar's mind in another direction, he bent toward him and whispered,--

"Thy song is marvellous, but I will make one remark: in the fourth line
of the third strophe the metre leaves something to be desired."

Nero, blushing with shame, as if caught in a disgraceful deed, had fear
in his look, and answered in a whisper also,--

"Thou seest everything. I know. I will re-write that. But no one else
noticed it, I think. And do thou, for the love of the gods, mention it
to no one,--if life is dear to thee."

To this Petronius answered, as if in an outburst of vexation and anger,

"Condemn me to death, O divinity, if I deceive thee; but thou wilt not
terrify me, for the gods know best of all if I fear death."

And while speaking he looked straight into Cæsar's eyes, who answered
after a while,--

"Be not angry; thou knowest that I love thee."

"A bad sign!" thought Petronius.

"I wanted to invite thee to-day to a feast," continued Nero, "but I
prefer to shut myself in and polish that cursed line in the third
strophe. Besides thee Seneca may have noticed it, and perhaps Secundus
Carinas did; but I will rid myself of them quickly."

Then he summoned Seneca, and declared that with Acratus and Secundus
Carinas, he sent him to the Italian and all other provinces for money,
which he commanded him to obtain from cities, villages, famous temples,
--in a word, from every place where it was possible to find money, or
from which they could force it. But Seneca, who saw that Cæsar was
confiding to him a work of plunder, sacrilege, and robbery, refused
straightway.

"I must go to the country, lord," said he, "and await death, for I am
old and my nerves are sick."

Seneca's Iberian nerves were stronger than Chilos; they were not sick,
perhaps, but in general his health was bad, for he seemed like a shadow,
and recently his hair had grown white altogether.

Nero, too, when he looked at him, thought that he would not have to wait
long for the man's death, and answered,--

"I will not expose thee to a journey if thou art ill, but through
affection I wish to keep thee near me. Instead of going to the country,
then, thou wilt stay in thy own house, and not leave it."

Then he laughed, and said, "If I send Acratus and Carinas by themselves,
it will be like sending wolves for sheep. Whom shall I set above them?"

"Me, lord," said Domitius Afer.

"No! I have no wish to draw on Rome the wrath of Mercury, whom ye would
put to shame with your villainy. I need some stoic like Seneca, or like
my new friend, the philosopher Chilo."

Then he looked around, and asked,--

"But what has happened to Chilo?"

Chilo, who had recovered in the open air and returned to the
amphitheatre for Cæsar's song, pushed up, and said,--

"I am here, O Radiant Offspring of the sun and moon. I was ill, but thy
song has restored me."

"I will send thee to Achæa," said Nero. "Thou must know to a copper how
much there is in each temple there."

"Do so, O Zeus, and the gods will give thee such tribute as they have
never given any one."

"I would, but I do not like to prevent thee from seeing the games."

"Baal!" said Chilo.

The Augustians, delighted that Cæsar had regained humor, fell to
laughing, and exclaimed,--

"No, lord, deprive not this valiant Greek of a sight of the games."

"But preserve me, O lord, from the sight of these noisy geese of the
Capitol, whose brains put together would not fill a nutshell," retorted
Chilo. "O firstborn of Apollo, I am writing a Greek hymn in thy honor,
and I wish to spend a few days in the temple of the Muses to implore
inspiration."

"Oh, no!" exclaimed Nero. "It is thy wish to escape future games.
Nothing will come of that!"

"I swear to thee, lord, that I am writing a hymn."

"Then thou wilt write it at night. Beg inspiration of Diana, who, by
the way, is a sister of Apollo."

Chilo dropped his head and looked with malice on those present, who
began to laugh again. Cæsar, turning to Senecio and Suilius Nerulinus,
said,--

"Imagine, of the Christians appointed for to-day we have been able to
finish hardly half!"

At this old Aquilus Regulus, who had great knowledge of everything
touching the amphitheatre, thought a while, and said,--

"Spectacles in which people appear sine armis et sine arte last almost
as long and are less entertaining."

"I will command to give them weapons," answered Nero.

But the superstitious Vestinius was roused from meditation at once, and
asked in a mysterious voice,--

"Have ye noticed that when dying they see something? They look up, and
die as it were without pain. I am sure that they see something."

He raised his eyes then to the opening of the amphitheatre, over which
night had begun to extend its velarium dotted with stars. But others
answered with laughter and jesting suppositions as to what the
Christians could see at the moment of death. Meanwhile Cæsar gave a
signal to the slave torch-bearers, and left the Circus; after him
followed vestals, senators, dignitaries, and Augustians.

The night was clear and warm. Before the Circus were moving throngs of
people, curious to witness the departure of Cæsar; but in some way they
were gloomy and silent. Here and there applause was heard, but it
ceased quickly. From the spoliarium creaking carts bore away the bloody
remnants of Christians.

Petronius and Vinicius passed over their road in silence. Only when
near his villa did Petronius inquire,--

"Hast thou thought of what I told thee?" "I have," answered Vinicius.

"Dost believe that for me too this is a question of the highest
importance? I must liberate her in spite of Cæsar and Tigellinus. This
is a kind of battle in which I have undertaken to conquer, a kind of
play in which I wish to win, even at the cost of my life. This day has
confirmed me still more in my plan."

"May Christ reward thee."

"Thou wilt see."

Thus conversing, they stopped at the door of the villa and descended
from the litter. At that moment a dark figure approached them, and
asked,--

"Is the noble Vinicius here?"

"He is," answered the tribune. "What is thy wish?"

"I am Nazarius, the son of Miriam. I come from the prison, and bring
tidings of Lygia."

Vinicius placed his hand on the young man's shoulder and looked into his
eyes by the torchlight, without power to speak a word, but Nazarius
divined the question which was dying on his lips, and replied,--

"She is living yet. Ursus sent me to say that she prays in her fever,
and repeats thy name."

"Praise be to Christ, who has power to restore her to me," said
Vinicius. He conducted Nazarius to the library, and after a while
Petronius came in to hear their conversation.

"Sickness saved her from shame, for executioners are timid," said the
youth. "Ursus and Glaucus the physician watch over her night and day."

"Are the guards the same?"

"They are, and she is in their chamber. All the prisoners in the lower
dungeon died of fever, or were stifled from foul air."

"Who art thou?" inquired Petronins.

"The noble Vinicius knows me. I am the son of that widow with whom
Lygia lodged."

"And a Christian?"

The youth looked with inquiring glance at Vinicius, but, seeing him in
prayer, he raised his head, and answered,--

"I am."

"How canst thou enter the prison freely?"

"I hired myself to carry out corpses; I did so to assist my brethren and
bring them news from the city."

Petronius looked more attentively at the comely face of the youth, his
blue eyes, and dark, abundant hair.

"From what country art thou, youth?" asked he.

"I am a Galilean, lord."

"Wouldst thou like to see Lygia free?"

The youth raised his eyes. "Yes, even had I to die afterwards."

Then Vinicius ceased to pray, and said,--

"Tell the guards to place her in a coffin as if she were dead. Thou
wilt find assistants to bear her out in the night with thee. Near the
'Putrid Pits' will be people with a litter waiting for you; to them ye
will give the coffin. Promise the guards from me as much gold as each
can carry in his mantle."

While speaking, his face lost its usual torpor, and in him was roused
the soldier to whom hope had restored his former energy.

Nazarius was flushed with delight, and, raising his hands, he exclaimed,

"May Christ give her health, for she will be free."

"Dost thou think that the guards will consent?" inquired Petronius.

"They, lord? Yes, if they know that punishment and torture will not
touch them."

"The guards would consent to her flight; all the more will they let us
bear her out as a corpse," said Vinicius.

"There is a man, it is true," said Nazarius, "who burns with red-hot
iron to see if the bodies which we carry out are dead. But he will take
even a few sestertia not to touch the face of the dead with iron. For
one aureus he will touch the coffin, not the body."

"Tell him that he will get a cap full of aurei," said Petronius. "But
canst thou find reliable assistants?"

"I can find men who would sell their own wives and children for money."

"Where wilt thou find them?"

"In the prison itself or in the city. Once the guards are paid, they
will admit whomever I like."

"In that case take me as a hired servant," said Vinicius.

But Petronius opposed this most earnestly. "The pretorians might
recognize thee even in disguise, and all would be lost. Go neither to
the prison nor the 'Putrid Pits.' All, including Cæsar and Tigellinus,
should be convinced that she died; otherwise they will order immediate
pursuit. We can lull suspicion only in this way: When she is taken to
the Alban Hills or farther, to Sicily, we shall be in Rome. A week or
two later thou wilt fall ill, and summon Nero's physician; he will tell
thee to go to the mountains. Thou and she will meet, and afterward--"

Here he thought a while; then, waving his hand, he said,--

"Other times may come."

"May Christ have mercy on her," said Vinicius. "Thou art speaking of
Sicily, while she is sick and may die."

"Let us keep her nearer Rome at first. The air alone will restore her,
if only we snatch her from the dungeon. Hast thou no manager in the
mountains whom thou canst trust?"

"I have," replied Vinicius, hurriedly. "Near Corioli is a reliable man
who carried me in his arms when I was a child, and who loves me yet."

"Write to him to come to-morrow," said Petronius, handing Vinicius
tablets. "I will send a courier at once."

He called the chief of the atrium then, and gave the needful orders. A
few minutes later, a mounted slave was coursing in the night toward
Corioli.

"It would please me were Ursus to accompany her," said Vinicius. "I
should be more at rest."

"Lord," said Nazarius, "that is a man of superhuman strength; he can
break gratings and follow her. There is one window above a steep, high
rock where no guard is placed. I will take Ursus a rope; the rest he
will do himself."

"By Hercules!" said Petronius, "let him tear himself out as he pleases,
but not at the same time with her, and not two or three days later, for
they would follow him and discover her hiding-place. By Hercules! do ye
wish to destroy yourselves and her? I forbid you to name Corioli to
him, or I wash my hands."

Both recognized the justice of these words, and were silent. Nazarius
took leave, promising to come the next morning at daybreak.

He hoped to finish that night with the guards, but wished first to run
in to see his mother, who in that uncertain and dreadful time had no
rest for a moment thinking of her son. After some thought he had
determined not to seek an assistant in the city, but to find and bribe
one from among his fellow corpse-bearers. When going, he stopped, and,
taking Vinicius aside, whispered,--

"I will not mention our plan to any one, not even to my mother, but the
Apostle Peter promised to come from the amphitheatre to our house; I
will tell him everything."

"Here thou canst speak openly," replied Vinicius. "The Apostle was in
the amphitheatre with the people of Petronius. But I will go with you
myself."

He gave command to bring him a slave's mantle, and they passed out.
Petronius sighed deeply.

"I wished her to die of that fever," thought he, "since that would have
been less terrible for Vinicius. But now I am ready to offer a golden
tripod to Esculapius for her health. Ah! Ahenobarbus, thou hast the
wish to turn a lover's pain into a spectacle; thou, Augusta, wert
jealous of the maiden's beauty, and wouldst devour her alive because thy
Rufius has perished. Thou, Tigellinus, wouldst destroy her to spite me!
We shall see. I tell you that your eyes will not behold her on the
arena, for she will either die her own death, or I shall wrest her from
you as from the jaws of dogs, and wrest her in such fashion that ye
shall not know it; and as often afterward as I look at you I shall
think, These are the fools whom Caius Petronius outwitted."

And, self-satisfied, he passed to the triclinium, where he sat down to
supper with Eunice. During the meal a lector read to them the Idyls of
Theocritus. Out of doors the wind brought clouds from the direction of
Soracte, and a sudden storm broke the silence of the calm summer night.
From time to time thunder reverberated on the seven hills, while they,
reclining near each other at the table, listened to the bucolic poet,
who in the singing Doric dialect celebrated the loves of shepherds.
Later on, with minds at rest, they prepared for sweet slumber.

But before this Vinicius returned. Petronius heard of his coming, and
went to meet him.

"Well? Have ye fixed anything new?" inquired he. "Has Nazarius gone to
the prison?"

"He has," answered the young man, arranging his hair, wet from the rain.
"Nazarius went to arrange with the guards, and I have seen Peter, who
commanded me to pray and believe."

"That is well. If all goes favorably, we can bear her away to-morrow
night."

"My manager must be here at daybreak with men."

"The road is a short one. Now go to rest."

But Vinicius knelt in his cubiculum and prayed.

At sunrise Niger, the manager, arrived from Corioli, bringing with him,
at the order of Vinicius, mules, a litter, and four trusty men selected
among slaves from Britain, whom, to save appearances, he had left at an
inn in the Subura. Vinicius, who had watched all night, went to meet
him. Niger, moved at sight of his youthful master, kissed his hands and
eyes, saying,--

"My dear, thou art ill, or else suffering has sucked the blood from thy
face, for hardly did I know thee at first."

Vinicius took him to the interior colonnade, and there admitted him to
the secret. Niger listened with fixed attention, and on his dry,
sunburnt face great emotion was evident; this he did not even try to
master.

"Then she is a Christian?" exclaimed Niger; and he looked inquiringly
into the face of Vinicius, who divined evidently what the gaze of the
countryman was asking, since he answered,--

"I too am a Christian."

Tears glistened in Niger's eyes that moment. He was silent for a while;
then, raising his hands, he said,--

"I thank Thee, O Christ, for having taken the beam from eyes which are
the dearest on earth to me."

Then he embraced the head of Vinicius, and, weeping from happiness, fell
to kissing his forehead. A moment later, Petronius appeared, bringing
Nazarius.

"Good news!" cried he, while still at a distance.

Indeed, the news was good. First, Glaucus the physician guaranteed
Lygia's life, though she had the same prison fever of which, in the
Tullianum and other dungeons, hundreds of people were dying daily. As
to the guards and the man who tried corpses with red-hot iron, there was
not the least difficulty. Attys, the assistant, was satisfied also.

"We made openings in the coffin to let the sick woman breathe," said
Nazarius. "The only danger is that she may groan or speak as we pass
the pretorians. But she is very weak, and is lying with closed eyes
since early morning. Besides, Glaucus will give her a sleeping draught
prepared by himself from drugs brought by me purposely from the city.
The cover will not be nailed to the coffin; ye will raise it easily and
take the patient to the litter. We will place in the coffin a long bag
of sand, which ye will provide."

Vinicius, while hearing these words, was as pale as linen; but he
listened with such attention that he seemed to divine at a glance what
Nazarius had to say.

"Will they carry out other bodies from the prison?" inquired Petronius.

"About twenty died last night, and before evening more will be dead,"
said the youth. "We must go with a whole company, but we will delay and
drop into the rear. At the first corner my comrade will get lame
purposely. In that way we shall remain behind the others considerably.
Ye will wait for us at the small temple of Libitina. May God give a
night as dark as possible!"

"He will," said Niger. "Last evening was bright, and then a sudden
storm came. To-day the sky is clear, but since morning it is sultry.
Every night now there will be wind and rain."

"Will ye go without torches?" inquired Vinicius.

"The torches are carried only in advance. In every event, be near the
temple of Libitina at dark, though usually we carry out the corpses only
just before midnight."

They stopped. Nothing was to be heard save the hurried breathing of
Vinicius. Petronius turned to him,--

"I said yesterday that it would be best were we both to stay at home,
but now I see that I could not stay. Were it a question of flight,
there would be need of the greatest caution; but since she will be borne
out as a corpse, it seems that not the least suspicion will enter the
head of any one."

"True, true!" answered Vinicius. "I must be there. I will take her
from the coffin myself."

"Once she is in my house at Corioli, I answer for her," said Niger.
Conversation stopped here. Niger returned to his men at the inn.
Nazarius took a purse of gold under his tunic and went to the prison.
For Vinicius began a day filled with alarm, excitement, disquiet, and
hope.

"The undertaking ought to succeed, for it is well planned," said
Petronius. "It was impossible to plan better. Thou must feign
suffering, and wear a dark toga. Do not desert the amphitheatre. Let
people see thee. All is so fixed that there cannot be failure. But--
art thou perfectly sure of thy manager?"

"He is a Christian," replied Vinicius.

Petronius looked at him with amazement, then shrugged his shoulders, and
said, as if in soliloquy,--

"By Pollux! how it spreads, and commands people's souls. Under such
terror as the present, men would renounce straightway all the gods of
Rome, Greece, and Egypt. Still, this is wonderful! By Pollux! if I
believed that anything depended on our gods, I would sacrifice six white
bullocks to each of them, and twelve to Capitoline Jove. Spare no
promises to thy Christ."

"I have given Him my soul," said Vinicius.

And they parted. Petronius returned to his cubiculum; but Vinicius went
to look from a distance at the prison, and thence betook himself to the
slope of the Vatican hill,--to that hut of the quarryman where he had
received baptism from the hands of the Apostle. It seemed to him that
Christ would hear him more readily there than in any other place; so
when he found it, he threw himself on the ground and exerted all the
strength of his suffering soul in prayer for mercy, and so forgot
himself that he remembered not where he was or what he was doing. In
the afternoon he was roused by the sound of trumpets which came from the
direction of Nero's Circus. He went out of the hut, and gazed around
with eyes which were as if just opened from sleep.

It was hot; the stillness was broken at intervals by the sound of brass
and continually by the ceaseless noise of grasshoppers. The air had
become sultry, the sky was still clear over the city, but near the
Sabine Hills dark clouds were gathering at the edge of the horizon.

Vinicius went home. Petronius was waiting for him in the atrium.

"I have been on the Palatine," said he. "I showed myself there
purposely, and even sat down at dice. There is a feast at the house of
Anicius this evening; I promised to go, but only after midnight, saying
that I must sleep before that hour. In fact I shall be there, and it
would be well wert thou to go also."

"Are there no tidings from Niger or Nazarius?" inquired Vinicius.

"No; we shall see them only at midnight. Hast noticed that a storm is
threatening?"

"Yes."

"To-morrow there is to be an exhibition of crucified Christians, but
perhaps rain will prevent it."

Then he drew nearer and said, touching his nephew's shoulder,--"But thou
wilt not see her on the cross; thou wilt see her only in Corioli. By
Castor! I would not give the moment in which we free her for all the
gems in Rome. The evening is near."

In truth the evening was near, and darkness began to encircle the city
earlier than usual because clouds covered the whole horizon. With the
coming of night heavy rain fell, which turned into steam on the stones
warmed by the heat of the day, and filled the streets of the city with
mist. After that came a lull, then brief violent showers.

"Let us hurry!" said Vinicius at last; "they may carry bodies from the
prison earlier because of the storm."

"It is time!" said Petronius.

And taking Gallic mantles with hoods, they passed through the garden
door to the street. Petronius had armed himself with a short Roman
knife called sicca, which he took always during night trips.

The city was empty because of the storm. From time to time lightning
rent the clouds, illuminating with its glare the fresh walls of houses
newly built or in process of building and the wet flag-stones with which
the streets were paved. At last a flash came, when they saw, after a
rather long road, the mound on which stood the small temple of Libitina,
and at the foot of the mound a group of mules and horses.

"Niger!" called Vinicius, in a low voice.

"I am here, lord," said a voice in the rain.

"Is everything ready?"

"It is. We were here at dark. But hide yourselves under the rampart,
or ye will be drenched. What a storm! Hail will fall, I think."

In fact Niger's fear was justified, for soon hail began to fall, at
first fine, then larger and more frequent. The air grew cold at once.
While standing under the rampart, sheltered from the wind and icy
missiles, they conversed in low voices.

"Even should some one see us," said Niger, "there will be no suspicion;
we look like people waiting for the storm to pass. But I fear that they
may not bring the bodies out till morning."

"The hail-storm will not last," said Petronius. "We must wait even till
daybreak."

They waited, listening to hear the sound of the procession. The
hail-storm passed, but immediately after a shower began to roar. At
times the wind rose, and brought from the "Putrid Pits" a dreadful odor
of decaying bodies, buried near the surface and carelessly.

"I see a light through the mist," said Niger,--"one, two, three,--those
are torches. See that the mules do not snort," said he, turning to the
men.

"They are coming!" said Petronius.

The lights were growing more and more distinct. After a time it was
possible to see torches under the quivering flames.

Niger made the sign of the cross, and began to pray. Meanwhile the
gloomy procession drew nearer, and halted at last in front of the temple
of Libitina. Petronius, Vinicius, and Niger pressed up to the rampart
in silence, not knowing why the halt was made. But the men had stopped
only to cover their mouths and faces with cloths to ward off the
stifling stench which at the edge of the "Putrid Pits" was simply
unendurable; then they raised the biers with coffins and moved on. Only
one coffin stopped before the temple. Vinicius sprang toward it, and
after him Petronius, Niger, and two British slaves with the litter.

But before they had reached it in the darkness, the voice of Nazarius
was heard, full of pain,--

"Lord, they took her with Ursus to the Esquiline prison. We are
carrying another body! They removed her before midnight."

Petronius, when he had returned home, was gloomy as a storm, and did not
even try to console Vinicius. He understood that to free Lygia from the
Esquiline dungeons was not to be dreamed of. He divined that very
likely she had been taken from the Tullianum so as not to die of fever
and escape the amphitheatre assigned to her. But for this very reason
she was watched and guarded more carefully than others. From the bottom
of his soul Petronius was sorry for her and Vinicius, but he was wounded
also by the thought that for the first time in life he had not
succeeded, and for the first time was beaten in a struggle.

"Fortune seems to desert me," said he to himself, "but the gods are
mistaken if they think that I will accept such a life as his, for
example."

Here he turned toward Vinicius, who looked at him with staring eyes.
"What is the matter? Thou hast a fever," said Petronius.

But Vinicius answered with a certain strange, broken, halting voice,
like that of a sick child,--"But I believe that He--can restore her to
me."

Above the city the last thunders of the storm had ceased.




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