ed pile near the slaves' house fell down with a loud clatter.
Sirona started and drew back from the window, the grey-hound set up a
loud barking, and Hermas struck his forehead with his hand as if he were
roused from a dream.

In a few instants he had knocked at the senator's door; hardly had he
entered the house when Miriam's slight form passed across behind the
pile of stones, and vanished swiftly and silently into the slaves'
quarters. These were by this time deserted by their inhabitants, who
were busy in the field, the house, or the quarries; they consisted of a
few ill-lighted rooms with bare, unfinished walls.

The shepherdess went into the smallest, where, on a bed of palm-sticks,
lay the slave that she had wounded, and who turned over as with a hasty
hand she promptly laid a fresh, but ill-folded bandage, all askew on the
deep wound in his bend. As soon as this task was fulfilled she left the
room again, placed herself behind the half open door which led into the
court-yard, and, pressing, her brow against the stone door-post, looked
first at the senator's house, and then at Sirona's window, while her
breath came faster and faster.

A new and violent emotion was stirring her young soul; not many minutes
since she had squatted peacefully on the ground by the side of the
wounded man, with her head resting on her hand, and thinking of her
goats on the mountain. Then she had heard a slight sound in the court,
which any one else would not have noticed; but she not only perceived
it, but knew with perfect certainty with whom it originated. She could
never fail to recognize Hermas' foot-step, and it had an irresistible
effect upon her. She raised her head quickly from her hand, and her
elbow from the knee on which it was resting, sprang to her feet, and
went out into the yard. She was hidden by the mill-stones, but she could
see Hermas lost in admiration. She followed the direction of his eyes
and saw the same image which had fascinated his gaze--Sirona's lovely
form, flooded with sunlight. She looked as if formed out of snow, and
roses, and gold, like the angel at the sepulchre in the new picture in
the church. Yes, just like the angel, and the thought flew through her
mind how brown and black she was herself, and that he had called her
a she-devil. A sense of deep pain came over her, she felt as though
paralyzed in body and soul; but soon she shook off the spell, and her
heart began to beat violently; she had to b