f the
slaves went to the stables, others went outside the gate into the street
to enjoy the coolness of the evening; they sat in groups on the ground,
looking up at the stars, chattering or singing. Only the shepherdess
remained in the court-yard seeking him on all sides, as if she were
hunting for some lost trinket. She searched even behind the millstones,
and in the dark sheds in which the stone-workers' tools were kept.

Then she stood still a moment and clenched her hands; with a few light
bounds she sprang into the shadow of the Gaul's house. Just in front
of Sirona's window lay the steinbock; she hastily touched it with her
slender naked toes, but quickly withdrew her foot with a shudder, for
it had touched the beast's fresh wound, wet with its blood. She rapidly
drew the conclusion that: he had killed it, and had thrown it down
here, and that he could not be far off. Now she knew where he was in
hiding-and she tried to laugh, for the pain she felt seemed too acute
and burning for tears to allay or cool it. But she did not wholly lose
her power of reflection. "They are in the dark," thought she, "and they
would see me, if I crept under the window to listen; and yet I must know
what they are doing there together."

She hastily turned her back on Sirona's house, slipped into the clear
moonlight, and after standing there for a few minutes, went into
the slaves' quarters. An instant after, she slipped out behind the
millstones, and crept as cleverly and as silently as a snake along the
ground under the darkened base of the centurion's house, and lay close
under Sirona's window.

Her loudly beating heart made it difficult for even her sharp ears
to hear, but though she could not gather all that he said, she
distinguished the sound of his voice; he was no longer in Sirona's room,
but in the room that looked out on the street.

Now she could venture to raise herself, and to look in at the open
window; the door of communication between the two rooms was closed, but
a streak of light showed her that in the farther room, which was the
sitting-room, a lamp was burning.

She had already put up her hand in order to hoist herself up into the
dark room, when a gay laugh from Sirona fell upon her ear. The image of
her enemy rose up before her mind, brilliant and flooded with light as
on that morning, when Hermas had stood just opposite, bewildered by her
fascination. And now--now--he was actually lying at her feet, and sayin