He
turned away, and said he would never see her again, and he kept his word.
He never came again. He took refuge, with less restraint than was usual to
him, in such pleasures as the city could supply, and strove to drive his
sister from his mind by dissipation. He mixed in the games of the Campus
Martius under the shadow of the mountain; took part with the revellers in
the Forum, and ended the evening at the Thermae. Sometimes the image of
dear Callista, as once she looked, would rush into his mind with a force
which would not be denied, and he would weep for a whole night.

At length he determined to destroy himself, after the example of so many
great men. He gave a sumptuous entertainment, expending his means upon it,
and invited his friends to partake of it. It passed off with great gaiety;
nothing was wanting to make it equal to an occasion so special and
singular. He disclosed to his guests his purpose, and they applauded; the
last libations were made--the revellers departed--the lights were
extinguished. Aristo disappeared that night: Sicca never saw him again.
After some time it was found that he was at Carthage, and he had been
provident enough to take with him some of his best working tools, and some
specimens of his own and poor Callista's skill.

Strange to say, Jucundus proved a truer friend to the poor girl than her
brother. In spite of his selfishness and hatred of Christians, he was
considerably affected as her case got more and more serious, and it became
evident that only one answer could be returned to the magistrates from
Carthage. He was quite easy about Agellius, who had, as he considered,
successfully made off with himself, and he was reconciled to the thought
of never seeing him again. Had it not been for this, one might have
fancied that some lurking anxiety about the fate of his nephew might have
kept alive the fidget which Callista's dismal situation gave him, for the
philosopher tells us, that pity always has something in it of self; but,
under the circumstances, it would be rash judgment to have any such
suspicion of his motives. He was not a cruel man: even the "hoary-headed
Fabian," or Cyprian, or others whom he so roundly abused, would have
found, when it came to the point, that his bluster was his worst weapon
against them; at any rate he had enough of the "milk of human kindness" to
feel considerable distress about that idiotic Callista.

Yet what could he do? He might as well stop the