ent at having to stand still and listen to the explanation of the
monk who accompanied us and to hear the questions of this knot of
English people, I felt an incontrollable impulse to strike out for
myself into some new track, not meaning to content myself with the mere
fashionable route shown to foreigners.

I considered that I had not come there merely to have a peep at these
subterranean vaults, for the sake of being able to say when I returned
to England that I had seen the catacombs, but intended whilst I was
about it to investigate these mysterious haunts thoroughly and
conscientiously, for the sake of discovering, if possible, some
inscriptions or other relics worthy of note that I might describe in my
great archaeological work, and thus hand my name down to posterity.

The investigation of some unknown region, especially if accompanied by a
spice of danger, has always been with me a passion. I longed to be able
to do something that nobody yet had done. I could not but be aware of
the danger of my resolution to explore these dusky labyrinths without a
guide, yet I prepared myself in a measure against a contingency,
carrying in my pocket an extra roll of paper, in case that which I bore
in my hand should come to an end, and a tinder-box.

Besides this, I had filled my pockets with bread, partly in case of
extreme emergency, to sustain life, and partly to drop in crumbs behind
me as I went to mark the way. I had commenced dropping my breadcrumbs
from the very beginning and making slight excursions by myself, then
turning back to join the party of English.

Once or twice the monk called me back, and as I went and returned
several times, I suppose no notice was taken when I really did strike
out in an unbeaten track. I took an opportunity of starting when a stout
English female was assailing our ascetic friend with trivial questions
in wretched Italian.

Whilst public attention seemed engrossed I started off with my taper
through a long and apparently interminable passage, which I was told led
to Ostia, the ancient sea-port. No one called after me, so I suppose I
was not missed.

On, and still further, on I went, groping my way until I could no longer
hear the voices of the party, nor see the light of their tapers through
the dim arches of the catacombs.

"Would the monk miss me and go in search of me, thus breaking short all
hopes of my exploring expedition?" I asked myself.

To avoid this, or at least to s