uted
the crowd, as they dispersed quietly to their homes.

"Arvina, come with me. To whom told you, that you had found, and Volero
sold, this dagger?" he asked very sternly.

"To no one, Cicero. Marcus Aurelius Victor, and Aristius Fuscus were with
me, when he recognized it for his work?"

"No one else?"

"No one, save our slaves, and they," he added in a breath, "could not have
heard what passed."

"Hath no one else seen it?"

"As I was stripping for the contests on the Campus, Catiline saw it in my
girdle, and admired its fabric."

"Catiline!"

"Ay! Consul?"

"And you told _him_ that Volero had made it?"

"Consul, no!" But, with the word, he turned as white as marble. Had it
been daylight, his face had betrayed him; as it was, Cicero observed that
his voice trembled.

"Catiline is the man!" he said solemnly, "the man who slew Medon
yesternight, who has slain Volero now. Catiline is the man; but this
craves wary walking. Young man, young man, beware! methinks you are on the
verge of great danger. Get thee home to thy bed; and again I say, Beware!"

CHAPTER VIII.

THE TRUE LOVE.

Dear, my Lord,
Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.
JULIUS CAESAR.

The sun rose clear and bright on the following morning; the air was fresh
and exhilarating, and full of mirthful inspiration. But Paullus Arvina
rose unrefreshed and languid, with his mind ill at ease; for the reaction
which succeeds ever to the reign of any vehement excitement, had fallen on
him with its depressing weight; and not that only, but keen remorse for
the past, and, if possible, anxiety yet keener for the future.

Disastrous dreams had beset his sleeping hours; and, at his waking, they
and the true occurrences of the past day, seemed all blended and confused
into one horrible and hideous vision.

Now he envisaged the whole dark reality of his past conduct, of his
present situation. Lucia, the charming siren of the previous evening,
appeared in her real colors, as the immodest, passionate wanton; Catiline
as the monster that indeed he was!

And yet, alas! alas! as the clear perception of the truth dawned on him,
it was but coupled with a despairing sense, that to these he was linked
inevitably and forever.

The oath! the awful oath which he had sworn in the fierce whirl of
passion, registered by the arch-traitor--the oath involving, not alone, his
own temporal and eternal welfare