rue, now to the
last, I think that you may trust me."

"Are you sure, Paullus?" she said, with a soft sad smile, yet suffering
him to retain the little hand he had imprisoned while he was
speaking--"very, very sure?"

"Will you believe me, Julia?"

"Will you be true hereafter, Paullus?"

"By all--"

"Nay! swear not by the Gods," she interrupted him; "they say the Gods
laugh at the perjury of lovers! But oh! remember, Paullus, that if you
were indeed untrue to Julia, she could but die!"

He caught her to his heart, and she for once resisted not; and, for the
first time permitted, his lips were pressed to hers in a long, chaste,
holy kiss.

"And now," he said, "my own, own Julia, I must say fare you well. My horse
awaits me at your door--my troopers are half the way hence to Praeneste."

"Nay!" she replied, blushing deeply, "but you will surely see Hortensia,
ere you go."

"It must be, then, but for a moment," he answered. "For duty calls me; and
_you_ must not tempt me to break my new-born resolution. But say, Julia,
will you tell all these things to Hortensia?"

She smiled, and laid her hand upon his mouth; but he kissed it, and drew
it down by gentle force, and repeated his question,

"Will you?"

"Not a word of it, Paul. Do you think me so foolish?"

"Then I will--one day, but not now. Meanwhile, let us go seek for her."

And, passing his arm around her slender waist, he led her gently from the
scene of so many doubts and fears, of so much happiness.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE SENATE.

Most potent, grave, and reverend Seniors.
OTHELLO.

The second morning had arrived, after that regularly appointed for the
Consular elections.

No tumult had occurred, nor any overt act to justify the apprehensions of
the people; yet had those apprehensions in no wise abated. The very
indistinctness of the rumored terror perhaps increased its weight; and so
wide-spread was the vague alarm, so prevalent the dread and excitement,
that in the haggard eyes and pale faces of the frustrated conspirators,
there was little, if anything, to call attention; for whose features wore
their natural expression, during those fearful days, each moment of which
might bring forth massacre and conflagration? Whose, but the great
Consul's?

The second morning had arrived; and the broad orb of the newly risen sun,
lurid and larger than his wont, as it struggled through the misty haze of
the Italian