ace ominous of evil, if
not unsafe and perilous.

The mind of Paul, however, if not entirely free from any touch of
superstitious awe, which at that period of the world would have been a
thing altogether unnatural and impossible, was at least of too firm a
mould to shake at mere imaginary terrors; and he strode on, lighted by his
torch-bearer, through the dark mazes of the orchard, with all his thoughts
engrossed by the pleasant reminiscences of the past evening. Thoughtless,
however, as he was, and bold, he yet recoiled a step, and the blood rushed
tumultuously to his heart, as a loud yelling cry, protracted strangely,
and ending in a sound midway between a groan and a burst of horrid
laughter, rose awfully upon the silent night; and it required an effort to
man his heart against a feeling, which crept through him, nearly akin to
fear.

But with the freedman Thrasea it was a very different matter, for he shook
so much with absolute terror, that he had well nigh dropped the torch;
while, drawing nearer to his master's side, with teeth that chattered as
if in an ague fit, and a face deserted by every particle of color, he
besought him in faltering accents, "by all the Gods! to turn back
instantly, lest evil might come of it!"

His entreaties were, however, of no avail with the brave youth, who in a
moment had shaken off his transitory terror, and was now resolute, not
only to proceed on his homeward route, but to investigate the cause and
meaning of the outcry.

"Silence!" he said, somewhat sternly, in answer to the reiterated prayers
of the trembling servitor, "Silence! and follow, idiot! That was no
superhuman voice--no yell of nightly lemures, but the death-cry, if I err
not more widely, of some frail mortal like ourselves. There may be time,
however, yet to save him, and I so truly marked the quarter whence it
rose, that I doubt not we may discover him. Advance the light; lo! we are
at the wall. Lower thy torch now, that I may undo the wicket. Give me thy
club and keep close at my heels bearing the flambeau high!"

And with the words he strode out rapidly into the wide desolate expanse of
the plebeian grave yard. It was a broad bleak space, comprising the whole
table land and southern slope of the Esquiline hill, broken with many deep
ravines and gulleys, worn by the wintry rains, covered with deep rank
grass and stunted bushes, with here and there a grove of towering
cypresses, or dark funereal yews, casting a