deeper shadow over the gloomy
solitude. So rough and broken was the surface of the ground, so numerous
the low mounds which alone covered the ashes of the humbler dead, that
they were long in reaching the vicinity of the spot where that fell deed
had been done so recently. When they had come, however, to the foot of the
descent, where it swept gently downward to the boundary wall, the young
man took the torch from his attendant, and waving it with a slow movement
to and fro, surveyed the ground with close and narrow scrutiny. He had not
moved in this manner above a dozen paces, before a bright quick flash
seemed to shoot up from the long thick herbage as the glare of the torch
passed over it. Another step revealed the nature and the cause of that
brief gleam; a ray had fallen full on the polished blade of Cataline's
stiletto, which lay, where it had been cast by the expiring effort of the
victim, hilt downward in the tangled weeds.

He seized it eagerly, but shuddered, as he beheld the fresh dark gore
curdling on the broad steel, and clotted round the golden guard of the
rich weapon.

"Ha!" he exclaimed, "I am right, Thrasea. Foul murder hath been done here!
Let us look farther."

Several minutes now were spent in searching every foot of ground, and
prying even into the open vaults of several broken graves; for at first
they had taken a wrong direction in the gloom. Quickly, however, seeing
that he was in error, Arvina turned upon his traces, and was almost
immediately successful; for there, scarce twenty feet from the spot where
he had found the dagger, with his grim gory face turned upward as if
reproachfully to the dark quiet skies, the black death-sweat still beaded
on his frowning brow, and a sardonic grin distorting his pale lips, lay
the dead slave. Flat on his back, with his arms stretched out right and
left, his legs extended close together to their full length, he lay even
as he had fallen; for not a struggle had convulsed his limbs after he
struck the earth; life having actually fled while he yet stood erect,
battling with all the energies of soul and body against man's latest
enemy. The bosom of his gray tunic, rent asunder, displayed the deep gash
which had let out the spirit, whence the last drops of the thick crimson
life-blood were ebbing with a slow half-stagnant motion.

On this dread sight Paul was still gazing in that motionless and painful
silence, with which the boldest cannot fail to look upon