she was
vowing a sacrifice to the deities of Olympus. The general confusion was
distracting; as the sun rose, the anguish, physical and mental, of the
whole family greatly increased, and by noon had reached an appalling
pitch.

Dada looked on intensely disgusted, and only shook her head when one
or another of her companions was sure she felt a shock of earthquake or
heard the roll of distant thunder. She could not explain to herself why
she, who was usually timid enough, was exempt from the universal panic
though she felt deeply pitiful towards the terrified women and children.
None of them troubled themselves about her; the day dragged on with
intolerable slowness, quenching all her gay vivacity, while she was
utterly exhausted by the scorching African sun, of which, till now,
she had never known the power. At last, in the afternoon, she found
the little garden, which was by this time heated like an oven, quite
unbearable, and she looked round for Papias. The child was sitting on
the wall looking at the congregation streaming into the basilica of St.
Mark. Dada followed his example, and when the many-voiced psalms rang
out of the open door of the church, she listened to the music, for it
seemed long since she had heard any, and after wiping the perspiration
from the little boy's face with her peplos, she pointed to the building
and said: "It must be nice and cool in there."

"Of course it is," said Papias.

"It is never too hot in church. I will tell you what--we will go there."
This was a bright idea; for, thought Dada, any place must be pleasanter
than this; and she felt strongly tempted, too, to see the inside of one
of Agne's temples and to sing once more, or, at any rate, hear others
sing.

"Come along," she said, and they stole through the deserted house to get
into the street by the atrium. Medius saw them, but he made no attempt
to detain them; he had sunk into lethargic indifference. It was not an
hour since he had taken stock of his life and means, setting the small
figure of his average income against his hospitality to Dada and her
little companion; but then, again, he had calculated that, if all went
well, he might make considerable profits out of the girl and the child.
Now, he felt it was all the same to him whether he and his family and
Dada met their doom in the house or out of it.

Dada and Papias soon reached the church of St. Mark, the oldest
Christian basilica in the city. It consisted of a