pless to resist a passionate love of her?
Or, if this hope deceived him, was there no artifice with which to
cover his ill-doing, no piece of guile subtle enough to cloak such
daring infamy?

He was in the atrium, standing on the spot where first he had talked
with her. As then, he gazed at the bronze group of the candelabrum; his
eyes were fixed on those of Proserpine.

A slave entered and announced to him a visit from one of the priests
whom he was going to see when the meeting at the bridge changed his
purpose. The name startled him. Was this man sent by God? He bade
introduce the visitor, and in a moment there entered a white-bearded,
shoulder-bowed ecclesiastic, perspiring from the sunshine, who greeted
him with pleasant cordiality. This priest it was--he bore the name
Gaudiosus--who had baptized Marcian, and had given him in childhood
religious teaching; a good, but timid man, at all times readier to
praise than to reprove, a well-meaning utterer of smooth things,
closing his eyes to evil, which confused rather than offended him. From
the same newsbearer, who told him of Marcian's arrival at the villa,
Gaudiosus had heard of a mysterious lady; but it was far from his
thought to meddle with the morals of one whose noble birth and
hereditary position of patron inspired him with respect; he came only
to gossip about the affairs of the time. They sat down together,
Marcian glad of the distraction. But scarce had they been talking for
five minutes, when again the servant presented himself.

'What now?' asked his master impatiently.

'My lord, at the gate is the lord Basil.'

Marcian started up.

'Basil? How equipped and attended?'

'Armed, on horseback, and with a number of armed horsemen.'

'Withdraw, and wait outside till I call you.'

Marcian turned to the presbyter. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes
strangely bright.

'Here,' he said, in low, hurried tones, 'comes an evil man, a deep-dyed
traitor, with the aspect of friendliest integrity. I am glad you are
with me. I have no leisure now to tell you the story; you shall hear it
afterwards. What I ask of you, reverend father, is to bear me out in
all I say, to corroborate, if asked to do so, all I state to him. You
may rely upon the truth of every word I shall utter; and may be assured
that, in doing this, you serve only the cause of good. Let it not
surprise you that I receive the man with open arms. He was my dear
friend; I have only of late discovered