sojourning at Neapolis; and, when
Aurelia inquired what business held him there, her cousin answered
truly that he did not know.

'Do you trust him?' asked the lady, after a thoughtful pause.

'Marcian? As I trust myself!'

One of the boatmen coming within earshot, their conversation ceased.

The hour before noon saw them drawing near to land. They left on the
right the little island of Nesis, and drew towards Puteoli. On the left
lay Baiae, all but forsaken, its ancient temples and villas stretching
along the shore from the Lucrine lake to the harbour shadowed by Cape
Misenum; desolate magnificence, marble overgrown with ivy, gardens
where the rose grew wild, and terraces crumbling into the sea. Basil
and Aurelia looked upon these things with an eye made careless by
familiarity; all their lives ruin had lain about them, deserted
sanctuaries of a bygone creed, unpeopled homes of a vanished greatness.

As the boat advanced into the bay, it lost the wind, and rowing again
became needful. Thus they entered the harbour of Puteoli, where the
travellers disembarked.

Hard by the port was a tavern, which, owing to its position midway
between Neapolis and Cumae, still retained something of its character
as a _mansio_ of the posting service; but the vehicles and quadrupeds
of which it boasted were no longer held in strict reserve for state
officials and persons privileged. Gladly the innkeeper put at Basil's
disposal his one covered carriage, a trifle cleaner inside than it was
without, and a couple of saddle horses, declared to be Sicilian, but
advanced in age. Thus, with slight delay, the party pursued their
journey, Basil and his man riding before the carriage. The road ran
coastwise as far as the Julian haven, once thronged with the shipping
of the Roman world, now all but abandoned to a few fishermen; there it
turned inland, skirted the Lucrine water, and presently reached the
shore of Lake Avernus, where was the entrance to the long tunnel
piercing the hill between the lake and Cumae. On an ill-kept way, under
a low vault of rock dripping moisture, the carriage with difficulty
tossed and rumbled through the gloom. Basil impatiently trotted on,
and, as he issued into sunlight, there before him stood the walls of
the ancient city, round about that little hill by the sea which, in an
age remote, had been chosen for their abode by the first Hellenes
tempted to the land of Italy. High above rose the acropolis, a frowning