"Remain in the world! Thou hast rejected Christ! Be accursed in this age and in the age to come!"
"No, no! Cast me not out, father! I am on your side. Lord, here am I," exclaimed Juventinus following his master.
His mother made no arresting movement; not a muscle of her face stirred; but when the noise of his footsteps died away a hoarse sob heaved her breast and she fell into a swoon.
"Open—in the name of the most holy Emperor Constantius!"
It was the summons of soldiery sent by the prefect to hunt the Sabæan rebels, on the denunciation of the patrician mother of Juventinus.
With a powerful lever the soldiers attempted to prise open the door of the columbarium, shaking the edifice on its foundations. The little silver urns vibrated plaintively under the blows. Half of the door gave way.
Anatolius, Myrrha, and Arsinoë rushed into the inner gallery. The Christians hurried along the narrow passages like ants disturbed in their mound, making for all the secret outlets communicating with the quarry. But Arsinoë and Myrrha, unfamiliar with the exact situation of the galleries, lost their way in the labyrinth and at last reached the lowest floor of all at a depth of fifty cubits under ground. It became difficult to breathe; muddy water lay under foot. The flame of the lamps became dim and almost blew out. Putrid miasmas filled the air. Myrrha felt her head swim and gradually lost consciousness.
Anatolius took her in his arms. At every step they feared to encounter the legionaries; all the outlets might be blocked and sealed up; they were running the risk of being buried alive.
At last they heard the voice of Juventinus calling—