“It has been a long fight, and a bitter struggle, but it is over now, and the Lord Jesus has shown me Himself, the Crucified One on the Cross, and that by the Cross alone we may win our Crown. I have committed to my memory, which has ever been a good one, large portions of the Gospels in the soft Greek tongue, and the words have been as honey and the honey-comb. The good father Eusebius baptised me yestere’en in the name of the Lord, and nothing now remains but to commit my soul to Him who died for me, and for thee, also, sweet Hermione, and for the whole world.”
She was silent for a time, and Hermione thought she slept, but presently she said:—
“My brother Casca, Claudius, good, faithful Ebba, I shall see them soon! Hermione, in a few short years this temple will be deserted, the company of Vestals will be broken up, for the Sun has risen far above the horizon, and He has called the nations into His marvellous light.”
Then she wandered on, no longer of the present, but of the past. The cruel death of Alban, which was prominent in her childish dreams, the departure of Ebba, the vow Claudius had sworn. “Good Claudius,” she repeated, “good Claudius; and he kept that vow. Ah! yes; good, brave Claudius!”
Hermione and her devoted servants watched over her that night, and her strength rapidly declined.
There was almost universal sorrow shown when it became known that the Vestal Maxima was dying.
All the great Roman families sent representatives to the Vestals’ House to inquire as to her condition.
The young children, the lately-received disciples, were in tears; the newly-consecrated Vestals went sorrowfully about their work, striving to perform their duties for the sake of her, who would never again give them the benefit of her counsel and advice.
The whole community passed in one by one to bid her a farewell.
She smiled on them as they knelt by her side, and murmured words which were hardly intelligible.