“Here, or at Verulam in the caves, or in the forests of Britain, the Lord is the light. Oh! my noble Casca, I pray you bathe your soul in His light, and you will have peace and joy in His presence!”
Casca folded his arms and looked out upon the shining landscape, wondering much that the slave-girl should have become a woman on whose face was written a high and noble resolve, the outcome of the reality and fervour of her faith.
“Yes!” she continued, “I am now living in the Jews’ quarter, on the slope of the hill. I hear from them the words of their prophets and sibyls, and I know that these foretold the coming of the Saviour of the world. They did not know Him, and he was nailed to the cross, like a malefactor, by the Roman Governor’s order, in the province of Judæa. The Jews clamoured for His life, as the Romans clamour for the lives of the Christians. And He laid it down, to take it again, dying for Roman and Greek, Jew and Christian, Briton and Druid, alike.”
“I would I could believe,” Casca sighed, “for there is a hunger of the soul nothing can satisfy. But, Anna, this may be a fable or a phantom, this Christ of whom you speak.”
“Nay, dear master, He is no fable and no phantom. He lives in us and we live in Him. But——”
She broke off suddenly, for two figures clothed in the purest white garments were seen ascending the hill with light, agile steps. The taller of the two bore a pitcher on her head, with the grace with which only the women of Italy know how to carry a burden. Her young companion had no burden. She had gathered a large bunch of the pale violet anemone which carpets the turf in every Roman garden in spring, and had fastened it under the fillet with which her short shining curls were bound.
“Two vestals!” Casca said, springing to his feet. “The younger one is—yes, surely it is—Hyacintha!”
In another moment the brother and sister stood face to face. Hyacintha gave him a rapturous greeting.
“Chloe!” she exclaimed, “this is my brother Casca.”
Chloe, who had set down her pitcher, smiled pleasantly. And then, with a wild cry of joy, Hyacintha discovered that Anna, her Ebba of other times, was with her brother.