“I will come,” Casca said.
“Go whither, dear brother?” asked Hyacintha; “nay, run into no danger.”
Casca smiled.
“I am never bold or daring, little sister; has not that weakness of mine been ever foremost? Did not good Claudius try to harden me to danger? Did not my father look on me with scorn, as unworthy of his noble ancestors? I will run into no danger.”
Chloe’s footsteps were heard approaching, on her return from the fountain, where she had filled the pitcher with pure crystal water.
This water was used to sprinkle the altar of Vesta, and only those who were fully qualified by their term of probation were ever allowed to perform this office.
“Now, Hyacintha,” Chloe said, “the day wears on apace, and we must return to the temple.”
Hyacintha embraced her brother, and then turned to follow Chloe. The path bore a little to the left before it descended to the gate of the garden, and there Hyacintha paused for a moment, and with her hand waved her farewell to the two who stood below her. The low level rays of the lately-risen sun glanced through the vines and olive trees amongst which she stood. Her white robe glistened and glowed in the sunshine, and her face—that beautiful face—so childlike, and yet so womanly, made Anna exclaim—
“She is like the Hyacintha of my dream in the dungeon! Oh, that the journey was indeed over, and that she was standing to welcome me at the golden gate! but it will come at last—at last.”
Hyacintha had disappeared at the garden gate. A lictor stood to escort the two vestals along the public thoroughfare to the door of the vestals’ house. The vestals were never allowed to appear in public without a guard; for from their high office they formed a part of the sacred magistracy and state of the city of Rome.