‘Thou usest the language of a Christian,’ said the Presbyter, ‘but thy chain would prove thee a fugitive or a criminal.’
‘I have erred,’ said Onesimus; ‘but I am not a criminal.’
The Presbyter fixed on him a long and troubled look.
‘Thou hast adjured me,’ he said, ‘in the name of Christ: I dare not refuse. But neither must I, for thy sake, imperil the brethren. Hide thyself again. I will send my son, Stephanus, to file thy chain, and then thou must depart. If thou hast erred, may Christ forgive thee!’
It was not many minutes before the young man came, and, without a word, filed the thinnest part of the manacle till Onesimus was free.
‘Peace be with thee, brother!’ said Stephanus. ‘Men begin to stir. Thou wilt be in danger. We dare not shelter thee. It were best to hide here till nightfall. Food shall be brought thee.’
Onesimus saw that the advice was good. Search might be made for him; but Antium was a large place, and the sand-pit might escape observation. It was so; bread and water were left near his hiding-place, and at night he made his way to Gaieta, which was twenty miles away from Antium.
CHAPTER XXXII
WANDERINGS OF AN OUTCAST
‘Matrisque Deum chorus intrat, et ingens
Semivir, obscæno facies reverenda minori,