The old man looked at him a certain time with open lips, as if not understanding what he said. But Vestinius repeated,
“Are the Furies pursuing thee?”
“No,” answered Chilo; “but night is before me.”
“How, night? May the gods have mercy on thee. How night?”
“Night, ghastly and impenetrable, in which something is moving, something coming toward me; but I know not what it is, and I am terrified.”
“I have always been sure that there are witches. Dost thou not dream of something?”
“No, for I do not sleep. I did not think that they would be punished thus.”
“Art thou sorry for them?”
“Why do ye shed so much blood? Hast heard what that one said from the cross? Woe to us!”
“I heard,” answered Vestinius, in a low voice. “But they are incendiaries.”