Before I had time to make any answer, she had taken out of a casket that stood beside us, a scroll of parchment, bound with a silk ribbon, which she immediately put into my hands, and—“To-morrow,” said she, “Valerius, our fate, they tell us, must at length be determined;—if we share the fate of Tisias, the last gift of Tisias shall be yours. If, however, any mercy be extended to us, I cannot part with that memorial of a dying martyr. I must keep to myself the old man’s favourite volume, for it was for me he had designed it. But I have made a copy of the same book for yourself. I have written it since I came hither, Valerius, and you must not despise it because the Mammertine has not furnished the finest of materials. Take this, Valerius, and take with it my thanks—my prayers. I know you will not forget my message to my dear sister.—Sextus and she—may many happy days be theirs—and yours.”
I kissed the sad gift, and placed it in my bosom.
“Valerius,” she said, “dry up your tears. You weep for me because I am a Christian; forget not that the Roman blood flows in my veins, and think not that its current is chilled, because I have forsworn the worship of idol and demon, and am in peril for the service of The Living God.”
“Athanasia!” said I,—“I weep for you, but not for you alone. I ask nothing—I hope nothing—but I could not bear to part with you thus, and not to tell you that when I part from you, I bid farewell to all things. Pardon me—once more pardon me.”
A single flush of crimson passed over her face, and I saw her lips move, but the syllables died ere they were uttered. She continued for a moment gazing on me, pale, and trembling; and then at last she fell upon my neck and wept—not audibly—but I felt her tears.
Athanasia was still folded to my bosom in that strange agony of sorrow and of confidence, when Silo, the jailer, entered the apartment, abrupt and breathless.
“Oh, sir!” said he, “your sufferings are mine—but it is necessary that you should leave us, and on the instant, for the Prefect is already at the gate, and unquestionably he will examine every part of the prison; and should you be recognized as the person who was taken in the Mausoleum, you see plainly to what suspicions it might give rise. Come then, sir, and let me secure your escape—we shall take care to warn you of whatever occurs, and we shall send for you, if there be opportunity.”
Athanasia recovered herself almost instantly, when she heard what Silo said.
“We shall meet again,” said I.
“Once more,” she replied—“at least once more, Valerius.”