"It was so to him, but not more so than to many others who lie buried in the gloomy place where we are forced to dwell. To their numbers I wish to add the remains of Marcellus. Would you be willing to part with them?"
"I had hoped, venerable Honorius, that since my dear friend had left me I might have at least the mournful pleasure of giving to his remains the last pious honors, and of weeping at his tomb."
"But, noble Lucullus, would not your friend have preferred a burial with the sacred ceremonies of his new faith, and a resting place among those martyrs with whose names his is now associated forever?"
Lucullus was silent, and thought for some time. At length he spoke:
"Of his wishes there can be no doubt. I will respect them, and deny myself the honor of performing the funereal rites. Take them, Honorius. But I will, nevertheless, assist at your services. Will you permit the soldier, whom you only know as your enemy, to enter your retreat and to witness your acts?"
"You shall be welcome, noble Lucullus, even as Marcellus was welcome before you, and perhaps you will receive among us the same blessing that was granted to him."
"Do not hope for anything like that," said Lucullus. "I am far different from Marcellus in taste and feeling. I might learn to feel kindly toward you, or even to admire you, but never to join you."
"Come with us, then, whatever you are, and assist at the funeral services of your friend. A messenger will come for you to-morrow."
Lucullus signified his assent, and after handing over the precious urn to the care of Honorius, he went sadly to his own home.
On the following day he went with the messenger to the Catacombs. There he saw the Christian community, and beheld the place of their abode. But from the previous accounts of his friend he had gained a clear idea of their life, their sufferings, and their afflictions.