But before these foiled hounds with drooping heads had reached the entrance, they recoiled before the sight of a singular apparition. At first they thought they had caught a glimpse of daylight; but they soon perceived it was the glimmering of a lamp. This was held steadily by an upright, immovable figure, which thus received its light upon itself. It was clothed in a dark dress, so as to resemble one of those bronze statues, which have the head and extremities of white marble, and startle one, when first seen; so like are they to living forms.
“Who can it be? What is it?” the men whispered to one another.
“The genius loci,”[152] observed another.
“A spirit,” suggested a third.
Still, as they approached stealthily towards it, it did not appear conscious of their presence: “there was no speculation in its eyes;” it remained unmoved and unscared. At length, two got sufficiently near to seize the figure by its arms.
“Who are you?” asked Corvinus, in a rage.
“A Christian,” answered Cæcilia, with her usual cheerful gentleness.
The Cure of the Man born Blind, from a picture in the Catacombs.