“What a wretched existence indeed, Cassianus, you must be leading! Have you made no impression on them?”
“Little or none, dear Pancratius. And how can I, while I am obliged to make them read those dangerous books, full of fables, which Roman and Greek literature contain? No, I have done little by my words; perhaps my death may do more for them.”
Pancratius found all expostulation vain, and would have almost joined him in his resolution to die; only he had promised Sebastian not to expose his life during the journey. He, however, determined to remain about the town till he saw the end.
Corvinus arrived with his men at the villa of Chromatius; and early in the morning rushed suddenly through the gates, and to the house. He found it empty. He searched it through and through, but discovered neither a person, a book, nor a symbol of Christianity. He was confounded and annoyed. He looked about; and having found a servant working in the garden, asked him where his master was.
“Master no tell slave where he go,” was the reply, in a latinity corresponding to such a rude phraseology.
“You are trifling with me. Which way did he and his companions go?”
“Through yonder gate.”
“And then?”
“Look that way,” answered the servant. “You see gate? very well; you see no more. Me work here, me see gate, me see no more.”
“When did they go? at least you can answer that.”