We returned to the Cœlian.
When I parted from Probus, at the close of this interview, it was in the belief that I should never see him more. But I was once again in his dungeon, and then heard from him what I will now repeat to you. It was thus.
Not long after we had withdrawn from his cell on our first visit, Probus, as was his wont when alone, sat reading by that dim and imperfect light which the jailer had provided him. He presently closed the volume and laid it away. While he then sat musing, and thinking of the morrow, and of the fate which then probably awaited him, the door of his cell slowly opened. He looked, expecting to see his usual visitant the jailer, but it was a form very different from his. The door closed, and the figure advanced to where Probus sat. The gown in which it was enveloped was then let fall, and the Prefect stood before the Christian.
'Varus!' said Probus. 'Do I see aright?'
'It is Varus,' replied the Prefect. 'And your friend.'
'I would, now at least, be at friendship with all the world,' responded Probus.
'Yet,' said Varus, 'your friends must be few, that you should be left in this place of horror, alone, to meet your fate.'
'I have no friend powerful enough, on earth at least, to cope with the omnipotence of Aurelian,' replied Probus.
'Thy friends, Christian, are more, and more potent than thou dreamest of. As I said to thee before, even Aurelian esteems thee.'