Part 3 (1/2)

Buildings of all sizes, walls, tombs, and temples were all around, but he saw no place that seemed at all connected with the Catacombs. He was quite at a loss what to do.

He went down into the street and walked slowly along, carefully scrutinizing every person whom he met, and examining closely every building. Yet no result was obtained from this beyond the discovery that the outward appearance gave no sign of any connection with subterranean abodes. The day pa.s.sed on, and it grew late; but Marcellus remembered that there were many entrances to the Catacombs, and still he continued his search, hoping before the close of the day to find some clue.

At length his search was rewarded. He had walked backward and forward and in every direction, often retracing his steps and returning many times to the place of starting. Twilight was coming on, and the sun was near the edge of the horizon, when his quick eye caught sight of a man who was walking in an opposite direction, followed by a boy. The man was dressed in coa.r.s.e apparel, stained and damp with sand and earth. His complexion was blanched and pallid, like that of one who has long been imprisoned, and his whole appearance at once arrested the glance of the young soldier.

He stepped up to him, and laying his hand upon his shoulder said,

”You are a fossor. Come with me.”

The man looked up. He saw a stern face. The sight of the officer's dress terrified him. In an instant he darted away, and before Marcellus could turn to follow he had rushed into a side lane and was out of sight.

But Marcellus secured the boy.

”Come with me,” said he.

The poor lad looked up with such an agony of fear that Marcellus was moved.

”Have mercy, for my mother's sake; she will die if I am taken.”

The boy fell at his feet murmuring this in broken tones.

”I will not hurt you. Come,” and he led him away toward an open s.p.a.ce out of the way of the pa.s.sers-by.

”Now,” said he, stopping and confronting the boy, ”tell me the truth.

Who are you?”

”My name is Pollio,” said the boy.

”Where do you live?”

”In Rome.”

”What are you doing here?”

”I was out on an errand.”

”Who was that man?”

”A fossor.”

”What were you doing with him?”

”He was carrying a bundle for me.”

”What was in the bundle?”

”Provisions.”

”To whom were you carrying it?”