to mock; but we looked so bold and sang so loud that they durst not. And Verronax is come down, papa, with Celer; and Celer wanted to sing too, but they would not let him, and he was so good that he was silent the moment his master showed him the leash.”

“Then is Celer a hound?” asked the Bishop, amused.

“A hound of the old stock that used to fight battles for Bituitus,” returned the child. “Oh, papa, I am so hungry.”

He really did say ‘papa,’ the fond domestic name which passed from the patriarch of the household to the Father of the Roman Church.

“Thy mother is watching for thee. Run to her, and she will give thee a cake—aye, and a bath before thy dinner. So Verronax is come. I am glad thou wilt see him, my father. The youth has grown up with my own children, and is as dear to me as my own son. Ah, here comes my Columba!”

For the maidens were by this time returning, and Columba, robed in white, with a black veil, worn mantilla fashion over her raven hair, so as to shade her soft, liquid, dark eyes, came up the steps, and with a graceful obeisance to her father and the Bishop, took the seat to which the former drew her beside them.

“Has all gone well, my little dove?” asked her father.

“Perfectly well so far, my father,” she replied; but there was anxiety in her eyes until the gate again opened and admitted the male contingent of the procession. No sooner had she seen them safely advancing up the box avenue than she murmured something about preparing for the meal, and, desiring a dismissal from her father, disappeared into the women’s apartments, while the old man smiled at her pretty maidenly modesty.

Of the three men who were advancing, one, Marcus Æmilius, about seven or eight and twenty years of age, was much what the Senator must have been at his age—sturdy, resolute, with keen eyes, and crisp, curled, short black hair. His younger brother, Lucius, was taller, slighter, more delicately made, with the same pensive Italian eyes as his sister, and a gentle, thoughtful countenance. The tonsure had not yet touched his soft, dark brown locks; but it was the last time he would march among the laity, for, both by his own desire and that of his dead mother, he was destined to the priesthood. Beside these two brothers came a much taller figure. The Arvernii seem to have been Gael rather than Cymri, and the mountain chief, Titus Julius Verronax, as the Romans rendered his name of Fearnagh, was of the purest descent. He had 

 Prev. P 7/137 next