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120ARIADNE.behind himlike a dead mule on the high road torotforgotten.We all sin,but some of us walk on,notlookingback, and some of us do look back, and thus dogo again over the ill-trodden path, and so, perchance,meetangels on the way — to mendit.Hilarion never looked back: not because hewas altogether cruel,but because he had tendernesssufficient twined in with his cruelty to makehim reluctant to see pain, although quite recklessas to causing it. The masters of the worldwould slay ten thousand victims here in Rome,yet weep sometimes if abeloved slave died:andwhy? — because they were only Humanity letloose to allits instincts.Idreaded lest he should come to Rome, forIknew that even such comparative calm as she hadattained woulcl be destroyed again, if she couldbehold his face or hear his footstep onthe stones.Iwatched for him ceaselessly and in anxiety,but he never came, andIheard that he wasinParis and inother places that he loved, and thevile Sovrana woman was also absent,and the palesad peace thatreigned with us, as it reigns over