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ARIADNE. 127seek to go away. He stood quite quietly by thegranite steps of the Pantheon, with the columnsbehind him that have withstood the fires and thesiegesof two thousand years.When my voice had died, choked in mythroat by the force of my own misery and hate,he looked at me, with his clear cold eyes dim."Iam sorry that you should hate me," hesaid, under his breath, " but you are right— asyou see things. And why do you call on anygod ? Rome has outlived them all."The patiencein him, and the serenity, quelledthe tempests of my fury and my loathing, as answering,passion would have fed them. Istoodstock-still, and stared on him, in the moonlight.him." Can one never hart you!" I muttered to" Are you brute, or devil, or what, thatyou feel nothing, and only stand and smile — likethat ? "" DidIsmile ?" said Hilarion." Nay— youhurt me when you hate me. It is natural thatyoushould,and justenough; only, when you callon God ! Has everHe listened ? "