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26 ARIADNE.to the stoat and the newt, in that eternal ironyof mortal fame which seems always tolaugh aloudthrough Rome.It was a hiding-place for thieves in that time,butIcould have'no fear,I,old and poor, withouta coin of value on me.Iwalked through it,unthinking; thinking only of that long-abidingsorrow which had fallen uponme and others becauseIhadmeddled with the great goddess ofPræneste.Now at that time the place was perilous andquite unguarded;beggars slept there,and thievesalso if they chose, and so it was not strange thataway from the broad moonlight, just where themosaic pavement slopesdown under the fragmentof marble cornice in the central hall, there wererough work and some evil thing being done:there was an old manbeingheld and searched bytwo sturdy half-clad rogues.Iwas old too, but very strong, andIhad myknife; the thieves werebut two; they fled withoutmy touching them, thinking the guards were— behind me fled, and havingno wound worse thanthat from Pales' sharp teeth. The old manmut-