"Oh, alas! alas!" Sirona cried, striking her hand against her forehead.
"I shall never succeed in finding my way back, for I noticed no way-
marks! But stay--Before us a penitent from Memphis, who has been dead a
few weeks--"

"Old Serapion?" asked Petrus.

"That was his name," exclaimed Sirona. "Do you know his cave?"

"How should I?" replied Petrus. "But perhaps Agapitus--"

"The spring where I got the water to cool Polykarp's wound, Paulus calls
the partridge's-spring."

"The partridge's-spring," repeated the senator, "I know that." With a
deep sigh he took his staff, and called to Dorothea, "Do you prepare the
draught, the bandages, torches, and your good litter, while I knock at
our neighbor Magadon's door, and ask him to lend us slaves."

"Let me go with you," said Marthana. "No, no; you stay here with your
mother."

"And do you think that I can wait here?" asked Dorothea. "I am going
with you."

"There is much here for you to do," replied Petrus evasively, "and we
must climb the hill quickly."

"I should certainly delay you," sighed the mother, "but take the girl
with you; she has a light and lucky hand."