It was evident that the vault only reached its outlet after it had wound
backwards, underneath the building, in some strange complication of
passages or labyrinth of artificial caverns, which might have been built
long since as dungeons for the living, or as sepulchres for the dead.
'The place of the sacrifice--aha! the place of the sacrifice!' cried the
Pagan exultingly, as he drew Numerian to the entrance of the cavity, and
solemnly pointed into the darkness beneath.
The father gazed steadily into the chasm, never turning now to look on
Antonina, never moving to renew the struggle for freedom. Earthly loves
and earthly hopes began to fade away from his heart--he was praying.
The solemn words of Christian supplication fell in low, murmuring sounds
from his lips, in the place of idolatry and bloodshed, and mingled with
the incoherent ejaculations of the madman who kept him captive, and who
now bent his glaring eyes on the darkness of the vault, half forgetful,
in the gloomy fascination which it exercised even over him, of the
prisoners whom he held at its mouth.
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