O God, God!--she may die!--her body may be cast away like the rest, and I may live to see it!' He rose suddenly from the couch; his reason seemed for a moment to be shaken as he tottered to the window, crying, 'Food! food!--I will give my house and all it contains for a morsel of food.

I have nothing to support my own child--she will starve before me by tomorrow if I have no food! I am a citizen of Rome--I demand help from the Senate! Food! food!' In tones declining lower and lower he continued to cry thus from the window, but no voice answered him either in sympathy or derision.

Of all the people--now increased in numbers--collected in the street before Vetranio's palace, no one turned even to look on him.

For days and days past, such fruitless appeals as his had been heard, and heard unconcernedly, at every hour and in every street of Rome--now ringing through the heavy air in the shrieks of delirium; now faintly audible in the last faltering murmurs of exhaustion and despair.
Thus vainly entreating help and pity from a populace who had ceased to give the one or to feel the other, Numerian might long have remained; but now his daughter approached his side, and drawing him gently towards his couch, said in tender and solemn accents: 'Remember, father, that God sent the ravens to feed Elijah, and replenished the widow's cruse! He will not desert us, for He has restored us to each other, and has sent me hither not to perish in the famine, but to watch over you!' 'God has deserted the city and all that it contains!' he answered distractedly.

'The angel of destruction has gone forth into our streets, and death walks in his shadow! On this day, when hope and happiness seemed opening before us both; our little household has been doomed! The young and the old, the weary and the watchful, they strew the streets alike--the famine has mastered them all--the famine will master us--there is no help, no escape! I, who would have died patiently for my daughter's safety, must now die despairing, leaving her friendless in the wide, dreary, perilous world; in the dismal city of anguish, of horror, of death--where the enemy threatens without, and hunger and pestilence waste within! O Antonina! you have returned to me but for a little time; the day of our second separation draws near!' For a few moments his head drooped, and his sobs choked his utterance; then he once more rose painfully to his feet.