"Come, good men, we have work to do." Awhile they rode in silence, their eyes on the light of the lantern.
Slowly they came near, and soon saw its glow falling upon rocks and moving shadows beneath it.
Then said David, turning to Vergilius: "The battle--suppose it goes ill with you ?" "Ill!" said the Roman, with rising ire.

"Then Jehovah is no better than Mars." They could now see people standing in the light of a lantern which hung above the entrance of a cave.

Its opening was large enough to admit a horse and rider.
"Soldiers of Caesar!"-- the whisper went from mouth to mouth there in the light of the lantern.
The horsemen halted.
"I shall soon be done with this traitor to friend and king," thought the tribune, dismounting and approaching the cave.
That group of people under the light, seeing symbols of Roman authority and hearing its familiar voice, fell aside with fear in their faces.

A woman standing in the entrance of the cave addressed Vergilius, her voice trembling with emotion.
"Good sir," said she, "if you mean harm to those within I pray you go hence." "I know not who is within," he answered, as both he and David passed her.

Fearing treachery, they drew their swords.