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ARIADNE. 27tered many curses and few blessings; he hadbeen robbed of a few copper coins; he wasverypoor, he said;lookinginhis haggard faceIsawthat he was the old man, Ben Sulim, of theGhetto.Igavehim back his curses, and set him withhis face to the moonlight, and bade him be gone.Thenhe would have thanked me,butIstrodeawayfrom him out over the vineyards where thereused to be aU those open marble courts for theRomans' sports and daily gossiping;a hare ranbefore me into a sheaf of corn,a broad-wingedowl flew slowty Hke a puff of smoke borne on aslow wind;they were all that held the place ofthe Roman people now.Iwalked homeward by many amile across thepale campagna, sweet with flowering thyme, andrife with fever, and backward hito Rome byway of the Lateran church and palace:it wasfull dawn whenIreached my stall and slept. Ithought no more of the accident of the night:savenow and thenIwishedIhad not meddledwith the thieves.It was far into the vintage month, and the first