Whether this were a sin or not, was all the same to him; the most harmless play was called a sin, and every thought of the world for which he longed, and he was fully resolved to take the sin upon himself, if only he might attain his end.  Sin after all was nothing but a phantom terror with which they frighten children, and the worthy Petrus had assured him that he might be a man capable of great deeds.  With a feeling that he was venturing on an unheard of act he went towards Sirona’s window, and she at once recognized him as he stood in the moonlight.

“Hermas!” he heard her say softly.  He was seized with such violent terror that he stood as if spellbound, the goat slipped from his shoulders, and he felt as if his heart had ceased to beat.  And again the sweet woman’s voice called, “Hermas, is it you?  What brings you to us at such a late hour?”

He stammered an incoherent answer, and “I do not understand; come a little nearer.”  Involuntarily he stepped forward into the shadow of the house and close up to her window.  She wore a white robe with wide, open sleeves, and her arms shone in the dim light as white as her garment.  The greyhound barked again; she quieted it, and then asked Hermas how his father was, and whether he needed some more wine.  He replied that she was very kind, angelically kind, but that the sick man was recovering fast, and that she had already given him far too much.  Neither of them said anything that might not have been heard by everybody, and yet they whispered as if they were speaking of some forbidden thing.

“Wait a moment,” said Sirona, and she disappeared within the room, she soon reappeared, and said solid and sadly, “I would ask you to come into the house but Phoebicius has locked the door.  I am quite alone, hold the flask so that I may fill it through the open window.”

With these words she leaned over with the large jar—­she was strong, but the wine-jar seemed to her heavier than on other occasions, and she said with a sigh, “The amphora is too heavy for me.”

He reached up to help her; again his fingers met hers, and again he felt the ecstatic thrill which had haunted his memory day and night ever since he first had felt it.  At this instant there was a sudden noise in the house opposite; the slaves were coming out from supper.  Sirona knew what was happening; she started and cried out, pointing to the senator’s door, “For all the gods’ sake! they are coming out, and if they see you here I am lost!”

Hermas looked hastily round the court, and listened to the increasing noise in the other house, then, perceiving that there was no possible escape from the senator’s people, who were close upon him, he cried out to Sirona in a commanding tone, “Stand back,” and flung himself up through the window into the Gaul’s apartment.  At the same moment the door opposite opened, and the slaves streamed out into the yard.