"
"All right, Burger! I think it is very kind of you to let me into this
secret, and I promise you that I will write nothing about it until you
have published your report. Good-bye for the present! You will find me
at the Gate at twelve."
The cold, clear air was filled with the musical chimes from that city of
clocks as Burger, wrapped in an Italian overcoat, with a lantern hanging
from his hand, walked up to the rendezvous. Kennedy stepped out of the
shadow to meet him.
"You are ardent in work as well as in love!" said the German, laughing.
"Yes; I have been waiting here for nearly half an hour."
"I hope you left no clue as to where we were going."
"Not such a fool! By Jove, I am chilled to the bone! Come on, Burger,
let us warm ourselves by a spurt of hard walking."
Their footsteps sounded loud and crisp upon the rough stone paving of
the disappointing road which is all that is left of the most famous
highway of the world. A peasant or two going home from the wine-shop,
and a few carts of country produce coming up to Rome, were the only
things which they met. They swung along, with the huge tombs looming up
through the darkness upon each side of them, until they had come as far
as the Catacombs of St. Calixtus, and saw against a rising moon the
great circular bastion of Cecilia Metella in front of them.
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