"_Civis Brittanicus sum_," I replied, and then I began to relate my
history, my misfortunes, and how I had prayed to be delivered from such
a dreadful death, begging her to show me the way out of these horrid
catacombs as soon as possible. "_Hac conditione_,"--On this condition--she said. "_Quænam est?_" What is it? I asked. She replied thus: "_Annulus quem in digito geris quem quidem circiter
quinque Sestertia valet et meus erat nom habui a viro quem delexi vende
ad levandum meum spiritum._"

Here was a surprise! The ring that I had purchased previously to
starting off for the catacombs belonged and had been worn by the spirit
before me when in the flesh! The man of whom I bought it spoke the truth
then--when he said that it had been found where the vestal virgins used
to be buried alive. What a curious coincidence! Now I was called upon to
sell it again to pay for masses for the poor disembodied spirit, and as
a condition of being set free myself from this dungeon. I was loth to
part with the ring I had paid so highly for, especially now that such an
interesting history was attached to it. Yet, what will not a man do to
save his life? "_Sic erit_," I replied. It shall be done. "_Jamnunc sequere me_," said she, beckoning to me with her pale
emaciated finger, which together with the hand and arm was so skinny
that it might have belonged to a skeleton. I followed accordingly, and
was led through many a long corridor, passing many a tomb of martyred
saint, though by a different route to that which I had taken. My guide
walked on before me in silence. That is to say, she did not converse
with me more, but ever to herself I heard the muttered words "_Peccavi! peccavi!_" beating her breast as she went. As I followed my guide, my ears suddenly caught the tones of distant
chanting. "_Quid sibi volunt cantus isti?_" What is the meaning of that singing? She answered merely by beckoning me on and hastening her steps. The
singing grew more and more distinct, and as we approached I noticed a
dim gleam of light ahead. Then, shortly turning a corner, I found myself
suddenly in a little chapel, like, in appearance, to the rest I had
seen, but lighted up with many candles, and with an altar on which stood
a rudely-carved crucifix, a chalice, etc. But how shall I describe my horror, consternation, and disgust on
beholding the strange congregation there assembled? It was easy to see
with half an eye that they were no beings of this world. They were
seven, I think, in number; indeed, the chapel had hardly room for more,
and to my dying day, never can I forget that horrible sight. One of
them, who stood at the altar, and who seemed to be the priest, had
evidently been decapitated. He stood upright, holding his head under his
arm. Another, who was naked with the exception of a cloth round his loins,
was bound to a stake and pierced full of arrows, _a la_ St. Sebastian. Another, who had been sawn asunder lengthways, was held together by
pieces of rope. One gentleman, who had been skinned alive for the holy
faith, was a most unsightly object, and reminded me of those anatomical
figures you see in doctors' shops. Whenever he moved, the working of his
anatomy was most painfully visible, and he wore his skin over his left
arm like an overcoat. There was another, who had evidently been burnt, for he was as black as
a cinder, and presented a most woe-begone aspect. A sixth had probably
been torn to pieces by some wild beast, for his flesh bore the print of
talons, and here and there hung in long strips, while a seventh had been
broken on the wheel, and seemed capable of bending his body into the
most impossible positions. My blood ran cold at such a spectacle, and turning to my guide, I asked
the meaning of this strange sight. She informed me that they were all
spirits of early Christians who had suffered martyrdom. "Then why," I asked, "are they not in Paradise instead of celebrating
mass here in these catacombs?" The reason she gave me was that they had all been massacred in their
sin, and their spirits not being yet pure enough to enter the realms of
eternal bliss, they were, like herself, doomed to go through their
religious duties as on earth, until masses should be said for their
deliverance. This, she told me, was her object in leading me here--that
I might see the misery of these wretched spirits, and pray for them. I
promised I would do so, and mass being finished, she introduced me to
the skinned gentleman, whom, she informed me, was her lover. He bowed,
grinned horribly, and offered me his anatomical hand, after which I had
a word with each of the spirits in turn, and then prepared to take my
departure. "_Ora pro nobis!_" they all cried at once. "_Sic erit_," I replied, and following my guide once more, she led me
again through many long and dreary passages, which seemed to me
interminable, she walking rapidly in front, whilst I dragged my jaded
limbs considerably in the rear, led on by no other light than the
luminous halo that enveloped her form, and which barely lit up the spot
on which she stood, all else being in pitchy darkness. At length I
thought I felt the ground ascending somewhat, and as I proceeded ever
slowly upwards, I fancied that I saw a ray of sunlight struggling
through a fissure in the rocky roof of the vault. I was not mistaken. The nearer I came, the larger grew the spot of light, and I now saw
clearly that there was a very considerable opening, amply sufficient to
admit of the body of a very large man passing through it, but quite
overgrown by brambles and rank vegetation, so as effectively to veil the
blue sky from my view. Even through this screen of rank herbage the
light dazzled my eyes intensely, and it was some minutes before I got
sufficiently accustomed to it. The ground now grew suddenly steeper,
till I at length found myself within a few steps of the fissure. My
guide now halted, and pointing to the opening with her hand, made way
for me to pass on in front. It would seem that the bright sunbeam as it fell upon her affected her
somewhat, for I noticed that her form grew less distinct, until the
vaporous essence that assumed her shape disintegrated piecemeal,
beginning at the head, gradually downwards, till she completely vanished
from my presence. Not, however, before I had time to thank her in her
own classical language. "_Pro tuis beneficiis gratias ago._"

To which she barely had time to reply "_Vale!_" when she became extinct,
and I was left once more alone. But now I had hope--I was free. Another step, and I should be launched
into the outer world again. Hungry, thirsty, fatigued as I was, I should
soon be able to satisfy my present wants and then--and then--with all my
young life before me, what might I not achieve? My first feeling was one
of intense gratitude towards my Creator, who had saved me from a
terrible and lingering death. It was like being born again.