egs. At sunset he took his share of the rations dealt out nightly to
the slaves, but although he was faint from emptiness the sight of the
food turned him sick. He went to the cell where he, with others, slept,
and dropped like a log, exhausted in mind and body. Here he lay until
Hito's whistle summoned the household slaves for emergency service. Not
to obey meant punishment, but in his present state Nicanor cared little
for that. He lay listening to the sound of hasty feet and voices as
slaves passed to and fro across the courtyard to the house, expecting
momently to be called to account for his delinquency. But no one came to
him, and by and by he slept.

Waking, he found the world dark and peopled with restless, moving
shadows. There was still much hurrying here and there, and from the
kitchens came strident sounds of nervous activity. Thither Nicanor
started, across the unlighted court, stopping on the way for a cup of
water at the well. As he put down the dipper and turned to go, he ran
into some one bound in the same direction, who staggered under the shock
with an exclamation, and dropped a dish, which crashed into fragments on
the ground. At the same instant Nicanor caught her by the shoulder and
steadied her; in the darkness he could not see her face.

"It is broken!" she exclaimed. "I must go quickly and get another."

"It was my fault," said Nicanor. "I will go."

"There is no need," the woman answered.

She started back, Nicanor keeping perversely beside her.

"What is happening?" he wished to know. "Is there a feast made in the
house to-night?" He could feel that she was looking at him in surprise.

"You do not know? Two strangers came to-day, with news of importance,
men say, for our lord. There be strange things told: they urge that our
lord will go back with them to Rome. The old man was indisposed when he
arrived; his servant tells that he is not over strong."

She hurried off, and Nicanor stood still, repeating stupidly her words.

"Our lord will go back with them to Rome. Then she will go with him. But
that is not possible. His home is here--why should he leave it?" At once
he was filled with feverish anxiety to find out what truth there might
be in the gossip.

He invented an errand which would take him within the house, to see if
by chance Lady Varia might be among the feasters. Since she was kept in
strictest seclusion by Eudemius, he was quite sure of not finding her,
but his mood of per