ed in his confinement. In the plentitude of the glory of
his newly acquired freedom, he had come abroad in an elegant new toga;
but he had laid it on a chair when he entered the room.

There was an awkward pause outside; then Pratinas burst out, "You
worthless Ethiopian, you, where did this toga come from? It hasn't
wings or feet! How came it here? Who's been here? Speak, speak, you
fool, or I will teach you a lesson!"

Agias gathered himself for a spring; for he expected to hear Sesostris
whimper out a confession, and see Pratinas's wickedly handsome face
peering into the chest. "He shan't cut my throat without a struggle!"
was his vow.

But, to his surprise, Sesostris answered with a tone of unlooked-for
firmness, "Master, I cannot tell you where the toga came from."

The tone of Pratinas, in reply, indicated his passion. "Sheep! Dog!
Have I had you all these years that you should need a thrashing for
impertinence! What rascal has been here to ogle at this wretched
girl?" He might have thundered his commands to Artemisia, who was
sobbing in evident distress; but his anger was concentrated on
Sesostris. "Will you not speak?"

"Master," came the same firm reply, "I will not tell you, though you
take my life for refusing."

What followed was, as Agias heard it, a volley of curses, blows,
groans, and scuffling; then a heavy fall; an extremely fierce
execration from Pratinas, and a loud shrill scream from Artemisia, "O
Sesostris; dear Sesostris! He doesn't speak! He doesn't move! You've
killed him!"

"And I will kill you too if you won't tell the truth!" thundered
Pratinas, in an ungovernable passion. Agias heard a blow as of a
clinched fist, and a low moan. It was enough. One spring, and the
ponderous cover flew back. The toga, the innocent cause of the
catastrophe, lay on the chair close at hand. Agias grasped the whole
picture in a twinkling: Sesostris lying beside a heavy wooden bench,
with blood flowing from a great wound in his head which had struck in
falling on a sharp corner; Artemisia crying in unspeakable dread on a
divan; Pratinas, his face black as night, with uplifted hand prepared
to strike a second time. Agias saw; and while he saw acted. Down over
Pratinas's head dashed the broad linen folds of the toga, and two
muscular arms drew it tight around the neck. Then began the struggle.
Pratinas was of powerful physique, and resisted like a madman. The
carpet was torn to shreds, the chairs shivered. But