hinges the mind of Varro? Remember, do not forget, thou admirest
a woman who was once my slave.'

'True; I understand it all, and wonder at thy speech.'

'Thou needst not. Men are all alike; they worship every beautiful
woman--Paris a Helen, Antony a Cleopatra, and Varro a Saronia, whilst I,
for my own part, see in her only a deep, designing woman, part tiger,
part serpent. The tiger hath a lovely sleek body with a furious heart;
the serpent for its creeping artfulness is a byword for deceit. Do not
get within her fatal circle, or she will sting thee to the very core,
and then devour thee. I hate her! She has robbed me of my peace, and
now, with deep conceit and hellish pride, she deigns not to turn her
head this way. Oh that I had the power to curse her!'

'Fear not, Lady Nika; she will not capture. Thine eyes of blue are
sufficient magnets to hold me. Besides, she is bound to chastity, and is
as cold as moonlight on a snow-clad mountain.'

'Yes; and thou mayest add, "In her bosom is a hidden fire like an
ice-capped volcano with a burning heart." Beware, beware of Saronia! she
has two natures, extreme in both. Is Chios here?'

'Yes, Nika; he has just entered.'

'Canst thou point him out amongst the thousands?'

'He sits by the arena-gate.'

'I wonder why he is there. Ah, now I see him! He recognises! I will
raise this crimson oleander to my lips, and greet him with a smile. I
have a motive; do not be jealous, Varro. Wait!'

Just then the eyes of Saronia turned, and she saw the girl salute Chios,
and a darkness like storm-clouds on the top of the mountain spread over
the face of the priestess.

Nika looked defiantly--for a moment only; the withering glance of the
Temple virgin blanched the Roman's cheeks with fear.

* * * * *

A great shout went up from the multitude; a man of sober mien was
brought into the arena armed with a dagger only. Proclamation said this
troublesome Christian would fight for his life and faith with one of the
fiercest lions of Nubia. He was aged, and took little notice of the
proceedings. The people said it was a murder, and not a fight. Even Nika
pitied and Varro wondered.

Presently a messenger came to the Proconsul, and handed to him a
message. He read it hastily, and answered 'Yes.'

'What news?' said Venusta.

'A request only from some young athlete offering to do battle for yon
poor aged man. It gladdens me; we shall see better fighting. The