old man
can offer no resistance.'

'Who offers?' said Nika.

'I know not. Some courageous fellow, well paid by the Christians, I
presume.'

They had not long to wait. The fighter stepped forward, cast a hasty
glance around, bowed towards where Saronia sat, then to the audience.

For a moment the people were speechless. Then a cry arose: 'Chios! noble
Chios!'

The Proconsul half arose in his seat by way of protestation, as if he
would forbid. 'Twas too late. At that instant a lion was loosed, and
rushed into the arena.

Chios stood unmoved. The beast hesitated for a moment, the light
striking his flaming eyes. Then, with a roar which reached afar, he
crouched, he sprang, but missed his prey. Uttering discontent, he lashed
his sides with fury, and sprang again; but the Greek was too quick for
him, and a loud shout of applause went up from the mighty concourse.
'Well done, Chios!' resounded from every side.

One person only was unmoved--one only of that vast assembly was calm. On
the face of Saronia was the calmness of death. Her eyes followed the
infuriated brute, and when she caught its glance it drooped its head and
pawed the earth.

The third attack, and man and beast rolled over in mortal combat. For a
while nothing could be ascertained for the dust which arose. Suddenly
the lion fell, with a rivulet of blood issuing from his heart.

Chios arose from the ground, covered with the life-stream of his foe.

Then great shouts of acclaim rent the skies.

'Well fought!' cried they. 'Long live Chios of Ephesus!' resounded
through the mighty building.

'Chios deserves a crown of gold,' said the Proconsul.

A perfect reaction set in, occasioned by the heroic act of the Greek.
Those who were loud in protestation turned like a summer wind from south
to west. All antipathy had fled. The manliness portrayed, risking his
life for another, brought full reward. Even the great Saronia approved
the act, and admired the man.

Chios took little heed of it all. He quietly slipped aside, and went to
his beloved studio. There he always felt happy.

And now he rested, musing upon the past.

'I have not succeeded in my mission,' said he, 'but it shall be
accomplished.'

Outside his gate was a poor-looking aged man, inquiring the way to the
studio of the great artist.

'Yonder through the myrtle-trees it stands,' replied a passer-by; 'but
do not intrude. Let him rest. He is weary from doing battle in the arena
on behal