free citizen, to pass to
the port, which was granted.

He sent by boat a message to Lucius that he would speak with him, and a
reply came back requesting the Greek to come at once.

They met; their hearts went out to each other. Were they not old and
dear friends?

'What brings thee here, Chios? Art thou persecuted by this unseemly
tumult?'

'No, Lucius. Not so. I came to plead for a helpless woman.'

'Who is she?'

'Saronia. Once thy slave--thy----'

'I cannot help thee.'

The face of the sailor grew clouded, dark, and a fire rose up and
glittered through his eyes.

'No, no, no! I cannot help! This girl, like an evil star, has rested
over my home--that home, once filled with joy, now desolate, the loved
ones gone away. Would that I had never heard the name of this mysterious
being, Saronia! She has engendered strife, murdered the High Priest, and
cut adrift from her faith. Let her answer for her crimes as my child
did.'

'No, no!' exclaimed Chios. 'She did no murder. Oh, Lucius, my friend,
listen! This slave girl was ever good to thee--good as thou wert kind.
Hast thou not looked into her eyes, and, meeting thine, spoke they not
sincere love for thee? Is this not so? True, she left thine home, but of
this we will not now speak--she was born to rule, and could not serve as
a slave. She chose not her destiny--it was written for her; she did not
make it. I say again, she did not make it any more than she chose her
dignity of birth! Born from a long line of warriors on the one side and
a princess priestess on the other, how could she serve?'

'Thou art rambling, Chios! The excitement of yesterday makes inroads on
thy mind.'

'Nay, noble Lucius. Chios is not mad, but soon will be. Help, Lucius!
Help for Saronia!'

The Roman remained stolid, silent.

'Let me go on--let me speak,' said Chios. 'As I have said, of such noble
descent, her soul awakened, arose, towered above all others. She, the
slave, became the priestess of yonder mighty Temple, which Nero of Rome
has sent the vile Acratus to plunder. Fortunately, before this robbery
took place, Saronia had stepped from the old faith into the new. Had she
not, her blood would have crimsoned the great altar of Diana--she would
have laid down her life for her goddess! Now this precious life is in
the hands of Lucius. Wilt thou loose the silver thread and let her go?

'Were her father here--a warrior like unto thyself, armed, full of
power, with hosts of warsh