feet, until one, perhaps
more malignant than the rest, plunged a dagger in the bosom of the
half-dead man. And Chios lifted up his feeble voice to heaven, crying:

'My God! my God! Saronia!'

The multitude laughed and jeered, and the sun shone down upon the fated
city.

'Take him up, men, and carry him within. Better he be out of sight.'

And they laid him on the marble floor at the feet of his mother, Myrtile
of Delos.

Then Acratus chuckled within himself:

'Thank the gods he is gone. Not a nice thing to have a lover prying
about, disturbing one's happiness. I saw him kiss her. He had the last;
the next shall be mine, not Nero's! I will take care the brute never
sets eyes on such loveliness. No, no; I will tame those dark eyes to
look into mine, and train those crimson, oleander lips to bear me rich
kisses of love. Now then, men, away! Saronia by this time has almost
reached the wharves. I will load the spoils to-day, and to-morrow they
leave. I will take my prize, the gloomy-eyed girl, with me to Pergamos,
where I have more temples to rifle, and then, overflowing with wealth,
I'll back to Rome.' And he moved away towards the Temple, muttering to
himself: 'What care I for Varro the Proconsul? He cannot stay me in my
career, armed as I am with mandate from Nero. He will vex and threaten
should he know I have that woman. But it must end there. Acratus is
supreme in this expedition, and cannot be interfered with, for Nero's
sake.'

* * * * *

That day was employed by thousands of men carrying away the wealth of
the Temple. Great bronze statues and marbled loveliness were dragged
through the streets and shipped--shipped with ivory and gorgeous
draperies; large sacks filled with treasure, gold, silver, and precious
stones, instruments of music of rarest workmanship and paintings
priceless, worth many times their weight in gold, became the property of
the spoilers, until the great Temple was left desolate like a ship
stripped of her cordage and sails, masts, and yards; the crew gone--a
lonely hull on an open shore.

The people could not stop this tide of locusts. So they had it all their
own way, save where some more noble than the rest were struck down for
defending their goddess.

Saronia was taken on board the ship to Lucius. When she was handed on to
the deck, he was about to thank the guard, who said:

'I deliver to you this woman, most noble Lucius. She belongs to Acratus,