es. She came near, and, caressingly, put an arm about
his neck. He could hear a nightingale singing somewhere in the great
palace. It seemed to fling open the gates of memory. He thought of
his love--sacred now above all things. His fear of it was like as the
fear of the gods had been to his fathers. For a moment honor, wisdom,
and love trembled in the balance. Suddenly he stood erect and put his
hand upon the shoulder of Salome and gently pushed her aside.

He turned away, his left arm covering his eyes and his right moving in
a gesture of protest. He staggered as one drunk with wine. Slowly he
crossed the chamber, struggling to defend his soul.

"I dare not look upon your face again," said he, sternly.

She ran before and tried to stop him. "Hear me, son of Varro," said
she. "It is my will to help you."

"I will not look upon your face again," he repeated.

She struck at his hand fiercely, her foot stamping on the floor. Now
was she of the catlike tribe of Herod.

"Go, stupid fool!" The words came hissing from her lips. "I hate
you!" She ran away, with impassioned laughter. He passed the door.

"To the evil honor is ever stupid," he said, to himself, as he left the
palace. By-and-by he added, thoughtfully, "'Tis a mighty friend--this
great love in me."

And said David, who was waiting when he returned: "They kept you long,
my master."

"Yes; I have been fighting!"

"Fighting?"

"For the prize of heaven in the amphitheatre of hell. My love was my
shield, the power of God my weapon."

"Friend, what mean you?"

"That an evil woman has tried to put the leash of fate upon me."

"How fared the battle?"

"It was my victory," said Vergilius; "and I do feel a mighty peace in
me."

CHAPTER 17

Vergilius had thought wisely of his temptation. Fate rules them only
who are too weak to rule themselves, and the great leash of fate is the
power of evil women. It was now to hasten the current of history in
the old capital.

Salome sat with Manius in the great picture-room of her mother's
palace. Guests had left the banquet-hall and gone to their homes. It
was near the middle hour of the night and Herod's daughter was alone
with the young assessor of Augustus.

"You shall choose," said she, "between the daughter and the son of
Herod. My brother hates me, and I fear him. When he is king, what,
think you, would happen to the husband of Salome, and what to her? I
should have to train