rments they would provide. And her soul,
half childish yet, was hesitating on two sides. But Acte, hearing of
these hesitations, looked at her with astonishment as if the maiden
were talking in a fever. To oppose Caesar's will, expose oneself from the
first moment to his anger? To act thus one would need to be a child that
knows not what it says. From Lygia's own words it appears that she is,
properly speaking, not really a hostage, but a maiden forgotten by her
own people. No law of nations protects her; and even if it did, Caesar
is powerful enough to trample on it in a moment of anger. It has pleased
Caesar to take her, and he will dispose of her. Thenceforth she is at his
will, above which there is not another on earth.

"So it is," continued Acte. "I too have read the letters of Paul of
Tarsus, and I know that above the earth is God, and the Son of God, who
rose from the dead; but on the earth there is only Caesar. Think of this,
Lygia. I know too that thy doctrine does not permit thee to be what
I was, and that to you as to the Stoics,--of whom Epictetus has told
me,--when it comes to a choice between shame and death, it is permitted
to choose only death. But canst thou say that death awaits thee and not
shame too? Hast thou heard of the daughter of Sejanus, a young maiden,
who at command of Tiberius had to pass through shame before her death,
so as to respect a law which prohibits the punishment of virgins with
death? Lygia, Lygia, do not irritate Caesar. If the decisive moment comes
when thou must choose between disgrace and death, thou wilt act as thy
faith commands; but seek not destruction thyself, and do not irritate
for a trivial cause an earthly and at the same time a cruel divinity."

Acte spoke with great compassion, and even with enthusiasm; and being
a little short-sighted, she pushed her sweet face up to Lygia's as if
wishing to see surely the effect of her words.

But Lygia threw her arms around Acte's neck with childish trustfulness
and said,--"Thou art kind, Acte."

Acte, pleased by the praise and confidence, pressed her to her heart;
and then disengaging herself from the arms of the maiden, answered,--"My
happiness has passed and my joy is gone, but I am not wicked." Then she
began to walk with quick steps through the room and to speak to herself,
as if in despair.

"No! And he was not wicked. He thought himself good at that time, and he
wished to be good. I know that best. All his change came