ing; to kill a traitor is even
as pleasant as to kill a bear or a wolf. But suppose Glaucus to perish
innocently? How take on his conscience a new murder, a new sin, a new
offence against the Lamb?

"There is no time for a trial, my son," said Chilo. "The traitor will
hurry from Ostrianum straightway to Caesar in Antium, or hide in the
house of a certain patrician whom he is serving. I will give thee a
sign; if thou show it after the death of Glaucus, the bishop and the
Great Apostle will bless thy deed."

Saying this, he took out a small coin, and began to search for a
knife at his belt; having found it, he scratched with the point on the
sestertium the sign of the cross; this coin he gave to the laborer.

"Here is the sentence of Glaucus, and a sign for thee. If thou show
this to the bishop after the death of Glaucus, he will forgive thee the
killing which thou hast done without wishing it."

The laborer stretched out his hand involuntarily for the coin; but
having the first murder too freshly in his memory just then, he
experienced a feeling of terror.

"Father," said he with a voice almost of entreaty, "dost thou take this
deed on thy conscience, and hast thou thyself heard Glaucus betraying
his brethren?"

Chilo understood that he must give proofs, mention names, otherwise
doubt might creep into the heart of the giant. All at once a happy
thought flashed through his head.

"Listen, Urban," said he, "I dwell in Corinth, but I came from Kos;
and here in Rome I instruct in the religion of Christ a certain serving
maiden named Eunice. She serves as vestiplica in the house of a friend
of Caesar, a certain Petronius. In that house I have heard how Glaucus
has undertaken to betray all the Christians; and, besides, he has
promised another informer of Caesar's, Vinicius, to find a certain maiden
for him among the Christians."

Here he stopped and looked with amazement at the laborer, whose eyes
blazed suddenly like the eyes of a wild beast, and his face took on an
expression of mad rage and threat.

"What is the matter with thee?" asked Chilo, almost in fear.

"Nothing, father; to-morrow I will kill Glaucus."

The Greek was silent. After a while he took the arm of the laborer,
turned him so that the light of the moon struck his face squarely, and
examined him with care. It was evident that he was wavering in spirit
whether to inquire further and bring everything out with clearness, or
for that time to stop wit