ick and
strong. Oh! by thy right hand, and thy father's ashes, lose not a
moment!_"

The day for the sports in the amphitheater had come and all the seats
were filled with eager and expectant people. The gladiatorial fights and
other games of the arena were completed.

"Bring forth the lion and Glaucus the Athenian," said the editor.

Just then a loud cry was heard at one of the entrances of the arena; the
crowd gave way and suddenly Sallust appeared on the senatorial benches,
his hair disheveled; breathless; half exhausted--he cast his eyes
hastily around the ring.

"Remove the Athenian," he cried, "haste,--he is innocent. Arrest Arbaces
the Egyptian. He is the murderer of Apaecides."

"Art thou mad, O Sallust?" said the praetor, "what means this raving?"

"Remove the Athenian--quick, or his blood be on your head. I bring with
me the eye-witness to the death of Apaecides. Room there--stand
back--give way. People of Pompeii, fix every eye on Arbaces--there he
sits--room there for the priest Calenus."

"Enough at present," said the praetor. "The details must be reserved for
a more suiting time and place. Ho! guards! remove the accused Glaucus,
arrest Arbaces, guard Calenus! Sallust, we hold you responsible for your
accusation. Let the sports be resumed."

As the praetor gave the word of release, there was a cry of joy--a female
voice--a child voice--and it was of joy! It rang through the heart of
the assembly with electric force--it was touching, it was holy, that
child's voice!

"Silence!" said the grave praetor--"who is there?"

"The blind girl--Nydia," answered Sallust; "it is her hand that raised
Calenus from the grave and delivered Glaucus from the lion."

Stunned by his reprieve, doubting that he was awake, Glaucus had been
led by the officers of the arena into a small cell within the walls of
the theater. They threw a loose robe over his form and crowded around in
congratulation and wonder. There was an impatient and fretful cry
without the cell; the throng gave way, and the blind girl flung herself
at the feet of Glaucus.

"It is I who saved thee," she sobbed, "now let me die!"

"Nydia, my child!--my preserver!"

"Oh, let me feel thy touch--thy breath! yes, yes, thou livest! We are
not too late! That dread door methought would never yield! But thou
livest! Thou livest yet!--and I--I have saved thee!"

FOOTNOTE:

[11] Adapted by Robt. I. Fulton from "Last Days of Pompeii."

O CAPTAIN, M