" let him spring over his arm, hugged the creature and then
pushed him off again in play. Then he closed the door and went into the
apartments leading to the courtyard.

"But he must come back this way to go to his own rooms," said Paula to
her companion with a sigh of relief. "We must wait. But now we must not
lose a minute. Come over to the door of the tablinum. The dog will know
me now and will not bark again." They hastened on, and when they had
reached the door, which lay in shadow within a deep doorway, Paula asked
her companion: "Did you see who the man was who came out?"

"My lord Orion," said Hiram. "He was co--co--coming home from the town
when I preceded you across the yard."

"Indeed?" she said with apparent indifference, and as she leaned against
the cold metal door-panels she looked back into the garden and thought
she was now free to return. She would describe to the freedman the way
he must now go--it was quite simple; but she had not had time to do so
when, from a room dividing the viridarium from the vestibule she heard
first a woman's shrill voice; then the deeper tones of a man; and hardly
had they exchanged a few sentences, when every sound was lost in the
furious barking of the hound, and immediately after a loud shriek of
pain from a woman fell upon her ear, and the noise of a heavy object
falling to the ground.

What had happened? It must be something portentous and terrible; of that
there could be no doubt; and ere long Paula's fears were justified. Out
from the room where the scene had taken place rushed Orion, and with him
the dog, across the grass-plot which was usually respected and cherished
as holy ground, towards the side of the house facing the river, which
was where he and all the family had their rooms.

"Now!" cried Paula, quickly leading the way.

She flew in breathless haste through the first room and into the
unguarded hall; but she had not reached the middle of it when she gave a
scream, for before her in the moonlight, lay a body, motionless, at full
length, on the hard, marble floor.

"Run, Hiram, fly!" she cried to her companion. "The door is
ajar--open--I can see it is."

She fell on her knees by the side of the lifeless form, raised the head,
and saw--the beautiful, deathlike face of the crazy Persian slave. She
felt her hand wet with the blood that had soaked the hapless girl's
thick, fair hair, and she shuddered; but she resisted her impulse of
horror and loathing,