ee whether or not she had forgotten him, and certainly knowing that
in any event her position toward him had become changed, he was daring
to covertly suggest a renewal of their old relationship. But the next
words reassured her.
'We lived near each other in Samos, my lady. I was happy, and I blessed
the fates for smiling upon us. How was I then to know that she would be
torn away from me upon the very day when I was to have led her to my own
home?'
'You say that she is here? Is it--do you speak of Leta?' cried AEnone.
'Leta was her name,' he responded, in some surprise that his secret had
been so promptly penetrated before he had more than half unfolded it.
'And she is here.'
There was to AEnone perhaps one instant of almost unconscious regret at
learning that she had been forgotten for another. But it passed away
like a fleeting cloud--banished from her mind by the full blaze of
happiness which poured in upon her at the thought that here at last was
what would counteract the cruel schemes which were warring against her
peace, and would thereby bring sure relief to her sorrow.
'And she is here,' repeated Cleotos. 'When at the first she was torn
from my side, most noble lady, I would have died, if I could, for I did
not believe that life had any further blessing in store for me. But,
though the Roman armies were cruel, the fates have been kind, and have
again brought us near. It was but a week ago that, as I looked up by the
moonlight at these palace walls, I saw her. Can it be, that after so
long a time, the gods meant I should be brought near, to have but this
one glimpse of happiness, and then again be sundered from it?'
'It cannot be--it was not meant to be,' exclaimed AEnone, with energy;
and again lifting the purse of gold, she placed it in the centurion's
hand. 'There, I will purchase your slave,' she said. 'Take from this his
proper price, and leave him with me.'
CHAPTER IX.
The centurion received the purse with ill-dissembled joy. Had he been
fully able to control himself, he would doubtless have maintained a
quiet air of dignified self-possession, befitting one giving full value
for what he had received, and therefore not expected to exhibit any
peculiarly marked or lively satisfaction. But the affair had been
concluded so suddenly, and with such a liberal confidence in his
discretion, that, for the moment, his hands trembled with excitement,
and his face shone with avaricious pleasure.
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