Chios sent for Endora. There was a calm light in her eyes such as he had never before seen. Ere he could speak, she said:

'I know: it is of Saronia thou wouldst speak.'

'True, woman. Dost thou know she is charged with the murder of the High Priest?'

'I know all. Fear not, Chios. Saronia shall not suffer for the crime I have committed.'

'Rash woman! how canst thou atone? She is a prisoner, and has abjured her faith.'

'That may be, noble Chios; but take my word for once: the guilty shall suffer for their own sins. This vile body of mine shall be torn limb from limb rather than one hair of her head shall be plucked. No more of evil for me!'

'Now, listen, Endora. Your heart is right, but your words are idle. She must be saved, but in another way. I will rescue her. Thou knowest the Temple, and must find where she is lodged. Find out if access is possible; bring me full account, and great reward shall be thine. Canst thou do this?'

'Yes; but not for reward.'

'What then?'

'For love I bear to her.'

'Very well. Be it so. Lose no time. She is already under a sentence of death, and will die. Go! go! Great God! what a death. Oh that I might die for her! The Ephesians gathered together to make sport—to make sport of Saronia the beautiful, my love! Polluted by the touch of a coarse gaoler. A sight to gratify the Romans, a jest for the rabble of Ephesus, and a cruel death ending all. She who has wielded the sceptre of power, highest and brightest among the women of Ionia, commanded spirits in legions from the underworld, stopped the eagles in their flight, turned the courses of the clouds, baring the face of the silvery moon; she who has dropped the sceptre of this power, and robed herself with a trust in God—shall she be forsaken? No, no! It cannot be so. If she could breathe out her life supported by these arms of mine; if I could but close her lovely eyes in death and kiss her whitening brow, then could I fall also asleep and awake to meet her on the other shore.'

'Chios!' said the Proconsul, interrupting the Greek. 'How fares my friend? I have news for thee.'

'Good, or evil?'

'Judge thou. The Roman fleet, under the command of Lucius, is in the offing. Their numbers crowd the sea.'

'Lucius! The fleet! Lucius!' exclaimed Chios.

'True; Lucius is almost here.'

'Why comes there such a multitude of ships?' said Chios. 'Is there reason?'

'There may be. This much I confide in thee: ere many hours have passed, the mighty walls of this great city will glisten with the spears of Roman men, in number such as Ephesus has never seen since Claudian ruled or Nero wielded power. To-morrow will be a great day—the streets so full of Roman soldiers that standing-room will not be left for rioters.'

'What does this portend?'

'Nothing save a military show of Roman power. Nevertheless, thou wilt do well to keep within doors to-morrow.'

'Why?'

'Because I wish it so. Thou wilt be at home to-morrow, eh, Chios? Chios, dost hear me?'

'I hear thee, but will not obey. Dost think I could remain here to-morrow, when it is the day for Saronia's murder? and thou, too, hast consented to this deed of shame. Roman, Roman, thou art false!'

'Peace, Chios! Peace! What I have promised thee, I will do. Hast thou Chian wine? Bring it forth; let us quaff it together.

'Now hark ye. I go back to Rome. I hate this place. The associations are not to my liking. She whom I once loved has gone. It is not congenial to me to meet Lucius. My story has reached Rome, reached Nero, but that does not affect me. Nothing pleases him better than to keep a respectable gulf between a Proconsul and Lucius, the fighting admiral, well knowing we shall not connive to rebel against him. But there must exist a feeling, a strong feeling, between Lucius and—your friend. Of course, Lucius is haughty; too much Roman blood runs in his veins to openly disapprove of what befell his daughter, well knowing, also, she deserved it. But a father cannot help feeling. I am better away. A Roman city draped in purple suits me better than Ephesus; and if I can close in with Nero's set, I gain more wealth in one year than in a lifetime here. I wonder how Lucius will receive the news of his wife's death?'

'Venusta dead!'

'Yes. I thought thou didst know of it.'

'No. When did she die?'

'She died on the day Saronia abjured her faith and was disgraced. The shock of joy killed her.'

'This, too, is sad.'

'Why so? Her loss will be felt by Lucius only. He is old, and will mourn briefly. Besides, he will have his hands full for awhile. Come, cheer up, man; thou shalt go with me to Rome, and I will make thee merry. Thou hast never really lived yet. I am away. Don't forget. Remain home to-morrow to receive me. I will come before thou art required at the arena; and, should I not, then do not stay. Be in time; there will be a goodly show, but—Saronia shall not be there. Hear ye, Chios?'

'What dost thou mean?'

'No more than I have said. Good-bye, good friend.'

And Varro was gone.

'What a strange being!' exclaimed Chios. 'What does he mean? I cannot understand him. I believe he means good, and knows more than he says, and intends to help. Some great mystery attaches itself to those warlike preparations. I must be patient until to-morrow, desist from going to the Temple to-night to rescue her. He goes to Rome. It is well known he is a staunch friend of Nero. Lucius is not. What can this great fleet of many thousand armed men mean? To-morrow will solve the problem, for what is to be done will be done quickly.'