the legate, a very tall man.
He glanced up to the side where she was, and Melissa recognized the
Egyptian Zminis. At this her hand sought the place of her heart, for she
felt as though it had ceased to beat. What! This wretch, the deadly
foe of her father and brother, here, at the head of the Roman troops?
Something horrible, impossible, must be about to happen!

The sun was mirrored in the shining coat of his horse, and in the
lictor's axe he bore, carrying it like a commander's staff. He raised it
once, twice, and, high as she was above him, she could see how sharp the
contrast was between the yellow whites of his eyes and the swarthy color
of his face.

Now, for the third time, the bright steel of the axe flashed in the
sunshine, and immediately after trumpet-calls sounded and were repeated
at short intervals, which still, to her, seemed intolerably long. How
Melissa had presence of mind enough to count them she knew not, but she
did. At the seventh all was still, and soon after a short blast on the
tuba rang out from above, below, and from all sides of the stadium. Each
went like an arrow to the heart of the anxious, breathless girl. From
the moment when she had seen Zminis she had expected the worst, but the
cry of rage and despair from a thousand voices which now split her
ear told her how far the incredible reality outdid her most horrible
imaginings.

Breathless, and with a throbbing brain, she leaned out as far as she
could, and neither felt the burning sun-which was now beginning to fall
on the western face of the temple--nor heeded the risk of being seen and
involving herself and her protectress in ruin. Trembling like a gazelle
in a frosty winter's night, she would gladly have withdrawn from the
window, but she felt as if some spell held her there. She longed to shut
her ears and eyes, but she could not help looking on. Her every instinct
prompted her to shriek for help, but she could not utter a sound.

There she stood, seeing and hearing, and her low moaning changed to that
laughter which anguish borrows from gladness when it has exhausted all
forms of expression. At last she sank on her knees on the floor, and
while she shed tears of pain still laughed shrilly, till she understood
with sudden horror what was happening. She started violently; a sob
convulsed her bosom; she wept and wept, and these tears did her good.

When, at one in the afternoon, the sun fell full on her window, she
had not yet fou