ddressing the woman, "is the child of whom I spoke to
thee. She is friendless and motherless, but she is free, and I have
brought her so that thou mayest teach her all thou knowest."

In the meanwhile the man with the leonine head had closed the door on
the little party. He came forward eagerly, and raising himself on the
tips of his toes, he put his hands on Antinor's shoulder, and with
gentle pressure forced him to stoop. Then he kissed him on either cheek.

"Greeting to thee, dear friend," he said cheerily. "Thou hast done well
to bring the girl. My mother and I will take great care of her."

"And ye will teach her your religion," said Taurus Antinor earnestly;
"because of that did I bring her. She is young and will be teachable.
She'll understand as a child will, that which hardened hearts are unable
to grasp."

"Nay, friend," said the man simply, "there is not a great deal to
teach, nor a great deal to understand. Love and faith, that is
sufficient ... and, as our dear Lord did tell us, love is the greatest
of all."

For the moment the praefect made no reply. The man had helped him to
cast off his heavy mantle, and he stood now in all the splendour of
barbaric pomp, a strangely incongruous figure in this tiny bare room,
both to his surroundings and to his gentle host and hostess with their
humble garb and simple, timid ways.

She--the woman--had drawn Nola with kindly gesture to her. The child was
crying softly, for she was half-frightened at the strangeness of the
place, and also she was tired after her long walk up and down the rough
road. The woman, with subtle feminine comprehension, soon realised this,
and also understood that the girl, reared in slavery, felt awed in the
presence of so great a lord. So, putting a kindly arm round the slender
form of the child, she led her gently out of the main room to the tiny
cubicle beyond, where she could rest.

The three men were now left alone. Folces, squatting in a dark corner,
kept his eyes fixed upon his master. He took no interest in what went on
around him; he cared nothing about the strangeness of the surroundings,
his master was lord and praefect of Rome, and could visit those whom he
list. But Folces, like a true watch-dog, remained on the alert, silent
and ever suspicious, keeping an eye on his master, remaining obedient
and silent until told to speak.

The man, in the meanwhile, had asked the praefect to sit.

"Wilt rest a while, O friend," he said,