t and snatching flakes of flame off every
burning mass. Each blazing storehouse was a gigantic torch throwing a
broad glare into the darkness of the night. The white marble of the
tallest beacon tower in the world, on the island of Pharos, reflected a
rosy hue, but its far gleaming light shone pale and colorless. The dark
hulls of the larger ships and the flotilla of boats in the background
were afloat in a fiery sea, and the still water under the shore mirrored
the illumination in which the whole of Lochias was wrapped.

Balbilla could not tire of admiring this varying scene, in which the most
gorgeous hues vied with each other and the intensest light contrasted
with the deepest shadows. And she had ample time to dwell on the
marvellous picture before her eyes, for her chariot could only proceed
slowly, and at a point where the street led up from the King's harbor to
the palace, lictors stood in her way and declared positively that any
farther advance was out of the question. The horses, much scared by the
glare of the fire and the crowd that pressed round them, could hardly be
controlled, first rearing and then kicking at the front board of the
chariot. The charioteer declared he could no longer be answerable. The
people who had hurried to the rescue now began to abuse the women, who
ought to have staid at home at the loom rather than come stopping the way
for useful citizens.

"There is time enough to go out driving by daylight!" cried one man; and
another: "If a spark falls in those curls another conflagration will
break out."

The position of the ladies was becoming every instant more unendurable
and Balbilla desired the charioteer to turn round; but in the swarming
mass of men that filled the street this was easier said than done. One of
the horses broke the strap which fastened the yoke that rested on his
withers to the pole, started aside and forced back the crowd which now
began to scold and scream loudly. Balbilla wanted to spring out of the
chariot, but Claudia clung tightly to her and conjured her not to leave
her in the lurch in the midst of the danger. The spoilt patrician's
daughter was not timid, but on this occasion she would have given much
not to have followed Verus. At first she thought, "A delightful
adventure! still, it will not be perfect till it is over." But presently
her bold experiment lost every trace of charm, and repentance that she
had ever undertaken it filled her mind. She was far near