. Should this
deed, however, cost Martialis his life--which he had risked in many a
battle for miserable pay--her will would enable his widow to bring up
their children in happiness and comfort.

The centurion had thrown in a deprecatory word or two, but Berenike
continued as if she had not heard him, till at last Martialis cried:

"You ask too much of me, lady. Caesar is hateful to me, but I am no
longer one of the praetorians, and am banished the country. How is it
possible that I should approach him? How dare I, a common man--"

The lady came closer to him, and whispered:

"You will perform this deed to which I have appointed you in the name of
all the just. We demand nothing from you but your sword. Greater men than
you--the two Aurelians--will guide it. At their word of command you will
do the deed. When they give you the signal, brave Martialis, remember the
unfortunate woman in Alexandria whose death you swore to revenge. As soon
as the tribunes--"

But the centurion was suddenly transformed. "If the tribunes command it,"
he interrupted with decision, his dull eye flashing--"if they demand it
of me, I do it willingly. Tell them Martialis's sword is ever at their
service. It has made short work of stronger men than that vicious
stripling."

Berenike gave the soldier her hand, thanked him hurriedly, and begged
him, as he could pass unharmed through the city, to hasten to her
husband's counting-house by the water-side, to warn him and carry him her
last greetings.

With tears in his eyes Martialis did as she desired. When he had gone,
the steward began to implore his mistress to conceal herself, and not
cast away God's gift of life so sinfully; but she turned from him
resolutely though kindly, and repaired once more to the brothers' room.

One glance at them disclosed to her that they had come to no definite
conclusion; but their hesitation vanished as soon as they heard that the
centurion was ready to draw his sword upon the emperor when they should
give the signal; and Berenike breathed a sigh of relief at this
resolution, and clasped their hands in gratitude.

They, too, implored her to conceal herself, but she merely answered:

"May your youth grow into happy old age! Life can offer me nothing more,
since my child was taken from me--But time presses--I welcome the
murderers, now that I know that revenge will not sleep."

"And your husband?" interposed Nemesianus.

She answered with a bitter smile: