that had scared away
Diogenes grew louder, and Hieronymus emerged from the archway and came
to Theron.

"Come," Hieronymus said. "Some unfamiliar gentleness in the King permits
you to see your daughter. Go at once. The jailer will admit you."

Theron bowed his head. "Your blessing and your prayers," he said. Then
he rose and moved slowly to the archway and disappeared.

Hieronymus looked after him thoughtfully. "Oh," he mused, "that a poor
priest's blessing might be as potent as a great King's curse!"

At that moment a great trumpet sounded, the signal to admit the people
of Syracuse to the royal gardens. Hieronymus could hear the eager shouts
and the tramp of hurrying feet. Sadly he turned and followed Theron to
the cell where Perpetua lay.

The arena was not long empty. Soon the human flood poured over its sand,
babbling, shouting, eager to get seated.

"Hurry, dame, hurry!" cried one citizen to his mate. "'Tis first come
first served, and there is a rare scrambling for the seats."

"I wish," grumbled another, "the King had given us leave to enter the
gardens earlier. We could have sat here cosily, eating and drinking till
the sport began."

"Nay," philosophized a third, "kings have their whimsies like the rest
of the world and love to make folk uncomfortable."

"Humph!" said a stalwart fellow as he sped. "If I had an odd life or two
to spare I would strike a stroke for the child."

"Ay," grunted his companion, "and be damned for your pains if she be no
better than a black witch."

"I cannot believe it," stalwart said, stoutly.

His companion was positive.

"They say there's no mortal doubt of the matter. She fondles a black
cat, her familiar, and straddles a broomstick for a sky-ride when the
wind is howling."

A listener commented briskly. "Nay, then it is no worse than very well
that she should die. For my part, I cannot abide cats since my
neighbor's grimalkin stole my sausage."

And so they hurried on gossiping, a stream of humanity climbing to its
appointed places. Languidly through the crowd moved Lycabetta with her
women.

"Truly," Lycabetta said to Lysidice, "the King is ever a good friend to
us. We shall sit in the royal quarter and see as well as any of the
courtly wantons. It is a warm day, but I swear I shall feel a cold at my
heart till I can warm my palms at the girl blazing."

"Have you no pity for her?" Lysidice asked.

Lycabetta laughed. "Why should I, you green ape? She is our