have been then?
Had he hurried away? probably enough. Again a slight scratching noise,
as of some one softly changing his position,--like the sound which had
startled the priest, came to her ears. Ah, protecting gods! what was
true, and what but dreams? Her whole life was passing before her,
phantasmagorial and unreal. Surely some one was present! She _felt_
it. Had Iddilcar come already? The horror of the thought gave her
courage, and, thrusting down the coverlid, she opened her eyes
defiantly and tried to pierce the darkness. Nothing was visible, but
she knew she was not alone, and, leaning upon one elbow, she reached
out, groping.

Suddenly a hand grasped hers, a strong, bony hand, gripping it tightly,
and by its very energy commanding silence. It seemed strange to her
that she did not scream, but then she had known that she would find
some one, and had the hand been Iddilcar's, she would certainly have
realized it by the loathing in her soul. For her, now, all other men
had become friends. Therefore she was not frightened, did not cry
out--rather it was a soothing sense of companionship that came to
her--almost of reliance. Why had this man come?--perhaps to help her;
surely not to injure. Who was he? man or god? Gods had appeared to
those of olden times, when the Republic was young, and Romans
worshipped, believing. She felt very brave--fearless.

"Who are you?" she whispered.

"I am a slave," answered a voice. "I brought you here, and I am
watching."

It was a voice that, while it rang hard, yet had in it an assurance of
protection--even of power, and it thrilled her as with some familiar
memory. Nevertheless she could not place its owner in the household.
Calavius had many slaves; a few of them had been free-born, and some,
perhaps, might even have known a measure of social standing, before the
turn of war or of financial fortunes had lost them to home and position.

"Who are you?" she asked again.

"I am a new servant," said the other. "Pacuvius Calavius bought me
yesterday in the Street of the Whitened Feet."

She was silent a moment, trying hard to think; she felt the man's hand
trembling, and then, suddenly realizing, she drew her own away.

"And yet you are going to-morrow with this beast--this animal!" said
the voice, bitterly.

Startled again by the tone and accent, no less than by the words, she
burst out:--

"Ah! why do you say that?--but you do not know, and I cannot tell