stool beside her couch. Surely those were footsteps in the
hall--yes, footsteps--and the approaching light of a lamp.

Marcia's heart stood still. The slave had started from his seat and
drawn far back in the darkest corner of the room; then the curtains
were pushed cautiously aside, and the tall form of Iddilcar stood
revealed by the light of the small, silver lamp he bore in his hand. A
long, dark mantle enveloped him from head to foot.

"Come," he said, speaking sharply but in low tones; and, holding the
lamp above his head, he tried to peer into the apartment. "Come; it
will soon be light. Ah! you have not arisen? No matter; I have
another cloak, and we must not delay. The slaves are well bribed, and
Calavius sleeps soundly--forever. My horses, good horses, are in the
street; a few moments and we gain the gate. The schalischim's own ring
is on my finger, and the seal of the Great Council shall win us egress.
_You_ are my slave: that is how you shall go with me--and I accept the
omen."

He laughed low and harshly, and Marcia shuddered, thinking of her host
lying slain--by his false slaves?--by the order of Hannibal?--no,
rather by the hand or plotting of this wretch who now called her,
"slave."

"Come, come quickly, Romanus," he said, mimicking the Latin
nomenclature of foreign slaves. At the same time he took a step
forward into the room and let the curtains fall behind him. "Come, or
I shall have to order the rods to those white shoulders. That would
be--"

And then a shadow seemed to glide forward from the corner half behind
him. For a moment a stream of lamplight fell upon a white, set face
behind the Carthaginian's shoulder--a face that was indeed from the
land of the four rivers; an arm was lashed around the priest's neck,
and, while Marcia stared spellbound at the shade that had come back to
save her, the lamp fell from Iddilcar's hand,--and then she lay still
and listened to the furious struggle that ensued, the scuffling of feet
upon the marble floor, the breathing that came and went in short, quick
gasps. Now it seemed that both fell together; but not in victory or
defeat, for the noises told of continuing combat; no words, only the
horrible sound of writhing and of hard-drawn breath.

Breaking at last from the bonds of dazed wonder, she glided from the
couch, groping for the fallen lamp. She must _see_. She must _know_.
Then she remembered the room-lamp that stood on a stand by the b