I cannot tell you."

"Why, dear Cyran?"

"Because--" the slave-girl hesitated; then timidly and with trembling
lips she whispered, "because, dear mistress, I--I love you." She
seemed to bend beneath her burden and, knelt beside her mistress and
wept.

"Go--please go," said Appius, turning to Cyran. "You irritate me, and
I cannot understand you."

But Arria divined the secret of the poor slave-girl, and pitied her.

Cyran rose and left them.

"The great love may come to you, and then you shall understand," said
Arria to Appius.

"The great madness!" her brother exclaimed. "I like not these Jewish
cattle. The gods forgive me that we have fallen among them. With a
Jew for a pilot we should make a landing in Hades."

Something in his manner alarmed the girl.

"What mean you?" she inquired.

"I will tell you to-morrow," said her brother. "'Tis time you went to
your couch and I to mine. Have no fear."

Now, the young Roman had begun to suspect the pilot of some evil plan.
After the girl had left him he sat drinking wine for hours. Soon he
was in a merry way, singing songs and jesting with all who passed him.
Long after the dark had come, when Tepas only remained upon deck,
Appius reeled up and down, singing, with a flask in his hand. The moon
had risen. Eastward her light lay like hammered silver on the ripples.

Appius neared the tall, rugged form of Tepas. Against the illumined
waters he could see the long, bent nose, the great beard, the shaggy
brows, the large, hairy head of his pilot. Tepas, who ruled his men
with scourge and pilum, had made himself feared of all save the young
Roman noble. Appius halted, looking scornfully at the Jew. Then he
shouted:

"A knave, upon my honor! 'Tis better to be drunk, for then one has
hope of recovery. You long-haired dog! Here is something would make
you bay the moon. Drink and howl. You weary me with silence."

Tepas, familiar with the contempt of Romans, took the flask, and,
pouring into his cup, drank of the rich wine. Then Appius held the
flask above his head, and with a word of scorn flung it into the sea.
He started to cross the deck and fell heavily. Now, after striving, as
it seemed, to regain his feet, he lay awhile muttering and helpless and
soon began to snore. The deck was deserted by all save him and the
pilot. Tepas looked down at the young Roman. Already, far off in the
moonlight, he had seen cliffs and knew they were on the Isle