f on a big divan, his breath
coming fast. "I forgot the lights. I thought of them suddenly, and
ran to save you. If I had been running in the games I should have won
the laurel of Caesar."

"I was wrong--he could not have meant to slay me," thought Vergilius.
"Not by the paws of the leopard."

Cyran stood near the door, weeping. Antipater rose and led her to
Vergilius.

"The girl is yours," said he. "I am glad to be done with her. Come,
all."

They followed him to the palace, and Vergilius bade the girl dress and
be ready to join his pedisequi in the outer hall. She knelt before him
and kissed the border of his tunic.

"Oh, my young master!" said she, "I shall be of those who part the
briers in your way." Then she hurried to obey him.

"I would speak with you, noble son of Varro," said Antipater, beckoning.

Vergilius followed to the deep atrium of the palace, where they stood
alone.

"You have one thing I desire, and I will pay you five thousand aurei to
relinquish it--five thousand aurei," the Jew whispered.

"And what is it you would buy of me, noble prince?"

"A mere plaything! A bouquet that will fade shortly and be flung
aside. The thing happens to suit my fancy, and--and I can afford it."

In the moment of silence that followed this remark a stern look of
inquiry came into the face of Vergilius.

"Man, do you not know? 'Tis the sister of Appius," Antipater added,
lightly.

"Cur of Judea!" hissed the knight, his sword flashing out of its
scabbard, "I shall cut you down and fling you out to the dogs. Fight
here and now. I demand it!"

The young Roman spoke loudly and stood waiting. Those others had heard
the challenge and were now coming near. Antipater stood silent,
glaring, as had the leopard, with an evil leer at his foe, and thinking
no doubt of the warning of Augustus. The stiff, straight hairs in his
mustache quivered as he turned slowly, watchfully, towards the others,
who were now standing near. Since his funeral should occur on the same
day, how could he fight with Vergilius?

"You dare not," the latter added, fiercely; "and before these men I
denounce you as a coward--a coward who fears to raise a hand."

His arm was extended, his finger at the face of the Jew, now white with
passion. Half a moment passed in which there was no word.

"You living carrion!" said the young knight, turning and walking away.
"I am done with you."

He took the hand of the poor slave Cyr