and I have seen how ye acted with
me and with Chilo; when I remember your deeds, they are like a dream,
and it seems to me that I ought not to believe my ears or eyes. But
answer me this question: Art thou happy?"

"I am," answered Lygia. "One who confesses Christ cannot be unhappy."
Vinicius looked at her, as though what she said passed every measure of
human understanding.

"And hast thou no wish to return to Pomponia?"

"I should like, from my whole soul, to return to her; and shall return,
if such be God's will."

"I say to thee, therefore, return; and I swear by my lares that I will
not raise a hand against thee."

Lygia thought for a moment, and answered,--"No, I cannot expose
those near me to danger. Caesar does not like the Plautiuses. Should
I return--thou knowest how every news is spread throughout Rome by
slaves--my return would be noised about in the city. Nero would hear of
it surely through his slaves, and punish Aulus and Pomponia,--at least
take me from them a second time."

"True," answered Vinicius, frowning, "that would be possible. He would
do so, even to show that his will must be obeyed. It is true that he
only forgot thee, or would remember thee, because the loss was not his,
but mine. Perhaps, if he took thee from Aulus and Pomponia, he would
send thee to me and I could give thee back to them."

"Vinicius, wouldst thou see me again on the Palatine?" inquired Lygia.

He set his teeth, and answered,--"No. Thou art right. I spoke like a
fool! No!"

And all at once he saw before him a precipice, as it were without
bottom. He was a patrician, a military tribune, a powerful man; but
above every power of that world to which he belonged was a madman whose
will and malignity it was impossible to foresee. Only such people as the
Christians might cease to reckon with Nero or fear him,--people for whom
this whole world, with its separations and sufferings, was as nothing;
people for whom death itself was as nothing. All others had to
tremble before him. The terrors of the time in which they lived showed
themselves to Vinicius in all their monstrous extent. He could not
return Lygia to Aulus and Pomponia, then, through fear that the monster
would remember her, and turn on her his anger; for the very same reason,
if he should take her as wife, he might expose her, himself, and Aulus.
A moment of ill-humor was enough to ruin all. Vinicius felt, for
the first time in life, that either the world must