thee or
Vinicius."

He turned toward the villa, and they followed. Their hearts were filled
with delight over the victory; and Vinicius had to use self-restraint to
avoid throwing himself on the neck of Petronius, for it seemed now that
all dangers and obstacles were removed.

In the atrium of the villa young Nerva and Tullius Senecio were
entertaining the Augusta with conversation. Terpnos and Diodorus were
tuning citharae.

Nero entered, sat in an armchair inlaid with tortoise-shell, whispered
something in the ear of a Greek slave near his side, and waited.

The page returned soon with a golden casket. Nero opened it and took out
a necklace of great opals.

"These are jewels worthy of this evening," said he.

"The light of Aurora is playing in them," answered Poppaea, convinced
that the necklace was for her.

Caesar, now raising, now lowering the rosy stones, said at
last,--"Vinicius, thou wilt give, from me, this necklace to her whom I
command thee to marry, the youthful daughter of the Lygian king."

Poppaea's glance, filled with anger and sudden amazement, passed from
Caesar to Vinicius. At last it rested on Petronius. But he, leaning
carelessly over the arm of the chair, passed his hand along the back of
the harp as if to fix its form firmly in his mind.

Vinicius gave thanks for the gift, approached Petronius, and
asked,--"How shall I thank thee for what thou hast done this day for
me?"

"Sacrifice a pair of swans to Euterpe," replied Petronius, "praise
Caesar's songs, and laugh at omens. Henceforth the roaring of lions will
not disturb thy sleep, I trust, nor that of thy Lygian lily."

"No," said Vinicius; "now I am perfectly at rest."

"May Fortune favor thee! But be careful, for Caesar is taking his lute
again. Hold thy breath, listen, and shed tears."

In fact Caesar had taken the lute and raised his eyes. In the hall
conversation had stopped, and people were as still as if petrified.
Terpnos and Diodorus, who had to accompany Caesar, were on the alert,
looking now at each other and now at his lips, waiting for the first
tones of the song.

Just then a movement and noise began in the entrance; and after a moment
Caesar's freedman, Phaon, appeared from beyond the curtain. Close behind
him was the consul Lecanius.

Nero frowned.

"Pardon, divine Imperator," said Phaon, with panting voice, "there is a
conflagration in Rome! The greater part of the city is in flames!"

At this news all spra