e palace, she tells us, she hears no
sounds but the harsh and grating voice of Fronto, or the smooth and
silvery tones of Varus. As soon, she says, as Aurelian shall have
departed for the East, shall she dwell either with us, or fly to the
quiet retreat of Zenobia, at Tibur.

* * * * *

The day appointed for the death of Probus has arrived, and never did the
sun shine upon a fairer one in Rome. It seems as if some high festival
were come, for all Rome is afoot. Heralds parade the streets,
proclaiming the death of Probus, Felix, and other Christians, in the
Flavian, at the hour of noon. At the corner of every street, and at all
the public places, the name of "Probus the Christian, condemned to the
beasts," meets the eye. Long before the time of the sacrifice had come,
the avenues leading to the theatre, and all the neighborhood of it, were
crowded with the excited thousands of those who desired to witness the
spectacle. There was little of beauty, wealth, fashion, or nobility in
Rome that was not represented in the dense multitude that filled the
seats of the boundless amphitheatre. Probus had said to me, at my last
interview with him, 'Piso, you may think it a weakness in me, but I
would that one at least, whose faith is mine, and whose heart beats as
mine, might be with me at the final hour. I would, at that hour, meet
one eye that can return the glance of friendship. It will be a source of
strength to me, and I know not how much I may need it.' I readily
promised what he asked, though, as you may believe, Fausta, I would
willingly have been spared the trial. So that making part of that tide
pouring toward the centre, I found myself borne along at the appointed
hour to the scene of suffering and death.

As I was about to pass beneath the arched-way which leads to the winding
passages within, I heard myself saluted by a well-known voice, and,
turning to the quarter whence it came, beheld Isaac, but without his
pack, and in a costume so different from that which he usually wears,
that at first I doubted the report of my eyes. But the sound of his
voice, as he again addressed me, assured me it could be no other than
he.

'Did I not tell thee, Piso,' said he, 'that, when the Christian was in
his straits, there thou wouldst see the Jew, looking on, and taking his
sport? This is for Probus the very end I looked for. And how should it
be otherwise? Is he to live and prosper, who aims at the