answered Nydia; 'the solitude appals me. Sit with me, I pray, a little
while. Nay, fear not that I should attempt to escape; place thy seat
before the door. Keep thine eye on me--I will not stir from this spot.'

Sosia, who was a considerable gossip himself, was moved by this address.
He pitied one who had nobody to talk with--it was his case too; he
pitied--and resolved to relieve himself. He took the hint of Nydia,
placed a stool before the door, leant his back against it, and replied:

'I am sure I do not wish to be churlish; and so far as a little innocent
chat goes, I have no objection to indulge you. But mind, no tricks--no
more conjuring!'

'No, no; tell me, dear Sosia, what is the hour?'

'It is already evening--the goats are going home.'

'O gods! how went the trial'

'Both condemned.'

Nydia repressed the shriek. 'Well--well, I thought it would be so. When
do they suffer?'

'To-morrow, in the amphitheatre. If it were not for thee, little
wretch, I should be allowed to go with the rest and see it.'

Nydia leant back for some moments. Nature could endure no more--she had
fainted away. But Sosia did not perceive it, for it was the dusk of
eve, and he was full of his own privations. He went on lamenting the
loss of so delightful a show, and accusing the injustice of Arbaces for
singling him out from all his fellows to be converted into a gaoler; and
ere he had half finished, Nydia, with a deep sigh, recovered the sense
of life.

'Thou sighest, blind one, at my loss! Well, that is some comfort. So
long as you acknowledge how much you cost me, I will endeavor not to
grumble. It is hard to be ill-treated, and yet not pitied.'

'Sosia, how much dost thou require to make up the purchase of thy
freedom?'

'How much? Why, about two thousand sesterces.'

'The gods be praised! not more? Seest thou these bracelets and this
chain? They are well worth double that sum. I will give them thee
if...'

'Tempt me not: I cannot release thee. Arbaces is a severe and awful
master. Who knows but I might feed the fishes of the Sarnus Alas! all
the sesterces in the world would not buy me back into life. Better a
live dog than a dead lion.'

'Sosia, thy freedom! Think well! If thou wilt let me out only for one
little hour!--let me out at midnight--I will return ere to-morrow's
dawn; nay, thou canst go with me.'

'No,' said Sosia, sturdily, 'a slave once disobeyed Arbaces, and he was
never more hea