A large caravan rolled past, which seemed to attract attention. From their post of observation at the base of the pillar, Clœlia addressed a woman, a widow like herself, and asked, nodding her head in the direction of the caravan—
“More beasts for the arena?”
“Yes,” was the answer, “and more sport for them. A whole body of Christians have been seized to-day while burrowing like ants in their underground resort. There will be good sport to-morrow or next day. Will you not come with me to see it? They have two huge Barbary lions in that caravan, six leopards, and a panther that has already done to death two of his keepers.”
“Yes, there will be fine sport,” the woman repeated, her dark eyes flashing with a cruel light. “Ah! They have caught another. See! Two!—three more! Look! they are trying to escape; they are seized by the lictors. One looks as if she would be a sweet mouthful for the lion. I must hasten to find out who they are.”
The woman turned away, and Hyacintha could distinguish three figures being borne off by the guards, one a girl of her own age, the others two older women.
“They refused to do homage on their knees at the sacrifice,” a voice said near them. “The vile wretches! It seems they can never be stamped out.”
“No,” laughed another man.
“They swarm like lizards on a sunny wall. They say the Governor in Britain has done good service, and several of the reptiles have been caught and made an end of. The Emperor has vowed he will never stop till he has got rid of the whole brood, and those fellows in that caravan will be happy to carry out his intentions!”
A laugh greeted this sally, and, as if in reply, a loud roar from the captive lion sounded through the Forum.
Then the laugh was repeated, and Clœlia and Hyacintha, as they moved away, heard the cry of the people answering the roar of the lions.