Lycoris signed to the slave, who had called the men to speak to her, and the servant took out of his robe two gold pieces, which he gave to them, while Lycoris wrote on her tablets:
“Lycoris to the illustrious Stephanus, greeting:
“With these lines you will receive your slave, Eurymachus, whom you have so long sought in vain. Keep him in safety, but do him no hurt, till you have taken counsel with me. Why, I will tell you when we meet. I would go to you at once if it were not so late, but I am afraid of missing the beginning of the games. I am writing in my litter—in the Cyprian Way, where your slave was taken. Expect me to dinner. Farewell!”
She gave the tablets to the man, and bid him take the greatest care of them. Once more she glanced at the pale and sadly-handsome face of the prisoner, and a strange feeling stole into her heart, a stirring of pity and of confusion. Most assuredly—so she thought—if, that evening, she had seen the victim’s face so close, she would have spoken a good word for him! Those grave, drooping lids veiled a wonderful glow in the eyes! and the mouth, with its expression of silent suffering and self-suppression, was a curious contradiction to that fiery glance! It was altogether a fascinating riddle for the Massilian’s mobile fancy. It was only a pity, that the problem should offer itself under so unattractive a guise! A young officer, a Roman knight, a senator’s son, with such a mysterious countenance, would have captivated her.—It was disappointing, by Cypris! positively vexatious! There was something bewitching in the man, as he raised his eyes to her face—she could well understand, that it must have had a great effect on a nature so impressionable as Quintus’.
The more she thought about it the more determined she became; she must find out how it all had come about. The man, Eurymachus, to be sure, looked by no means incapable of refusing point-blank to give her any information. But did not his fate depend upon her? His death was inevitable, and she alone could save him; so if she said: “Speak, tell me all, or I leave you to your fate, which will be certain death.”—Absurd! of course he would speak. And it must be a wonderful secret indeed, that could induce a youth like Quintus....
And then it suddenly struck her, that Eurymachus was not exposed to the vengeance of the steward only. As a Christian he was condemned by law—and she could not interfere with the course of the law. The chief point still remained open: she would examine him closely, if indeed Stephanus agreed to her request. And he must, positively must. Only the other day she had had him in leading-strings, but the child had suddenly outgrown her management. Since she had become so intimate with Parthenius—Parthenius! And might not this prime favorite of Caesar’s be of some service? If Parthenius spoke the word, Eurymachus would be set at liberty, in spite of any sentence passed upon him.
Lycoris passed her hand across her forehead; her head was burning. What strange ideas were these, that had taken possession of her? What a concatenation of foolish fancies and wild, confused ideas! She hardly perceived, that meanwhile the litter had reached the entrance to the Flavian Amphitheatre. Leaina had to rouse her from her dreamy mood.
“What is the matter with you, golden-haired maid?” she said in a low voice. “You seem depressed, and just now you were all in the mood for enjoyment! Tell me—the sight of that refractory fugitive has reminded you of the performance, which ended so unfortunately?—Oh! but your vanity as a hostess makes you too sensitive. Smile again, enchantress! Consider, half Rome is looking at us.”
“You are very right, child,” replied Lycoris. “Our part is to look beautiful, and we may leave grave thoughts to the vestal virgins.”
They got out of the litter, while one of the slaves obtained at an office on the right hand of the door-way, the tesserae, ivory tickets of admission,[132] on which the numbers of the seats were marked in Latin and in Greek. The two girls took their tickets and slowly made their way through the crush, to the places pointed out to them by an attendant in a gaily-colored holiday tunic.[133] They gave him a small gratuity in silver, dropped on to the cushions, which a slave had carried in for them,[134] and drew a deep breath, quite tired out with standing, climbing and struggling.