“Ah! I understand....” She would have said more, but Polycharma rushed breathless into the room.
“I want Stephanus—a messenger from the amphitheatre....”
“Bid him come in,” said the Empress.
A young man handed a note to the steward. Stephanus turned pale as he read it, and he closed his eyes as if blinded by a flash.
“Go, it is well,” he stammered, and he crushed the letter in his hand.
“What has happened?” asked Domitia.
“Madam—the worst that can happen. The master of the ceremonies suspects—the trick is discovered.”
The Empress flushed crimson.
“Then you no longer have Quintus alone to save, but yourself too, Stephanus. Your life is at stake as well as his. Remember, consider the reward that awaits you! Let Rome perish if need be, but prevent that last, worst....”
“You command, and I obey.”