"Nothing of that kind happened. A Roman woman, who wished to rescue her, exchanged garments with her in the prison; and when this plan was baffled, she concealed a dagger in Sophronia's girdle and the girl killed herself before any man's hand touched her."
Tears streamed from the young soldier's eyes; his sword fell from his hand.
"Ye gods, bless that Roman woman for the sake of the dagger. Do you not know who it was?"
"She does not wish you to be told."
Manlius drew a long breath, as if relieved from a heavy burden.
"I thank you for these tidings."
There was something terrible in this gratitude.
"The danger is not yet over," Glyceria began again. "Carinus, whose pallid face was sprinkled with the martyr's blood, sank back upon his couch half fainting, and through his trembling soul flashed the thought: If a woman could die in this way, how will her father or her promised husband—kill! No one knew Sophronia; but my father's presence in Rome has already attracted attention, and although he makes no public search, people are beginning to suspect that the dead girl was his daughter. You will both be summoned before Carinus to-morrow; he will ask if you can recognise a dead woman who was found murdered in the Christians' prison, and Sophronia will be shown to you. Be hard-hearted at that moment, Manlius; let no tears fill your eyes when you behold this corpse. Say that you do not know it, wear an indifferent face; for if you betray yourself, you will lose your head."
"I am to wear an indifferent face," said Manlius, with dilated eyes, "and not recognise her when she lies dead before me? I am to say that I have never seen her?"
"Do you imagine that Carinus would suffer a man to live whose promised wife had killed herself on the Cæsar's account?"