The Decurio stroked the fair head of the lovely suppliant.
"Poor child!" he replied gently, "you have nothing to fear; nobody will hurt you now."
"You have saved me from these fearful people—now save me from yourself!"
"You have nothing to fear from me," replied the Dacian proudly; "I fight for liberty alone, and you may rest as securely within my threshold as on the steps of the altar. When I am absent you need have no anxiety, for these walls are impregnable; and if any one should dare offend you by the slightest look, that moment shall be the last of his mortal career. And when I am at home you have nothing to fear, for woman's image never dwelt within my heart. Accept my poor couch, and may your rest be sweet!—Imre Bardy slept on it last night."
"Imre!" exclaimed the girl, starting. "You have seen him, then?—oh! where is he?"
The Decurio hesitated. "He should not have delayed so long," he murmured, pressing his hand against his brow; "all would have been otherwise."
"Oh! let me go to him, if you know where he is."
"I do not know; but I am certain that he will come here if he is alive—indeed, he must come."
"Why do you think that?"
"Because he will seek you."