Stephania stretched out her white, bare arms that made him dizzy. He stood before her quivering with hands pressed tightly against his throbbing temples. One moment only.—Half risen from her seat, her eye on the gleaming spear-points in the thicket, she seemed to crouch towards him like some beautiful animal, then a half choked out cry broke from his lips, as their eyes looked hungrily into each others, and they were clasped in a tight embrace. Stephania's arms encircled Otto's neck and she pressed her lips on his in a long, fervid kiss, which thrilled the youth to the marrow of his bone.
At that moment a curtain of matted vines, which divided the vestibule of the little temple from its inner chambers was half pushed aside by a massive arm, wrapped with scales of linked mail. Standing behind them, Crescentius witnessed the embrace and withdrew without a word.
Was Stephania not overacting her part?
He waited for the signal.
No signal came.
Then a terrible revelation burst upon the Senator's mind.
Johannes Crescentius had lost the love of his wife.
After a time the spear-points disappeared.
The Senator of Rome saw his own danger and the forces arrayed against him. He was no longer dealing with statecraft. The weapon had been turned. With a smothered outcry of anguish he slowly retraced his steps.
Neither had seen the silent witness of their embrace.