When she had gone, Nika spoke:
'Now seest thou, mother, what she is: she dares even thee! What canst thou do but punish? A fine episode—a Sidonian slave defies her mistress, a Roman matron. Speak quickly; I am burning to hear what thou thinkest. Speak, great Venusta, wife of Lucius!'
'Silence, Nika! It is not becoming thou shouldst use thy satire even in playfulness to such an one as I.'
'Thou knowest my tongue from veriest childhood was ever the same. It is my dagger. It is better than thy jewelled blade of steel. I can wound the heart without shedding one drop of blood. Come, mother, forgive me, and say what shall be done to punish Saronia.'
'She must be tortured until she speaks the truth.'
'But if she should die, we should never know.'
'True! That is a condition we cannot alter.'
'Listen. Give me a day or two and let me try what I may do with guile.'
'Let it be so, Nika. But see I lose not dignity. Make her know it is through thy intercession I relent. Give her two short periods of the sun, and charm with thy music from her that which Venusta cannot wrench by threatenings. If thou canst, girl; but, for my own part, I should as surely expect a fisher to take fish by casting net on a barren rock as that thou wilt be successful with thine undertaking.'