''Tis a lie!' spoke out the Greek.
'Perhaps so,' replied Varro; 'but circumstances are against her. After her arrest, in her room was found a pair of sandals, stained underneath with human blood.'
'Merciful God!' exclaimed Chios.
'Listen further. It is well known that on the fateful night she went to the Sacred Grove, close to the river Cayster, where the priest was found. Do not be jealous, good fellow. The prying eyes of an attendant priestess reports that a man supposed to be her lover was seen in the company of this beautiful woman, even in the company of Saronia, the haughty Saronia, priestess of Diana! Now, Chios, looking at such evidences, the conclusion drawn is that, afraid of being exposed by the priest, who also must have seen her, she or her lover slew him, and Saronia, conscience-stricken, knowing such an act could never be forgiven by her Lady Saviour, left her faith, and, with cunning hypocrisy, pretends the Christian, thinking perhaps she may gain sympathy or help from that hated crew. Now, Chios, does this satisfy thee?'
'No,' said he; 'it is all untrue. Christian she may be; murderess—never!'
'Then thou dost still believe in her?'
'Yes; to shed the last drop of my life's blood, and may Heaven grant me such an opportunity!'
'Nonsense—nonsense, Chios! Too long hast thou been infatuated by this mysterious being. Methought for some time past no good would come to thee by such a passion, and let me warn thee ere too late. Be careful, or thou wilt be netted in this sad event. Lie low, my friend, and let her meet her fate. Thou canst do no good, and may empty on thy head unmeasured ills.'
'No, Varro. Were those looming ills more numerous than the hairs which grow upon my aching head I would meet them, embrace them, to save Saronia one pang of grief or pain. Nevertheless, I thank thee for thy kindly counsel, but the mind of the Greek is made up. If she suffer, I suffer with her. If she die, Chios dies. Not as the coward dies—I will die trying to save her life. No threats, no danger, no death will stop me. I am fixed to this purpose. I know she is as pure as heaven, and honoured from thence. Were Chios half so holy he would consider himself blessed.
'Roman, thou hast no good blood for her, wouldst not move a finger to protect her; but I, with an unshaken belief in her goodness, will do my best. Good-bye, noble Proconsul. Saronia may yet appeal in Rome!'