"A true type of glory, and of its fate!" murmured Arbaces to himself; and his eye, glancing around the amphitheatre, betrayed so much of disdain and scorn that whoever encountered it felt his breath suddenly arrested, and his emotions frozen into one sensation of abasement and of awe.
Again rich perfumes were wafted around the theatre; the attendants sprinkled fresh sand over the arena.
"Bring forth the lion and Glaucus the Athenian," said the ædile.
And a deep and breathless hush of overwrought interest and intense (yet strange to say not unpleasing) terror lay like a mighty and awful dream over the assembly.
The door swung gratingly back--the gleam of spears shot along the wall.
"Glaucus the Athenian, thy time has come," said a loud and clear voice; "the lion awaits thee."
"I am ready," said the Athenian. "Brother and co-mate, one last embrace! Bless me--and farewell!"
The Christian opened his arms; he clasped the young heathen to his breast; he kissed his forehead and cheek; he sobbed aloud; his tears flowed fast and hot over the features of his new friend.
"Oh! could I have converted thee, I had not wept. Oh that I might say to thee, 'We two shall sup this night in Paradise!'"