"Would not the same motive have force with regard to Clemens' niece—my betrothed, Flavia, if only a fair excuse could be found for the destruction of one so young, so fair, and so innocent? Would not you and I be involved in the ruin, if she and Theodora had the misfortune of leaning to Christianity?"
"By Jupiter, it is impossible," broke in Sisinnius. "My wife is a model, a very Lucretia in devotion to her lord, and attention to her household duties. The slaves are cheerful and obedient; the laborers set to work, stewarded and paid; the clients met and satisfied without long interviews with me. How one so young and gentle can manage to get through so much business and make our home so peaceful and happy is a wonder to me! I bless the gods for the treasure they have given me in her! When tired with the labors of office in the forum or in the senate, I am cheered by her welcoming smile on my return home. It is impossible that one of her business habits, so wrapt up in her husband and in her home, could have time or folly enough to trouble her head about this crucified Jew. Perhaps Flavia, who is rich, unoccupied, and, like all young people, romantic, may be silly enough to lend an ear to his sorcery. If so, the sooner you make her a wife, and give her business to attend to, the better."
"Was not Clemens Domitilla a sensible man, Sisinnius, most attentive to the duties of his consular office, and least likely to be led astray by a mere idea?"
"Undoubtedly he was considered a cool councillor, a practical commander, and the ablest statesman of our time."
"And yet he yielded himself up a captive to this new religion; nay, yielded up his life sooner than admit that Jesus was not the true God. You are still incredulous? I hope you may be right, and my suspicions unfounded, for both our sakes and the sakes of those we love like our own lives. But meet me at the third watch of the night of the 8th, before the Kalends of January, and I will promise you the means of sifting this matter to the bottom."
"Agreed. Don't forget to drop in at our place on your return from the emperor's banquet. You will meet Clement; and perhaps some one else, whose name I will not tell you lest I might have to consider myself indebted for your visit to the attraction of its owner. Vale!"
Leaving Sisinnius to ponder over what he had heard, we will follow Aurelian, as he wends his way to the palace of Domitian at the foot of the Esquiline. Aurelian was a young noble of high rank and vast wealth. The waxen images in his paternal atrium represented many who had sat on the curule chair; and brought his family history, stamped with the badge of nobility, back beyond the days of the Fabii and Cincinnatus. His Etrurian estates alone brought him in a yearly revenue, which in modern times would be considered fabulous by those not aware of the immense wealth of even private Roman citizens under the republic and the empire. His dress made known his rank to those who met him as he passed along the streets. The toga of whitest woollen cloth, the latus clavus, or broad purple stripe on his uncinctured outer tunic, and the golden "C" riveted on the upper leather of his short boots, were worn only by senators. Many stood to admire his tall figure, stately bearing, and rich dress; and some uttered words of praise. One remark fell upon his ears with ominous sound:
"Truly a Roman in birth and in appearance, and well worthy to be the mate of that beautiful creature, the niece of the late consul Domitilla!"
"I saw the solitary raven flap his wings to-day on a tree in the vestibule of her palace."