Euphorbus was deeply moved.
“You ask an impossibility! Oh that I could—”
“Will you if you can?” exclaimed the old man, earnestly seizing him by the hand.
“Certainly I will—”
“It is all I ask!” said Beltrezzor. “Leave it to me. Let me into your private room at three o’clock and I will explain everything to you. If you are not satisfied you can then refuse.”
“You speak mysteries,” said the Gaul; “but you yourself are a mystery. Come, as you promise. My life is not much, and I am willing to risk it for you and your little Mary as you call her.”
My uncle had been twice every day to visit his niece. The more he saw of her helplessness, her purity, her suffering and her terror, the more she entwined herself about his heart, and the more resolutely did he labor to achieve her deliverance. She clung to him so tenderly, and as the fatal hour approached her fear of the lion became so heartrending, that the old man could hardly tear himself from her embraces.
The Roman guard, accustomed to him, received his coins smilingly and scarcely noticed his coming out. For three days before the Sabbath he had worn a green shade over his eyes.
“I got dust in them,” said he to the soldiers, “and an old man’s eyes are weak.”
Three o’clock, Sabbath, arrived. Beltrezzor was admitted into the private room of the keeper. The amphitheatre was crowded, and crowds were still pressing on the outside for admission. The games and combats were going on, to the great delight of the immense audience, for they occasionally shook the building with shouts of laughter and thunders of applause. The huge lion, irritated by these noises and raging with [pg 337]hunger, sent up roar after roar, which appalled the stoutest hearts among the spectators.