It was a pretty little circle, Fausta, as the eye need behold; and gathered together here by how strange circumstances! The very sun of peace and joy seemed breaking from the countenance of Isaac. He caressed first one and then another, nor did he know how to leave off kissing and praising them.

When we had thus sat, and made ourselves known all around to each other, Julia said to Isaac, 'that she should hope often to see him and them in the same way; but however often it might be, and at whatever other times, she begged, that annually, on the Ides of January, she with Piso might be admitted to his house and board, to keep with them all a feast of grateful recollection. Whatever it is that makes the present hour so happy to us all, we owe, Isaac, to you.'

'Lady! to the providence of the God of Abraham!'

'In you, Isaac, I behold his providence.'

'Lady, it shall be as you say—on the Ides of January, will we, as the years go round, call up to our minds these dark and bloody times, and give thanks for the great redemption. Were Probus but with you, and to be with you, Piso, your cup were full. And he had been here, but for the voice of one, who just as the third lion had been uncaged, fixed again the wavering mind of Aurelian, who then, madman-like, set on him that forest-full of beasts. At that moment, I found it, Piso, discreetest to depart.'

'And was your hand in that too, Isaac? Were those lions of your training? and that knave's lies of your telling?'

'Verily thou mayest say so.'

'But was that the part of a Jew?'

'No,' said Julia, 'it was only the part of Isaac.'

'Probus,' said Isaac, 'was the friend of Piso and Julia, and therefore he was mine. If now you ask how I love you so, I can only say, I do not know. We are riddles to ourselves. When I first saw thee, Piso, I fancied thee, and the fancy hath held till now. Now, where love is, there is power—high as heaven, deep as hell. Where there is the will, the arm is strong and the wits clear. Mountains of difficulty and seas of danger sink into mole-hills and shallow pools. Besides, Piso, there is no virtue in Rome but gold will buy it, and, as thou knowest, in that I am not wanting. Any slave like Curio, or he of the Flavian, may be had for a basket-full of oboli. With these two clues, thou canst thread the labyrinth.'