Euphorbus, stern and pale, came into his office.

"Now for your plan," said he to Beltrezzor. "It is now or never."

My uncle drew from the ample folds of his robe a package, which he laid on a table.

"Now," said he, "attention! Mary and I are to change places. She is to come out with you, disguised as her uncle. I am to remain in the dungeon, disguised as Mary."

Euphorbus staggered back with protruded eyes.

"And to be thrown to the lion yourself?"

"It is the only way," said the old man, slowly and meekly.

Euphorbus fell upon his neck and kissed his cheek:

"I have heard that heroes were sometimes elevated into G.o.ds; but you are the only man of whom I could believe it."

"You see," continued Beltrezzor, "here is a mask of the finest parchment, painted in imitation of Mary's face, with long beautiful golden hair attached to the headpiece."

"It is indeed an astonishing likeness. The face is perfect. And where is the mask in imitation of yours?"

He untied a string behind his neck, and drew off his hair and beard at once. He was a beardless bald old man. He wore his mask.

"Any one wearing this would be mistaken for me. There was one difficulty about the eyes. We got over that by wearing the green shade. There was another about the nose and mouth. She must hold her handkerchief to her face, as is natural in grief. The illusion will be complete.

"Here are two flat pieces of cork," he continued, "to be put into my sandals, which are peculiarly constructed so as to conceal them. That will add an inch to Mary's height. Then you see my turban is so arranged that a little traction here elevates it an inch more. That will make it right, for she is nearly as tall as I am. The robes you know we can simply exchange."

The old man dwelt upon these details until he convinced Euphorbus that the singular exchange was perfectly feasible.

The voice of Simon Magus was now heard in the courtyard. He had just looked into Mary's window to see that his victim had not escaped. He threw the guard some money. He then spoke to three men who stood before him with long poles in their hands, each pole having an iron hook at the end of it.

He spoke so loud that Mary and every one heard him:

"You will stand inside the iron railing and watch the lion's attack. So long as he eats the neck and shoulders or the lower half of the body, let him alone. When he begins upon the chest, drag the body away from him with your hooks. Remember! I want the woman's heart uninjured. If you cannot do it, I will give the signal for the keepers to throw in the murderer Trebonius. That will save my prize and satisfy the people."

After this horrible speech he entered the amphitheatre by a private way and resumed his seat near the gorgeous chair of Lelius.

"The coast is clear," said Euphorbus. "Now is our time."

They entered the courtyard. Euphorbus gave the guards double money.

"Our poor old friend," said he, "is overwhelmed with grief to-day. He cannot speak. It is his last visit."

They pa.s.sed into the dungeon. Mary was crouching in one corner, white as a corpse. She sprang to her uncle's arms. She could not speak; she could not weep. Terror had paralyzed the fountains of thought and sorrow.

"I have come to save you, my child," said the old man, "Courage! and you will be free in ten minutes. Lazarus is in the street waiting for you.

Martha is on a beautiful ship waiting for you. In one hour you will be on the blue sea sailing away from this awful city."

Mary stared at him in wild surprise.

"Free? Lazarus waiting! and Martha?"

The transition from total despair to hope was too much for her weak nerves. She swooned.

The old man knelt by her side, kissing her hands and chafing her temples while the great tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Too bad! too bad!" said Euphorbus, "when time is so precious"-and he busied himself in forcing a stimulus into her mouth.

She revived presently and sat up.

"You say I may be saved, uncle. Now tell me how. I am calm and can comprehend you perfectly."

Beltrezzor proceeded to explain everything as he had done to Euphorbus.

She heard him patiently, and then said in a quiet tone:

"And, poor good man! do you think I will permit you to be eaten by the lion in my place? Oh no, that is impossible. Think of some other plan."

"There is no other way. I shall not be eaten by the lion."

"Why not?"

"Because I am not a Christian. You are condemned for heresy. I am a Gentile."

"But they will kill you for contriving my escape, and this good keeper also."

"Oh no! That offence is not punishable with death. They will fine me heavily, but I am rich and can pay. The keeper will escape with you and protect you."

After much persuasion and argument on one side and many doubts and questionings on the other, Mary's scruples were at last overcome, and the transformation in both parties effected so adroitly that detection seemed impossible.

Mary suddenly turned her earnest eyes on Beltrezzor's face.

"Uncle, if you deceive me in this matter, it will kill me."

"Courage! my sweet girl," said the old man, smiling-"come what may. I shall rest better to-night than I did last night; and the sun will shine for me more beautifully to-morrow than it has to-day."

"Come, come," said Euphorbus, "we must be going."

Oh the anguish of that parting!

Mary put the green shade over her eyes and the handkerchief to her mouth and walked slowly but bravely out with the keeper. The guard let them pa.s.s. One fellow looked closely after them, and then stepped to the window and looked in. Mary with her golden tresses falling over her shoulders was kneeling in prayer!

Who can imagine the thoughts of that brave old man, as he knelt in the woman's dress, with the lion's growl in his ear! How eagerly he listened!

How freely he breathed when he heard no interruption in the courtyard; no outcry; no alarm. They are safe! How he lifted his heart to heaven!

Did he spend that last hour in prayer? To what G.o.d did he pray? What faith did he offer up as his claim to salvation? What matters it? Had he not kept the commandments of G.o.d?

Was not his soul free from irreverence and profanity and theft and murder and adultery and perjury and uncharitableness? Did he not love his neighbor more than himself?

This disciple of Zoroaster, was he not a child of G.o.d?