'Stay, wretch!' cried Varro.

'I will not. A cauldron of lies! A sink of deception! A tiger whelp! A soul drowning in iniquity, destined to wander in darkness for ages on ages!'

'Stop--stop thy murderous tongue! It must be, as thou sayest, some other--not Nika!'

'No, no. Thou shalt not stay me; I will go on. It--is--thy--wife! She is beautiful without, but within I see her as I say.'

'Poor thing! thou art deceived. Thou art delirious; I pity thee, and will get physician's aid for thee. I go now. Here is some gold. Rest thyself. Thine is a case demanding pity.'

'I take not your gold; I want not your pity. I am sane. Would I had been born a drivelling idiot, and remained so to this present!'

'But surely, woman, thou canst not be other than mad to say such horrible things about Nika, my wife, my greatest treasure!'

'I am not mad, n.o.ble man; but speak the truth, and speak it plainly. Thy wife deceives thee. She is vile!'

'Curse your gray locks! I will smite you where you stand if you do not retract those blackened lies!'

'Listen, Proconsul: I will not withdraw what I have said, but will further tear the veil from off thy deluded eyes. I have known her long, and watched her well--the reason, mine. I have followed in the groove of her life; but, to come to the present, thou hast been from Ephesus, leaving thy beautiful Nika behind--leaving thy soul's happiness with her. How has she repaid thee? How! By giving her love to----'

'Silence, thou reptile of h.e.l.l!' And he sprang forward, clutching the woman by the throat.

Her face grew dark and her eyes started; her mouth twitched convulsively, as if she essayed to speak.

Maddened with fury, Varro still clutched her with the grip of death, holding her out at arms' length, glaring at her like a tiger with its prey.

With one supreme effort the woman gathered together her dying strength sufficiently to enable her to thrust her hand into the folds of her dress and draw forth a tablet and hold it out towards him.

Instinctively he relaxed his grip, and the witch cried out:

'Read! Read!'

He grasped the tablet, opened it, and saw the signature of Nika.

Endora fell, her face lying on the stony floor. He heeded her not, but, with a face as death-like as that of the witch, glanced down the lines of the tablet.

Then, with a moan such as is heard when the weary storm tells its sad tale through the cypress-trees, he sat down and buried his face in his hands.

For some time he remained in the same position, until a sigh came from the prostrate woman.

He arose and went towards her, saying:

'Whatever may be thy sins, in this I am the sinner for bruising thee.'

He gave her wine, damped her furrowed, fevered brow, raised her from the floor, and watched by her until she had fully regained consciousness.

She murmured:

'I do not blame thee. Were I a man, I would have done likewise. Endora pities thee. Thou hast wedded a snake, and she has stung thee. What wilt thou do?'

'Charge her.'

'And should she deny?'

'She shall be tried by the rites of the Virgin Cave of Hecate.'

He arose, and, throwing his mantle around him, strode out into the night down the hillside to his home.

On his arrival, Nika met him with honeyed words and sweetest smiles, but he pa.s.sed her coldly, and went to his chamber--not to sleep. The room seemed filled with choking air. He opened the window and let in a cooling draught, and the moonlight, faint and low, stole softly across the floor.

For a moment he rested, buried in thought, scarcely knowing what to do.

His face betrayed great pa.s.sion. He arose, and paced the room until the day dawned over the sea, when he fell upon a couch, and pa.s.sed into a dreamy sleep.

When the morning had fully come, he went out and breathed the cool virgin air, but soon returned.

His wife met him again with all the ease that duplicity can command.

'And where hast thou been, Varro? Why so cold yesternight to thy loving wife?'

'Nika, thou art false, false! What hast thou been doing whilst I journeyed to Rome?'

'What dost thou mean?'

'Mean! Just what I say. I am not a man to bandy words. Thou art unfaithful to me. Dost thou deny it?'

'I do. I swear by Jove I am guiltless! I have traducers, and they lie!'

'Knowest thou this writing, Nika?' And, drawing the tablet from his bosom, he said: 'Dost thou recognise this?'

For a moment, and just a moment only, as a bird flies past and hides the moon, her face a.s.sumed an ashen hue, but a crimson blush rushed in and retired, leaving sufficient colour to make her beauty more enchanting.

Then, throwing her proud head back on her shoulders, she laughed, saying:

'Dear old jealous husband! I can explain all, I see. I understand what has ruffled your pretty plumage. I remember the other night writing on that tablet--a great joke'--and again she laughed out merrily.

'I will tell thee, Varro. For want of something to do, I sat down and read the love poems by Andros. Yes, Varro. Art thou listening? Well, what do you think? A sudden idea came into my mind to try if I could write an epistle to an imaginary lover. So I did, just for amus.e.m.e.nt, Varro. I laid the tablet in my lap and fell asleep, and lo! when I awoke it was gone; and, strangely enough, you, Varro, bring it to me. This is all, dear. Of course, thou believest me?'

'No, I believe it not. Thou shalt no longer be wife of mine until thou provest thyself. This affair is not a secret in Ephesus, and men of Ionia and n.o.bles of Rome shall never point the finger of scorn at Varro.

If thou art true, fear not; if false, then take thy reward.'

'What meanest thou, husband? Thou art not serious? How can I prove other than by my word?'

'Thou forgettest there is a tribunal for such offences.'

'True. Tell me.'

'The Virgin Cave of Hecate.'

'The cave! Saronia!' shrieked Nika, and fell to the floor a helpless form.