"What do I get as a reward for this knowledge which you so much desire?"

The priest rose to his full height. His eyes blazed with anger and he raised his arm to strike Alyrus, who did not cringe but faced him boldly, though his dark cheeks grew livid.

An aged priest on the superior's right, laid a trembling hand on his arm.

"Is it wise?" he asked, gently. "If thou frightenest the slave, he will not give thee correct information."

"Thou art late to-night, father," said Lidia, reaching up her hardened little hands to caress affectionately his weatherworn cheek. "I was just going to bed."

"I was late because I was watching _him_," Lucius nodded his head toward the door.

"Who? the master? Surely thou wouldst not."

"Be not so hasty, Lidia. It was not the master, but Alyrus."

"Oh! he is worth watching," responded wise and observant Lidia.

She was little thing, in spite of her twenty years, with a small face, old in anxiety, but sparkling with vivacity. Lucius had said sometimes that her eyes talked, they varied so with her different moods. She petted and humored her father in an amusingly maternal way, and carried the cares of his poor home in her heart.

"I believe it. To-night, he has been for an hour at the temple in the Forum, and it bodes little good. What has he to do with the priests of Jupiter? I trust not one of them, not one. It means some evil to this dwelling."

Lidia's eyes grew anxious.

"I fear," she began then paused. She had learned that while her father was apt in tracing information, he was not to be relied on in moments when delicate problems were to be solved. Her own brain was much more clear. "I will watch," she added. "Go home now, dear father and get thy rest, for our G.o.d is ever near us. No harm can really destroy us.

It can only touch our bodies, not our souls, as the Great Teacher saith."

"And thou, Lidia," the shepherd drew her close to him and turned the determined little face so that he could see her. "Art thou happy here?

Remember thou art no slave, though thou hast chosen to be a menial.

Thy father wears no iron ring of bondage around his neck. He is a free man."

"I wash the kettles clean," replied Lidia, laughing, while her expressive eyes danced, "and that is something. What said our Teacher?

He who does the meanest work faithfully and well, has the Lord Christ by his side. I am happy. And though I am only a kitchen maid, I can see sometimes sweet Lady Virgilia whom I love. She is in danger, father. Perhaps--perhaps, the little unknown maid in the kitchen may save her. Who knows?"

"As thou wilt, child, as thou wilt. But it is lonely without thee in the cave on the Campagna."

He started on his long walk homeward and Lidia watched his strange, wild-looking figure until it was out of sight.

"Our G.o.d protect thee," she said in her heart and going inside, closed and barred the door.

Before she went to bed she sought out a woman called _The Old One_.

What her real name was, or whence she had come, even Aurelius himself did not know. She had come into his possession as a legacy from his father, who had said: "Guard and care for her well, for she has view of the future beyond that of human kind." Now, she was very aged, her form was bowed and her face covered with tiny wrinkles. Some said that she had pa.s.sed the century limits; but no one knew, and her secrets were buried in her own heart.

The Old One was reputed to be very wise. Her expression was almost queenly in its dignity, and placid and kindly.

To her, Lidia poured out the news brought her by Lucius, adding to these some things that her father did not know, which bore light upon the designs of Alyrus and his daughter, Sahira.

The Old One listened, quietly. Then she laid her withered hand on Lidia's head, very gently.

"Lie down and sleep, my child, and be at peace. The Lord is with thee.

What the future holds we fear not."

There were three Christians in the servants' quarters of the lawyer's home, one was Alexis, the Greek, one was Lidia, the scullery-maid. And the third was the Old One, whose age no man knew, or whence she came.

V.

THE OLD ONE SPEAKS.

Aurelius, the lawyer, found his wife crying when he returned from business a fortnight later. It was one of those rainy days, coming early in October, when it seems as though the skies opened to let down streams of water, washing trees and bushes, drenching the heavy dust, which, during a long summer drouth had acc.u.mulated so much in the cracks of the stones on the streets, on the roofs and ledges of the houses and on the leaves of vines and flowers that even the thunder-storm on that night when Alyrus made his visit to the temple had not had force enough to remove it.

It was a desolate day. In Rome when it rains the whole aspect changes, it becomes dreary and depressing. Even people are affected by the gloom, nerves are set on edge, and Aurelius, having had a trying morning, was a little irritated to find his wife in this condition.

Remembering her weakness, he sat down beside her, took her cold hand in his and said, gently: "What is the matter, dear one? What has happened to annoy thee?"

"It is that miserable sect of Christians. I cannot bear them. Here is thy son, Martius, acting the fool, stubborn, wilful, and now Virgilia must show the same traits. It is past endurance. Something must be done to break this charm whatever it is, that controls them so. I wish that every Christian in the land would be destroyed by Jupiter. He can do it if he wishes."

The lawyer's face grew stern. One of his troubles that morning had been that everlasting affair of the Lady Octavia, who insisted on freeing her slaves, and by this had succeeded in involving herself in a law-suit which threatened disaster, because of a prior claim to a certain slave who was very valuable.

"What has Virgilia done?" he asked, and his tone boded no good to his daughter.

"She has refused," sobbed his wife, "refused to make the garlands for the G.o.ds or offer them the customary libations. Says that she cannot; it is contrary to the law of Christ--as if that mattered! Her disobedience is bad enough in itself, but the worst for us are the punishment and misfortunes which are certain to come upon us if the G.o.ds are not placated."

Aurelius grew pale. This was to him, in spite of his general unbelief, a real difficulty. Who knew what might happen?

"Dost thou mean that the G.o.ds have been neglected all the day? It must be attended to at once!"

He sprang up, but Claudia held his hand tight in hers.

"It has been attended to. Sahira wove the garlands, a slave, not my own daughter. The G.o.ds will be wrathful, of course, but perhaps we can placate them by costly offerings of gold and spices at the temple. It is of Virgilia that I would speak. What is to be done with such an undutiful child? She must be married, or sent away to some lonely place. Perhaps marriage would be better. Then her husband would control her. The Senator Adrian Soderus has asked for her hand, but thou didst send him away. Recall him."

"He is seventy years old and as ugly as night. While Virgilia is so young and sweet."

"So stubborn and rebellious. He is old, but very rich. She will forget this foolishness when she is surrounded by such luxury as he can give her. Send for him."

"Where is Virgilia now?"

"In her room, where I sent her to think over her sins and repent."

Aurelius thought of the small, dark cubiculum where his daughter sat alone on this day when the floods descended, and his heart warmed to the culprit.

"I will talk with Virgilia," he said, rising.

"And thou wilt send for the Senator?"

"We shall see."