whole floor was empty. To and from these the little human figures were
hurrying, and from these too proceeded the thuds and panting and the
frequent groans that I had heard outside.

While I stood and gazed, Harry stepped forward into the arena.
"This also?" I whispered.

He nodded, and led the way over the copper floor, where the water ran
high as our ankles and again was drained off, until little dry spaces
grew like maps upon the surface, and in ten seconds were flooded again.
He led me straight to the cages, and I saw that while the roof and three
sides of these were of sheet iron, the fourth side, which faced the
throne, lay open. And I saw--in the first cage, a man scourged with
rods; in the second, a body twisted on the rack; in the third, a woman
with a starving babe, and a fellow that held food to them and withdrew
it quickly (the torturers wore masks on their faces, and whenever blood
flowed some threw handfuls of sawdust, and blood and sawdust together
were carried off by the running water); in the fourth cage, a man tied,
naked and helpless, whom a masked torturer pelted with discs of gold,
heavy and keen-edged; in the fifth a brasier with irons heating, and a
girl's body crouched in a corner--

"I will see no more!" I cried, and turned towards the great purple
canopy. High over it the sun broke yellow on the climbing tiers of
seats. "Harry! someone is watching behind those curtains! Is it--HE?"

Harry bent his head.

"But this is all that I believed! This is Nero, and ten times worse
than Nero! Why did you bring me here?" I flung out my hand towards the