will be the last day I stop in your house."

"Hear her!" said the centurion, "and where do you propose to travel to?
The desert is wide and there is room and to spare to starve in it, and
for your bones to bleach there. How grieved your lovers would be--for
their sakes I will take care before drowning the dog to lock in its
mistress."

"Only try to touch me," screamed Sirona beside herself, and springing to
the window. "If you lay a finger on me, I will call for help, and
Dorothea and her husband will protect me against you."

"Hardly," answered Phoebicius drily. "It would suit you no doubt to find
yourself under the same roof as that great boy who brings you colored
glass, and throws roses into your window, and perhaps has strewed the
road with them by which he found his way to you to-day. But there are
nevertheless laws which protect the Roman citizen from criminals and
impudent seducers. You were always a great deal too much in the house
over there, and you have exchanged your games with the little screaming
beggars for one with the grownup child, the rose-thrower-the fop, who,
for your sake, and not to be recognized, covers up his purple coat with a
sheepskin! Do you think, you can teach me anything about lovesick night-
wanderers and women?

"I see through it all! Not one step do you set henceforth across Petrus'
threshold. There is the open window--scream--scream as loud as you will,
and let all the people know of your disgrace. I have the greatest mind
to carry this sheepskin to the judge, the first thing in the morning. I
shall go now, and set the room behind the kitchen in order for you; there
is no window there through which men in sheepskin can get in to my house.