Paula's heart thrilled with indignation, grief and pity. He--he whom she
had only yesterday held to be the epitome of every manly perfection--
Orion, was guilty of so foul a deed! He, of whose unflinching, dauntless
courage she had heard so much, had fled like a coward, and had left the
victim to her fate--twice a victim to him!

But something must be done besides lamenting and raging, and wondering
how in one human soul there could be room for so much that was noble and
fine with so much that was shameful and cruel. She must save the girl,
she must seek help, for Mandane's bosom still faintly rose and fell under
Paula's tremulous fingers.

The freedman's brave heart would not allow him to fly to leave her with
the injured girl; he flung his shoes on the floor, raised the senseless
form, and propped it against one of the columns that stood round the
hall. It was not till his mistress had repeated her orders that he
hurried away. Paula watched him depart; as soon as she heard the heavy
door of the atrium close upon him, heedless of her own suspicious-looking
position, she shouted for help, so loudly that her cries rang through the
nocturnal silence of the house, and in a few minutes, from this side and
that, a slave, a maid, a clerk, a cook, a watchman, came hurrying in.

Foremost of all--so soon indeed that he must have been on his way when he
heard her cry--came Orion. He wore a light night-dress, intended, so she
said to herself, to give the wretch the appearance of having sprung out
of bed. But was this indeed he? Was this man with a flushed face,
staring eyes, disordered hair and hoarse voice, that favorite of fortune
whose happy nature, easy demeanor, sunny gaze and enchanting song had
bewitched her soul? His hand shook as he came close to her and the
injured slave; and how forced and embarrassed was his enquiry as to what