vain; for the sake of a ruthless tyrant's foul desire she would have been
guilty of the basest breach of faith, have poisoned her lover's heart and
soul, and have wrecked his whole future life as well as her own. Away,
then, with foolish doubts! Pythagoras was wise in warning her against
torturing her heart. The die was cast. She and Caracalla must go on
divergent roads, Her duty now was to fight for her own happiness against
any who threatened it, and, above all, against the tyrant who had
compelled her, innocent as she was, to hide like a criminal.

She was full of righteous wrath against the sanguinary persecutor, and
holding her head high she went back into her sleeping-room to finish
dressing. She moved more quickly than usual, for the bookrolls which
Euryale had laid by her bed while she was still asleep attracted her eye
with a suggestion of promise. Eager to know what their contents were,
she took them up, drew a stool to the window, and tried to read.

But many voices came up to her from outside, and when she looked down
into the road she saw troops of youths crowding into the stadium. What
fine fellows they were, as they marched on, talking and singing; and she
said to herself that Diodoros and Alexander were taller even than most of
these, and would have been handsome among the handsomest! She amused
herself for some time with watching them; but when the last man had
entered the stadium, and they had formed in companies, she again took up
the rolls.

One contained the gospel of Matthew and the other that of Luke.

The first, beginning with the genealogy, gave her a string of strange,
barbarous names which did not attract her; so she took up the roll of
Luke, and his simple narrative style at once charmed her. There were