"Even the one who is lying dead at this moment?" Manlius started back, his breath failed, his face grew corpselike in its pallor. He strove to pronounce Sophronia's name, but his lips would not form the word, and staggering back, he was obliged to lean against a pillar. Glyceria went toward him, her staring eyes fixed upon his face as if she wished to read his inmost soul. "Manlius Sinister!" she said calmly. "My dreams have told me that you will kill me, and I know that the hand beneath your chlamys is clutching your sword-hilt. That will be no grief to me. My anguish is that you see in me your promised wife's murderess." Manlius sighed heavily, and a secret shudder shook his whole frame. In a voice that seemed to come from the grave, he asked: "How was she killed? Was she torn by wild beasts? Or did greedy flames devour her tender body? Speak, Hetaera. Tell me clearly and minutely how she was tortured to death. I _will_ hear." "She was not dragged to the scenes of torture, but to Carinus' orgies." "Ah!" shrieked Manlius in unutterable fury, covering his face. Then, removing his hands, he said quietly: "Go on; omit nothing. Describe step by step the outrage, and in what way my idol was dragged through the mire. Speak!" "Nothing of that kind happened. A Roman woman, who wished to rescue her, exchanged garments with her in the prison; and when this plan was baffled, she concealed a dagger in Sophronia's girdle and the girl killed herself before any man's hand touched her." Tears streamed from the young soldier's eyes; his sword fell from his hand. "Ye gods, bless that Roman woman for the sake of the dagger. Do you not know who it was?" "She does not wish you to be told." Manlius drew a long breath, as if relieved from a heavy burden. "I thank you for these tidings." There was something terrible in this gratitude. "The danger is not yet over," Glyceria began again. "Carinus, whose pallid face was sprinkled with the martyr's blood, sank back upon his couch half fainting, and through his trembling soul flashed the thought: If a woman could die in this way, how will her father or her promised husband--kill! No one knew Sophronia; but my father's presence in Rome has already attracted attention, and although he makes no public search, people are beginning to suspect that the dead girl was his daughter. You will both be summoned before Carinus to-morrow; he will ask if you can recognise a dead woman who was found murdered in the Christians' prison, and Sophronia will be shown to you. Be hard-hearted at that moment, Manlius; let no tears fill your eyes when you behold this corpse. Say that you do not know it, wear an indifferent face; for if you betray yourself, you will lose your head." "I am to wear an indifferent face," said Manlius, with dilated eyes, "and not recognise her when she lies dead before me? I am to say that I have never seen her?"