Julia answered not. 'I require thee, Christian, to renounce Christ!' Still Julia made no reply. 'Know you not, woman, I have power to force from thee that, which thou wilt not say willingly?' 'Thou hast no such power, Priest. Thou wert else God.' 'Thy tender frame cannot endure the torture of those engines. It were better spared such suffering.' 'I would gladly be spared that suffering,' said Julia; 'but not at the expense of truth.' 'Think not that I will relent. Those irons shall rack and rend thee in every bone and joint, except thou dost renounce that foul impostor, whose curse now lies heavy upon Rome and the world.' 'Weary me not, Priest, with vain importunity. I am a Christian, and a Christian will I die.' 'Prepare then the rack!' cried Fronto, his passions rising; 'that is the medicine for obstinacy such as this. Now bind her to it.' Hearing that, I wildly exclaimed, 'Priest! thou dar'st not do it for thy life! Touch but the hair of her head, and thy life shall answer it. Aurelian's word is pledged, and thou dar'st not break it.' 'Aurelian is far enough from here,' replied the priest. 'But were he where I am, thou wouldst see the same game. I am Aurelian now.' 'Is this then thy commission, had from Aurelian?' 'That matters not, young Piso. 'Tis enough for thee to know that Fronto rules in Rome. No more! Hold now thy peace! Where an Empress has sued in vain, there is no room for words from thee. Slaves! bind her, I say! To the rack with her!' At that I sprang madly forward, thinking only of her rescue from those murderous fangs, but was at the same instant drawn violently back both by my chains and the arms of those who guarded me. The tormentors descended from their engines to fulfil the commands of Fronto, and, laying hold of Julia, bore her, without an opposing word, or look, or motion, toward their instruments of death. And they were already binding her limbs to the accursed wheels, while Fronto and Varus both drew nigh to gloat over her agonies, when a distant sound, as of the ocean lashed by winds, broke upon the ears of all within that hell. Even the tormentors paused in their work, and looked at each other and at Fronto, as if asking what it should mean. The silence of death fell upon the crowd--every ear strained to catch the still growing sound and interpret it. ''Tis but the winter wind!' cried Fronto. 'On, cowards, with your work!' But, ere the words had left his lips, or those demons could wind the wheels of their engine, the appalling tumult of a multitude rushing toward the temple became too fearfully distinct for even Pronto or Varus to pretend to doubt its meaning. But why it was, or for what, none could guess; only upon the terror-struck forms of both the Prefect and the Priest might be read apprehensions of hostility that from some quarter was aiming at themselves. Fronto's voice was again heard: 'Bar the great doors of the temple! let not the work of the gods be profanely violated.'