If the beautiful alabaster statue, with a bronze head, in the niche beside the table, had fallen forward, and been smashed on the marble pavement, it could not have caused a more fearful sensation than this sudden announcement. All were startled for a moment. Next, a long blank pause ensued, after which, each began to show his feelings in his features. Fabius looked exceedingly foolish, as if conscious that he had brought his guests into bad company. Calpurnius puffed himself out, evidently thinking himself ill-used, by having a guest brought in, who might absurdly be supposed to know more about Christians than himself. A young man opened his mouth as he stared at Torquatus; and a testy old gentleman was evidently hesitating, whether he should not knock down somebody or other, no matter whom. Corvinus looked at the poor Christian with the sort of grin of delight, half idiotic, half savage, with which a countryman might gaze upon the vermin that he finds in his trap in a morning. Here was a man ready to hand, to put on the rack, or the gridiron, whenever he pleased. But the look of Fulvius was worth them all. If ever any microscopic observer has had the opportunity of witnessing the expression of the spider’s features, when, after a long fast, it sees a fly, plump with others’ blood, approach its net, and keenly watches every stroke of its wing, and studies how it can best throw only the first thread round it, sure that then all that gorges it shall be its own; that we fancy would be the best image of his looks, as certainly it is of his feelings. To get hold of a Christian, ready to turn traitor, had long been his desire and study. Here, he was sure, was one, if he could only manage him. How did he know this? Because he knew sufficient of Christians to be convinced, that no genuine one would have allowed himself either to drink to excess, or to boast of his readiness to court martyrdom. The company broke up; every body slunk away from the discovered Christian, as from one pest-stricken. He felt alone and depressed, when Fulvius, who had whispered a word to Fabius, and to Corvinus, went up to him, and taking him by the hand said, courteously: “I fear, I spoke inconsiderately, in drawing out from you a declaration which may prove dangerous.” “I fear nothing,” replied Torquatus, again excited; “I will stand to my colors to the last.” “Hush, hush!” broke in Fulvius, “the slaves may betray you. Come with me to another chamber, where we can talk quietly together.” So saying, he led him into an elegant room, where Fabius had ordered goblets and flagons of the richest Falernian wine to be brought, for such as, according to Roman fashion, liked to enjoy a _commissatio_, or drinking-bout. But only Corvinus, engaged by Fulvius, followed.