“Much more than you think. You have betrayed yourself into my power completely. I am master of your money”--(and he showed him Fabiola’s purse)--“of your character, of your peace, of your life. I have only to let your fellow-Christians know what you have done, what you have said, what you have been to-night, and you dare not face them. I have only to let that ‘bully--that big brute,’ as you called him, but who is son of the prefect of the city, loose upon you, (and no one else can now restrain him after such provocation), and to-morrow you will be standing before his father’s tribunal to die for that religion which you have betrayed and disgraced. Are you ready _now_, any longer, to reel and stagger as a drunken gambler, to represent your Christianity before the judgment-seat in the Forum?” The fallen man had not courage to follow the prodigal in repentance, as he had done in sin. Hope was dead in him; for he had relapsed into his capital sin, and scarcely felt remorse. He remained silent, till Fulvius aroused him by asking, “Well, have you made your choice; either to go at once to the Christians with to-night on your head, or to-morrow to the court? Which do you choose?” Torquatus raised his eyes to him, with a stolid look, and faintly answered, “Neither.” “Come, then, what will you do?” asked Fulvius, mastering him with one of his falcon glances. “What you like,” said Torquatus, “only neither of those things.” Fulvius sat down beside him, and said, in a soft and soothing voice, “Now, Torquatus, listen to me; do as I tell you, and all is mended. You shall have house, and food, and apparel, ay, and money to play with, if you will only do my bidding.” “And what is that?” “Rise to-morrow as usual; put on your Christian face; go freely among your friends; act as if nothing had happened; but answer all my questions, tell me every thing.” Torquatus groaned, “A traitor at last!” “Call it what you will; that or death! Ay, death by inches. I hear Corvinus pacing impatiently up and down the court. Quick! which is it to be?” “Not death! Oh, no, any thing but that!” Fulvius went out, and found his friend fuming with rage and wine; he had hard work to pacify him. Corvinus had almost forgotten Cassianus in fresher resentments; but all his former hatred had been rekindled, and he burnt for revenge. Fulvius promised to find out where he lived, and used this means to secure the suspension of any violent and immediate measure.