In a moment his hands were seized and bound, his tunic was stripped off his shoulders, and a shower of blows fell upon them, delivered with well-regulated skill, till he roared and writhed, to the great enjoyment of his imperial master. Smarting and humbled, he had to stand again before him. “Now, sir,” said the latter, “what is the wonderful information you have to give?” “That I know who perpetrated the outrage of last night, on your imperial edict.” “Who was it?” “A youth named Pancratius, whose knife I found under where the edict had been cut away.” “And why have you not seized him and brought him to justice?” “Twice this day he has been almost within my grasp, for I have heard his voice; but he has escaped me.” “Then let him not escape a third time, or you may have to take his place. But how do you know him, or his knife?” “He was my school-fellow at the school of Cassianus, who turned out to be a Christian.” “A Christian presume to teach my subjects, to make them enemies of their country, disloyal to their sovereigns, and contemners of the gods! I suppose it was he who taught that young viper Pancratius to pull down our imperial edict. Do you know where he is?” “Yes, sire; Torquatus, who has abandoned the Christian superstition, has told me.” “And pray who is this Torquatus?” “He is one who has been staying some time with Chromatius and a party of Christians in the country.” “Why, this is worse and worse. Is the ex-prefect then, too, become a Christian?” “Yes, and lives with many others of that sect in Campania.” “What perfidy! what treachery! I shall not know whom to trust next. Prefect, send some one immediately to arrest all these men, and the school-master, and Torquatus.” “He is no longer a Christian,” interposed the judge. “Well, what do I care?” replied the emperor peevishly; “arrest as many as you can, and spare no one, and make them smart well; do you understand me? Now begone, all; it is time for my supper.” Corvinus went home; and, in spite of medicinal applications, was feverish, sore, and spiteful all night; and next morning begged his father to let him go on the expedition into Campania, that so he might retrieve his honor, gratify his revenge, and escape the disgrace and sarcasm that was sure to be heaped on him by Roman society. When Fulvius had deposited his prisoner at the tribunal, he hastened home to recount his adventures, as usual, to Eurotas. The old man listened with imperturbable sternness to the barren recital, and at last said, coldly: “Very little profit from all this, Fulvius.” “No immediate profit, indeed; but a good prospect in view, at least.” “How so?” “Why, the Lady Agnes is in my power. I have made sure, at last, that she is a Christian. I can now necessarily either win her or destroy her. In either case her property is mine.” “Take the second alternative,” said the old man, with a keen glow in his eye, but no change of face; “it is the shorter, and less troublesome, way.”