Such an occasion was now approaching. The persecution had lingered. No person of note had been yet captured; the failures of the first day had not been fully repaired; and something more wholesale was expected. The people demanded more sport; and an approaching imperial birthday justified their gratification. The wild beasts, which Sebastian and Pancratius had heard, yet roared for their lawful prey. “_Christianos ad leones_” might seem to have been interpreted by them, as meaning “that the Christians of right belonged to them.” One afternoon, towards the end of December, Corvinus proceeded to the Baths of Dioclesian, accompanied by Catulus, who had an eye for proper combatants in the amphitheatre, such as a good dealer would have for cattle at a fair. He called for Rabirius, the superintendent of the convict department, and said to him: “Rabirius, I am come by order of the emperor, to select a sufficient number of the wicked Christians under your charge, for the honor of fighting in the amphitheatre, on occasion of the coming festival.” “Really,” answered the officer, “I have none to spare. I am obliged to finish the work in a given time, and I cannot do so, if I am left short of hands.” “I cannot help that; others will be got to replace those that are taken from you. You must walk Catulus and myself through your works, and let us choose those that will suit us.” Rabirius, grumbling at this unreasonable demand, submitted nevertheless to it, and took them into a vast area, just vaulted over. It was entered by a circular vestibule lighted from above, like the Pantheon. This led into one of the shorter arms of a cruciform hall of noble dimensions, into which opened a number of lesser, though still handsome, chambers. At each angle of the hall, where the arms intersected one another, a huge granite pillar of one block had to be erected. Two were already in their places, one was girt with ropes delivered round capstans, ready to be raised on the morrow. A number of men were actively employed in making final preparations. Catulus nudged Corvinus, and pointed, with his thumb, to two fine youths, who, stripped slave-fashion to their waists, were specimens of manly athletic forms. “I must have those two, Rabirius,” said the willing purveyor to wild beasts; “they will do charmingly. I am sure they are Christians, they work so cheerfully.” “I cannot possibly spare them at present. They are worth six men, or a pair of horses, at least, to me. Wait till the heavy work is over, and then they are at your service.” “What are their names, that I may take a note of them? And mind, keep them up in good condition.” “They are called Largus and Smaragdus; they are young men of excellent family, but work like plebeians, and will go with you nothing loth.” “They shall have their wish,” said Corvinus, with great glee. And so they had later.