Corvinus hastened back with this message, and the emperor received it with a laugh. They were men with whom he could not afford to quarrel; for he relied on them in battle, or insurrection, for picking out the leaders. “The cunning rascals!” he exclaimed. “There, take that trinket to Hyphax’s black spouse.” And he gave him Fabiola’s splendid ring. He hastened back, delivered his gracious embassy, and threw the ring across. In an instant every bow dropt, and every string relaxed. Jubala, delighted, sprang forward and caught the ring. A heavy blow from her husband’s fist felled her to the ground, and was greeted with a shout of applause. The savage seized the jewel; and the woman rose, to fear that she had only exchanged one slavery for a worse. Hyphax screened himself behind the imperial command. “If,” he said, “you had allowed us to send an arrow through his head or heart, all would have been straight. As it was, we are not responsible.” “At any rate, I will myself see my work done properly this time,” said Maximian. “Two of you fellows with clubs come here.” Two of his attendant executioners came from behind; Sebastian, scarcely able to stand, was also there; mild and intrepid. “Now, my men,” said the barbarian, “I must not have any blood spilt on these stairs; so you knock the life out of him with your cudgels; make clean work of it. Madam, what is your petition?”--stretching out his hand, to Fabiola, whom he recognized, and so addressed more respectfully. She was horrified and disgusted, and almost fainting at the sight before her; so she said, “Sire, I fear it is too late!” “Why too late?” looking at the paper. A flash came from his eye, as he said to her: “What! You knew that Sebastian was alive? Are you a Christian?” “No, sire,” she replied. Why did the denial almost dry up in her throat? She could not for her life have said she was any thing else. Ah! Fabiola, thy day is not far off. “But, as you said just now,” replied the emperor, more serene, returning her petition, “I fear it is too late; I think that blow must have been the _ictus gratiosus_.”[191] “I feel faint, sire,” said she, respectfully; “may I retire?” “By all means. But, by the bye, I have to thank you for the beautiful ring which you sent, and which I have given to Hyphax’s wife” (lately her own slave!). “It will look more brilliant on a black hand than even on mine. Adieu!” and he kissed his hand with a wicked smile, as if there were no martyr’s body near to witness against him. He was right; a heavy blow on the head had proved fatal; and Sebastian was safe where he had so longed to be. He bore with him a double palm, and received a twofold crown. Yet still, an ignominious end before the world; beaten to death without ceremony, while the emperor conversed. How much of martyrdom is in its disgrace! Woe to us when we know that our sufferings earn us honor!