He studied the situation thoroughly, deliberately. He became convinced that the whole thing was the conjoint work of Simon Magus and the Roman governor. He was sure that Simon Magus, a fanatic almost to lunacy, could not be deterred or withheld from a favorite project by pecuniary considerations. The government could not withdraw its proclamation without a sacrifice of dignity; and if Lelius were approached on the subject, he would probably refer it to Simon, by whom all proposals would be rejected. He thought it best to keep away from these high dignitaries altogether, and to sound the subordinates. He was afraid, moreover, that if Simon learned of a wealthy element working in Mary’s behalf, he would increase his vigilance and double his guards, so that bribery and escape would be alike impossible. It was best to let him believe that Mary was alone, helpless and friendless. He visited the amphitheatre and sought out the keeper of the prison connected with that immense establishment. The keeper had already been questioned out of his patience by crowds of people to whom he gave surly and unsatisfactory answers. He was a Gaul by birth, a Roman soldier by captivity and necessity, Euphorbus by name. He was taciturn and apparently ill-natured. Beltrezzor went straight to the point. He asked him no questions. He said softly: “A word to you in a private room may be valuable.” Euphorbus looked fixedly at him a moment, and led the way to a small office within. Beltrezzor produced a sparkling gem of considerable value. “I wish to speak with the young woman who is confined in the amphitheatre.” “Impossible!” said the keeper, gruffly. “I am her uncle.” “No admittance to anyone on pain of death,” said the Gaul, casting a wistful eye on the jewel. Beltrezzor drew forth a precious stone of remarkable size and immense value. “These are yours, my friend, for a single brief interview with my niece.” “Hark you!” said Euphorbus, taking the jewels into his hand. “I am willing to gratify and befriend you; but there are four Roman soldiers at the door of her cell, who permit no one but myself to go in or out.” “Are they not under your command?” “No. They belong to Simon Magus, and obey only his word.” “Lead me to them.” The old man made a touching appeal to these rough men for permission to see his niece. Some large gold coins that he offered them had more influence than his eloquence. The assurance of the keeper that he would shield them as far as possible, decided the matter; and Beltrezzor was admitted into Mary’s dungeon. The meeting between uncle and niece was affecting in the extreme. Mary had greatly changed since her imprisonment. A deadly pallor pervaded her beautiful countenance, and she had the air of one whose delicate nerves had almost given way under prolonged terrors. The old man clasped her in his arms, and the bitter tears fell from his face upon her golden hair.