Quintus entered a room, of which the neat and comfortable aspect quite delighted him. A three-branched lamp hung from the low ceiling; the walls were neatly colored of a reddish brown; small, but beautifully-executed paintings of flowers and fruit, showed brightly and prettily against this background. The floor was covered by a carpet, somewhat worn, but so handsome as to tell of better days in the past. A table, a chair, a few low seats and a small chest of dark oak composed the furniture--humble, no doubt, in the eyes of a Roman of rank, but still much better than Quintus had expected after climbing to such a height. “You are welcome to your servant’s house,” said the old man, to whom Quintus gave his hand. “We have looked for you with longing. I was almost afraid you might have repented....” “You had my word that I should come,” said Quintus. He sat down on a wooden bench, and Thrax Barbatus went to a door at the other end of the room, which he opened and called out: “Glauce.” In a few minutes a young girl came into the room. Her face was sweet and pleasing, but bore traces of weeping; her brown hair fell loosely over her shoulders, and her tunic was ungirdled. Worn out with the anxiety and grief of the last few days, she had sunk on her bed and fallen asleep, and now, standing in the door-way, dazzled by the light and confused by the presence of the noble stranger, she was a pretty picture of maidenly bashfulness and timidity. “Come, my sweet child, and welcome the protector of Eurymachus,” Thrax began in caressing tones; “this noble youth is Quintus Claudius, the friend of the helpless. He will save the persecuted victim, and obtain his freedom from Stephanus, and procure him Caesar’s pardon.” Glauce stood motionless for a moment; a faint flush tinged her cheeks. Then, weeping loudly, she flung herself into her father’s arms and hid her face on his shoulder. Euterpe, meanwhile, had set a wine-jar and a dish of fruit on the table. “It is but little, but heartily offered,” she said smiling, “and after your late walk you will not refuse such slight refreshment.” Then, taking a pine-log from the hearth-place, she struck the floor three times at short intervals. She listened--all was still. “He is asleep,” she said to Thrax, who had soothed his daughter’s sobs, and now took a seat by the brightly-lighted table. “He has earned it!” said Glauce. Euterpe repeated the knocking, and this time with better success. Some one could be heard moving below. In two minutes the stairs creaked, and a weather-tanned figure of middle height cautiously entered the room. Euterpe met him and respectfully introduced him to Quintus. “This, my lord, is my husband,” she said modestly. “He too had a share in the bold attempt in the park, for he has the greatest reverence for Eurymachus.” “To be sure--I recognize you! It was you, who offered the fugitive your arm to help him up the narrow path to the top of the ridge.”