The sudden reappearance of Eurymachus had been extremely agitating to the steward. Satisfaction, alarm, hatred and surprise, struggled in his mind for the upper-hand. He at once gave up all idea of going to the Amphitheatre, and, with his own hand he locked the slave, heavily fettered, into the remotest and securest hiding-place in his house. He was devoured by a feverish anxiety to know what Lycoris could have to say in the matter, and, having neglected, in his surprise, to question the two men-at-arms, he supposed the accidental meeting to have been planned beforehand, and thought that it was Lycoris, who had herself recognized the escaped slave and given him in charge. The whole day he tormented himself with trying to guess how it had all happened, and in his morbid restlessness he did nothing but walk about from one room to another. At last, as the supper-hour drew near, he began to wonder whether it would not be better to put the man, whose existence was a standing threat to him, out of the world at once, without waiting for the Massilian’s arrival. In pursuance of this idea he opened a case of weapons and took out a dagger. He slowly polished the keen blade, which had been the costly gift of a Parthian chief, whom he had been able to oblige. One blow with this blue, gleaming steel, and the incubus would be removed for ever. He set his lips firmly; the idea gained ground as he thought it over. As a persecuted slave, who must have lived in the fear of being at any moment recognized and seized, Eurymachus could hardly, up to the present hour, have revealed the secret that incriminated his master, to any one but his fellow Nazarenes and accomplices; and they, under the ban of the law and threatened with the same punishment as himself, had the most urgent reasons for keeping it and themselves dark. But what if Eurymachus, even now, were to find an opportunity?--Perhaps even the men who had taken him?--But no; such sharp practitioners would have taken advantage of it ere this, in the hope of extracting a splendid bribe. But Lycoris? some bold hint from the wretch might have betrayed the secret to her, and then Stephanus would be as completely at the mercy of this woman, as she had, ere this, been at his. For she hated him--on that point he had no doubt whatever. And if she wished to see the slave, on what valid pretence could he, Stephanus, refuse. He slipped the dagger into its sheath again and hid it in his tunic; then he called a slave and desired him to light a hand-lamp. This he took in his left-hand, and went to the room where Eurymachus lay, half-stunned as it seemed, on the stone floor. “At last I have you in my power,” muttered the steward, setting the lamp down on the ledge. “And this time, by the gods, you do not escape me!” Eurymachus did not reply; he looked up with dull indifference.