“Fear nothing,” said the voice above. “The ways of the gods are wonderful.” But this god, who appeared in such a questionable shape, now threw both arms round the excited girl and clasped her to his breast with a vehemence not usually attributed to the divine beings; at the same time the mysterious Osiris heaved a sigh, almost a gasp, which in the midst of all his grotesque paraphernalia sounded remarkably human. Enough--in the next instant Cornelia had violently flung the god from her with a loud shriek, and, as he staggered backwards, she flew at him and seized him by the throat with the strength of desperation. A thunder-clap even, that broke close over her head, failed of its effect; after a short struggle Cornelia stood free in the middle of the room, with the hideous painted mask crushed and broken in her left hand, her right hand clenched and raised to strike. Before her, with distorted features, his eyes inflamed with rage and terror, was the sneering and repulsively-bloated face of the Emperor. From his cheek, where Cornelia’s nails had torn the flesh, blood was trickling out. He groaned and panted. For some minutes they stood transfixed, looking at each other. “Divine girl!” he said at last, in a broken voice. “Nothing but the wildest passion--a soul on fire....” He came a step nearer, and pressed his hand to his heart. “Stand back!” shrieked Cornelia wildly. “Is this the field where Caesar, the ruler of the world, seeks a triumph? Are these the glorious deeds of a Flavian?” “Hold your tongue, girl!” cried Domitian, furious. “I mock at your contemptible anger! Rome may crawl and whimper at your feet--I, Cornelia, scorn you! You clench your fist--coward! Kill me then, as you killed Julia.” “How she stands there,” muttered Domitian, “like animated marble! I had expected a different issue to my hour of immortality. You shall pay for this, Barbillus!” Cornelia had made her way towards the door, her eye still fixed on the enemy, and she now laid her hand on the bolt--but the door was fastened outside. Domitian laughed. He saw that Barbillus had foreseen every contingency, and this restored his spirits. If cunning failed, force might still conquer. He felt for the dagger he wore in his bosom.... “You are wasting your trouble,” he said scornfully. “Here you are mine, fair Cornelia.” The girl supported herself against a pillar; her head swam, and the dim blue light which shone into the room from the alcove, suddenly grew dark before her eyes. But she soon recovered the use of her wits. It occurred to her, that on the other side, where the Emperor had come in, there must be another door. She sprang upon Domitian like a lioness, and he could not stand against the unexpected attack. He tottered on one side, his foot caught in a fold of the curtain, and he fell to the ground. By the time he had picked himself up again, Cornelia had disappeared.