Then the fanfare of trumpets and pipes blew again to drown the shrieks of the victim—a door on the opposite side of the arena lifted and a horseman rode in with a naked girl across his saddle pummel. He spurred his horse to a frantic gallop five times around the arena. The audience rose and cheered to the echo. The Lady Trefina in the royal enclosure was seen to sink back and drop her veil at the sight of the entertainment that had been provided in her honor; but the horseman having speeded round and round the arena now approached the dazed lioness, reached over, and, with his long whip, struck the crouching creature a stinging cut, and dropped the naked form across his saddle pummel not a stone’s throw from the enraged beast. The trumpets blew till the echo rang amid the temple columns encircling the arena, and the spectators went mad in a blood lust of shouts. The fall had loosened the victim’s hair. It fell in great black coils almost to her feet, and beneath her hair could be seen her nude form pink as a shell or sun dawn. A terrible silence fell. The spectators held their breath. The trumpets had silenced to be ready for a blast to drown any cry of anguish. The naked Greek girl had lighted agile as a bird on her feet, and she moved not so much as a hair’s breadth from the crouching lioness now snarling and lashing head and tail from side to side. Her flesh looked fresh as a little child’s. “Little fool! Why doesn’t she fight, or run!” demanded the Roman beside Thamyris. The Greek merchant sank heavily where he sat and hid his face in his hands. He wanted to shout her name, but had the coward’s protective presence of mind to know a shout would raise uproar and enrage the lioness. She was perishing and he, the real murderer, was watching her perish. Sweat of anguish stood out on his body in hot drops as of blood. What was it she had said—the sin of sins was cheating love? The silence in the vast audience had grown so tense he could hear the snarl of the lioness, the lash of its tail on the sand, the breathing of the audience as if spellbound and cowed. He peered through his hands. “She is an enchantress and ought to be burned,” muttered a Jewish priest. “Paul hath bewitched the maid.” The lioness had crouched but it had not sprung. It was advancing with its red angry eyes on the motionless, naked form. The girl did not move. The beast paused. The girl stretched out her hand. The lioness ceased lashing its tail angrily and tossing its head from side to side. It was creeping on her as a cat creeps on a bird. She stooped and all her hair fell about and hid her nakedness. The great cat came on but it did not strike nor spring. Its eyes were on the Greek girl’s, and the girl’s eyes were on its eyes. It raised its head. She did not move her outstretched hand. It sniffed her hand and dropped its head to her feet. She slowly stooped and laid her hand on its head.