"I refused, and he threatened to hurl the Alexandrians on the Regio Judaeorum. But in the meantime, fate or fortune, God knows which, ordered that Tiberius should choose Caligula to succeed him. The news reached Alexandria and stayed Flaccus' hand, for then he stood in wholesome fear of thy friend, the prince imperial. But thou didst tarry and tarry, and the more thou didst tarry, the more his hopes and his desires grew. No longer the Regio Judaeorum dared he threaten, but me and mine--Lydia, above all!" "Lydia!" Marsyas exclaimed. "And I tell thee, my Lord Agrippa," the alabarch continued, by this time a picture of refined indignation, "at this very hour I was brought face to face with a hard decision between my daughter and thy wife!" Marsyas turned toward Classicus, but the storm of denunciation that leaped to his lips was checked. What should he win for his exposure of Classicus, but scorn from Lydia, and a misconstruction of his motive? Atavistic ferocity glittered in Agrippa's eyes. "It is my turn!" he brought out between clenched teeth, "and I have a long score, a long score with Flaccus! Where is my lady? Let her be brought!" Lydia broke in before the alabarch could answer. "In hiding!" she answered quickly, and Marsyas fancied that she feared a too explicit answer from her father. Before whom was she afraid to disclose the princess' refuge, if not Classicus? "Take four of my praetorians, then," Agrippa commanded, "and lead me to her hiding-place!" The alabarch bowed and summoned servants. "Have we, then, delivered this house of peril?" Marsyas asked of Agrippa. "Flaccus," said Classicus, speaking for the first time, "may feed his thirst for revenge!" "Get but my lady, first!" Agrippa insisted. "Flaccus hath played and lost! He shall pay his forfeit!" The servants were ready with the alabarch's cloak; the porter announced chariots waiting, and in an incredibly short time, Marsyas was alone with Lydia and Classicus, in the presiding-room. "I shall return to the ship and prepare it for voyage," Marsyas said, in the silence that instantly fell. "Since I return to Judea with the King, perchance I should say farewell!" Lydia's lips parted, and her miserable eyes turned away from him. "Await my father's return," she said in a low voice, "Hath he far to go?" he asked. "Yes--far!" Classicus waited serenely for Marsyas' answer. In that composure Marsyas read unconcern, which the Essene interpreted as hopelessness for his own cause. "So long as we abide in Egypt, we are a peril," he replied. "Even now we have delayed too long!" He extended his hand to Lydia, and slowly, she put her own into it. The touch of the small fingers played too strongly upon his self-control. He released them hurriedly and strode toward the vestibule.