“Silence!” said the grave praetor; “who is there?”

“The blind girl—­Nydia,” answered Sallust; “it is her hand that has raised Calenus from the grave, and delivered Glaucus from the lion.”

“Of this hereafter,” said the praetor.  “Calenus, priest of Isis, thou accusest Arbaces of the murder of Apaecides?”

“I do!”

“Thou didst behold the deed?”

“Praetor—­with these eyes—­”

“Enough at present—­the details must be reserved for more suiting time and place.  Arbaces of Egypt, thou hearest the charge against thee—­thou hast not yet spoken—­what hast thou to say?”

The gaze of the crowd had been long riveted on Arbaces; but not until the confusion which he had betrayed at the first charge of Sallust and the entrance of Calenus had subsided.  At the shout, “Arbaces to the lion!” he had indeed trembled, and the dark bronze of his cheek had taken a paler hue.  But he had soon recovered his haughtiness and self-control.  Proudly he returned the angry glare of the countless eyes around him; and replying now to the question of the praetor, he said, in that accent so peculiarly tranquil and commanding which characterized his tones:—­

“Praetor, this charge is so mad that it scarcely deserves reply.  My first accuser is the noble Sallust—­the most intimate friend of Glaucus!  My second is a priest:  I revere his garb and calling—­but, people of Pompeii! ye know somewhat of the character of Calenus—­he is griping and gold-thirsty to a proverb; the witness of such men is to be bought!  Praetor, I am innocent!”

“Sallust,” said the magistrate, “where found you Calenus?”

“In the dungeons of Arbaces.”

“Egyptian,” said the praetor, frowning, “thou didst, then, dare to imprison a priest of the gods—­and wherefore?”

[Illustration:  NYDIA The blind flower-girl of Bulwer’s Last Days of Pompeii.  Photogravure from a Painting by C. Von Bodenhausen.]

[Illustration]

“Hear me,” answered Arbaces, rising calmly, but with agitation visible in his face.  “This man came to threaten that he would make against me the charge he has now made, unless I would purchase his silence with half my fortune; I remonstrated—­in vain.  Peace there—­let not the priest interrupt me!  Noble praetor—­and ye, O people!  I was a stranger in the land—­I knew myself innocent of crime—­but the witness of a priest against me might yet destroy me.  In my perplexity I decoyed him to the cell whence he has been released, on pretense that it was the coffer-house of my gold.  I resolved to detain him there until the fate of the true criminal was sealed and his threats could avail no longer; but I meant no worse.  I may have erred—­but who among ye will not acknowledge the equity of self-preservation?  Were I guilty, why was the witness of this priest silent at the trial?—­then I had not detained or concealed him.  Why did he not proclaim my guilt when I proclaimed that of Glaucus?  Praetor, this needs an answer.  For the rest, I throw myself on your laws.  I demand their protection.  Remove hence the accused and the accuser.  I will willingly meet, and cheerfully abide by the decision of, the legitimate tribunal.  This is no place for further parley.”