A moment longer and Cornelia, in her rising contempt, would have spurned him with her foot.  There were more feet on the stairway.  Glaring torches were tossing over gold inlaid armour.  A man of unusual height and physique strode at the head of the oncomers, clutching and dragging by the wrist a quivering slave-boy.

“Your mistress, boy! where is she?  Point quickly, if you would not die!” cried the invader, whom we shall at once recognize as Demetrius.

Cornelia advanced to the doorway, and stood in her maidenly dignity, confronting the pirates, who fell back a step, as though before an apparition.

“I am the Lady Cornelia, mistress of the villa,” she said slowly, speaking in tones of high command.  “On what errand do you come thus unseasonably, and with violence?”

Whereat, out from the little group of armed men sprang one clad in costly, jewel-set armour, like the rest, but shorter than the others, and with fair hair flowing down from his helmet on to his shoulders.

“Domina, do you not know me?  Do not be afraid.”

“Agias!” cried Cornelia, in turn giving back a step.

“Assuredly,” quoth the young Hellene, nothing dismayed; “and with your leave, this great man is Demetrius, my cousin, whose trade, perchance, is a little irregular, but who has come hither not so much to plunder as to save you from the clutches of his arch-enemy’s son, Lucius Ahenobarbus.”

Cornelia staggered, and caught the curtain in the doorway to keep from falling.

“Has Master Drusus sent him to me?” she asked, very pale around the lips.

“Master Drusus is at Corfinium.  No one knows what will be the issue of the war, for Pompeius is making off.  It is I who counselled my cousin to come to Baiae.”

“Then what will you do with me?  How may I dare to trust you?  Deliver myself into the hands of pirates!  Ah!  Agias, I did not think that you would turn to such a trade!”

The youth flushed visibly, even under the ruddy torchlight.

“Oh, lady,” he cried, “have I not always been true to you?  I am no pirate, and you will not blame my cousin, when you have heard his story.  But do not fear us.  Come down to the ship—­Fabia is there, waiting for you.”

“Fabia!” and again Cornelia was startled.  Then, fixing her deep gaze full on Agias, “I believe you speak the truth.  If not you—­whom?  Take—­take me!”

And she fell forward in a swoon, and Demetrius caught her in his powerful arms.

“This is the affianced wife of Quintus Drusus?” he cried to Agias.

“None other.”

“She is worthy of Sextus’s son.  A right brave lady!” cried the pirate.  “But this is no place for her, poor thing.  Here, Eurybiades,” and he addressed a lieutenant,—­an athletic, handsome Hellene like himself,—­“carry the lady down to the landing, put her on the trireme, and give her to Madam Fabia.  Mind you lift her gently.”