Finding from the other slaves that until the previous day the animal had been accustomed to run about the house freely and to lie in Flavia’s room, Malchus at once unfastened the chain and for some time played with the lion, which appeared gentle and good tempered.  As the master of the household soon informed the others of the orders he had received respecting Malchus, the slaves saw that the newcomer was likely, for a time at least, to stand very high in the favour of their capricious mistress, and therefore strove in every way to gain his goodwill.

Presently Malchus was sent for again, and found Julia sitting on the couch by the side of her mother, and he at once acknowledged to himself that he had seldom seen a fairer woman.  She was tall, and her figure was full and well proportioned.  Her glossy hair was wound in a coil at the back of her head, her neck and arms were bare, and she wore a garment of light green silk, and embroidered with gold stripes along the bottom, reaching down to her knees, while beneath it a petticoat of Tyrian purple reached nearly to the ground.

“Is he not good looking, Julia?” Flavia asked.  “There is not a slave in Rome like him.  Lesbia and Fulvia will be green with envy.”

Julia made no reply, but sat examining the face of Malchus with as much composure as if he had been a statue.  He had bowed on entering, as he would have done in the presence of Carthaginian ladies, and now stood composedly awaiting Flavia’s orders.

“Ask him, Julia, if it is true that he is a cousin of Hannibal and the captain of his guard.  Such a youth as he is, I can hardly believe it; and yet how strong and sinewy are his limbs, and he has an air of command in his face.  He interests me, this slave.”

Julia asked in Greek the questions that her mother had dictated.

“Ask him now, Julia,” Flavia said, when her daughter had translated the answer, “how he came to be captured.”

Malchus recounted the story of his being blown by a gale into the Roman ports; then, on her own account, Julia inquired whether he had been present at the various battles of the campaign.  After an hour’s conversation Malchus was dismissed.  In passing through the hall beyond he came suddenly upon a female who issued from one of the female apartments.  They gave a simultaneous cry of astonishment.

“Clotilde!” Malchus exclaimed, “you here, and a captive?”

“Alas! yes,” the girl replied.  “I was brought here three months since.”

“I have heard nothing of you all,” Malchus said, “since your father returned with his contingent after the battle of Trasimene.  We knew that Postumius with his legion was harrying Cisalpine Gaul, but no particular has reached us.”

“My father is slain,” the girl said.  “He and the tribe were defeated.  The next day the Romans attacked the village.  We, the women and the old men, defended it till the last.  My two sisters were killed.  I was taken prisoner and sent hither as a present to Flavia by Postumius.  I have been wishing to die, but now, since you are here, I shall be content to live even as a Roman slave.”