“Slave,” he said haughtily, “tell your mistress that l am here.”

“I am not your slave,” Malchus said calmly, “and shall not obey your orders when addressed in such a tone.”

“Insolent hound,” the young Roman exclaimed, “I will chastise you,” and he struck Malchus with his stick.  In an instant the latter sprang upon him, struck him to the ground, and wrenching the staff from his hand laid it heavily across him.  At that moment Flavia, followed by her daughter, hurried in at the sound of the struggle.  “Malchus,” she exclaimed, “what means this?”

“It means,” Sempronius said rising livid with passion, “that your slave has struck me —­ me, a Roman patrician.  I will lodge a complaint against him, and the penalty, you know, is death.”

“He struck me first, Lady Flavia,” Malchus said quietly, “because I would not do his behests when he spoke to me as a dog.”

“If you struck my slave, Sempronius,” Flavia said coldly, “I blame him not that he returned the blow.  Although a prisoner of war, he is, as you well know, of a rank in Carthage superior to your own, and I wonder not that, if you struck him, he struck you in return.  You know that you had no right to touch my slave, and if you now take any steps against him I warn you that you will never enter this house again.”

“Nor will I ever speak a word to you,” Julia added.

“But he has struck me,” Sempronius said furiously; “he has knocked me down and beaten me.”

“Apparently you brought it upon yourself,” Flavia said.  “None but ourselves know what has happened; therefore, neither shame nor disgrace can arise from it.  My advice to you is, go home now and remain there until those marks of the stick have died out; it will be easy for you to assign an excuse.  If you follow the matter up, I will proclaim among my friends how I found you here grovelling on the ground while you were beaten.  What will then be said of your manliness?  Already the repeated excuses which have served you from abstaining to join the armies in the field have been a matter for much comment.  You best know whether it would improve your position were it known that you had been beaten by a slave.  Why, you would be a jest among young Romans.”

Sempronius stood irresolute.  His last hopes of winning Julia were annihilated by what had happened.  The tone of contempt in which both mother and daughter had spoken sufficiently indicated their feelings, and for a moment he hesitated whether he would not take what revenge he could by denouncing Malchus.  But the thought was speedily put aside.  He had been wrong in striking the domestic slave of another; but the fact that Malchus had been first attacked, and the whole influence of the house of Gracchus, its relations, friends, and clients exerted in his behalf, would hardly suffice to save him.  Still the revenge would be bought dearly in the future hostility of Flavia and her friends, and in the exposure of his own humiliating attitude.  He, therefore, with a great effort subdued all signs of anger and said: