Her blood ran cold with terror; for a few moments she stood as if spellbound, and was only conscious that the growling and snarling that she heard meant mischief and threatening to herself.  At last she found strength to turn to fly, but at the same instant a loud and furious bark echoed behind her and she heard the monster’s quick leaps as he flew after her along the stone pavement.

She felt a violent shock, the pitcher flew out of her hand and was shattered into a thousand fragments, and she sank to the ground under the weight of a warm, rough, heavy mass.  Her loud cries of alarm resounded from the hard bare walls, and roused the sleepers and brought them to her side.

“See what it is,” cried Hadrian to his slave, who had immediately sprung up and seized his shield and sword.

“The dog has attacked a woman who wanted to come this way,” replied Mastor.

“Hold him off, but do not beat him,” the Emperor shouted after him.  “Argus has only done his duty.”  The slave hastened down the passage as fast as possible, loudly calling the dog by his name.  But another had been beforehand and had dragged him off his victim, and this was Antinous, whose room was close to the scene of action, and who, as soon as he had heard the dog’s bark and Selene’s scream, had hurried to hold back the brute which was really dangerous when on guard and in the dark.

When Mastor appeared the lad had just succeeded in dragging the dog away from Selene, who was lying on the stairs leading to the corridor.  Before Antinous could reach her Argus was standing over her gnashing his teeth and growling.  Argus, who was quickly quieted by his friends’ tone of kindly admonition, stood aside silent and with his head down while Antinous knelt by the senseless girl on whom the pale light of early dawn fell through—­wide window.  The boy looked with alarm on her pale face, lifted her helpless arm, and sought on her light-colored dress for any trace of blood that might have been drawn, but in vain.  After he had assured himself that she still breathed, and that her lips moved, he called to Mastor: 

“Argus seems only to have pulled her down, not to have wounded her; she has lost consciousness however.  Go quickly into my room and bring me the blue phial out of my medicine-case and a cup of water.”

The slave whistled to the hound and obeyed the order as quickly as possible.

Meanwhile Antinous remained on his knees by the senseless girl, and ventured to raise her head with its long soft weight of hair.  How beautiful were those marble-white, and nobly-cut features!  How touching did the silent accent of pain that lay on her lips seem to him, and how happy was the spoilt darling of the Emperor, who was loved by all who saw him, to be able to be tender and helpful, unasked!

“Wake up, oh! wake up!” he cried to Selene—­and when still she did not move, he repeated more urgently and tenderly, “Pray, pray wake up.”