“I see through it all!  Not one step do you set henceforth across Petrus’ threshold.  There is the open window—­scream—­scream as loud as you will, and let all the people know of your disgrace.  I have the greatest mind to carry this sheepskin to the judge, the first thing in the morning.  I shall go now, and set the room behind the kitchen in order for you; there is no window there through which men in sheepskin can get in to my house.  You shall live there till you are tamed, and kiss my feet, and confess what has been going on here to-night.  I shall learn nothing from the senator’s slaves, that I very well know; for you have turned all their heads too—­they grin with delight when they see you.  All friends are made welcome by you, even when they wear nothing but sheepskin.  But they may do what they please—­I have the right keeper for you in my own hand.  I am going at once—­you may scream if you like, but I should myself prefer that you should keep quiet.  As to the dog, we have not yet heard the last of the matter; for the present I will keep him here.  If you are quiet and come to your senses, he may live for aught I care; but if you are refractory, a rope and a stone can soon be found, and the stream runs close below.  You know I never jest—­least of all just now.”

Sirona’s whole frame was in the most violent agitation.  Her breath came quickly, her limbs trembled, but she could not find words to answer him.

Phoebicius saw what was passing in her mind, and he went on, “You may snort proudly now; but an hour will come when you will crawl up to me like your lame dog, and pray for mercy.  I have another idea—­you will want a couch in the dark room, and it must be soft, or I shall be blamed; I will spread out the sheepskin for you.  You see I know how to value your adorer’s offerings.”

The Gaul laughed loud, seized the hermit’s garment, and went with the lamp into the dark room behind the kitchen, in which vessels and utensils of various sorts were kept.  These he set on one side to turn it into a sleeping-room for his wife, of whose guilt he was fully convinced.

Who the man was for whose sake she had dishonored him, he knew not, for Miriam had said nothing more than, “Go home, your wife is laughing with her lover.”

While her husband was still threatening and storming, Sirona had said to herself, that she would rather die than live any longer with this man.  That she herself was not free from fault never occurred to her mind.  He who is punished more severely than he deserves, easily overlooks his own fault in his feeling of the judge’s injustice.