THE hours passed in lingering torture over the head of Nydia from the time in which she had been replaced in her cell.  
Sosia, as if afraid he should be again outwitted, had refrained from visiting her until late in the morning of the following day, and then he but thrust in the periodical basket of food and wine, and hastily reclosed the door. That day rolled on, and Nydia felt herself pent—barred—inexorably confined, when that day was the judgment-day of Glaucus, and when her release would have saved him! Yet knowing, almost impossible as seemed her escape, that the sole chance for the life of Glaucus rested on her, this young girl, , , and acutely as she was—resolved not to give way to a despair that would disable her from seizing whatever opportunity might occur. She kept her senses whenever, beneath the whirl of intolerable thought, they reeled and ; , she took food and wine that she might sustain her strength—that she might be prepared!
 
She scheme after scheme of escape, and was forced to dismiss all. Yet Sosia was her only hope, the only instrument with which she could . He had been in the desire of whether he could eventually purchase his freedom. Blessed gods! might he not be won by the of freedom itself? was she not nearly rich enough to purchase it? Her slender arms were covered with , the presents of Ione; and on her neck she yet wore that very chain which, it may be remembered, had occasioned her jealous quarrel with Glaucus, and which she had afterwards promised vainly to wear for ever. She waited burningly till Sosia should again appear: but as hour after hour passed, and he came not, she grew impatient. Every nerve beat with fever; she could endure the no longer—she , she aloud—she beat herself against the door. Her cries echoed along the hall, and Sosia, in anger, hastened to see what was the matter, and silence his prisoner if possible.
 
'Ho! ho! what is this?' said he, surlily. 'Young slave, if thou screamest out thus, we must gag thee again. My shoulders will smart for it, if thou art heard by my master.'
 
'Kind Sosia, me not—I cannot endure to be so long alone,' answered Nydia; 'the solitude me. Sit with me, I pray, a little while. Nay, fear not that I should attempt to escape; place thy seat before the door. Keep thine eye on me—I will not stir from this spot.'
 
Sosia, who was a considerable gossip himself, was moved by this address. He pitied one who had nobody to talk with—it was his case too; he pitied—and resolved to relieve himself. He took the hint of Nydia, placed a stool before the door, leant his back against it, and replied:
 
'I am sure I do not wish to be churlish; and so far as a little innocent chat goes, I have no objection to indulge you. But mind, no tricks—no more !'
 
'No, no; tell me, dear Sosia, what is the hour?'
 
'It is already evening—the goats are going home.'
 
'O gods! how went the trial'
 
'Both .'
 
Nydia repressed the . 'Well—well, I thought it would be so. When do they suffer?'
 
'To-morrow, in the amphitheatre. If it were not for thee, little , I should be allowed to go with the rest and see it.'
 
Nydia leant back for some moments. Nature could endure no more—she had fainted away. But Sosia did not perceive it, for it was the dusk of eve, and he was full of his own privations. He went on the loss of so a show, and accusing the of Arbaces for singling him out from all his fellows to be converted into a gaoler; and ere he had half finished, Nydia, with a deep sigh, recovered the sense of life.
 
'Thou sighest, blind one, at my loss! Well, that is some comfort. So long as you acknowledge how much you cost me, I will endeavor not to . It is hard to be ill-treated, and yet not pitied.'
 
'Sosia, how much dost thou require to make up the purchase of thy freedom?'
 
'How much? Why, about two thousand sesterces.'
 
'The gods be praised! not more? Seest thou these bracelets and this chain? They are well worth double that sum. I will give them thee if...'
 
' me not: I cannot release thee. Arbaces is a severe and awful master. Who knows but I might feed the fishes of the Sarnus ! all the sesterces in the world would not buy me back into life. Better a live dog than a dead lion.'
 
'Sosia, thy freedom! Think well! If thou let me out only for one little hour!—let me out at midnight—I will return ere to-morrow's dawn; nay, thou canst go with me.'
 
'No,' said Sosia, sturdily, 'a slave once disobeyed Arbaces, and he was never more heard of.'
 
'But the law gives a master no power over the life of a slave.'
 
'The law is very obliging, but more polite than efficient. I know that Arbaces always gets the law on his side. Besides, if I am once dead, what law can bring me to life again!'
 
Nydia her hands. 'Is there no hope, then?' said she, convulsively.
 
'None of escape till Arbaces gives the word.'
 
'Well, then, said Nydia, quickly, 'thou wilt not, at least, refuse to take a letter for me: thy master cannot kill thee for that.'
 
'To whom?'
 
'The praetor.'
 
'To a ? No—not I. I should be made a witness in court, for what I know; and the way they cross-examine the slaves is by the torture.'
 
'Pardon: I meant not the praetor—it was a word that escaped me unawares: I meant quite another person—the gay Sallust.'
 
'Oh! and what want you with him?'
 
'Glaucus was my master; he purchased me from a cruel lord. He alone has been kind to me. He is to die. I shall never live happily if I cannot, in his hour of trial and , let him know that one heart is grateful to him. Sallust is his friend; he will convey my message.'
 
'I am sure he will do no such thing. Glaucus will have enough to think of between this and to-morrow without troubling his head about a blind girl.'
 
'Man,' said Nydia, rising, 'wilt thou become free? Thou hast the offer in thy power; to-morrow it will be too late. Never was freedom more cheaply purchased. Thou canst easily and unmissed leave home: less than half an hour will suffice for thine absence. And for such a trifle wilt thou refuse liberty?'
 
Sosia was greatly moved. It was true that the request was silly; but what was that to him? So much the better. He could lock the door on Nydia, and, if Arbaces should learn his absence, the offence was , and would merit but a reprimand. Yet, should Nydia's letter contain something more than what she had said—should it speak of her , as he shrewdly it would do—what then! It need never be known to Arbaces that he had carried the letter. At the worst the bribe was enormous—the risk light—the temptation . He hesitated no longer—he to the proposal.
 
'Give me the trinkets, and I will take the letter. Yet stay—thou art a slave—thou hast no right to these ornaments—they are thy master's.'
 
'They were the gifts of Glaucus; he is my master. What chance hath he to claim them? Who else will know they are in my possession?'
 
'Enough—I will bring thee the .'
 
'No, not papyrus—a tablet of wax and a stilus.'
 
Nydia, as the reader will have seen, was born of gentle parents. They had done all to lighten her , and her quick intellect seconded their . Despite her blindness, she had therefore acquired in childhood, though imperfectly, the art to write with the sharp stilus upon waxen tablets, in which her sense of touch came to her aid. When the tablets were brought to her, she thus painfully traced some words in Greek, the language of her childhood, and which almost every Italian of the higher ranks was then supposed to know. She carefully wound round the epistle the thread, and covered its knot with wax; and ere she placed it in the hands of Sosia, she thus addressed him:
 
'Sosia, I am blind and in prison. Thou mayst think to deceive me—thou mayst pretend only to take the letter to Sallust—thou mayst not thy charge: but here I solemnly dedicate thy head to , thy soul to the infernal powers, if thou wrongest thy trust; and I call upon thee to place thy right hand of faith in mine, and repeat after me these words: "By the ground on which we stand—by the elements which contain life and can curse life—by Orcus, the all-avenging—by the Olympian Jupiter, the all-seeing—I swear that I will honestly discharge my trust, and faithfully deliver into the hands of Sallust this letter! And if I myself in this oath, may the full curses of heaven and hell be upon me!" Enough!—I trust thee—take thy reward. It is already dark—depart at once.'
 
'Thou art a strange girl, and thou hast frightened me terribly; but it is all very natural: and if Sallust is to be found, I give him this letter as I have sworn. By my faith, I may have my little ! but perjury—no! I leave that to my betters.'
 
With this Sosia withdrew, carefully passing the heavy bolt athwart Nydia's door—carefully locking its : and, hanging the key to his girdle, he to his own , himself from head to foot in a huge disguising cloak, and slipped out by the back way undisturbed and unseen.
 
The streets were thin and empty. He soon gained the house of Sallust. The porter bade him leave his letter, and be gone; for Sallust was so grieved at the of Glaucus, that he could not on any account be disturbed.
 
'Nevertheless, I have sworn to give this letter into his own hands—do so I must!' And Sosia, well knowing by experience that Cerberus loves a , thrust some half a dozen sesterces into the hand of the porter.
 
'Well, well,' said the latter, relenting, 'you may enter if you will; but, to tell you the truth, Sallust is drinking himself out of his grief. It is his way when anything disturbs him. He orders a capital supper, the best wine, and does not give over till everything is out of his head—but the liquor.'
 
'An excellent plan—excellent! Ah, what it is to be rich! If I were Sallust, I would have some grief or another every day. But just say a kind word for me with the atriensis—I see him coming.'
 
Sallust was too sad to receive company; he was too sad, also, to drink alone; so, as was his , he admitted his favorite freedman to his entertainment, and a stranger banquet never was held. For ever and anon, the kind-hearted sighed, whimpered, wept , and then turned with double to some new dish or his refilled .
 
'My good fellow,' said he to his companion, it was a most awful judgment—heigho!—it is not bad that kid, eh? Poor, dear Glaucus!—what a the lion has too! Ah, ah, ah!'
 
And Sallust loudly—the fit was stopped by a of .
 
'Take a cup of wine,' said the freedman.
 
'A thought too cold: but then how cold Glaucus must be! Shut up the house to-morrow—not a slave shall stir —none of my people shall honour that cursed —No, no!'
 
'Taste the Falernian—your grief distracts you. By the gods it does—a piece of that cheesecake.'
 
It was at this moment that Sosia was admitted to the presence of the .
 
'Ho—what art thou?'
 
'Merely a messenger to Sallust. I give him this billet from a young female. There is no answer that I know of. May I withdraw?'
 
Thus said the Sosia, keeping his face in his cloak, and speaking with a voice, so that he might not hereafter be recognized.
 
'By the gods—a pimp! Unfeeling wretch!—do you not see my sorrows? Go! and the curses of Pandarus with you!'
 
Sosia lost not a moment in retiring.
 
'Will you read the letter, Sallust?' said the freedman.
 
'Letter!—which letter?' said the epicure, reeling, for he began to see double. 'A curse on these wenches, say I! Am I a man to think of—(hiccup)—pleasure, when—when—my friend is going to be eat up?'
 
'Eat another .'
 
'No, no! My grief chokes me!'
 
'Take him to bed said the freedman; and, Sallust's head now declining fairly on his breast, they bore him off to his cubiculum, still muttering lamentations for Glaucus, and imprecations on the unfeeling of ladies of pleasure.
 
Meanwhile Sosia strode indignantly homeward. 'Pimp, indeed!' quoth he to himself. 'Pimp! a scurvy-tongued fellow that Sallust! Had I been called , or thief. I could have forgiven it; but pimp! Faugh! There is something in the word which the toughest stomach in the world would rise against. A knave is a knave for his own pleasure, and a thief a thief for his own profit; and there is something honorable and in being a for one's own sake: that is doing things upon principle—upon a grand scale. But a pimp is a thing that itself for another—a pipkin that is put on the fire for another man's pottage! a napkin, that every guest wipes his hands upon! and the scullion says, "by your leave" too. A pimp! I would rather he had called me ! But the man was drunk, and did not know what he said; and, besides, I disguised myself. Had he seen it had been Sosia who addressed him, it would have been "honest Sosia!" and, " man!" I warrant. Nevertheless, the trinkets have been won easily—that's some comfort! and, O goddess Feronia! I shall be a freedman soon! and then I should like to see who'll call me pimp!—unless, indeed, he pay me pretty handsomely for it!'
 
While Sosia was soliloquising in this high-minded and generous , his path lay along a narrow lane that led towards the amphitheatre and its adjacent palaces. Suddenly, as he turned a sharp corner he found himself in the midst of a considerable crowd. Men, women, and children, all were hurrying or laughing, talking, gesticulating; and, ere he was aware of it, the worthy Sosia was borne away with the noisy stream.
 
'What now?' he asked of his nearest neighbor, a young artificer; 'what now? Where are all these good folks ?' Does any rich patron give away alms or to-night?'
 
'Not so, man—better still,' replied the artificer; 'the noble Pansa—the people's friend—has granted the public leave to see the beasts in their vivaria. By Hercules! they will not be seen so safely by some persons to-morrow.'
 
'Tis a pretty sight,' said the slave, yielding to the that him ; 'and since I may not go to the sports to-morrow, I may as well take a peep at the beasts to-night.'
 
'You will do well,' returned his new acquaintance, 'a lion and a tiger are not to be seen at Pompeii every day.'
 
The crowd had now entered a broken and wide space of ground, on which, as it was only lighted and from a distance, the press became dangerous to those whose limbs and shoulders were not fitted for a mob. Nevertheless, the women especially—many of them with children in their arms, or even at the breast—were the most in forcing their way; and their of complaint or objurgation were heard loud above the more and masculine voices. Yet, amidst them was a young and girlish voice, that appeared to come from one too happy in her excitement to be alive to the inconvenience of the crowd.
 
'Aha!' cried the young woman, to some of her companions, 'I always told you so; I always said we should have a man for the lion; and now we have one for the tiger too! I wish tomorrow were come!'
 
       Ho, ............