Edward Bulwer Lytton
The following selection is taken from “The Last Days of Pompeii”, a famous novel written by Edward Bulwer Lytton, the author of a large number of works of fiction.
Arbaces, an Egyptian, murdered Apaecides, a priest, and accused Glaucus, a young Greek, of having committed the crime. Calenus witnessed the deed, and Arbaces, after promising him a large sum for his silence, imprisoned him in a dungeon, leaving him there to die.
Glaucus was condemned, and, according to the ancient custom, was to be devoured by the lions; but Calenus escaped and accused Arbaces of the crime.
The terrible eruption of Mt. Vesuvius burst forth just as the crowd rushed upon Arbaces, and the city of Pompeii was buried beneath its fury. Glaucus and some of his friends escaped, but Arbaces perished.
The keeper, who was behind the den, cautiously removed the grating; the lion leaped forth with a mighty and a glad roar of release. Glaucus had bent his limbs so as to give himself the firmest posture at the expected rush of the lion, with his small and shining weapon raised on high, in the faint hope that one welldirected thrust might penetrate through the eye to the brain of his grim foe. But, to the unutterable astonishment of all, the beast halted abruptly in the arena; then suddenly it sprang forward, but not on the Athenian. At half speed it circled round and round the space, turning its vast head from side to side with an anxious and perturbed gaze, as if seeking only some avenue of escape. Once or twice it endeavored to leap up the parapet that divided it from the audience, and, on failing, uttered rather a baffled howl than its deeptoned and kingly roar. The first surprise of the assembly at the apathy of the lion was soon converted into resentment at its cowardice; and the populace already merged their pity for the fate of Glaucus into angry compassion for their own disappointment.
Then there was a confusion, a bustle—voices of remonstrance suddenly breaking forth, and suddenly silenced at the reply. All eyes turned, in wonder at the interruption, towards the quarter of the disturbance. The crowd gave way, and suddenly Sallust appeared on the senatorial benches, his hair disheveled—breathless—heated—half exhausted. He cast his eyes hastily around the ring. “Remove the Athenian!” he cried, “Haste—he is innocent! Arrest Arbaces, the Egyptian;he is the murderer of Apaecides!”
