“Art thou mad,O Sallust?” said the praetor, rising from his seat. “What means this raving?”
“Remove the Athenian! Quick! Or his blood be on your head. Praetor, delay and you answer with your own life to the emperor! I bring with me the eye witness to the death of the priest Apaecides. Room there! Stand back! Give way! People of Pompeii, fix every eye upon Arbaces—there he sits! Room there for the priest Calenus!” “The priest Calenus! Calenus!”Cried the mob. “Is it he? No—it is a dead man.” “It is the priest Calenus.” said the praetor. “What hast thou to say?” “Arbaces of Egypt is the murderer of Apaecides, the priest of Isis; these eyes saw him deal the blow. Release the Athenian; he is innocent!”
“It is for this, then, that the lion spared him. A miracle! A miracle!” cried Pansa.
“A miracle! a miracle!” shouted the people.
“Remove the Athenian! Arbaces to the lion!”
And that shout echoed from hill to vale, from coast to the sea: “Arbaces to the lion!”
“Hear me,” answered Arbaces, rising calmly, but with agitation visible in his face. “This man came to threaten that he would make against me the charge he has now made, unless I would purchase his silence with half my fortune. Were I guilty, why was the witness of this priest silent at the trial? Then I had not detained or concealed him. Why did he not proclaim my guilt when I proclaimed that of Glaucus?”
“What!” cried Calenus, turning around to the people, “Shall Isis be thus contemned? Shall the blood of Apaecides yet cry for vengeance? Shall the lion be cheated of his lawful prey? A god! A god! I feel the god rush to my lips! To the lion—to the lion with Arbaces!” Sinking on the ground in strong convulsions—the foam gathered to his mouth—he was as a man, indeed, whom a supernatural power had entered! The people saw and shuddered. “It is a god that inspires the holy man! To the lion with the Egyptian!”
