The Mother of St. Nicholas Part 5

"Why?" replied the shepherd, looking bewildered.

"Dost thou not know the terms?" answered the Greek.

"I am a stranger. What terms?" Orestes asked eagerly.

"Oh, I thought thou hadst resolved to go to the woman's aid," replied the man, disappointed.

"Give me the dagger," said the shepherd, a red flush rus.h.i.+ng into his cheek. He had now grasped the situation at a glance, and seizing the weapon without ceremony or further word, he sprang up three or four steps and pa.s.sed through the vomitory of the wall to the stairs leading down to the lower part of the building.

Coryna heard and saw with joy, but with the racking pain of suspense, for the shepherd might be--(she dared not think it) would likely be--too late!

There was a brief, awful lull.

The lion would not leap while those calm heavenly eyes shone full upon him, and he would not as long as they retained strength. But if Pathema's head would bow down or turn aside, or if her vital force would go, and it could not last long, there would then be the sure and fatal spring.

During this critical pause, Carnion returned. He gave a half-expectant, eager glance down into the arena. Had there been a mere wild-beast battle--had the lion been face to face with an Indian tiger, the sight to the boy would naturally have been grand; but now it was perplexing and sore. He saw his thread-like hope of rescue broken--the monster glared upon a frail beautiful woman, and, as yet, there was no man. Turning aside, he bent his head on the back of the young officer's empty chair, and hid his tearful eyes, saying to himself despairingly--

"Will no brave man come, before it is too late?"

CHAPTER XI.

THE MAN WITH THE DAGGER.

Another door opened up with a sudden bang, and behold! a fair-haired youth, almost naked, and armed with a simple dagger, stepped boldly into the arena. A great shout went up from the spectators, as, without the least delay, he ran forward and stood between the lion and its intended victim.

Coryna gave the would-be deliverer one bewildered, piercing glance, then instantly lowering her head she hid a face of death-like whiteness in hands clammy with a cold perspiration.

"Father, father, dost thou not know him?" cried Carnion, startled up with the bang and the shout, and quivering with mingled grief and joy.

t.i.ta.n.u.s, never without a feeble ray of hope, was yet thunderstruck when the combatant's ident.i.ty dawned upon him; and though filled with admiration, he was visibly troubled.

The brave youth below stood erect and resolute, while the beast, disconcerted with the shout and the sudden check, rested back flat upon its limbs and belly. Like David of old when facing the giant, the young man came forward trusting in the G.o.d of Israel.

"Who is that courageous but foolhardy venturer?" enquired the emperor.

"Tharsos, of the praetorian guard, O sovereign."

"One of my n.o.blest and wealthiest officers!" exclaimed the emperor; "yet let him go--he tends towards the detested Christians," added he haughtily.

Servilius, the pagan confidant of the emperor, but the enemy of Tharsos, was secretly delighted. "We shall soon get rid of him, and Emerentia will be mine," said he to himself, as he leaned over to take a satisfied, last look at the self-sacrificing n.o.bleman below.

Pathema was struck with amazement, but inexpressibly grieved to think that the fair form of her defender would be speedily felled to the earth, and mangled, and devoured!

Tharsos did not stand on the defensive: he took the first step to battle; and the people gave a deafening shout of approval. He moved towards the formidable lion with slow but firm tread. The mysterious light of the steadfast human eye was unbearable--the suspicious beast rose up and skulked away, with trailing tail and with head turned partly round to keep watch upon its enemy. Tharsos held on steadily, purposing that if death should happen to him, it would be as far away as possible from the eyes of the sore-tried, desolate maiden.

When near the side of the arena right opposite the emperor, the lion howled with fear and sprang ten feet up towards the balcony, its eye-b.a.l.l.s gleaming just a short s.p.a.ce below t.i.ta.n.u.s and his eager boy.

Rising up quickly, t.i.ta.n.u.s placed his hand upon the hilt of his sword.

Fain would he have leapt down to the aid of his beloved friend. Their eyes met for a moment; and, though pale and grave, Tharsos smiled.

Baffled in its leap, the brute turned sharply round, face to face with its determined pursuer, and uttered a terrific roar of rage. The issue would soon be decided, and the immense concourse of people held their breath, while Pathema turned away her head and offered up a silent prayer to Him who has power over the beast of the field.

Tharsos now drew slowly back, while keeping his eyes towards the enraged lion. Suddenly withdrawing his gaze, he turned and ran with swift and bounding steps straight for the eastern extremity of the arena, while the surprised spectators yelled their contempt after him.

Then the man strangely swayed and tottered in front of the very door where the calm resolute woman had entered but a few minutes before.

"He plays the coward, he faints, curse him!" was heard on every hand, as they saw him finally throw up his arms and fall.

"The charge is false, false!" exclaimed an erect, indignant figure with a pale face up among the women. It was the voice of Coryna, but amidst the clamour she was not heard except by those immediately around her.

"Hear ye the madwoman!" cried they, as they scoffed and laughed.

The emperor, disappointed and even ashamed, sat in scornful silence.

But Servilius, excited with malignant pleasure, laughed outright.

Then t.i.ta.n.u.s rose up and drew his glitter-sword. He stepped to the very edge of the balcony, Carnion at his side, and the eyes of the people catching sight of him, the loud storm of abuse instantly ceased.

"Too late, too late, and out of order!" Servilius fiercely cried, fearing the rescue of the man he unjustly hated.

"He who calls my friend Tharsos a coward!" exclaimed t.i.ta.n.u.s in clear ringing voice, "shall die. I challenge him to meet me next on the sand of that arena!"

And Coryna was unspeakably relieved.

But no man would wantonly accept the challenge, for t.i.ta.n.u.s was agile and strong, and was one of the most expert swordsmen in the Roman army.

There was, however, much excitement over this bold interruption and at the announcement of the name of the prostrate man, whose high rank was widely known.

The indignant t.i.ta.n.u.s was right--there was no cowardice. The mult.i.tude had entirely misjudged the tactics of the brave Tharsos. The fallen man lay quietly upon his back, with his face slightly toward the lion, and with his dagger closely clinched in his strong right hand.

Coryna's feelings were strung to the highest pitch. Her suspense was agony, but she would not have her brave brother elsewhere.

The ferocious beast, taken by surprise or freed from provocation, suddenly quieted down. It sat on its haunches for a moment, and looked after the fleeing man. Then it rose up, and preferring a fallen form to an erect, it followed him with light majestic tread. It came to within twenty feet of where he lay, and halted, sitting on its haunches again. Rising up, it walked around him twice, looking at him curiously all the time. Satisfied at last that it had an easy prey, it went forward softly, like a cat. Halting, it bent down to sniff the still, white, helpless-like figure, and to seize the flank.

The time for action had come. Swiftly Tharsos drew his arm, and with terrific force thrust the dagger right into the would-be devourer's heart!

With a mighty yell the lion leaped into the air, and fell heavily across the body of its destroyer--a dangerous struggle or two, and it was dead!

Then was the stratagem understood, and when it was coupled with the name and rank of the self-sacrificing victor, a thundering shout of applause filled the amphitheatre.

"Well done! brave Tharsos," said the Emperor proudly to the distinguished n.o.blemen around him, who were all delighted, Servilius excepted, who vainly strove to conceal his deep displeasure.

Looking deliberately across the arena, the emperor caught t.i.ta.n.u.s' eye and smiled. That valiant officer rose up and saluted his sovereign with becoming dignity and grace.

"Oh father, what a grand fight," exclaimed Carnion, "and the Christian lady is free!"

"Yes, my son," replied the trustful soldier, resting back upon the chair for a moment with unutterable satisfaction, for the honor of his friend was upheld, and the virtuous maiden was saved.