He would have no
dealings with the parents of Christians.
Then he, too, knew their disgrace. It must have been noised--abroad in
the city. Aurelius hurried home and sitting down where Claudia had
rested, looking so beautiful, on her return from the amphitheatre on
the Spring day which seemed so long ago, he buried his face in his
hands.
An awful fear haunted him. To-day had been fixed for the games. Could
it be possible that Virgilia, so fair, so delicate, shielded all her
life from the rough and hard things, protected and loved, was among
those Christians whom Caesar had, in his cruelty, doomed to death?
And Martius, where was he?
He felt a light touch on his shoulder and looked up with dull eyes,
clouded with misery and loneliness, into the dark, sallow face of the
kitchen-maid, whom he had never noticed before until he saw her
tenderly ministering to his wife.
In a few concise sentences, she told him all.
Virgilia and Martius were to be sacrificed, with hundreds of other
Christians that afternoon. It was known that Octavia, and her children
were also condemned.
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