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"Fairer than the children of men." "Hun Rhavas, dost mind thy promise made to Menecreta?" whispered a timid voice in the African's ear. "Aye, aye!" he replied curtly, "I had not forgotten." There was a lull in the trade whilst the scribes were making entries on their tablets. The auctioneer had descended from the rostrum.
Arminius Quirinius, ever grasping for money, ever ready for any act of cupidity or oppression, knew that from the mother he could extract a far higher sum than the girl could possibly fetch in the open market. He had fixed her price as fifty aurei, and Menecreta had saved just one half that amount when fate and the vengeance of the populace overtook the extortioner.
And Taurus Antinor, in the silent depths of his soul, prayed unto God that the woman he loved should never as Menecreta had foretold be driven to beg for mercy from a heart that knew it not and find a pitiless ear turned to her prayers. Caligula had quickly shaken himself free from the arms that held him. The fainting fit which had threatened him passed away as swiftly as it had come.
The human goods still left for sale after that would have to be held over for a more favourable opportunity. The praefect was preparing to leave. Up on the platform Nola, the daughter of Menecreta, smiled at the world through a few lingering tears.
Menecreta, paralysed by this sudden and final shattering of her every hope, uttered moan after moan of pain, and as the pitiful sounds reached the praefect's ears, a smothered oath escaped his tightly clenched teeth.
"What is the girl's name?" he asked as his deep-set eyes, under their perpetual frown, ran down the minute writing on the parchment roll. "Nola, the daughter of Menecreta, my lord," said one of the scribes.
Hun Rhavas fortunately glanced down in her direction. He too no doubt saw the possibilities of this moment of general confusion. The five aurei promised him by Menecreta sharpened his resourceful wits.
"I saw Thine agony, Thy sacrifice; it should be so easy to do this for Thy sake. Give me the strength to render unto Cæsar that which is Cæsar's, and do Thou take from me all that is Thine." She heard his words, she saw the look and knew that she had failed. Back on the cruel wings of remembrance came the words of Menecreta the slave.
It took me six years to save up twenty-five aurei which should purchase my child: twenty for her price, five for thy reward, for thou alone canst help me, an thou wilt." "Well, I've done all I could for thee, Menecreta," retorted Hun Rhavas somewhat impatiently.
Is the business of the State to be hindered by the howlings of this miserable rabble? Get thee gone, woman," he cried finally, looking down on prostrate Menecreta, "get thee gone ere my lictors do thee further harm." But she, with the obstinacy of a great sorrow, clung to his knees and would not move.
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