“Fair Valeria,” said he, “I have obeyed your commands, and I come like a faithful servant to claim my reward.”
Now a woman’s commands are not always intended to be literally obeyed. Under any circumstances she seldom likes to be reminded of them; and as for _claiming_ anything from Valeria, why the very word roused all the rebellion that was dormant in her nature. At that instant rose on her mind’s eye the scene in the amphitheatre, the level sand, the tossing sea of faces, the hoarse roar of the crowd, the strong white limbs and the yellow locks lying helpless beneath a dark vindictive face, and a glitter of uplifted steel. How she hated the conqueror then! How she hated him now! She was clasping a bracelet carelessly on her arm, the fair round arm he admired so much, and that never looked so fair and round as in this gesture. It was part of his torture to make herself as attractive as she could. Her cold eyes chilled him at once.
“I had forgotten all about it,” said she. “I am obliged to you for reminding me that I am in your debt.”
Though somewhat hurt, he answered courteously, “There can be no debt from a mistress to her slave. You know, Valeria, that all of mine, even to my life, is at your disposal.”
“Well?” she asked, with a provoking persistency of misapprehension.
He began to lose his head; he, ordinarily so calm, and cunning, and self‐ reliant.
“You bade me enter on a difficult and dangerous undertaking. It was perhaps a lady’s caprice, the merest possible whim. But you expressed a wish, and I never rested till I had accomplished it.”
“You mean about that wretched slave?” said she, and the colour rose faintly to her cheek. “But you never killed him after all.”
How little he knew her! This, then, he thought, was the cause of her coldness, of her displeasure. Esca had in some way incurred her ill‐will, and she was angry with the conqueror who had spared him so foolishly when in his power. What a heart must this be of hers that could only quench its resentment in blood! Yet he loved her none the less. How the fair round arm, and the stately head, and the turn of the white shoulder maddened him with a longing that was almost akin to rage. He caught her hand, and pressed it fervently to his lips.