"Silence!" said the attendant. "I am ordered to suffer none to speak to
the slave who is called Pearl-Maiden. Move on, sir, move on."
The man lifted his head, and although in that gloom she could not
see his face, Nehushta knew its shape. Still she was not sure, till
presently he moved his right hand so that it came between her and the
flame of one of the torches, and she perceived that the top joint of the
first finger was missing.
"Caleb," she thought to herself, "Caleb, escaped and in Rome! So
Domitian has another rival." Then she went back to the door-keeper and
asked him the name of the man.
"A merchant of Alexandria named Demetrius," he said.
Nehushta returned to her place. In front of her two men, agents who
bought slaves and other things for wealthy clients, were talking.
"More fit for a sale of dogs," said one, "after sunset when everybody is
tired out, than for that of one of the fairest women who ever stood upon
the block."
"Pshaw," answered the other, "the whole thing is a farce. Domitian is in
a hurry, that's all, so the auction must be held to-night."
"He means to buy her?"
"Of course. I am told that his factor, Saturius, has orders to go up
to a thousand sestertia if need be," and he nodded towards a quiet man
dressed in a robe of some rich, dark stuff, who stood in a corner of the
place watching the company.
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