The third, an utter stranger, was holding his left arm, and feeling it from the elbow upward as far as the shoulder-blade.

This caused so terrible a pain that Vinicius, thinking it a kind of revenge which they were taking, said through his set teeth, "Kill me!" But they paid no apparent heed to his words, just as though they heard them not, or considered them the usual groans of suffering.

Ursus, with his anxious and also threatening face of a barbarian, held a bundle of white cloth torn in long strips.

The old man spoke to the person who was pressing the arm of Vinicius,--"Glaucus, art thou certain that the wound in the head is not mortal ?" "Yes, worthy Crispus," answered Glaucus.

"While serving in the fleet as a slave, and afterward while living at Naples, I cured many wounds, and with the pay which came to me from that occupation I freed myself and my relatives at last.