‘I fancy we have seen something like the turn of these characters before,’ said Afer drily; ‘the varnish is very thinly laid on.’
The epistle was addressed to L. Martialis, Centurion, Villa Jovis. They opened it and read:—
‘One who has braved discomfort and peril desires to see you, Centurion. Close by the path which leads down to the southern landing there is a white rock. I shall await you there at nightfall. As you have a heart do not fail me!’
They looked at each other, and the Prefect broke into a laugh, which was, however, forced and disgusted. The knight smiled inwardly.
‘There!’ uttered Sejanus, ‘I told you I knew not. I am [pg 173]right and you are wrong. It is only thus one can have the chance, sometimes, to fathom what is lowermost in the mind of a woman. She is in love with Martialis! Who would have dreamt of it? A mere Centurion to ensnare the proud goddess!’
‘It is, at the least, very extraordinary; but it does not follow that she is bitten with this soldier.’
‘It is so likely that I accept the construction very easily.’
‘There is one comfort; it may lead to fratricide,’ muttered Afer.
‘What do you say, Afer?’ asked the Prefect.
‘I say it is a bitter pill for the other brother.’