‘Last night!’ said Martialis, starting. ‘What—was it you who came with that——?’
‘No other—I and my slave dared and endured even the contact of the wretch, and thus obtained a landing, in secret, on this haunt of Caesar.’
Martialis withdrew his hand from her enclosing fingers, and placed it in his bosom with a haughty gesture. She reared herself up at this eloquent movement with a flash of her imperious fierceness.
‘What! Do you think that I came as one of the train of that vile slave of Tiberius? I, Plautia!—do you think it? Speak, Martialis!’
‘It would be the easier and more probable thing to believe that Plautia had embarked in ignorance of her fellow-voyagers,’ returned the Centurion calmly.
‘Yet why did you draw from me?’ she said fawningly; ‘it was even as you say. It was an expedient arranged by another for landing on the island, and I simply followed my instructions, knowing nothing further. It has achieved my purpose—here I am!’
‘You are in the tiger’s lair, and the man who conducted you hither is a creature of Caesar, and a vile reptile who fattens on his patronage.’
‘He dare not break his trust, knowing who gave him his charge.’
‘I can guess who that same person is; nevertheless it does not abate my opinion one jot. I dare swear your secrecy will be hardly worth the name in a few hours—perhaps even now. There is no trust to be put in such a wretch. Lose no time in putting the straits between you and the island, let me commend you. Whatever business has brought you hither, despatch it at once—this night should see you away if possible.’
‘I have no fear.’