CHAPTER XVI.
To return to Plautia, whom we left on the way from Tucca’s cottage to the villa Jovis, in the stormy, gray dawn.
Her litter was set down at a side door of the palace, and Zeno, the steward, stood by to hand her out. His proffered courtesy was loftily ignored, so he turned on his heel and led the way inside.
Not a living soul was to be seen; it was, doubtless, before the usual hour for any one of the Imperial household to be astir about the duties of the day.
The Greek brought them into a small peristyle close at hand. He threw open the door of a handsomely appointed room, and the noise brought forward, from within, three or four young female slaves, particularly noticeable for their good looks.
‘My prison?’ ejaculated Plautia grimly.
The Greek’s face grew pitiable with an injured look.
‘Caesar has ordered these apartments for your use; and these slaves will be under your orders,’ said he, bowing her in with a deep obeisance. Plautia gave a haughty nod and passed in with her own attendant. Zeno gently closed the door upon them, and his deprecating look gave place to a satisfied grin, as he hurried away to a different portion of the palace, in order to report to his master.