Priscus bowed and smirked again with effusive gallantry which Plautia, as affectedly, returned.
‘And now I will detain you no longer, my friend,’ said Plautia; ‘forgive my idle message!’
‘Ah, say no more of that—would I could remain! But there is an excursion half resolved upon to-day to inspect the works at the new villa of Mars. You will doubtless hear of it in due course, if finally resolved on. Till then farewell, noble Plautia.’
As the day wore on, Priscus came again with the anticipated invitation for Plautia to accompany the afternoon’s expedition.
The effect of yesterday’s experience had far from passed away from her mind, and, although she had recovered much of her nerve, there yet remained a dread of appearing among the people. The hesitation did not last long. Her courage was equal to the occasion, and she had now, moreover, a definite plan of action. The man before her, she thought, as that individual chattered away, must know, if any one knew, of every rumour and piece of gossip current in the villa and island. She longed to question him, but her pride recoiled from the attempt.
As the knight was going out of the room, he suddenly turned back and whispered, with portentous secrecy, ‘Concerning that potter, I had nearly forgotten to tell you. I am afraid the verdict goes dead against him—Caesar has been closeted with his philosophers all morning—lengthy discussion and [pg 321]opinion entirely unfavourable to said potter’s invention—Silenus tells me this, sub rosa—I tell it to you, divine Plautia, but you will respect the secret and save me the fate of a talebearer, I know—in half an hour your litter will await you at your garden entrance.’
At the time appointed Plautia was borne away by the stout slaves, and joined Tiberius and his small retinue which awaited her without the villa gates. After a minute inspection of the villa, which was rapidly rising on a height beyond the village, the party returned, and Plautia was escorted to her rooms by her host himself. Refreshments were served. Tiberius, drinking wine, reclined on a couch.
‘You eat nothing, Caesar,’ said Plautia, whose healthy appetite, sharpened by the open air, was not so easily appeased.
‘Age wants for less than youth,’ replied Tiberius, with his admiring gaze fixed upon her. ‘This island wine will suffice me till supper.’
She refilled his cup and acted as his cupbearer, with such charming, smiling grace, that his pale face was suffused with a faint hue of pleasure.