Zeno knew that he was close at hand and went to fetch him. In the few moments’ interval the strained attention of the company relaxed into a low murmur of conversation. Caesar sat with his cheek on his hand and his eyes fixed on no one in particular. The Prefect stole round to the side of his friend Afer and whispered, ‘What is all this, Afer?’
‘You have heard, like me, for the first time, Prefect,’ replied the other, ‘the conspiracy of a rogue.’
‘A clever rogue, by Hercules,’ observed the other, and at that moment Zeno re-entered with the young Greek Erotion.
‘Come hither into the midst,’ said Caesar.
Erotion, with a look of mingled astonishment and alarm, cast an uneasy glance around, whilst bethinking himself of any misdeed which was about to be visited upon him. He came forward into the middle and betrayed unmistakable surprise at seeing Cestus. His master’s eyes were, moreover, fixed on him with a peculiar, meaning expression which he failed to interpret, and which tended to further embarrass him.
‘Are you the slave of Domitius Afer, called Erotion?’ demanded Caesar.
‘I am.’
‘Stand forward a step, Suburan. Now, slave, look at that man and say whether you know him.’
The young slave’s eyes instinctively turned a fleeting sidelong glance at Afer ere he complied, whereupon Tiberius peremptorily bade him turn his back on his master.
‘Look upon no one but him I have pointed out to you; speak truly and fear not. If you speak false, Caesar has the means of discovering it, and then woe upon you. Do you know him?’