‘More by good luck than anything else—there was a swifter foot than mine behind me had it not slipped,’ replied Cestus, humbled and abashed by his failure. ‘You were too bold to be nigh—had you been caught, it had been fifty times worse.’
‘Rest yourself easy on that score—I am not such a bungler as yourself.’
‘Well, patron, the plan failed, but you can hardly blame me,’ began Cestus.
‘Whom then? if not you. It is the climax of your bragging worthlessness—idiot!’ said the knight wrathfully.
‘Well, but, patron—the soldiers! Who could be at both ends of the road at once? Another minute and I had done my work to perfection—I had finished it even now, but for that meddling fool, who chose to put in his word. Be reasonable, patron; I carried out your plans to the very letter and minute, but you made no provision for a troop of legionaries to interfere.’
‘Silence, blockhead! could I not see?’ fumed Afer. ‘Why, the old dotard, if they had left you to it, would have cracked your skull, thick as it is.’
‘No, never—if he outlived Saturn!’ retorted the Suburan, with rising voice, as well as choler, ‘nor fifty dotards from fifty Janiculums. Let me do the job in my own way, without [pg 102]the useless tomfoolery of a whining tale and a moonlight walk, and a cohort of asses lurking on one’s steps—leave it to me alone and you shall see.’
‘Yes, I should see you with thy neck in a noose and myself proclaimed,’ sneered Afer. ‘Leave it to you, indeed! If you cannot do better than this, with four stout fellows to back you, what would you do alone? Fool!’
‘I am no fool!’ returned Cestus fiercely; for the cutting contempt and epithets of his patron were more than he could bear.
‘A double fool—a swaggering, bragging, drunken fool, thick of sense and slow of hand—faugh!’