"Canst thou not trust thy slaves?" he snarled.
"Couldst thou trust thine?" she retorted.
"I can change robes with one of my guard," he urged, "and he could then pretend to be the Cæsar escaping through the crypta to the House of Augustus."
"'Twere safest not to make pretence," she rejoined coolly; "rather let the Cæsar do what he suggests."
"What is that?"
"The Palace of Augustus would be the safest stronghold for the Cæsar until the arrival of the legions. It would be safer than the house of his servant, for prying eyes may have seen him enter it, and ears—sharpened by hate—may have heard his cries."
"Then am I lost!" he exclaimed.
"Not if my gracious lord will take counsel of his servant. The underground way is clear and safe. The Palace of Augustus would afford ample shelter. Twenty men well armed will watch over the Cæsar and the house of Dea Flavia will furnish the necessary food."
Caligula hesitated a moment, his shifty eyes wandered restlessly over the face of the young girl.
"Thou'lt not betray me?" he murmured.