"Thou canst record thy vote as thou thinkest best," said Caius Nepos with calm urbanity. And those who were sufficiently sober nodded approval with solemn gravity.
"Nay," here interposed Marcus Ancyrus with stern reproof, "before we begin to vote let us be agreed on one point: let us be prepared to swear by the gods that we will adhere truly and loyally to the choice of the majority—and if, as meseems is likely, we agree that the unknown future husband of Dea Flavia Augusta become the ruler of us all, then must we swear to proclaim him the Cæsar with one accord, else doth our voting become a mere farce. Friends, before ye vote, are you ready to take this oath?"
"Aye! aye!" came from almost every mouth round the table. But they nodded like automatons, with heavy heads that rolled on bowed shoulders and blurred eyes half-hidden behind closing lids.
"I'll not swear allegiance to Taurus Antinor," persisted Hortensius obstinately.
"Dost think it likely that the Augusta favours him?" asked the host ironically.
"No—but——"
"Then what hast thou to fear?"
"As for me," interposed young Escanes in a thick voice broken by hiccoughs, "I am ready to swear as Marcus Ancyrus directs. If we are not satisfied with the new Cæsar, whoever he may be, my dagger will not rust in the meanwhile; I can easily whet it again."
Even as these last cynical words left the young man's lips there came from outside the noise of much shouting and shuffling of naked feet, and anon the sound of a voice, loud and harsh, asking for leave to speak with the praetorian praefect. Caius Nepos paused, tablets in hand. Strangely enough the voice, though well-known, seemed to have a sobering effect on all these ebullient tempers. Marcus Ancyrus, who was the most calm among them all, threw a quick glance of inquiry on his host, one or two furtive glances were exchanged, a look that was half-ashamed crept into some of the faces, and there were hurried, whispered calls to the slaves to bring the bags of ice.
Quickly the tunics were re-adjusted and an attempt made at re-establishing some semblance of decorum round the table. Caius Nepos was giving hastily whispered directions to the waiting-maids.