She regarded me fixedly, as she had while Agathemer had gone for the children. When she spoke she asked:
"What god do you worship?"
I was amazed at this unusual and unexpected question and hesitated a moment before I answered:
"Mercury, chiefly. Of course, Jupiter and Juno; Dionysius, Apollo,
Minerva. But most of all Mercury."
She sighed.
"I had expected a very different answer," she said. "But, whatever god or gods you worship, you are a good man and your servant is a good man. I am amazed. My children were truthful till I fell ill. I am sure they could not have changed in one winter. In any case Secunda's precocity and Prima's vacuity seem equally incapable of any deception. What they tell me is all but incredible, yet I believe it. You two men have acted to me and mine as if you had been my blood kin. If you two had been my own brothers you could have done no more for us. I shall always be grateful. What are your names?"
Agathemer and I had agreed to use the names Sabinus Felix and Bruttius Asper. These names, common enough in Sabinum, we, in fact, had given at the farms where Agathemer's flageolet-playing won us entertainment in the autumn. I gave them now. I added:
"It seems best to me that you should not ask either whence we came or whither we are bound."
"I understand," she said.
"And now," said I, "since you have our names, tell us how we should address the mother of Prima and Secunda."