"I bet on you," he said. "The widow will be yours at this rate. But don't show her that note till you two are married."
Before anybody else could speak he went on:
"I'm famished. So are we all. Flowers are fine to look at and to smell, but give me food. Let's get at our dinner."
We did. We fell upon the relishes, disposing of them with hardly the interchange of a word.
When the boys cleared the table I observed with some pride that Tanno eyed with an expression of approval the table cloth and the big silver tray which they set on it, laden with the second course.
"You are," he said, "pretty well equipped for house-keeping in these remote wilds, Caius. Your table-cloth is far above the average for town tables and your tray is magnificent."
That started a round of talk on city usages, town etiquette and court gossip. Tanno, very naturally, did much of the talking, the rest mostly questioning and listening. He spoke at length of the Emperor, but of course more guardedly than while talking to me alone.
When the tray with the first course was removed and while that with the second course was being brought in the talk ebbed. Tanno gave it a turn, which at first seemed likely to prove unfortunate, by saying:
"Now I've told you the latest news from Rome and the current gossip and the popular fads. Turn about is fair play. It is time for some of you to tell me what just now most interests this country-side. My idea of country life is that it is about as exciting as the winter sleep of a dormouse or of a hibernating bear; but for all I know, it may be as lively in its way as life in town; you may be agog over some occurrence as important to you as a change of Palace Prefects would be at Rome. Speak out somebody, if there is anything worth telling."
"Whether it be worth telling I do not know," spoke up Bultius Seclator, "but the country-side hereabouts is agog just now over a recent case of abduction."