"Flaccus hath sent a messenger to the emperor—a messenger that commands the favor of the little Prince Tiberius."
"Who told thee?" she asked.
"Well?" she inquired.
He studied the look on her face and felt that it was strangely composed for the assumed eagerness in her voice.
"The tribune refused him the tessera which he must have to approach the emperor's abode, and required that he produce the indorsement of some notable Roman before he return again. The messenger went away boasting that he would get it of the little Tiberius."
"He will!" she assented, "for little Tiberius is not on the promontory to-day, and the sentries without dare not refuse the lad's signet!"
Marsyas frowned and looked down: he was perplexed that she did not help.
"Is there no way to shut him out of Misenum?" he asked.
"Cæsar's passport is as much a command as Cæsar's denial—when the little Tiberius delivers it," she repeated.
"But can I not reach Macro?"