While she was thus explaining herself in spasmodic haste, Lucilia had rushed to meet her, had affectionately taken her hand and made her welcome; and Octavia bowed politely and begged her to be seated, for she must be tired. Claudia, however, and Cornelia particularly, seemed too much absorbed in their own thoughts to take much notice of the new arrival. This Lucilia remarked, and as Titus Claudius might now be expected at any moment, she thought she would be doing both her family and her friend a kindness, by taking Fabulla into another room, to give her the information she wished. She easily found some simple excuse and took Fabulla upstairs, just as she heard the measured tread of the master of the house in the atrium.
Titus Claudius came into the room with the most perfect calmness; a faint tinge of color alone betrayed, that he had gone through some severe trial to nerves and temper.
“There is nothing now to prevent your visit to the prison,” he said gently; but then he sat down, and, in a hoarse voice, asked for a draught of water.
“Is it possible?” said Cornelia, rushing up to him. “I may see him? You have settled it?”
Titus Claudius signed to her to have patience; a slave brought him the water, and he drank it in a long, deep gulp.
“It was a hard matter,” he said, seeing they all were eagerly awaiting his words; “Caesar was not at all like himself. He received me coolly, almost repellently.”
“You,” cried Octavia, starting up, “his most faithful adherent?”
“He fancied I was about to ask some favor for the imprisoned Nazarene.—And, in that case, Octavia, he would have had a right to be angry with me, for my petition would have imperilled the State. Laws are not made, to be evaded at the first case that occurs. That Caesar should have so misunderstood me.—It makes my face burn with shame and indignation only to think of it! I explained to him, perhaps in too strong terms, that he was mistaken. What Titus Claudius could ask was forbidden by no law, only by the over-carefulness of his officials. I then told him all I had done, in the hope of disarming their precautions, and how I had at every turn met with the same refusal; that I had at last come to the determination to come before him, the fount of all justice and clemency, and so gain my end beyond a doubt, though at the cost of troubling his sovereign majesty. He, no doubt, would allow me a privilege, which had never before been refused to any one. I was ready to pledge my life for it, that the course of justice would be in no way interfered with. Caesar was gloomy, almost wrathful, and he looked at me with an expression I never saw in him before. However, he granted my request. He sent to Parthenius at once....”
“Your firmness and dignity were too much for him,” said Octavia, with a sigh of relief.
“And when—when?” asked Cornelia.