“Then Afranius must be got out of the way,” he said, frowning. “I have long thought I was too easy....”
“That would do no good. On the contrary; the sudden disappearance of Afranius would excite comment and remark, and every one would know at once to whom to attribute it. I tell you once more, it is not Afranius, it is Caesar himself.—Silence! to-morrow come and see me in my villa in the Via Praenestina—after sundown.—Nay, hold up your head, Stephanus. If it comes to the worst you can take ship and sail for Africa.”
“I? Leave Rome! I would die first. Rome is the only place where one can breathe. I should die in a province.”
“Well, we can discuss that later. See, Lycoris and the noble Norbanus have found us out—a well-matched pair! The conqueror of Dacian armies, and the conqueror of Latin hearts. Come, fair mistress, and decide the question; we are disputing as to whether the plane or the elm turns yellow first. Speak the decisive word.”
Lycoris laughed.
“If you put me to torture, I do not know. They both turn yellow too soon to please me.” She drew her cloak more closely round her, for the evening was chilly. They turned and went down the avenue together; Lycoris and the two soldiers in eager chat, Stephanus in the silence of despair.
When, after a short walk, they reëntered the house, Clodianus laid his hand on the steward’s arm and looked meaningly into his eyes. “Hold up your head,” he said with determined emphasis. “You may conquer yet, if you are a man.”
The words seemed to work a miracle. Stephanus inferred from them, that Clodianus had not told him everything. This idea, and yet more the peculiar expression of the adjutant’s manner, restored his confidence.
“To-morrow,” he whispered, as he shook hands with the astute officer. Then the party gave themselves up to enjoyment—a gay party!
It was near midnight, when Stephanus set out homewards. He could now hardly realize how he had so utterly lost heart at a single blow. Had he not sailed with triumphant success round many a rocky shore? Had he not ridden with safety through every storm? The storm that now roared round him was, to be sure, a hurricane. But Clodianus, that stalwart pilot, was standing at the helm.—In short—the much-dreaded Caesar was but a man like other men.—It was folly to run his head against the troubles of the future! “To-day is mine, and I will enjoy the present.”