“And who are you?” asked Cinna contemptuously.
“A servant of Caesar’s and a guardian of the insulted majesty of the law.”
“Or else a pirate[73]....”
“A foolish subterfuge!—You know the sovereign’s guard-ship; aye, as well as I know the face of a rebel. Are not you Cinna, the eloquent advocate of the Nazarenes?”
Cinna did not fail to observe that, during this colloquy, the Charybdis, stealthily, worked only by the stern-most oars, was creeping nearer and nearer. This was exactly what he had hoped for. If only they would grapple! If only they would board. A fight on the decks of the Batavia was, of all the chances open to them, by far the most promising; their knowledge of the vessel, and particularly of its trap-doors and ladders would be a precious advantage. Cinna therefore judged it wise to parley a little longer with the enemy, that he might be deluded into believing that his scheme was not perceived or understood.
“Aye—that is my name!” he shouted back. “And who in the world has any right to dog my movements and detain me here?”
“Caesar and the law,” replied the soldier. “Do not resist, but trust rather to Caesar’s clemency than to the issue of an unequal battle.”
“I do not understand your meaning. Cornelius Cinna sails for Liguria.[74]—What spite is this, that dares to hinder his doing so?”
The warrior exchanged a few words with the ship’s captain.
“Is not Caius Aurelius Menapius on board?” he asked after a short pause.