“Quite true.”
“Then you cannot be Quintus, the son of the Flamen Dialis.”
“You doubt it? Did not the centurion, who took us, tell you?”
“Not me—he spoke to the governor.”
“To be sure. Well, you will know it too before the day is out. Now listen to what I ask. The news of my arrest can hardly yet have got to my father’s ears. And if the report reaches him, if a stranger tells him the worst, point-blank, it will kill him. No one but myself knows how to mitigate the blow to him. Will you carry him a note, only two short lines—on these wax-tablets?”
“Impossible!” said the man, drawing back.
“Look here—I will give you this stylus—it is of pure gold....”
“If you offered, me ten times its value, I dare not. It is as much as my life is worth.”
“Then take me to your superior officer.”
“I cannot without leave.”