"Impossible! My duty--"
"But my nephew must not die."
"It would be the best thing that could happen," growled the Illyrian, "for himself and his opposite men (for this selfish fellow has no fellow mortals). But I feared that it would be the result of your indulgence. Well, comfort yourself. As I promised life to the slave, the mere tool, the Cæsar can send the instigator to the mines too. But you are paying no heed to my words. Where are your thoughts?"
Ausonius had suddenly stopped. Thrusting the staff he carried violently into the earth he exclaimed: "Listen! Suppose I should go to her now--at once? Explain everything, persuade her? Last evening, in her excitement, she probably did not hear or understand. Just think of it--Consul!"
But his companion smiled and drew his reluctant friend forward: "Let her alone, Ausonius. You will only frighten her more. Perhaps a German fisher-lad is dearer to her heart than a Roman Consul."
"Inconceivable!"
"Yes, yes! Very intelligible. I will confess to you that she vehemently entreated me--"
"What, what!--when?"
"Just now, when I climbed down the wall to her and tried to speak for you. She besought me to protect her--from your wooing."
"Ungrateful girl!" exclaimed Ausonius wrathfully. This appeal to the Tribune against him wounded him most bitterly; he had the feeling: Youth naturally combines against age.