"I was waiting for you, my lord."
"Well? To-day? At the nocturnal carouse?"
"No. I dare not attempt it yet. Your uncle is as well as he was at home in Burdigala. Let him first sicken under this Barbarian sky, the unwonted fatigues of camp life in the rain and swamps; then it will be easier. But now--in perfect health? No, no! Have patience. Wait a little longer."
"I cannot. My creditors, the usurers, are hounding me to the death; have followed me here to the camp. And this region, this neighborhood, as you know, is more perilous to me than any other spot in the whole world. So hasten!"
"As soon as he begins to ail a little I'll do it at once. But I must confess--"
"What?"
"The vial of poison you gave me, I--"
"Lost? You blockhead!"
"No, it is broken. During the steep ascent of the mountain recently I slipped, struck my breast against a boulder, and crushed the little bottle, whose contents all poured out."
"Alas, then where else--"