"No matter who it is," thundered the uncle. "But you are my nephew, and have insulted, roused the lovely girl to furious rage at my table, in my tent. How would you in Burdigala--"
A gloomy, significant glance from the young Roman checked his thoughtless speech.
"You must appease her. Now leave me; I don't wish to see you again to-day. Or stay--I will follow her myself. Poor little thing!"
Ausonius rose excitedly from the couch and hurried out. Herculanus and the slave who acted as cup-bearer remained alone in the tent.
"Is it so already?" muttered the former angrily through his set teeth. "Does the childish infatuated old fool reveal his plans so openly? To work, Davus! Well or ill--to work! Have you the hemlock? Have you enough?"
"I think it will do. If it fail the first time, you still have some in the other little vial?" Herculanus nodded. The slave went on:
"He complained yesterday of all sorts of bad feelings. I'll risk it soon, before he gets well again. But--one thing more--the Barbarian girl will sleep alone to-night."
"What? Not in the tent with the teamsters' wives?
"No; a contagious eruption broke out there last night: I heard Saturninus give the order to pitch another tent at once on the opposite side for the prisoner."
"But he will have her closely guarded."