"I was, at sunrise, on the Cælian; and I did see them."
"And heard you what they said?"
"No! but their faces were grave and earnest; and they seemed angry as they separated."
"Ha! In itself only, this were a little thing; but when it turns out that the man was slain that same night, the thing grows serious. You, therefore, I shall detain here as witnesses, and partially suspected. Some of your slaves must guard them, Catiline, and I will send a lictor to cite Paullus, that he appear before me after the session at the Puteal Libonis. I am in haste. Farewell!"
"Me! me! hear me! good Lentulus—hear me!" exclaimed Chærea, springing forward, all vehemence and eagerness to speak, as it would seem, ere he should be interrupted.
"Chærea?" cried Catiline, looking sternly at him, and shaking his finger, "Remember!"
"No! no!" replied Chærea—"no! no! I will not hold my peace! No! Catiline, you may kill me, if you choose, but I will speak; to keep this secret any longer would kill me, I tell you."
"If it do not, I will," answered his master, angrily.
"This must not be, my Sergius," interposed Lentulus, "let the man speak if he have any light to throw on this [pg 157]mysterious business. Say on, my good fellow, and I will be your mediator with your master."
The freedman needed no more exhortation, but poured out a flood of eager, anxious narrative, as had been preconcerted between himself and Catiline, speaking with so much vehemence, and displaying so much agitation in all his air and gestures, that he entirely imposed his story upon Lentulus; and that Catiline had much difficulty in restraining a smile at the skill of the Greek.