"Let his head down, my friend," said Cicero, turning, much disappointed as it seemed, to Furbo, "let it lie, as it was when we found it; clear the shop, lictors; take the names of the witnesses; one of you keep watch at the door, until you are relieved; lock it and give the key to the prætor, when he shall arrive; the other, go straightway, and summon Cornelius Lentulus; he is the prætor for this ward. Go to your homes, my friends, and make no tumult in the streets, I pray you. This shall be looked to and avenged; your Consul watches over you!"
"Live! live the Consul! the good Consul, the man of the people!" shouted the crowd, as they dispersed quietly to their homes.
"Arvina, come with me. To whom told you, that you had found, and Volero sold, this dagger?" he asked very sternly.
"To no one, Cicero. Marcus Aurelius Victor, and Aristius Fuscus were with me, when he recognized it for his work?"
"No one else?"
"No one, save our slaves, and they," he added in a breath, "could not have heard what passed."
"Hath no one else seen it?"
"As I was stripping for the contests on the Campus, Catiline saw it in my girdle, and admired its fabric."
"Catiline!"
"Ay! Consul?"