“A greeting to thee, O Chilo!” said he.
“Young man,” answered the Greek, with pride and importance, endeavoring to give his face an expression of calmness which was not in his soul, “be greeted, but detain me not, for I am hastening to my friend, the noble Tigellinus.”
Vinicius, grasping the edge of the litter and looking him straight in the eyes, said with a lowered voice,—
“Didst thou betray Lygia?”
“Colossus of Memnon!” cried Chilo, with fear.
But there was no threat in the eyes of Vinicius; hence the old Greek’s alarm vanished quickly. He remembered that he was under the protection of Tigellinus and of Cæsar himself,—that is, of a power before which everything trembled,—that he was surrounded by sturdy slaves, and that Vinicius stood before him unarmed, with an emaciated face and body bent by suffering.
At this thought his insolence returned to him. He fixed on Vinicius his eyes, which were surrounded by red lids, and whispered in answer,—
“But thou, when I was dying of hunger, didst give command to flog me.”
For a moment both were silent; then the dull voice of Vinicius was heard,—
“I wronged thee, Chilo.”