“I need arms.”
“Of what kind?” asked Vinicius, with astonishment.
The Greek stretched out one hand; with the other he made the gesture of counting money.
“Such are the times, lord,” said he, with a sigh.
“Thou wilt be the ass, then,” said Petronius, “to win the fortress with bags of gold?”
“I am only a poor philosopher,” answered Chilo, with humility; “ye have the gold.”
Vinicius tossed him a purse, which the Greek caught in the air, though two fingers were lacking on his right hand.
He raised his head then, and said: “I know more than thou thinkest. I have not come empty-handed. I know that Aulus did not intercept the maiden, for I have spoken with his slaves. I know that she is not on the Palatine, for all are occupied with the infant Augusta; and perhaps I may even divine why ye prefer to search for the maiden with my help rather than that of the city guards and Cæsar’s soldiers. I know that her escape was effected by a servant,—a slave coming from the same country as she. He could not find assistance among slaves, for slaves all stand together, and would not act against thy slaves. Only a co-religionist would help him.”
“Dost hear, Vinicius?” broke in Petronius. “Have I not said the same, word for word, to thee?”
“That is an honor for me,” said Chilo. “The maiden, lord,” continued he, turning again to Vinicius, “worships beyond a doubt the same divinity as that most virtuous of Roman ladies, that genuine matron, Pomponia. I have heard this, too, that Pomponia was tried in her own house for worshipping some kind of foreign god, but I could not learn from her slaves what god that is, or what his worshippers are called. If I could learn that, I should go to them, become the most devoted among them, and gain their confidence. But thou, lord, who hast passed, as I know too, a number of days in the house of the noble Aulus, canst thou not give me some information thereon?”