“Why, this is worse and worse. Is the ex-prefect then, too, become a Christian?”
“Yes, and lives with many others of that sect in Campania.”
“What perfidy! what treachery! I shall not know whom to trust next. Prefect, send some one immediately to arrest all these men, and the school-master, and Torquatus.”
“He is no longer a Christian,” interposed the judge.
“Well, what do I care?” replied the emperor peevishly; “arrest as many as you can, and spare no one, and make them smart well; do you understand me? Now begone, all; it is time for my supper.”
Corvinus went home; and, in spite of medicinal applications, was feverish, sore, and spiteful all night; and next morning begged his father to let him go on the expedition into Campania, that so he might retrieve his honor, gratify his revenge, and escape the disgrace and sarcasm that was sure to be heaped on him by Roman society.
When Fulvius had deposited his prisoner at the tribunal, he hastened home to recount his adventures, as usual, to Eurotas. The old man listened with imperturbable sternness to the barren recital, and at last said, coldly:
“Very little profit from all this, Fulvius.”
“No immediate profit, indeed; but a good prospect in view, at least.”
“How so?”