"You nursed him?"
A little cry of dismay escaped the lips of our hostess.
"No one ever thought of looking beneath," said she. "My daughter and I arrange and dust the room. I must remove my poor boy's image. He is indeed forgotten by most people now; but it might harm us, and alas! alas! could not help him, if this silent face, that never smiles at me, never talks to me any more, were to be discovered. Do not speak of this to any body, I beg of you, good lady, and my pretty one. You will not?" added she, smiling, but with tears in her eyes as she looked at Paulus. "I feel as though I had reared you."
They said they would take care not to allude to the subject at all, except among themselves, and then Aglais remarked,
"You speak in sorrow of the youth whom you nursed. Is he then dead?"
"Eheu! lady, he is dead nearly twenty years; but he was just about your son's age when they put him to death."
"Put him to death? Why was he put to death, and by whom?" asked Aglais.
"Hush! Mæcenas and the emperor ordered it to be done. Oh! do take care. The whole world swarms with spies, and you may be sure an inn is not free from them. Things have been more quiet of late years. When I was young, I felt as if my head was but glued to my shoulders, and would fall off every day. As for Crispus, did I not make him cautious how he spake?"
"But your foster-son?"
"Ah poor boy! Poor young knight! He was mad about the ancient Roman liberties; a great student, always reading Tully."