“Ay, my child,” answered Agrippina, mechanically. Suddenly she clutched Psyche by the shoulder. With a wild stare in her eyes that frightened the young maiden, she said: “Can it be, my child, that Drusus was poisoned? Ay, ’tis true! I have often believed that Livilla and Sejanus were lovers. Ye celestial gods! is it possible that this woman conspired against her husband?”
“Ah, my lady, that accounts for Gannon’s death,” cried Psyche, as the mystery of her arrest became plain; “now do I understand everything.”
“It means more,” said Agrippina, with deep emotion in her words. “Sejanus has murdered Drusus; he has made Tiberius a captive at Capri; he has, by his nefarious plans, charged myself and my sons with treason. O Psyche,” she cried despairingly, “Sejanus will be emperor of Rome! And then there will be no help for us!”
“But can nothing be done?” inquired the trembling girl.
“Letters to or from prisoners are not allowed,” said Agrippina, despondently.
The prisoners had passed but a few days upon the island when one morning the vessel that brought food and orders to the soldiers brought news that created great excitement among the guards. It was early, and the sun had not yet driven the people under cover. Agrippina and Psyche were sitting on the rocks not far from the house.
“Go, my Psyche! See what has caused such excitement among the men!” said Agrippina.
Psyche hastened to the landing and inquired what tidings had come from Rome. She heard the story of the soldiers, and at first stood still, not daring to return to her mistress. Agrippina, seeing her hesitate, arose and went to meet her. At the sight of Agrippina coming towards her, Psyche hastened to her side.
“What has happened, my child?” Agrippina quickly asked.
“I can tell thee better in thy room, O my lady,” said Psyche, with pathetic calmness.