“Drusus!  Master Drusus!” Agias threw all his soul into the cry.  As if to blast his last hope, Drusus hastily bowed away the salves and aves of the two clients, turned, and went into the villa.  Agias groaned in agony.  A very few moments would bring Dumnorix to the villa, and the young slave did not doubt that Gabinius was with the lanista to direct the attack.  Agias tore at his chains, and cursed again, calling on all the Furies of Tartarus to confound the porter and Falto.  Suddenly before the loophole passed a slave damsel of winning face and blithesome manner, humming to herself a rude little ditty, while she balanced a large earthen water-pot on her head.  It was Chloe, whom the reader has met in the opening scene of this book, though Agias did not know her name.

“By all the gods, girl!” he cried frantically, “do you want to have your master slaughtered before your very eyes?”

Chloe stopped, a little startled at this voice, almost from under her feet.

“Oh, you, Master Assassin!” she sneered.  “Do you want to repeat those pretty stories of yours, such as I heard you tell last night?”

“Woman,” cried Agias, with all the earnestness which agony and fear could throw into face and voice, “go this instant!  Tell Master Drusus that Dumnorix and his gang are not a furlong[113] away.  They mean to murder him.  Say that I, Agias, say so, and he, at least, will believe me.  You yourself can see the sun gleaming on their steel as they march down the hill.”

  [113] About 606-3/4 English feet.

Perhaps it was the sight which Agias indicated, perhaps it was his earnest words, perhaps it was his handsome face—­Chloe was very susceptible to good looks—­but for some cause she put down the pot and was off, as fast as her light heels could carry her, toward the house.

II

Drusus had ridden hard to get back early from Lanuvium and write some letters to Cornelia, for he had expected that Agias would come on that very afternoon, on one of his regular, though private, visits; and he wished to be able to tell Cornelia that, so long a time had elapsed since he had been warned against Ahenobarbus and Pratinas, and as no attempt at all had been made on his life, her fears for him were probably groundless and the plot had been for some cause abandoned.  Drusus himself was weary, and was glad to shake off the little knot of clients and retire to his chamber, preparatory for a bath and a change of clothes.  He had seen Falto, but the latter deemed it best not to trouble his patron at the time by mentioning the prisoner.  Mago, too, concluded that it was best to defer executing his promise.  Drusus was just letting Cappadox take off his cloak, when the shrill voice of Chloe was heard outside the door, expostulating with the boy on guard.

“I must see the dominus at once.  It’s very important.”

“Don’t you see, you idiot, that you can’t while he’s dressing?”