eyes, and called up before his mind the vision of Cornelia.  How beautiful she had been when he met her!  How much more beautiful when she thrust her way through the fighting slaves and put the sword in his hand, at that moment of mortal combat, which he expected to be his last!  Did he only love her because her face was sweet, her voice was sweet, and the touch of her hair was sweet?  Happy was he, her lover;—­he could say “no,” and have never a fear that his sincerity would be tested.  And Lucius Ahenobarbus?  He hated him with a perfect hatred.  A Roman who was no Roman!  A womanish man whom every true woman must despise!  A serpent who had not even the bright scales of a serpent!  What would he do to Cornelia?  Drusus’s face grew hard.  Had he, Drusus, yet done any injury worth mentioning to his enemy?  Why had he not used the moment when Lucius lay prostrate, and run the sword through his body?  Ill-timed, thoughtless mercy!  But the letters, the packet he had wrenched from Ahenobarbus’s hand?  Why was it so precious?  Drusus had flung it into the boat.  He took up the packet.  Doubtless some billet-doux.  Why should he degrade his mind by giving an instant’s thought to any of his enemy’s foul intrigues?  He could only open his eyes with difficulty, but a curiosity that did not add to his self-esteem overmastered him.  The seal!  Could he believe his senses—­the imprint of three trophies of victory?  It was the seal of Pompeius!  The instinct of the partisan and politician conquered every infirmity.  He broke the wax, untied the thread, and opened.  The letters were in cipher, and at first sight illegible.  But this did not present any insuperable difficulty.  Most classic ciphers were sufficiently simple to be solved without very much trouble.  Drusus knew that in all Caesar’s correspondence a cipher had been used which consisted merely of substituting for each letter the fourth letter beyond it, as D for A; and a little examination showed that the present cryptogram was made on the same rude method.  After a few guesses he struck the proper substitutions, and was able to read.

“Pompeius Magnus, Imperator, to the most excellent Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus, Rome, tenth day before the Calends of January.  If it is well with you, it is well; I am well.[134] I write to warn you that we are told that Quintus Drusus, your personal enemy and the friend of our own foes, is in Campania.  We need not add more, for we trust to you to see to it that he stirs up no faction in favour of his master in those parts.  Be assured that you will not be long troubled by this enemy.  He is marked out as one of the earliest of those to pay with their lives for their conspiracy against the Republic.  If possible see that Drusus is seized for some alleged offence, and lodged in prison until the new consuls come into office.  After that time he can work little or no mischief.  Use the uttermost endeavours in this matter; check him and his schemes at all hazards.  I trust your energy and prudence, which your father and Lentulus Crus assure me will not fail. Vale!”