Doris had not done speaking when Antinous came into the gate-house and delivered the commands of the architect Claudius Venator, to escort him through the city.  Pollux hesitated with his answer, for he had still much to do in the palace, and he hoped to see Arsinoe again in the course of the day.  After such a morning what could noon and evening be to him without her?  Dame Doris noticed his indecision and cried: 

“Yes, go; the festival is for pleasure, besides, the architect can perhaps advise you on many points, and recommend you to his friends.”

“Your mother is right,” said Antinous.  “Claudius Venator can be very touchy, but he can also be grateful, and I wish you sincerely well—­”

“Good then, I will come,” Pollux interposed while the Bithynian was still speaking, for he felt himself strongly attracted by Hadrian’s imposing personality and considered that under the circumstances, it might be very desirable to revel with him for a while.

“I will come, but first I must let Pontius know that I am going to fly from the heat of the fray for a few hours to-day.”

“Leave that to Venator,” replied the favorite, “and you must find some amusing disguise and procure masks for him and for me and, if you like, for yourself too.  He wants to join the revel as a satyr and I in some other disguise.”

“Good,” replied the sculptor.  “I will go at once and order what is requisite.  A quantity of dresses for the Dionysiac processions are lying in our workshop and in half an hour I will be back with the things.”

“But pray make haste,” Antinous begged him.  “My master cannot bear to be kept waiting, and besides—­one thing—­”

At these words Antinous had grown embarrassed and had gone quite close up to the artist.  He laid his hand on his shoulder and said in a low voice but impressively: 

“Venator stands very near to Caesar.  Beware of saying anything before him that is not in Hadrian’s favor.”

“Is your master Caesar’s spy?” asked Pollux, looking suspiciously at Antinous.  “Pontius has already, given me a similar warning, and if that is the case—­”

“No, no,” interrupted the lad hastily.

“Anything but that; but the two have no secrets from each other and Venator talks a good deal—­cannot hold his tongue—­”

“I thank you and will be on my guard.”

“Aye do so—­I mean it honestly.”  The Bithynian held out his hand to the artist with an expression of warm regard on his handsome features and with an indescribably graceful gesture.  Pollux took it heartily, but dame Doris, whose old eyes had been fixed as if spellbound on Antinous, seized her son’s arm and quite excited by the sight of his beauty cried out: 

“Oh! what a splendid creature! moulded by the gods! sacred to the gods!  Pollux, boy! you might almost think one of the immortals had come down to earth.”

“Look at my old woman!” exclaimed Pollux laughing, “but in truth friend, she has good reasons for her ecstasies, I could follow her example.”