Part 59 (1/2)

”You did with all save this man, who got away,” was his unflinching answer. ”Although in mercy you strangled all your captors before you had them put on the crosses.”

”_Hei!_” quoth the Imperator. ”I should have spared them to give me criticism of those verses now.”

”Kyrios,” rejoined Demetrius, ”the man who survived a.s.sures me that the verses at least were wretched, though your excellency was a very good wrestler.”

”_Euge!_ Bravo!” cried Caesar, and all the company joined in. ”I must take a few of your men back to Rome, for we need critics for our rough Latin versifiers.”

Drusus, as soon as the laugh pa.s.sed away, arose, and addressed his chief:--

”Imperator,” he said, ”Agias this morning dragged from off the mole with him into the water one of the most dangerous men in the councils of our enemies. I mean, as you know, Pratinas the Greek. He is now in the palace prison, but every one is aware that, so long as he so much as lives, we are hardly safe. What shall be done?”

Caesar frowned.

”This is hardly a basilica for a trial,” he replied, ”but '_inter arma silent leges_.' Tell the centurions on guard to bring him here. I imagine we must grant him the form of an examination.”

Drusus went out to give the necessary orders.

”You did not see Agias's prisoner?” asked Cornelia of Demetrius, who was now an old friend.

”I did not,” answered the pirate prince, pouring down the contents of a prodigious beaker at a single draught. ”A very desperate man, I imagine. But it is hard for me to blame any one so long as he fights openly. Still,” he added, with a laugh, ”I mustn't express such sentiments, now that his excellency has given me this.” And he tossed over to Cornelia a little roll, tiny but precious, for it was a general pardon, in the name of the Republic, for all past offences, by land or sea, against the peace. ”_Babai!_” continued Demetrius, lolling back his great length on the couch, ”who would have imagined that I, just returning from a mere voyage to Delos to get rid of some slaves, should save the lives of my cousin, my benefactor's son, and Caesar himself, and become once more an honest man. G.o.ds! G.o.ds! avert the misfortunes that come from too much good fortune!”

”Was Agias badly wounded?” asked Cornelia, with some concern.

”Oh,” replied his cousin, ”he will do well. If his precious captive had thrust his dagger a bit deeper, we might have a sorry time explaining it all to that pretty little girl--Artemisia he calls her--whom he dotes upon. By the bye,” continued Demetrius, as entirely at his ease in the company as though he had been one of the world's high-born and mighty, ”can your ladys.h.i.+p tell me where Artemisia is just now? She was a very attractive child.”

”a.s.suredly,” said Cornelia. ”She is here in the palace, very anxious, I doubt not, about Agias. Come, I will send for her. You shall tell her all about his escape.”

Demetrius appeared pleased, and Cornelia whispered to a serving-lad, who immediately went out.

The tramp of heavy feet sounded on the mosaics outside the banqueting room; the tapestry over the doorway was thrust aside, and in the dim lamplight--for it had long been dark--two rigid soldiers in armour could be seen, standing at attention. Drusus stepped past them, and saluted.

”The prisoner is here, Imperator,” he said.

”Bring him in,” replied Caesar, laying down his wine-cup.

The curtain swayed again, and the rest of a decuria of troops entered.

In their centre was a figure whose manacles were clinking ominously.

In the uncertain light it was only possible to see that the prisoner was bent and s.h.i.+vering with fright. The general shrugged his shoulders in disgust.

”This is the sort of creature, Drusus,” quoth he, derisively, ”that is so dangerous that we must despatch him at once? _Phui!_ Let him stand forth. I suppose he can still speak?”

Pratinas made a pitiable picture. The scuffle and wetting had done little benefit to his clothes; his armour the pirates had long since appropriated; his hair, rather long through affectation, hung in disorder around his neck. He had shaved off his ”philosopher's” beard, and his smooth cheeks showed ugly scratches. He was as pale as white linen, and quaking like a blade of gra.s.s in the wind, the very ant.i.thesis of the splendid Ares of the fight on the mole.

”Your name is Pratinas?” began Caesar, with the snappish energy of a man who discharges a disagreeable formality.

”Yes, despotes,” began the other, meekly; but as he did so he raised his head, and the rays of one of the great candelabra fell full on his face. In a twinkling a shout, or rather a scream, had broken from Demetrius. The pirate had leaped from his couch, and, with straining frame and dilated eyes, sprang between the prisoner and his judge.

”Menon!” The word smote on the captive like the missile of a catapult.

He reeled back, almost to falling; his eyes closed involuntarily. His face had been pale before, now it was swollen, as with the sight of a horror.