Part 13 (2/2)

Taurus Antinor hath the ear of the plebs. Doth suggest, O Hortensius, that he also hath the ear of Dea Flavia Augusta?”

He had shot this arrow into the air, little guessing how hard and truly it would hit.

Hortensius was making vigorous efforts to curb his temper, biting his lips until tiny drops of blood slowly trickled down his chin. But he felt that the mocking eyes of his host were upon him, and had just a sufficiency of reason left in him to see through the machinations of Caius Nepos. He would not hold himself up to ridicule now before those who should prove his strong supporters in the future; his proposal had not yet been put to the vote, and he did not mean to alienate his adherents by an insane show of maniacal rage.

”Of that,” he said in response to his host's taunt, and in a voice quivering with the mighty effort of control, ”of that there is but little fear. The Augusta is too proud to look with favour on a stranger; as for me, I would sooner ask Escanes to plunge his dagger in my throat than I would serve the Empire under the Caesars.h.i.+p of Taurus Antinor.”

”Thou canst record thy vote as thou thinkest best,” said Caius Nepos with calm urbanity. And those who were sufficiently sober nodded approval with solemn gravity.

”Nay,” here interposed Marcus Ancyrus with stern reproof, ”before we begin to vote let us be agreed on one point: let us be prepared to swear by the G.o.ds that we will adhere truly and loyally to the choice of the majority--and if, as meseems is likely, we agree that the unknown future husband of Dea Flavia Augusta become the ruler of us all, then must we swear to proclaim him the Caesar with one accord, else doth our voting become a mere farce. Friends, before ye vote, are you ready to take this oath?”

”Aye! aye!” came from almost every mouth round the table. But they nodded like automatons, with heavy heads that rolled on bowed shoulders and blurred eyes half-hidden behind closing lids.

”I'll not swear allegiance to Taurus Antinor,” persisted Hortensius obstinately.

”Dost think it likely that the Augusta favours him?” asked the host ironically.

”No--but----”

”Then what hast thou to fear?”

”As for me,” interposed young Escanes in a thick voice broken by hiccoughs, ”I am ready to swear as Marcus Ancyrus directs. If we are not satisfied with the new Caesar, whoever he may be, my dagger will not rust in the meanwhile; I can easily whet it again.”

Even as these last cynical words left the young man's lips there came from outside the noise of much shouting and shuffling of naked feet, and anon the sound of a voice, loud and harsh, asking for leave to speak with the praetorian praefect. Caius Nepos paused, tablets in hand.

Strangely enough the voice, though well-known, seemed to have a sobering effect on all these ebullient tempers. Marcus Ancyrus, who was the most calm among them all, threw a quick glance of inquiry on his host, one or two furtive glances were exchanged, a look that was half-ashamed crept into some of the faces, and there were hurried, whispered calls to the slaves to bring the bags of ice.

Quickly the tunics were re-adjusted and an attempt made at re-establis.h.i.+ng some semblance of decorum round the table. Caius Nepos was giving hastily whispered directions to the waiting-maids.

”Pull that coverlet straight, quick!” he ordered, ”and those cus.h.i.+ons, pick them off the ground ... that broken vase, set it aside.... There!

try and hide that wine stain with a fresh cloth.”

And all the while rapid, eager questions flew from mouth to mouth.

”Wilt tell him at once, O Caius Nepos?”

”Or wilt ply him with wine first?”

”'Twere safer.”

”Nay! nay!” said Escanes, whose wrists and ankles were being bathed, ”that would take too long. Taurus Antinor hath a strong head, and I, for one, could not keep sober another half-hour.”

”Dost know if he is at one with us?” was the query that came from every side.

Hortensius Martius alone had remained silent. He did not call either for water or for ice. It was his hatred that had sobered him, making the lines of his face set and hard, causing the flush to die from his cheeks and leaving them ashy pale.

”Dost know if he is at one with us?” reiterated Augustus Philario impatiently.

He had ordered a slave to hold lumps of ice to his forehead, whilst Philippus Decius--lying next to him--was having perfume rubbed into the back of his neck.

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