ce. 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-establishing 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 cushions,
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 t