ind as a lad. Cappadox, his old body-servant, worshipped him.
I hope he will take the charge of the farm out of the steward's hands."

[3] A few years at the philosophy schools of that famous city were
almost as common to Roman students and men of culture as "studying
in Germany" to their American successors.

"Here he comes!" cried Hasdrubal. "I can see him in the nearest
carriage." And then all four broke out with their salutation, "_Salve!
Salve, Domine!_"[4] "Good health to your lordship!"

[4] Master, "Lord" of slaves and freedmen.

A little way behind the outriders rolled a comfortable, four-wheeled,
covered carriage,[5] ornamented with handsome embossed plate-work of
bronze. Two sleek, jet-black steeds were whirling it swiftly onward.
Behind, a couple of equally speedy grey mules were drawing an open
wagon loaded with baggage, and containing two smart-looking
slave-boys. But all four persons at the treadmill had fixed their eyes
on the other conveyance. Besides a sturdy driver, whose ponderous
hands seemed too powerful to handle the fine leather reins, there were
sitting within an elderly, decently dressed man, and at his side
another much younger. The former personage was Pausanias, the freedman
and travelling companion[6] of his friend and patron, Quintus Livius
Drusus, the "Master Drusus" of whom the slaves had been speaking.
Chloe's sharp eyes scanned her strange owner very keenly, and the
impression he created was not in the least unfavourable. Drusus was
apparently of about two and twenty. As he was sitting, he appeared a
trifle short in stature, with a thick frame, solid shoulders, long
arms, and large hands. His face was distinctively Roman. The features
were a little irregular, though not to an unpleasant extent. The
profile was aquiline. His eyes were brown and piercing, turning
perpetually this way and that, to grasp every detail of the scene
around. His dark, reddish hair was clipped close, and his chin was
smooth shaven and decidedly firm--stern, even, the face might have
been called, except for the relief afforded by a delicately curved
mouth--not weak, but affable and ingenuous. Drusus wore a dark
travelling cloak,[7] and from underneath it peeped his tunic, with its
stripe of narrow purple--the badge of the Roman equestrian order.[8]
On his finger was another emblem of nobility--a large, plain, gold
ring, conspicuous among several other rings with costly settings.

[5] _Rheda_.