of
Lucius Ahenobarbus; of the manner in which this last young man had
been induced to take steps to make way with an unfortunate rival.
Finally, in a low, half-audible tone, he told of the provisional
arrangements with Dumnorix, and how very soon the plan was to be put
in execution.

"And you must be sure and tell me," cried Valeria, clapping her hands
when Pratinas concluded, "what the details of the affair all are, and
when and how you succeed. Poor Quintus Drusus! I am really sorry for
him. But when one doesn't make use of what Fortune has given him,
there is nothing else to do!"

"Yes," said Pratinas, sententiously. "He who fails to realize what is
for him the highest good, forfeits, thereby, the right to life
itself."

Pisander slipped away from the keyhole, with a white face, and panting
for breath. Briefly, he repeated what he had gathered to Arsinoe, then
blurted out:--

"I will go in and meet that well-oiled villain face to face. By Zeus!
I will make him feel the depths of an honest man's scorn and
indignation!"

"You will be a fool," replied Arsinoe, quietly, "if you do. Valeria
would instantly dismiss you from her service."

"I will go at once to Drusus," asserted Pisander.

"Drusus may or may not be convinced that what you say is true,"
answered the girl; "but he, I gather from what you repeat, has just
gone back to Praeneste. Before you could reach Praeneste, you are a dead
man."

"How so?" demanded the excited philosopher, brandishing his fists. "I
am as strong as Pratinas."

"How little wisdom," commented Arsinoe, "you do gather from your
books! Can't you see Pratinas is a reckless scoundrel--with every
gladiator in Dumnorix's school at his call if needs be--who would stop
at nothing to silence promptly the mouth of a dangerous witness? This
isn't worse than many another case. Don't share the ruin of a man who
is an utter stranger! We have troubles enough of our own."

And with this consolation Arsinoe left him, again consumed with
impotent rage.

"Villain," fumed Pisander to himself, "if I could only place my
fingers round your neck! But what can I do? What can I do? I am
helpless, friendless, penniless! And I can only tear out my heart, and
pretend to play the philosopher. I, a philosopher! If I were a true
one, I would have had the courage to kill myself before this."

And in this mental state he continued, till he learned that Pratinas
had taken his farewell, and that Calatinus wish