vanished, either out of doors, or
behind some doorway or curtain. The company sat gazing uneasily at
each other for several minutes. The Magnus was breathing heavily, as
though he had passed through a terrible mental ordeal. Cato, the Stoic
and ascetic, had his eyes riveted on the carpet, and his face was as
stony as an Egyptian Colossus.

Then a coarse forced laugh from Piso broke the spell.

"Capital, Pompeius! You _are_ a favourite of the gods!"

"I?" ventured the Magnus, moving his lips slowly.

"Of course," cried several voices at once, catching the cue from Piso.
"You are the first in the world, Caesar the second! You are to rise to
new glories, and Caesar is to utterly fall!"

"The stars have said it, gentlemen," said Pompeius, solemnly; "Caesar
shall meet his fate. Let there be war."

* * * * *

Lentulus Crus rode away from the conference, his litter side by side
with that of Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus, the consular, whom we will
know as Domitius to distinguish from his son and namesake. Domitius, a
handsome, highly polished, vigorous, but none the less unprincipled
man, who was just reaching the turn of years, was in high spirits. No
oligarch hated Caesar more violently than he, and the decision of
Pompeius was a great personal triumph, the crowning of many years of
political intrigue. What Pompeius had said, he had said; and Caesar,
the great foe of the Senate party, was a doomed man.

Lentulus had a question to ask his companion.

"Would you care to consider a marriage alliance between the Lentuli
and the Domitii?" was his proposition.

"I should be rejoiced and honoured to have the opportunity," was the
reply; and then in another tone Domitius added, "Lentulus, do you
believe in astrologers?"

"I do not really know," answered the other, uneasily.

"Neither do I," continued Domitius. "But suppose the stars speak
truly; and suppose," and here his voice fell, "it is Caesar who is
highest in power, in ability, in good fortune;--what then for
Pompeius? for us?"

"Be silent, O prophet of evil!" retorted Lentulus, laughing, but not
very naturally.

Chapter VII

Agias's Adventure

I

Pisander's view of life became a score of shades more rosy when he
seized the hand of the handsome slave-boy, then embraced him, and
began praising the gods for preserving his favourite's life. Then the
worthy philosopher recollected that his wisdom taught him there were
n