that we are some
victorious hero, some Perseus, especially favoured by the gods to fare
scatheless over land and sea, and bear away the Medusa's head, and
live renowned and happy forever." The reverie was becoming deeper and
deeper; the Roman was beginning no longer to whisper merely to
himself, he was half declaiming; then of a sudden, by a quick
revolution of mind, he broke short the thread of his monologue.
"_Phui!_ Caius, you are ranting as if you were still a youth at
Rhodes, and Apollonius Molo were just teaching you rhetoric! Why has
no letter come from Curio to-day? I am anxious for him. There may have
been a riot. I hadn't expected that those excellent 'Optimates' would
begin to murder tribunes quite so soon. The carrier is late!" and the
general moved away from the window, and took from a cupboard a package
of tablets, which he ran over hastily. "Here are the despatches of
yesterday. None to-day. I fear the worst." The brow of the solitary
speaker grew darker. "Poor Curio, poor Antonius; if they've dared to
murder them, let them tremble. I could forgive a mortal enemy to
myself, but not one who had slaughtered a friend."

[123] The ancient curtain (_aulaeum_) had its roller at the bottom.

There were steps in the court below, and voices were raised. In an
instant the general's eyes were kindled, his frame on a poise. He
sprang to the window, and shouted down the dark court.

"Curio! Do I hear you speaking?"

"_Salve!_ Caesar. It is I!"

"Venus be praised!" and the proconsul, with almost undignified haste,
was running out upon the stairs to meet his friend. "Has the city
broken out? Has Antonius been murdered? Is the truce at an end? Are
you alone?"

And Curio, who did not quite possess his leader's ability to "do all
things at the same time," answered in a breath: "The city so far keeps
tolerable order. Antonius is safe. The consuls and Senate still keep
the peace; but so poorly that I thought it my duty to come to you and
say things that cannot go in a letter."

"And who is this young man with you?"

"My friend," said Curio, turning to his companion, "is Quintus Livius
Drusus, of whom I have had occasion to write no little."

The proconsul sprang forward and seized Drusus by both hands, and
looked him fairly in the eye.

"_Papae!_ I see Sextus Drusus once more, the best tribune in his
legion, and my dear friend. Your face should be cause for your
welcome, if nothing else. Ah! how much we shall