a
philosopher, should be quite reconciled."

Artemisia came back into the room, having completed the few simple
preparations.

"Now, my excellent sir," continued Agias, suiting his actions to his
words, "I will stand you on your feet--so. I will push you, still
bound, into this closet--so. I will pile furniture against the door,
so that, when you have worked clear of your bonds, as I imagine you
will in a few hours, even then you will not get out too quickly. And
now, as your dear Roman friends say, _Vale!_ We are off!"

Artemisia flung herself on the form of Sesostris, and covered the
black, ugly face with kisses.

"He's growing cold," she lamented. "What is the matter? I can't leave
him this way!"

But Agias did not dare to admit the least delaying.

"Dear Artemisia," he said, "we can't do anything for Sesostris. I will
explain to you by and by about him. He is not feeling cold now at all.
You must come at once with me. I will take you where Pratinas will
never touch you."

III

If Agias had been a trifle more reckless he would have cut short
Pratinas's thread of life then and there, and greatly diminished the
chance of unpleasant consequences. But he had not sunk so low as that.
Besides, he had already worked out in his versatile head a plan that
seemed practicable, albeit utterly audacious. Cornelia was at Baiae.
Cornelia owed him a great debt of gratitude for saving Drusus.
Cornelia might harbour Artemisia as a new maid, if he could contrive
to get his charge over the hundred long miles that lay between Rome
and Baiae.

In the street he made Artemisia draw her mantle over her pretty face,
and pressed through the crowds as fast as he could drag her onward.
Quickly as he might he left the noisy Subura behind, and led on toward
the Palatine. At length he turned in toward a large house, and by a
narrow alley reached a garden gate, and gained admission to the rear.
By his confident movements he showed himself familiar with the spot.
The dwelling, as a matter of fact, was that of Calatinus.

As Agias pushed open the gate, and led Artemisia into a little garden
enclosed with a high stone wall, he surprised a dapper-appearing young
slave-lad of about his age, who was lying idly on the tiny grass plot,
and indulging in a solitary game of backgammon.[129]

[129] _Duodecim scripta_.

"_Hem!_ Iasus," was Agias's salutation, "can you do an old friend a
favour?"

Iasus sprang to his feet, with eyes, nose,