now really
a negligible military factor, and the war was practically over. The
tidings fell on Cornelia's soul like lead. She knew perfectly well
that the defeat of the Caesarians would mean the death of Quintus
Drusus. Her uncle and the Domitii, father and son, would be all
powerful, and they never forgave an enmity. As for herself--but she
did not think much thereon; if Drusus was slain or executed, she
really had very little to live for, and there were many ways of
getting out of the world. For the first time since the memorable night
of the raid on Baiae, she went about with an aching heart. Fabia, too,
suffered, but, older and wiser, comforted Cornelia not so much by what
she might say, by way of extending hopes, as by the warm, silent
contact of her pure, noble nature. Monime and Berenice were grieved
that their friends were so sad, and used a thousand gentle arts to
comfort them. Cornelia bore up more bravely because of the
sympathy--she did not have to endure her burden alone, as at Rome and
Baiae; but, nevertheless, for her the days crept slowly.

And then out of the gloom came the dazzling brightness. A Rhodian
merchantman came speeding into the haven with news. "Is Caesar taken?"
cried the inquisitive crowd on the quay, as the vessel swung up to her
mooring. "Is Pompeius not already here?" came back from the deck. And
in a twinkling it was all over the city: in the Serapeium, in the
Museum, under the colonnades, in the factories, in the palace.
"Pompeius's army has been destroyed. The Magnus barely escaped with
his life. Lucius Domitius is slain. Caesar is master of the world!"

Never did the notes of the great water-organ of the palace sound so
sweet in any ears as these words in those of the Roman ladies. They
bore with complacency a piece of petty tyranny on the part of
Pothinus, which at another time they would have found galling indeed.
Report had it that Cleopatra had gathered an army in Syria, and the
eunuch, with his royal puppet, was going forth to the frontier town of
Pelusium, to head the forces that should resist the invasion. Cornelia
and Fabia were informed that they would accompany the royal party on
its progress to the frontier. Pothinus clearly was beginning to fear
the results of his "honourable entertainment," and did not care to
have his guests out of his sight. It was vexatious to be thus at his
mercy; but Cornelia was too joyous in soul, at that time, to bear the
indignity heavily. The