ri yonder;
from one to the other and back again, through the purpled air,
his gaze would have sported; at last--for the eyes do weary of the
beautiful as the palate with sweets--at last it would have dropped
upon a spectacle which the modern tourist cannot see--half the
reserve navy of Rome astir or at anchor below him. Thus regarded,
Misenum was a very proper place for three masters to meet, and at
leisure parcel the world among them.

In the old time, moreover, there was a gateway in the wall at a
certain point fronting the sea--an empty gateway forming the outlet
of a street which, after the exit, stretched itself, in the form of
a broad mole, out many stadia into the waves.

The watchman on the wall above the gateway was disturbed, one cool
September morning, by a party coming down the street in noisy
conversation. He gave one look, then settled into his drowse
again.

There were twenty or thirty persons in the party, of whom the
greater number were slaves with torches, which flamed little
and smoked much, leaving on the air the perfume of the Indian
nard. The masters walked in advance arm-in-arm. One of them,
apparently fifty years old, slightly bald, and wearing over his
scant locks a crown of laurel, seemed, from the attentions paid
him, the central object of some affectionate ceremony. They all
sported ample togas of white wool broadly bordered with purple.
A glance had sufficed the watchman. He knew, without question,
they were of high rank, and escorting a friend to ship after a
night of festivity. Further explanation will be found in the
conversation they carried on.

"No, my Quintus," said one, speaking to him with the crown, "it is
ill of Fortune to take thee from us so soon. Only yesterday thou
didst return from the seas beyond the Pillars. Why, thou hast not
even got back thy land legs."

"By Castor! if a man may swear a woman's oath," said another,
somewhat worse of wine, "let us not lament. Our Quintus is but
going to find what he lost last night. Dice on a rolling ship is
not dice on shore--eh, Quintus?"

"Abuse not Fortune!" exclaimed a third. "She is not blind or
fickle. At Antium, where our Arrius questions her, she answers
him with nods, and at sea she abides with him holding the rudder.
She takes him from us, but does she not always give him back with
a new victory?"

"The Greeks are taking him away," another broke in. "Let us abuse
them, not the gods. In learning to trade they forgot