e litter, and Sergius, entering it, was
borne swiftly through the gate, on, between the tall houses that backed
up against the hills, turning soon to the left into the New Way; on,
past the altar of Hercules in the cattle market, past the Temple of
Vesta, along the Comitia, and into the Sacred Way by the front of the
Curia. Thence they swung westward to the Roman Gate, the gate in the
ancient Wall of the City of Romulus that fenced the Palatine alone,--a
stately entrance, now, to the residence portion of the city most
favoured by the great families. Near by stood the house that marked
the ending of the journey, bustling with its slaves and bright with a
hundred lamps; while the physician, an old freedman of the tribune's
father, stood upon the threshold to greet and care for his late
master's son.

Gravely shaking his head at the discouraging aspect of the invalid and
muttering to himself in Greek, for he was born in Rhodes, he led the
way back to the great hall between the peristyle and the garden.

"Here, master," he said, "I have caused your couch to be laid, at the
moment I learned of your arrival and condition. You observe, the air
and light will be better than in your apartment, and the space better
calculated for those whose duty it shall be to minister to you, until
the divine Aesculapius and Apollo's self unite to grant success to my
efforts."

"It is well, Agathocles," said Sergius, wearily, "and I thank you."

His voice seemed to die away with the last words, and a sort of stupor
fell over him. Agathocles watched him closely, as he lay upon the
couch, noted the heavy breathing, and drew his brows together with a
deep frown. Behind him a group of the household slaves whispered
together and cast frightened glances, now at their master, now at the
disciple of the healing art; for Sergius had been brought up among
them, and the terms of their service were neither heavy nor harsh.
Then the surgeon set to work examining the shoulder, nodding his head
to observe that the bone had been replaced in its socket, but waxing
troubled again over the inflammation and swelling that told the story
of torn tendons and blood-vessels too long neglected, and of the
hardships of the journey. Slaves were sent scurrying, in this
direction and that, to compound lotions and spread poultices, while
Agathocles himself proceeded to the ostentatious mixing of some cooling
draught calculated to ward off, if possible, the fever th