father' and 'saviour,'
surrendered his equal command, after having directed his soldiers,
also, to greet the others as patrons--"

"That, at least, was well done," said Sergius, nodding; "worthy of a
man better born than Minucius. I do him honour for learning from
experience. Metilius or Varro could not have done it."

"And, now," continued Agathocles, "both the dictator and the
master-of-the-horse have given up their commands, the time of their
appointments expiring, and the army is in winter quarters under the
consuls."

"Servilius and Atilius?"

"Truly."

"And the elections?"

"Are falling due."

"Who sue for the consulship?"

Agathocles hesitated and placed his fingers upon the patient's pulse.

"I have told you enough for the day--"

"Who are candidates?" reiterated Sergius, leaning forward impatiently.

"They say that Varro--" began Agathocles.

But the tribune had sprung to his feet. Then, as he swayed a moment
from weakness, leaning back against the couch, he raised both hands and
cried out:--

"Have they gone mad? The butcher's son!--the bearer of his father's
wares, to command against Hannibal! Do you think the Carthaginian a
bullock to stand still and stupid, while this soldier of the shambles
swings the axe? Gods! They will learn their error--only _we_ must pay
the price, together with the rabble that owe it. Gods! Was not the
lesson of Flaminius enough for these drinkers of vinegar-water? This
will be great news for them on the Megalia."

Then, seeming to gain strength from his excitement, he strode up and
down the atrium, while the physician watched him anxiously but without
venturing to interfere.

It was the doorkeeper's attendant that broke in upon the scene, pausing
a moment in doubt, as his eyes followed his master's rapid strides.
Finally, approaching Agathocles, he plucked him by the sleeve and
whispered:--

"The woman desires to know of the health of my lord."

Before the physician could answer, Sergius had caught the words, and,
wheeling about, faced the boy.

"What woman and where?" he asked.

"The gray stole; the slave woman who inquires for you. She waits her
answer at the door," said the boy, his tongue loosened by the question.

"Let her come to me," commanded Sergius, and he threw himself down upon
the deeply cushioned seat of a marble chair. Agathocles stood at his
elbow, with an expression of anxiety on his face, and, in a moment
more, the girl enter