e wiles of those bred to
craft and trickery! See, too, how the consuls have followed the same
dilatory measures, and can you doubt that it is all by agreement with
these traitor nobles? Know well, now, that this war will have no
ending until a man of the people ends it--a real plebeian; a new man.
See you not that both consuls, by tarrying with the army, have set up
an interregnum, that the wicked nobles may the better influence your
choice? But if you be true Romans, such as were those who camped upon
the Sacred Hill, you will remember that one consulship, at least, is
yours by law, and you will elect a man to fill it who is one of
yourselves and who will spurn the rich, as they now seek to spurn you
and me and all good men."

Sergius had listened to this harangue, and to the applause which
greeted it, with mingled feelings of indignation and sorrow--sentiments
to which was added surprise when he noted through the closed curtains
of his litter that several patricians passed by and smiled and nodded
to the speaker while he poured forth his diatribes. Now, however, a
new commotion seemed to agitate the throng, who, turning suddenly, ran
pell-mell in one direction, almost overturning the litter--a
catastrophe from which it was only saved by a vigorous use of the
bearers' staves upon the heads of the nearest.

Sergius thrust aside the curtains and half raised himself to see the
cause of the disturbance. The brightly fullered gown of a candidate
flashed before his eyes, and then he recognized Varro standing upon a
silversmith's counter, smiling this way and that, grasping the hands of
those nearest, kissing his own to the very outskirts of the mob, and
all the while crying out, to the promptings of his nomenclator:
"Greeting to you, Marcus!" "Health, Quintus!" "Commend me to your
brother, my Caius--yes, to be sure--when he shall return from the army.
Ah! friends, when I am consul, there will be a hasty returning from
such foolish wars. You shall see the African fork-bearers winding
through the Forum."

"And that is the first word of truth I have heard from you, Varro, or
from your Herennius here," cried Sergius, who had risen and now stood,
pale and gaunt, beside his litter. "With you and such as you to
command, we may well look to see the African fork-bearers winding
through the Forum--yes, and pillaging amid its ruins."

A roar of vituperation drowned whatever answer the candidate might have
made, as, with b