se, forced to an unnatural
size by cramming the unhappy bird with figs; and turbot fricasseed in
cream, and peacocks stuffed with truffles, were on the board of Catiline
that day, as on the boards of many another noble Roman; and the wines by
which these rare dainties were diluted, differed but little, as wisest
critics say, from the madeiras and the sherries of the nineteenth century.
For so true is it, that under the sun there is nothing new, that in the
_foix gras_ of Strasburg, in the _turbot a la creme_, and in the _dindons
aux truffes_ of the French metropolis, the gastronomes of modern days have
only reproduced the dishes, whereon Lucullus and Hortensius feasted before
the Christian era.

The day passed pleasantly to all, but to Paullus Arvina it flew like a
dream, like a delirious trance, from which, could he have consulted his
own will, he would never have awakened.

With the dessert, and the wine cup, the myrtle branch and the lute went
round, and songs were warbled by sweet voices, full of seductive thoughts
and words of passion. At length the lamps were lighted, and the women
arose to quit the hall, leaving the ruder sex to prolong the revel; but as
Lucia rose, she again pressed the fingers of Arvina, and whispered a
request that he would see her once more ere he left the house.

He promised; but as he did so, his heart sank within him; for dearly as he
wished it, he believed he had promised that which would prove impossible.

But in a little while, chance, as he thought it, favored him; for seeing
that he refused the wine cup, Catiline, after rallying him some time, good
humoredly said with a laugh, "Come, my Arvina, we must not be too hard on
you. You have but a young head, though a stout one. Curius and I are old
veterans of the camp, old revellers, and love the wine cup better than the
bright eyes of beauty, or the minstrel's lute. Thou, I will swear it,
wouldst rather now be listening to Lucia's lyre, and may be fingering it
thyself, than drinking with us roisterers! Come, never blush, boy, we were
all young once! Confess, if I am right! The women you will find, if you
choose to seek them, in the third chamber on the left, beyond the inner
peristyle. We all love freedom here; nor are we rigid censors. Curius and
I will drain a flagon or two more, and then join you."

Muttering something not very comprehensible about his exertions in the
morning, and his inability to drink any more, Paullus arose, del