faculty
of concealing any thing he had heard, or even of dissembling his own
crimes; and Catiline was not one to overlook or mistake so palpable a
weakness.

But the truth was, that knowing his man thoroughly, he was aware that,
with the bane, he bore about with him, in some degree, its antidote. For
so vast and absurd were his vain boastings, and so needless his
exaggerations of his own recklessness, blood-thirstiness, and crime, that
hitherto his vaporings had excited rather ridicule than fear.

The time was however coming, when they were to awaken distrust, and lead
to disclosure.

It was perfectly consistent with the audacity of Catiline--an audacity,
which, though natural, stood him well in stead, as a mask to cover deep
designs--that even now, when he felt himself to be more than suspected,
instead of avoiding notoriety, and shunning the companionship of his
fellow traitors, he seemed to covet observation, and to display himself in
connection with his guilty partners, more openly than heretofore.

But neither Lentulus, nor Vargunteius, nor the Syllae, nor any other of the
plotters had seen Curius, or could inform him of his whereabout. And, ere
they separated for the night, amid the crash of the contending elements
above, and the roar of the turbulent populace below, doubt, and almost
dismay, had sunk into the hearts of several the most daring, so far as
mere mortal perils were to be encountered, but the most abject, when
superstition was joined with conscious guilt to appal and confound them.

Catiline left the others, and strode away homeward, more agitated and
unquiet than his face or words, or anything in his demeanor, except his
irregular pace, and fitful gestures indicated.

Dark curses quivered unspoken on his tongue--the pains of hell were in his
heart already.

Had he but known the whole, how would his fury have blazed out into
instant action.

At the very moment when the Senate was so suddenly convoked on the
Palatine, a woman of rare loveliness waited alone, in a rich and
voluptuous chamber of a house not far removed from the scene of those
grave deliberations.

The chamber, in which she reclined alone on a pile of soft cushions, might
well have been the shrine of that bland queen of love and pleasure, of
whom its fair tenant was indeed an assiduous votaress. For there was
nothing, which could charm the senses, or lap the soul in luxurious and
effeminate ease, that was not there displayed.