there is a subtle danger in it, for – ’
‘Nay, nay, uncle,’ said his nephew, laughing; ‘if you begin to moralise your dinner will grow cold. So I will go and tell you later how mine was served.’
‘Come then to see me soon, nephew – a good appetite. Farewell!’
Fabricius and his slaves turned to ascend the hill, and Afer watched them going. ‘Nothing will cure him of this delusive hope, it is clear,’ he muttered. ‘Assuming, therefore, that all this profitless expense is unavoidable, it is only just and prudent that it should flow mainly into the purse of his heir, and not into the swindling hands of scamps and aliens, in order to feed wine-shops and brothels. Hermes himself will give me witness that I spoke truth when I said that yon vagabond demanded two thousand sesterces ere he would budge. So he did, but he only got two hundred in the end. What a brilliant idea – what a stroke of genius it was, on my part, to obtain the monopoly of this infatuation! Formerly, every one of sufficient impudence could work upon his credulity, and extort their own terms from the foolish old man; but since my appointment as superintendent of inquiries, I regulate all to suit my own ideas. It pleases him and it benefits me. Who could do better? Not the deities themselves.’
‘But if your terms were more liberal your custom would increase, as well as your profits, noble Afer,’ said a deep voice in his ear.
The knight wheeled round with the swiftness of light, and the severity of the sudden surprise was seen in the rush of blood which suffused his otherwise pale face. His brows knitted so as almost to hide the furious glance of his eyes.
Before him stood a man whose superior bulk, lighter complexion, broader and less marked physiognomy, betrayed other than the Latin blood. He was dressed in the rough woollen tunic of the common citizen, girded with a belt of untanned leather, whilst his feet were shod with a kind of sandal, having strong leather soles. The short sleeves of his tunic displayed his hairy, muscular arms. His chin was bristly and needed the razor, and his hair unkempt and disordered. He might be anything in the lowest strata of the city community, but there was that in his loafing, cunning appearance, which seemed not to belong to an honest, industrious mechanic. His attitude, as he stood regarding his superior, whom he had so familiarly accosted, was cool and careless, and his smile as full of impertinence as assurance.
If a glance could have laid him dead upon the pavement, he would have fallen, straightway, before the rage, hate, and contempt which flashed upon him from the glowing eyes of Afer. But, unabashed, he altered not a jot of his bearing.
‘Is it thou?’ uttered Afer, in a voice thick with passion; ‘how darest thou lurk at my elbow and play the eavesdropper?’
‘It needed no extra sharp ear to catch what you said, patron. But for the noise of the streets you might have been heard somewhere between this and the Palatine. It is dangerous to think in such a loud, public voice, and I recommend you to shake off the habit, for your own good, patron.’
The familiar style of this speech in no way allayed the storm in the mind of the knight, and he shook like an aspen leaf, with a passion impossible wholly to hide.
‘You are not in the humour to see me, patron – you are angry with me,’ added the man coolly; ‘it is as plain as anything can be.’
‘Take heed, or your presumption, which is growing beyond all bounds, will run you into a certain amount of danger – impudent vagabond, is it for such as you to accost me thus? More respect, I bid thee, or beware!’
The menacing tone of the knight, and the dangerous, evil expression on his face, might have been judged sufficient warning in an ordinary case, but the man’s hardihood was in no way daunted.
‘Presumption, patron,’ he echoed; ‘there, with your honour’s leave, I must differ with you. I consider myself – in regard to the intimate relations between us – a most modest, respectful, and untroublesome client. Why, it is full three months since I presented myself to your honourable presence. I have seen you at chance times – for I am compelled now and again to encourage wearisome existence by the grateful sight of your person – but these have only been glimpses at a distance. Nor would I intrude myself upon you now, only that hard necessity compels me. In fact, patron, my treasure is drained to the last sesterce, which went this very morning to inspire my failing strength with a draught of vinegar, which they called wine.’
‘I have nothing to give you – you are importunate beyond reason. You have, already, had much more than was stipulated. That you know as well as I. I will give you no more, so be off!’
‘What, patron, and without as much as the cost of a mouthful of dinner? cast me off to starve?’ – this with a burlesque of righteous horror in his looks and gestures – ‘I, too, who have had the blessed fortune to do you such service! Some reptile has bitten my noble patron and changed his nature. Poor Cestus, then, may go and hang himself, or throw himself to fatten the pike in the Tiber; but no – you cannot, surely, refuse poor Cestus, thus empty and naked before you.’
‘Silence!’ cried he of the toga, as fiercely as he could, without attracting the attention of the passers-by. ‘Good-for-nothing spendthrift, you have had enough to have made you wantless for the remainder of your life, with an ordinary amount of care in its use!’
‘I only follow the fashion of many of my betters, patron. To be free with one’s treasure is an excellent way of becoming popular and powerful – none better – in Rome at least.’
‘Enough, I have said! If you are wise you will leave your insolence behind you, among your pot companions, when you seek to come before me.’
‘Surely, patron, when you consider the matter calmly, you can hardly refuse me a small present,’ said Cestus, assuming instantly a mock respect, which was only too palpably impudent.
The knight bit his lip, and the heaving of his breast stirred the folds of his toga with rapid pulsations.
‘You fool!’ he said bitterly; ‘do you imagine I would beggar myself to enrich you? No – I can afford no more!’
‘May I be cursed if I should ever think of bringing you to the same sad state as mine,’ was the satirical answer. ‘Far from that, I know, so well, that the fountain of your purse is fed from a stream which flows unfailing out of Latium, even as the grateful spray of Orpheus, on the Esquiline yonder, is fed by the aqueduct from the waters of heaven. You will excuse the style for once, patron: you know I was once in the household of a poet.’
These words drew upon him another viperous look, but being in a position which rendered him careless of such exhibitions of his superior’s feelings, he continued his simile. ‘It is wonderful to me, patron, that you are content to see such scanty driblets filtered through a worn old fountain, when you might, so easily, direct the full glorious flood straight to your own coffers. My devotion to your welfare is my only excuse for my tongue. But, patron – you are a most patient, enduring man.’
‘I am – of your insolence, you dog,’ was the rapid and burning answer. ‘A less enduring man would have had your ribs tickled, or your tavern cup flavoured long ere this, most noble Cestus.’
The man palpably changed colour and winced; but if the words of his patron had not the effect of quelling him, they instantly changed his easy impertinence and effrontery into a sullen, dogged front.
‘Come,’ growled he, with a dark, lowering visage, ‘if we get to threatenings, you shall find that two can play at that game. Give me some money and let me go – I must have it, and no more trifling!’
‘Good! If you must have it you must, and I cannot refuse,’ answered the knight, whose humour seemed as suddenly to change, as if in triumph, for he actually allowed a smile to part his lips. ‘I grieve that words of mine should have ruffled you. As I am not in the habit of carrying about with me such an amount of money as you will doubtless consider proper to ask, perhaps you will do me the favour to walk with me as far as my house, dear Cestus?’
Cestus hesitated, and looked doubtingly on the unexpected spectacle of his patron’s politeness. His cunning nature was suspicious.
‘What