Titus blushed; but the remark helped him out of a serious difficulty. He had thought in vain how he could avoid eating the bird which Onesimus had told him was poisoned. ‘After that remark,’ he answered, ‘of course I cannot touch it.’ ‘Then give it back to Britannicus,’ said the tutor. ‘Nay,’ said the prince; ‘if Titus is to be called greedy for liking it, I must be greedy too. I have had enough. Besides there is a taste about it which I do not like. Bread and a few olives are more than enough.’ He pushed away his plate, and when they had risen from the table, he looked curiously at his friend. Titus blushed again. ‘I know,’ he whispered, ‘that _you_ will not think me greedy, Britannicus.’ ‘Titus,’ he answered, ‘you know something.’ ‘Ask me nothing,’ said Titus; ‘I was only just in time, if, indeed, I have been in time.’ Britannicus was silent. He suspected that some attempt had been made upon his life, and that it had been partially frustrated by the faithfulness of his friend. He had no doubt on the subject, when, a little later, he was seized with violent pains. Happily, however, he had scarcely more than tasted of the beccafico, and in the fit of sickness which followed, nature came to his relief. His recovery was aided by the pure and glowing state of his health. After a few hours of excruciating agony he sank into a long refreshing sleep. He woke in the twilight, to find himself lying on a couch, while Octavia and Titus, sitting on either side of him, were rubbing his cold hands. ‘Where am I?’ he asked. ‘Oh, I remember!’ And he said no more; but he took the hand of Titus, and drew his sister near to him and kissed her. The hearts of all three were too full for words, but as they sat there a message came that the Augusta was coming to visit them.