But Corvinus, after getting over his first dismay, and having as speedily as possible another, though not so grand, a copy of the edict affixed, began better to see the dismal probabilities of serious consequences from the wrath of his imperial master. The Dacian was right: _he_ would have to answer for the loss. He felt it necessary to do something that very day, which might wipe off the disgrace he had incurred, before again meeting the emperor’s look. He determined to anticipate the attack on the cemetery, intended for the following day. He repaired, therefore, while it was still early, to the baths, where Fulvius, ever jealously watchful over Torquatus, kept him in expectation of Corvinus’s coming to hold council with them. The worthy trio concerted their plans. Corvinus, guided by the reluctant apostate, at the head of a chosen band of soldiers who were at his disposal, had to make an incursion into the cemetery of Callistus, and drive, or drag, thence the clergy and principal Christians; while Fulvius, remaining outside with another company, would intercept them and cut off all retreat, securing the most important prizes, and especially the Pontiff and superior clergy, whom his visit to the ordination would enable him to recognize. This was his plan. “Let fools,” he said to himself, “act the part of ferrets in the warren; I will be the sportsman outside.” In the meantime Victoria overheard sufficient to make her very busy dusting and cleaning, in the retired room where they were consulting, without appearing to listen. She told all to Cucumio; and he, after much scratching of his head, hit upon a notable plan for conveying the discovered information to the proper quarter. Sebastian, after his early attendance on divine worship, unable, from his duties at the palace to do more, had proceeded, according to almost universal custom, to the baths, to invigorate his limbs by their healthy refreshment, and also to remove from himself the suspicion, which his absence on that morning might have excited. While he was thus engaged, the old _capsararius_, as he had had himself rattlingly called in his ante-posthumous inscription, wrote on a slip of parchment all that his wife had heard about the intention of an immediate assault, and of getting possession of the holy Pontiff’s person. This he fastened with a pin or needle to the inside of Sebastian’s tunic, of which he had charge, as he durst not speak to him in the presence of others.