‘All I want you to do now is to send and get to know, while I wait here, if my patron is in Rome and likely to be,’ proceeded Cestus. ‘I like to know where I have him, for I am going to take a holiday with a kinsman in Puteoli until I get strong again. The sea air will bring me round, and then I will return to pay attention to my worthy patron on the Esquiline.’ ‘Do you intend to knife him straight off?’ inquired the publican. ‘Humph! you are not very flattering,’ returned Cestus; ‘but haste, and let me have what I want to know, and along with it all the cash I left with you. I shall want all I can scrape together.’ The publican departed, and, in an hour, was back with what Cestus wanted. The latter stowed away his treasure safely in the breast of his tunic, and learned that his patron was in the island of Capreae, in the train of the Prefect. ‘And when returns?’ he demanded. ‘That is more than any one can tell,’ answered his banker. ‘Capreae is where Caesar dwells?’ ‘It is, brave Cestus—hast ever been there?’ ‘No; but it can be seen at times, like a speck, from Puteoli. He can’t stay there for ever.’ ‘Who—Caesar?’ ‘No, you fool—Afer.’ ‘Ah!’ ‘Well, I can bide my time,’ said Cestus, rising to go. ‘No one was ever worth much that could not. He may rest where he will until I am strong—and then!’ The Suburan shook his fist, and, bidding farewell to his friend, took his slow way homeward. With this daily increase of exercise his body began to gather something of its wonted firmness. His last excursion was down to the river bank, where he took passage in a regular trader to Puteoli. The vessel was to sail the following day, and Cestus took his farewell of his host with many expressions of gratitude. The voyage to Puteoli is not long, and in that most important centre of commerce Cestus remained two days. He stayed at a public inn, and, on the evening of the second day, he left the town after dark, and took his way toward Neapolis. ‘Good!’ he muttered to himself, as he quitted the gates; ‘if any curious eyes have been watching me now they will be mystified. They may search Puteoli from end to end, and they will as soon find my kinspeople as myself;’ the said kinsfolk being, in fact, a mere fabrication as far as Puteoli was concerned.