Plautia smiled in lofty scorn, but the gravity of Zeno’s face was unmoved. ‘Say, then, what you have to say without further question,’ said she. ‘My master’s own lips bade me say that, having heard of your arrival, it was neither to his credit nor to his own satisfaction that so lovely and accomplished a visitor to the island of Capreae should be allowed to remain lodged in the hut of a husbandman,’ said Zeno, sweeping his hand and eyes round with an expression of disgust and contempt; ‘he therefore despatched me, at the earliest, with his greeting, and instructions to convey you to the villa Jovis, where you may command such attention as befits your position, until you think fit to bring your visit to Capreae to a close. May it please you, therefore, to attire yourself, that Caesar’s bidding may be fulfilled as quickly as possible, and that your gracious self may be rid of this vile place. The morning is stormy, but the rain has ceased, and a covered litter waits outside, in which the slaves will bear you under the shelter of the palace roof in but a few minutes.’ ‘You may return at once to the palace, and tell Tiberius that I thank him for the proffer of his hospitality,’ said Plautia, in the same calm, lofty manner; ‘but my stay in Capreae is so short that this cottage will amply suffice for my accommodation for the remainder of the time. I am no less grateful to him, however.’ The steward’s face assumed an expression of deeper gravity than ever—of palpable sorrow indeed. His fingers restlessly played with the hem of his cloak during a few moments of silent hesitation, and his eyes moved uneasily from one object to another, until at last they rested, with an appealing look, upon the face of Plautia herself. ‘To do as you tell me,’ he said,—‘to return to the palace, leaving you here, would prove my instant disgrace and ruin.’ ‘What have I to do with that? I sought not to have anything to do with you or your master.’ ‘I crave your pardon for speaking of my unworthy self,’ said Zeno humbly, in a lower tone. ‘It is indeed of little consequence what happens to me; but if Plautia will understand me, what I sought to impress upon her was, what she probably fully comprehends already, that Caesar’s word must be fulfilled at the cost of anything and everything if need be. I dare not return without you.’ ‘Which means that my desires were never meant to be consulted—that your orders were to take me, willingly or unwillingly,’ said Plautia disdainfully. ‘Why did you not deliver your mandate at once, without all this false mockery of deference?’