‘Ha! ha!’ laughed Cestus sarcastically; ‘much you know about the world and its people to say that! Do you think they will come and kneel down when you lift your finger? You have enough to bring you fortune if you go the right way to get it. The wrong way is to stay here and dabble, or, perhaps, let some one else worm your secret to better purpose. This is what you are bound to do. Go to Rome. Make a cup or vase, of the finest workmanship you can turn out. Then choose you out a great man, and show him your curiosity. The more people about him at the time, the better chance of being talked about. If the noble will buy your vase, so much the better. At any rate be assured that it shall have a place on his table. To effect all this is to bring success, if there is anything in your discovery at all. But, however, there is luck about all things. The best schemes, at times, fall flat—no one knows why, whilst the worthless send people crazy together. You must do your best and take your chance of the humour of the time. This is the way to push business—the only way—’tis done every day—pooh, man! If I knew what you know, and had your handicraft at my finger ends, should I stop here? Not I! I should be off into the world and tap a gold mine. Then, if it suited my fancy, in a few years come back to the old nest and build myself a palace.’ ‘Even with my plain, simple country ideas, Cestus, I think I have something of good sense beyond your own,’ said Masthlion quietly, at the end of his companion’s speech. ‘Really, in what way, kinsman?’ ‘In that I have not yet allowed my mind to measure the extent of my palace, or the worth of the gold mine that is to build it,’ said the potter grimly. ‘Ah!’ said Cestus, ‘but observe, I spoke only assuming you to be successful. If you haven’t enough faith in your own discovery to give you hope, then, of course, there is an end.’ ‘I have faith, and great faith! Else would I have toiled so long and wearily? Its worth is plain to the dullest sense; but when success comes, then it will be time to allow the mind to run riot. Nevertheless, Cestus, it may astonish you to know, that ere you spoke, I had already resolved on a plan of making my discovery known, which very much resembles the plan you advise—and without need of leaving my home.’ The Suburan shook his head. ‘Simple being as I am, I have already the idea that a good patron is necessary.’ ‘Of course.’ ‘Then, since that is settled, I have resolved that my patron shall be the most powerful of all—the ruler of the world, in fact. To‐morrow, if I can be ready, I will go and show the fruit of my labour for the approval of Caesar himself.’ ‘What—Caesar!’ cried Cestus, starting violently. ‘Caesar—Tiberius Claudius Nero Caesar,’ replied Masthlion, with a quiet smile at the blank amazement on the features of his companion.