‘I will risk the sea and the wind—I fear them not!’ ‘Possibly; but it is otherwise with those whose business it would be to transport you to the opposite shore. Nor would I consent for one moment to the hazard—and though a feeble old man, I am obeyed somewhat.’ ‘No one shall run any hazard for me, if it come to that. I will pay any fisherman the cost of his boat twice over, and go myself.’ Tiberius suffered an expression of admiration to gleam on his face as the deep colour flushed in her cheeks, and the mettle sparkled in her eyes. ‘Permit me, fair Plautia!’ said he, stepping forward and raising her hand to his lips; ‘what have I lost in not knowing you before? What so delightful to aging eyes as the spectacle of youth and beauty and high spirit? Doubly grateful to me the assurance, that the spirit of my people will hardily live and flourish. ’Tis such women as you who have nourished the masters of the world, and with such as you left behind me, I may die in the comforting knowledge that dominion will not leave them. But to cross those miles of stormy water alone! Ah, it is wonderful courage—it conquers me! But it cannot be—it is madness! Were I to allow it I would esteem myself your murderer. No, no, you must live, and be the mother of heroes!’ ‘It is imperative that I return home immediately, and I entreat that you will not seek to detain me,’ said Plautia, with fierce rage eating her heart. ‘It remains a marvel to us how you came to land here without the fact being duly reported,’ said Tiberius, as if he were stone deaf; ‘it was a feat quite in accordance with your spirit, to be able to cheat the vigilance on which we pride ourselves. Can it be possible that you alighted in our midst as the soft goddess herself would do?’ ‘Had it been so, I would have retired in the same manner ere this,’ she replied, with scarcely veiled scorn. The Emperor laughed silently. ‘Thank heaven,’ he said, ‘which leaves you dependent on mortal means of locomotion like the rest of us, and so preserves your presence to us. I, myself, prefer warm flesh and blood to these airy immortals whom we never know, save in the fables of the poets. I leave you, therefore, for the present, lady, with the satisfaction that you cannot depart through the air. I am the richer in your acquaintance, which must be extended. Now that I have the assurance of my own eyes of your comfort, I will intrude no longer at present.’ ‘For that receive my thanks, Caesar,’ she cried, advancing, as he retired; ‘but circumstances make it impossible for me to remain—at all hazards I must quit the island.’ ‘To‐day it is quite impossible,’ returned Tiberius, gliding nearer the door; ‘to‐morrow, I am satisfied, your mind will be changed. Till then, farewell, fair Plautia!’