‘There are some powerful and wealthy people in the Subura, Caesar, and we cannot all choose the best spots therein.’ ‘Bandy no words. Do you know the maiden there by you?’ ‘Yes—no one better. She is the granddaughter of the noble Fabricius there.’ ‘How, then, came she to be living as the child of the woman your sister?’ ‘I took her secretly away from the mansion of her grandsire fifteen years ago, all but three months less a day. I have kept the reckoning carefully—ask the noble Fabricius if I am not right.’ ‘He has already told me this—he speaks truly, to the very day,’ said Fabricius. ‘Are you not afraid to confess this villainy?’ said Tiberius sternly. ‘It is because I wish to make the noble Fabricius some amends for the wrong, and for another reason, which all will soon understand.’ ‘Why did you tell the woman, your sister, that you took her from one Balbus, a wealthy man?’ ‘Because I did not choose to let out my secret and mention names—the time was not ripe then to bring the matter forward, and I was afraid it might be meddled with, and harm done instead of good. There was no such person as Balbus.’ ‘What do you mean by the time being not ripe? Had you seen or heard of her since you first left her in Surrentum?’ ‘Not once.’ ‘It may be concluded from that you cared nothing whether she were alive or dead during all that time—is that so?’ ‘Not so much as to take me to Surrentum to find out, I confess.’ ‘Then why, after all that long silence, did you resolve to go to Surrentum! Say, what was your reason in stealing the child and hiding it away for fifteen years in order to restore it again?’ ‘So please you, Caesar, the child was no more to me than any other, but she was of great importance to my patron, and he bargained and paid me seventy sestertia to secretly kill it. I was too soft‐hearted to make away with it altogether, so I took it to Surrentum quietly and unknown to him, and there she has remained till now, as you see.’ ‘And who is this patron?’ ‘He stands there before you—Titus Afer.’ ‘It’s a lie—a damnable lie!’ shouted the knight. ‘Dog! vagabond! whoever thou art, how darest thou say such a thing?’ His black eyes blazed amid the deathly pallor of his face, and a thrill of astonishment passed through the bystanders. Even Livia leaned forward in her seat with rapt attention. ‘Have a care,’ quoth Cestus, shrinking back, ‘or he will knife me again, as he did before.’ ‘Command yourself, Afer,’ said Tiberius drily; ‘you shall have plenty of opportunity to reply.’ ‘Am I to be traduced by such a villain, whom I never saw before? And in the face of these present? Do you, Fabricius, my uncle, whom I have served and loved as a son so long—do you countenance it in silence thus? Oh, monstrous! To be so gulled by a cunning knave after all that has been practised on you in the same fashion, and thus calmly to listen to such an outrage on your own flesh and blood—shame!’