‘The Prefect,’ continued the freedman, ‘so Lygdus told me, was only ill‐ pleased that Caesar would not allow more than two or three friends to accompany him, in addition to his usual guard of Pretorians. Tiberius seems mightily afraid of strangers in his enchanted island.’ ‘Perhaps the worthy Lygdus also informed you who the favoured few friends of the Prefect were to be? It might be interesting to know.’ ‘No, noble Plautia, he did not say who was going, except, of course, the guard of Pretorians, with the first Centurion—the tall young brother of Caius Martialis.’ ‘Ah! thus much you know for certain, Glaucus?’ said Plautia carelessly. ‘Yea, for Lygdus heard the order given.’ ‘Well, there cannot be any better authority than that, unless the Prefect change his mind.’ ‘Truly he might.’ ‘And so you cannot give me the names of the chosen companions of Sejanus?—they would be worth hearing,’ said Plautia. ‘Indeed I cannot, at present, for the eunuch knew not himself; but I might hear before long.’ ‘In that case you will let me know.’ ‘I shall fly, like a swallow, to acquaint you,’ was the answer of the devoted freedman. ‘You are rather thick and heavy with flesh and years to do that,’ observed the young lady satirically; ‘nevertheless, I am assured you will hasten on your legs as fast as you can. I am indebted to you for several favours lately, Glaucus——’ ‘The noble Plautia deigns to be gracious to her humble freedman,’ said he, smirking and bowing to the ground. ’See you that small drawer in the citron‐wood table? Open it—there is a purse within it!’ The freedman did as he was desired with alacrity, and took out the purse. ‘Transfer the contents to your own pocket and replace the purse,’ said Plautia. Glaucus did so with admirable celerity, and gushed into profuse expressions of gratitude. ‘Enough—you are a good man,’ said his patroness, nodding toward the door. He took the hint and withdrew, and after a few moments’ reflection, Plautia went to a writing‐table, and indited the following laconic epistle:— ‘Come and see me at your earliest.’ Sealing it up, she gave it into the hands of a slave, with instructions to deliver it to the Prefect himself, wheresoever he might find him. When the slave had gone she wrote another letter, which she destroyed as soon as she had read it over. She composed an amended one, which shared the fate of the former, and not until four or five had been ruthlessly sacrificed to her fastidious taste, did she succeed in completing one sufficiently satisfactory to her mind to fold up. It was put into a secret drawer, and its fair author proceeded to pass the hours with her usual occupations, which were mainly the reception of visitors, and the lengthy and elaborate business of the bath.