“Oh! my lord,” answered the steward, “because all who have come home from the war declared that you had vanished away during the siege of the city of the Jews, and that you must either be dead or taken prisoner. Now I knew well that you would never disgrace your ancient house, or your own noble name, or the Eagles which you serve, by falling alive into the hands of the enemy. Therefore, I was sure that you were dead.” Marcus laughed bitterly, then turning to Nehushta, said: “You hear, woman, you hear. If such is the judgment of my steward and freedman, what will be that of Cæsar and my peers?” Then he added, “Now, Stephanus, that what you thought impossible—what I myself should have thought impossible—has happened. I was taken prisoner by the Jews, though through no fault of mine.” “Oh! if so,” said the old steward, “hide it, my lord, hide it. Why, two such unhappy men who had surrendered to save their lives and were found in some Jewish dungeon, have been condemned to walk in the Triumph this day. Their hands are to be tied behind them; in place of their swords they must wear a distaff, and on their breasts a placard with the words written: ‘I am a Roman who preferred dishonour to death.’ You would not wish their company, my lord.” The face of Marcus went first red, then white. “Man,” he said, “cease your ill-omened talk, lest I should fall upon my sword here before your eyes. Bid the slaves make ready the bath and food, for we need both.” “Slaves, my lord? There are none here, save one old woman, who attends to me and the house.” “Where are they then?” asked Marcus angrily. “The most part of them I have sent into the country, thinking it better that they should work upon your estates rather than live here idle, and others who were not needed I have sold.” “You were ever careful, Stephanus.” Then he added by an afterthought, “Have you any money in the house?” The old steward looked towards Nehushta suspiciously and seeing that she was engaged with the horses out of earshot, answered in a whisper: “Money? I have so much of it that I know not what to do. The strong place you know of is almost full of gold and still it comes. There are the rents and profits of your great estates for three years; the proceeds of the sale of slaves and certain properties, together with the large outstanding amount that was due to my late master, the Lord Caius, which I have at length collected. Oh! at least you will not lack for money.” “There are other things that I could spare less readily,” said Marcus, with a sigh; “still, it may be needed. Now tie up those horses by the fountain, and give us food, what you have, for we have ridden these thirty hours without rest. Afterwards you can talk.”