As an excuse for not appearing in time at the Agape, Castor had asserted that he had been engaged on his Master’s work elsewhere. That was true. He had been at the house of the timber merchant as we have seen, and he had been detained by Æmilius as he left it. This latter had been lying on his bed resting, whilst his garments were being dried. He had overheard what had passed in the room of the dying woman. When the bishop went forth, then Æmilius rose from his bed, cast the ample toga about him, and walked forth. He caught Castor as he descended to the water’s edge to be paddled away. After a short salutation, the young lawyer said: “A word with you, sir, if your time is as generously to be disposed of to a stranger as it is lavished on the poor and sick.” “I am at your service,” answered the bishop. “My name,” said the young man, “is Æmilius Lentulus Varo. My profession is the law. I am not, I believe, unknown in Nemausus, or at Arelate, where also I have an office. But you, sir, may not have heard of me—we have assuredly never met. Your age and gravity of demeanor belong to a social group other than mine. You mix with the wise, the philosophers, and not with such butterflies as myself, who am a ridiculous pleasure seeker—seeking and never finding. If I am not in error, you are Castor Lepidus Villoneos, of an ancient magisterial family in Nemausus and the reputed head of the Christian sect.” “I am he,” answered the bishop. “It may appear to you a piece of idle curiosity,” said the young man, “if I put to you certain questions, and esteem it an impertinence, and so send me away empty. But I pray you to afford me—if thy courtesy will suffer it—some information concerning a matter on which I am eager to obtain light. I have been in the apartment adjoining that in which the mother of the hostess lay, and I chanced—the partition being but of plank—to overhear what was said. I confess that I am inquisitive to know something more certain of this philosophy or superstition, than what is commonly reported among the people. On this account, I venture to detain you, as one qualified to satisfy my greed for knowledge.” “My time is at your disposal.” “You spoke to the dying woman as though she were about to pass into a new life. Was that a poetic fancy or a philosophic speculation?” “It was neither, it was a religious conviction. I spoke of what I knew to be true.” “Knew to be true!” laughed Æmilius. “How so? Have you traveled into the world of spirits, visited the _manes_, and returned posted up in all particulars concerning them?” “No. I receive the testimony from One I can trust.” “One! All men are liars. I knew a fellow who related that he had fallen into an epileptic fit, and that during the fit his spirit had crossed the Styx. But as he had no penny wherewith to pay the fare, I did not believe him. Moreover, he never told the story twice alike, and in other matters was an arrant liar.” “Whom would you believe?”