As he lightly walked along, he began to wonder what could be the import of the frequent communications that passed between Livilla and Sejanus. Here was an opportunity to satisfy his curiosity. The desire to read Livilla’s reply began to possess him. He checked it by his stern sense of honor. But the probability that Livilla might have written about his forwardness in kissing her hand stimulated his curiosity. He decided to look inside, even if he did not read the words. He quickly opened the letter and glanced inside. As quickly he closed it; but the swiftness of his motion did not prevent him from reading the words, “Lygdus is a good man to do the deed. Come and see me.” New thoughts now rushed through his mind. At last he had learned a secret, a thing against which his father had always warned him. He would have liked to tear the words from his mind, but they were as indelibly fixed there as if carved in stone. Lygdus, the leering eunuch, whom Gannon knew and despised, was to commit a secret deed,--perhaps a crime. Gannon trembled. So uncertain was the condition of his mind that he dared not return immediately to the camp. He went instead to the Forum of Augustus. Before the beautiful statues of the great Roman generals and heroes in the shadow of the wonderful temple of Mars, he became calmer. But questions shrouded in mystery still presented themselves to him. “Why had Livilla chosen the wicked Lygdus to do some dark deed? Were Sejanus and Livilla lovers? Did their letters contain a plan to rid them of a hateful rival?” he asked himself. In the camp he remembered to have heard the soldiers say that one day Drusus struck Sejanus in the face. Sejanus, he had been told, had never forgotten that insult. But after carefully weighing the perplexing questions, Gannon decided that carrying letters was his duty, no matter what they contained. Still he wished he had left Livilla’s reply unread. When he reached the camp and handed her letter to Sejanus, he had regained his usual composure. “Where is the seal?” immediately demanded Sejanus. “It was not sealed, my lord,” Gannon replied, with nervous haste. “Hast thou read the letter?” he imperiously asked. “Nay, my lord.” “It is of little importance,” said Sejanus, closely watching Gannon’s face. “Hereafter every communication carried to or from me must bear a seal. The failure to observe this rule will cost more than a dismissal. Go to thy room. Speak to no one. Wait until I send for thee.” Gannon walked slowly from the room. A sudden impulse came over him to return and confess to Sejanus that he had read the letter; but at that moment he was prevented by the entrance of another secretary, who handed a letter to Sejanus. With a heavy heart Gannon went along the corridor outside of the office, and slowly mounted the flight of steps that led to his room. When he arrived there, he threw himself upon his couch and buried his face in his hands.