But Gyges, usually buoyant and hopeful, soon subdued these despondent thoughts. He now argued that Sejanus was justified in questioning Gannon’s family. He began to believe that after a few days they would all be free. So occupied had he been in contemplation that he now remembered he had not dined; but notwithstanding his hunger he proceeded on his way to the Esquiline Hill. When he arrived before the grated entrance to the gardens of Drusus, he called to the gate-keeper, “What ho!” “What dost thou wish?” asked the gate-keeper, carrying a lantern as he approached the grating. In the dim light Gyges saw some slaves and litters outlined against the dark foliage of the garden. “I come to inquire of one named Lygdus,” he replied. “I know of no guest by that name.” “A guest?” asked Gyges, surprised. “Ay; there is a dinner in the palace this night,” replied the gate-keeper. “But Lygdus would not be a guest,” said Gyges. “A servant arrived this morning to act as cup-bearer. I know not his name,” replied the gate-keeper. “Tell me, O gate-keeper, was he short and stout, with a sleek face?” “Ay; he talked in a--” “The litter of Agrippina!” interrupted an excited voice from the palace. “The litter of Drusilla!” cried another voice. Hearing these orders, the gate-keeper abruptly ended his conversation. Gyges retreated to a wall opposite the iron grating. Other calls were now heard. Then there was a confusion of slaves as they marched up the path, carrying the litters on their shoulders. Shortly after, flickering through the trees, were seen lighted torches borne by slaves preceding their masters. As the gate-keeper swung open the gate, Gyges saw the excited faces of Nero and Drusus. Following them, Gyges recognized Claudius, who with heavy step and panting breath tried to keep up with them. One by one the litters were borne out. Finally a cry, “The emperor! The emperor!” was heard, and a gorgeous litter with drawn curtains and surrounded by a guard of soldiers passed down the path and through the entrance. Then there was a silence, broken only by a few stragglers who hastened to join those already departed. To one of these stragglers Gyges said, “A pardon for my boldness, but what has happened?” “A dire calamity!” “Some one is dead?” “Ay; my lord Drusus.” “The son of the emperor?” asked Gyges, astounded. “Ay; ’twas sudden! He died at dinner!” “May the gods be gracious to thee!” said Gyges, as he withdrew.