“‘He spoke, and the dark-browed Kronion nodded assent![294]’” quoted Lucilia, going to a side door. “Baucis,” she called out, and gave her orders in a lower voice. Caius Aurelius, obeying Octavia’s glance of request, had already unrolled the book again, and he now began to read in a full and pleasant voice. In truth, the much-lauded Papius Statius might have been satisfied. He himself, a master in the art, could not have read his own poem better or more effectively. Quintus was astonished beyond words. What delightful tones, what various modulation, and above all what supreme intelligence of interpretation! and though Lucilia now and then struggled with a yawn, it was evidently from sheer physical fatigue, for it had been past midnight before she had gone to sleep. When Aurelius had got to the end of the second _canto_ of the poem, Quintus drank the remainder of his draught of mead and desired old Baucis to enquire in the atrium, whether Titus Claudius had not yet received the last of his morning visitors and, hearing that his father was alone, he took leave and hastened to the priest’s study. He found his father deep in work, even at his son’s greeting he only just raised his head. “Welcome,” said he without interrupting himself: “One moment, Quintus--” and his reed[295] went gliding on over the yellow paper. Then he laid it across a little metal rest and rose. “You find me dreadfully busy, my dear Quintus,” he said affectionately. “Hardly am I left apparently in peace, when I am overwhelmed with a mass of work, that will bear no delay. I must take advantage of every minute, for a decision on the great question of the day is now imminent.” “I am sorry for that, father, for I came to you as a petitioner.” “Speak on,” said the Flamen smiling. “I must find time for my son.” “Thank you very much, but I fear that my petition may be too trivial, to engage your interest at this moment.” “Nay, so much the better. Small matters need few words. Speak plainly and at once.” “You know,” Quintus began, going a step nearer, “that the Empress’s steward Stephanus is in pursuit of a slave....” “Yes, I know,” said the priest frowning: “A criminal, who was forcibly set free by some unknown hand. All Rome is horrified at such unheard-of atrocity.” “It is certainly unheard of, that such an attempt should succeed. To escape in the midst of such a crowd--the cowardly crew of Lycoris’ slaves seemed thunderstruck.” “Pah! who can say, if they were not concerned in the abominable conspiracy? My word for it, Quintus, all these villains have a secret understanding; they wait only for a watchword to rise and strike as one man, and to overthrow everything we hold sacred. If the state does not ere long exercise its authority in earnest, we shall have a Spartacus[296] on the throne of Rome.”