“Do not be uneasy on their account,” said Herodianus, wiping his brow. “Our Northmen are used to heavier burdens!” Then, turning to Magus, he went on: “By all the gods, I entreat you--a draught of Caecubum![56] I am bound to carry this weary load,” and he slapped his round paunch, “this Erymanthian boar,[57] like a second Hercules, to the top of the hill on my own unaided legs! and I am dropping with exhaustion.” The Goth smiled and signed to one of the slaves, who was carrying wine and other refreshments. “The wine of Caecubus,” said Herodianus, “is especially good against fatigue. Dionysus,[58] gracious giver, I sacrifice to thee!” and as he spoke he shed a few drops as a libation[59] on the earth and then emptied the cup with the promptitude of a practised drinker. In about twenty minutes more they reached Octavia’s house; in the vestibule[60] a young girl came running out to meet them. “Mother, dear, sweet mother!” she cried excitedly, “and Claudia, my darling! Here you are at last. Oh! we have been so dreadfully frightened, Quintus and I; that awful storm! the whole bay was churned up, as white as milk. But oh! I am glad to have you safe again! Quintus! Quintus!...” And she flew back into the house, where they heard her fresh, happy voice still calling: “Quintus!” “My adopted daughter,”[61] said Octavia, in answer to an enquiring glance from Aurelius. “Lucilia,” added Claudia, “whom I love as if she were my own real sister.” Aurelius, who had sprung from his horse, throwing the bridle to his faithful Magus, was on the point of conducting Octavia into the atrium,[62] when a youth of remarkable beauty appeared in the door-way and silently clasped this lady in his arms. Then he pressed a long and loving kiss on Claudia’s lips, and it was not till after he had thus welcomed the mother and daughter, that he turned hesitatingly to Aurelius, who stood on one side blushing deeply; a sign from Octavia postponed all explanation. The whole party entered the house, and it was not till they were standing in the pillared hall, where marble seats piled with cushions invited them to repose, that Octavia said to the astonished youth with a certain solemnity of mien: “Quintus, my son, it is to this stranger--the noble and illustrious Caius Aurelius Menapius, of Trajectum, in the land of the Batavi--that you owe it that you see us here now. He took us on board his trireme, for our boat was sinking. I declare myself his debtor henceforth forever. Do you, on your part, show him all the hospitality and regard that he deserves.” Quintus came forward and embraced Aurelius. “I hope, my lord,” he said with an engaging smile, “that you will for some time give us the honor of your company and so give us, your debtors, the opportunity we desire of becoming your friends.” “He has already promised to do so,” said Octavia.