At this moment the heavy tread of Clodianus was heard approaching.[38] He had been requested by the chamberlain to visit the room where Julia was lying dead. The boy, with a dim sense of wrong-doing in thus playing tricks with the property of his imperial master, hastily hid the tablet in his tunic again. But the very promptness with which he did so attracted the adjutant’s attention. “What are you hiding there?” he asked, beckoning the lad to him. “Nothing, my lord--a little board....” stammered Phaeton. “Our lord and god is ill--he fainted; the bit of wood fell on the ground....” “Show it to me.” The boy obeyed, trembling, for the adjutant’s voice had a growl in it of distant thunder. At the court of the Roman Emperor any one might, at any moment, happen to offend the majesty of Caesar beyond all forgiveness. The quaking youngster fully expected that the next words he should hear would be: “Go, and be soundly flogged!” or even worse. What then was his surprise when Clodianus, who on first glancing at the tablet had frowned darkly, suddenly lost his expression of angry defiance, and looked anxiously round at the sentinels. “Have they seen this?” he asked, drawing the lad aside. “No, my lord.” “Where did you find this tablet?” “It was lying under the great sovereign’s pillow.” “And you stole it?” “Nay, my lord. It fell out, when Caesar lost consciousness.” “Caesar is sick, then?” “I said so before. He screamed as if an asp had stung him; then he fainted. The leech says there is no danger....” “Let us hope so, let us hope so.--Did any one see you pick up this little tablet?” “No, my lord.” “Listen, then, to what I tell you. Replace it as soon as possible, and secretly.--Mark me well, very secretly--exactly where it was. If any one finds out that you brought it out here, you are a dead man--I mean well by you, Phaeton.” “Oh! my lord, if I could have dreamed that I was committing a crime....” “Be silent, and do as I bid you. By our conquering eagle! I am not one of those, who make an outcry about every little stupid thing. An old soldier is not prone to tale-telling--only do not betray yourself.” “How have I deserved so much kindness?” said the poor boy, kissing the wily courtier’s hand. “Perhaps I could slip into the room again now....” “You can but try, my boy; and for the future take care what you do. Things that Caesar thinks fit to hide under his pillow, are not meant for the eyes of others, you may be sure. Do not forget that.” The lad went; Clodianus looked after him, nodding his head as he said to himself: “A most fortunate chance! You write a plain hand, Caesar! I have seen this coming for some time. You insist on having none but foes, great potentate! No confederates! Well--I can but try to play the part.”