After a short council, they decided on taking a course between the little islands of Planasia and Ilva,[77] north of Corsica, to the coast of Gallia Narbonensis, and then to cast anchor in the most unfrequented bay they could find; Athenopolis[78] perhaps, or Olbia.[79] From thence, either separately or together, they could make their way into the interior, and reach Gallia Lugdunensis, where a large number of troops were stationed, some in scattered fortresses, and some in the chief town of the province, Lugdunum on the Rhodanus.[80] Rodumna, on the Liger, the native town of Afranius, was still to be the central point of meeting on a particular day, to be fixed later, unless the conspiracy should through some unforeseen occurrence be broken up. It had now long been day. The fugitives, quite tired out, retired to their couches; Aurelius only still found something to do. First he went to Herodianus' cabin; he had taken himself to bed as soon as he had come on board, and all the bustle of the last hour or two had not waked him. He now lifted up a bruised and swollen face, and complained of severe pain. His fall on the way had shaken him considerably. Aurelius helped him to move, and then applied a bandage and a herb poultice to his arm and shoulder, and in five minutes the patient was asleep again. Aurelius, however, still could not rest. He went next to the fugitive entrusted to his protection by Quintus Claudius: Eurymachus. He found him excited, pale, and breathless. He was in a high fever, and sitting up in bed. Through the half-opened port-hole of his cabin he had listened in alarm to the mysterious confusion and noise; he imagined that the pursuit had been on his account, and it had distressed him beyond measure to think that the magnanimous Aurelius should be involved in his hapless fate. When the Batavian had reassured him on this point, he fell back on his pillows with a few words of gratitude. A sort of ague fit shook his frame, and his teeth chattered as if with cold. “How strange,” said Aurelius to himself. “This man, who is so indifferent to danger for himself, is ready to die with anxiety for the safety of his preserver!” He went back to his own room, and threw himself, wrapped in his cloak as he was, on the outside of his bed. He tried to recall all the events of the last twenty-four hours, but his thoughts became confused. He seemed to see a sweet maiden form stooping over him--to see her smile and feel her kiss his forehead. “Claudia!” he sighed and shivered; then he fell quite asleep--and he was at Baiae, in the quiet, peaceful garden, far from the world of hatred, tyranny, and persecutions. A lovely dream! as distinct from the realities of the present, as a bright star in the dark vault of night. FOOTNOTES: [69] SMOKED CHEESE. See Mart. _Ep._ XI, 52; XIII, 32. The best smoked cheese was the Velabrian, so called from Velabrum, a region between the Capitoline, Palatine and Aventine Hills.