When the note was put into his hands, the day was already waning. It was that same eventful day when, in the morning, the Batavian had so happily escaped, and at night the Christians were doomed to surprise and seizure. Barbillus decided not to waste an instant; he hurried off to the chamberlain’s house, where, after some ceremony on the part of the servants, he succeeded in gaining admission. The courtier was entertaining a highly select circle. They had just risen from a magnificent supper, and he had conducted his guests into a handsomely-decorated room, where a variety of entertainments were provided for them. Some, heated with their potations of fine wines, went out into the cooler air of the peristyle; among these were Parthenius himself and Clodianus, who stood eagerly talking to the master of the feast. “Come--let us talk no more of business;” said Parthenius, half in earnest and half in jest, when Clodianus paused for a moment. “I assure you, my noble friend, I am almost overwhelmed when I think of the work before us. I am half afraid, that with all these arrests we have loaded ourselves with a burden that we can hardly carry.” “Why?” asked the adjutant coolly. “Only think! the flower of the Senate and the Knights! It will hardly be wise to punish so many and such illustrious captives with death. Merely to banish them would be to endanger the Caesar’s power....” “Then keep them in prison till further notice.” “That will not do either. Do you suppose then, that their relations and friends would sit with their hands before them? It would be putting a dangerous weapon into the enemy’s hands.” “Really, Parthenius, you talk as if the throne were already tottering. What can the anger of the accused, or the disaffection of their allies matter to us? Is not the Palatium strong enough? Are not our soldiers faithful? Is not Caesar one with all the true feelings of his people?” “Again I say, put off all serious discussion till to-morrow,” replied the chamberlain, offering his hand to the adjutant. “The duties of a host now claim my attention....” At this moment a servant led the way for a priest of Isis. “My lord,” said Barbillus, bowing, “I have come on the business you know of. Caesar commissioned me....” “Ah! now I recognize you!” exclaimed Parthenius after looking at him closely for a moment. “You are Barbillus, the stage-manager and prompter at the Temple of Isis. Charmed, by the gods, I am sure!” Barbillus, who was not particularly pleased at this reception, looked down in embarrassment. He did not know whether to take up a jesting tone in reply, or to try to be dignified and haughty; so as to impress the adjutant, at any rate, even if it were impossible with the chamberlain, who was cognizant of his miserable failure. “Do you recollect,” continued Parthenius, turning to Clodianus with a meaning glance, “that charming creature, whose coarse-fisted slave had the audacity....”