Clodianus made up his mind in an instant. He put on an expression of almost ferocious gravity. “Barbillus,” he said with excessive sternness: “You are my prisoner!” “You are joking!” exclaimed the priest in dismay. “By no means! This note reveals a secret which, if it became known, would nullify all the measures taken by the government. Till this moment, not a soul but Caesar and those in his confidence knew that the conspirators were to meet at Rodumna. Accident has put you, too, in possession of the information. I must have you in safe-keeping.” “That would be an ill return for the zeal I have shown in the matter.” “I am very sorry, but consideration for you must yield to my care for the safety of the State. The secret must be kept at any cost. Nothing but your imprisonment will be a sufficient guarantee. Come into the house with me, and I will consider where to send you.” “You are resolved on my ruin!” cried Barbillus in despair. “A priest of Isis in prison! only consider; my office, my position, my influence will be utterly lost. Do you suppose, that all these years and in such a place as mine I have not learnt to hold my tongue? Silence is the first virtue of a priest.” The adjutant seemed to waver. “If I could trust you.--But no. It will not do; I cannot undertake such a responsibility.” “You can, you may in all confidence. You may throw me to the wild beasts, if a rash word ever passes my lips. Only spare me this irremediable disgrace. I am thought by every matron in Rome to be specially favored by the goddess. You are destroying my very existence.” “That would no doubt be a misfortune,” said Clodianus relenting. “Well, be it so; once more I will be fool enough to be good-natured. But woe to you, if you abuse my kindness.” “Thanks, thanks, my lord!” exclaimed Barbillus, raising the crafty courtier’s hand to his lips. “The letter itself I will destroy at once,” continued Clodianus. “Parthenius himself must know nothing of its contents, or he would undo all my precautions. Swear to be secret by all you hold most sacred.” “I swear by the precious head of Barbillus,” said the priest, laying his hand on his heart. “Very good; now come with me. You must tell the chamberlain some fib. That you hope to persuade the fair one to yield willingly, or anything else that comes into your head. I will take care of the rest.” “Would it not be wise, if we were to discuss the details of the fib? I am anxious not to blunder, for I have already angered Caesar once.” “Then go, keep out of it, and leave the whole matter to me. I will let you know what I have settled in the course of the evening.” “That will, I think, be the safest plan. My appearing here at so late an hour might excite suspicion: Farewell, my lord. I will never forget the grace you have shown your humble servant.” “The best thanks will be in silence.”