"Ha! what! noble Patricius?" cried Lentulus, coming up to them suddenly, and addressing the old chief by his latinized name—"what is this that thou arguest so sagely, in thy sonorous and male tongue." "The might and majesty of Rome," answered the old man quietly, "and our people’s misery and degradation." "Nay! nay! chief, be not downhearted. Look upward now, after dark night comes brilliant morning," said the Roman. "Your people shall rise ere long, to power and glory and dominion." "So I told Feargus." "Ha! the brave Ferragus! and doth he not credit your wisdom’s prophecy." "I put all faith in Rome’s gratitude, in Catiline’s valor and justice." "Aye! when we once have put down this faction, we will do justice to our friends." "And we are of the number!" "Surely, the twenty thousand horse, which you have promised us, are twenty thousand pledges of your friendship, as many claims on our favor." "See, here comes Eachin," said the old man; "and time wears onward, it is nigh midnight. We must away to our lodgings. Our train awaits us, and we but tarry for your envoy and the letters." "Titus Volturcius! I will go fetch him hither. He hath our letters sealed and ready. He is but draining a last cup, with our brave Cethegus. I will go fetch him." And, with the words, he turned away, gathering his toga in superb draperies about his stately person, and traversing the corridor with proud and measured strides, and as he went, muttered through his teeth—"The fool barbarians! As if we would give them anything but chains and scourges! The poor benighted idiots!" "Ho, Eachin, where left you our fair hostess?" asked Feargus in Latin—"methinks you are smitten somewhat with her beauty!" "She is very beautiful!" said the old chieftain gravely. "Beautiful! Feargus! Phadraig! beautiful, did ye say?" and the youth gazed at them in wonder, "That vile sensual, soulless harlot! she beautiful! Then virtue must be base indeed, and honor shameful!" he cried, with noble indignation, in his own Gaëlic tongue, his eyes flashing, and his cheek burning crimson. "Why, if you held her then so cheaply, have you so much affected her society?" "Oh! you suspect me, Feargus. But it needs not. The barbarian hath some shrewdness, and some honesty. Sempronia too, suspected us, and would have won my secret from me, had I indeed a secret, by sweet words and sweeter kisses." "And thou"— "Gave kiss for kiss, with interest; and soft word for soft word. I have sighed as if I were any Roman—but no secret, Feargus; Phadraig, no secret. Do you doubt me?" "Not I, boy," answered the warrior. "Your father was my cousin, and I think you are not a bastard." "I think not either. But see, here come these _noble_ Romans!" "It is their envoy with the letters for their leader. We shall be dismissed now, from this haunt of thieves and harlots!" "And laughed at, when dismissed, for fools and barbarians!" "One never knows who is the fool, till the game is lost."