onversations of the
Prince of the Republic, of the most sedulously guarded man on earth, are
thus overheard by underlings and so promptly communicated even to
outsiders presumably to be reckoned among his enemies?"

"I conjecture," Agathemer rejoined, "that I am not the only outsider in
receipt of information of this kind."

"If you have been, all along," I asked, "in receipt of such information,
why have you always talked of Furfur's presence in the Palace and his
utilization as a dummy Emperor while Commodus masqueraded as Palus, as a
conjecture of yours which you believed, but of which you could not be
certain? Why have you not frankly spoken of it as a fact, which many knew
of and of which some in a position to know, repeatedly informed you?"

"Because no one ever did so inform me," Agathemer answered, "they merely
dropped hints, mostly hints, unnoticed by themselves, unintentionally
dropped by them, and uncertainly pieced together by me. While Commodus was
alive each of my informants, however fond of me, however under obligations
to me, however anticipative of profit from me, however eager to curry
favor with me, yet had vividly before him the dread of death, of death
with torture, if any disloyalty of his, any dereliction in deed, word or
thought, came to the notice of Commodus or Laetus or Eclectus, or if any
one of them came to harbor any suspicion of him. All were vague, guarded,
indefinite, cautious.

"Since midnight all that has changed. None fears any retribution for
blabbing; all feel an overmastering urge towards confiding in some one.
The three who, each unknown to the others, have resorted to me, told me
unreckonably more than I previously conjectured. I comprehend the entire
situation, now."

"If so," I said, "make me comprehend it. I do not. How could Furfur be
coerced or persuaded to such an imposture? How could he be domiciled in
the Palace along with Marcia and Commodus and the deception maintained?
How could the three personally endure or even sustain the difficulties of
the situation?"

"It all hinged," Agathemer explained, "on the fact that Furfur was
insanely in love with Marcia, that Marcia hated and loathed him and that
Commodus realized how each felt to the other. He was so sure of Marcia's
detestation of Furfur that he was never jealous of him, so sure of
Furfur's complete subserviency to Marcia that he never feared betrayal by
him. Actually, from what I hear, Furfur complied as he did