u are not so much a conspirator as a lunatic.
Your schemes are half idiocy, half moonshine. I have pledged you my word
to be secret as to what you have told me. My pledge holds if you now keep
silent, rise from this seat and walk straight out to your litter, by the
same way by which you came from it. If you utter another syllable to me,
if you do not rise promptly, if you hesitate about going, if you linger on
your path, I'll call my litter, I'll go straight to the Palace, I'll ask
for a private audience, I'll wait till I get one, I'll tell the Emperor
every word you have said to me. If you want protection for yourself from
my pledge, leave me. Go!"

He gave one glance at me and went.

CHAPTER IX

THE SQUALL OF THE LEOPARD

When he was gone, when I had seen the postern door shut behind him, I felt
suddenly weak and faint. I was amazed to find how exhausted I was left by
the ebbing of the hot wave of indignation and rage which had surged
through me as I revolted from his absurd and contemptible proposals. I
felt flaccid and limp.

At this instant Agathemer brought me a tray of food. My impulse was to
burst out at him with reproaches for having, without consulting me,
presumed to arrange for me an interview with a man not among my intimates.
But I was so enraged that I dreaded the effect on me, in my weakened
state, if I let myself go in respect to rebuking my slave. I kept silent
and was mildly surprised to find myself tempted by the food. I ate and
drank all that was on the tray, and Agathemer vanished noiselessly,
without a word.

I sat there, revived by the food and wine, feeling the weakness caused by
my rage gradually passing off and meditating on the sudden change in my
condition. Before Capito accosted me I had felt perfectly well and was
looking forward to resuming my normal life next day, to going to the
Palace Levee, to enjoying a bath with my acquaintances at the Thermae of
Titus. Since Capito had left me I had felt so overcome that I was ready to
look forward to some days yet of strict regimen and isolation.

Thus meditating I was again aware of footsteps on the walk.

I looked up and was more amazed than when I had caught sight of Capito.
Approaching me, but a few paces from me, was one of the most detestable
bores in Rome, a man whom I sedulously avoided, Faltonius Bambilio. His
father, the Pontifex of Vesta, was an offensively and absurdly unctuous
and pompous man. His son, who had already