is cheek-bones made a right angle with his
straight and severe brow, in true Roman outline; in the deep-sunk eyes
lay Roman strength and--at this moment--resolute earnestness, and a
self-will regardless of all but itself.

"Aha! Severinus, son of Boethius! Welcome, my young hero and
philosopher! I have not seen you for many months. Whence come you?"

"From the grave of my mother!" answered Severinus, with a fixed look at
the questioner.

Cethegus sprang from his seat.

"What! Rusticiana? The friend of my youth? The wife of my Boethius?"

"She is dead," said the son shortly.

The Prefect would have taken his hand, but Severinus withdrew it.

"My son! my poor Severinus! And did she die--without a word for me?"

"I bring you her last words--they concern you!"

"How did she die? Of what illness?"

"Of grief and remorse."

"Grief!" sighed Cethegus; "that I understand. But why should she feel
remorse? And her last word was for me? Tell me, what did she say?"

Severinus approached the Prefect so closely that he touched his knee,
and looking piercingly into his eyes, he answered:

"She said, 'A curse, a curse upon Cethegus, who poisoned my child!"

Cethegus looked at him quietly.

"Did she die delirious?" he coldly asked.

"No, murderer! Her delirium was to trust in you! In the hour of her
death she confessed to Cassiodorus and to me that it was her hand which
administered the poison--with which you had furnished her--to the young
tyrant. She told us all the circumstances. She was supported as she
spoke by old Corbulo and his daughter, Daphnidion. 'Too late I
learned,' she concluded, 'that my child had drunk of the deadly cup.
And there was no one to hold Camilla's hand as she took it; for I was
still in the boat upon the sea, and Cethegus was in the plantain-alley.'
Then old Corbulo called out, turning pale, 'What! did the Prefect know
that the cup contained poison?' 'Certainly,' answered my mother; 'for,
as I left the garden, I had told him that the deed was done.' Corbulo
was dumb with horror; but Daphnidion cried out in violent grief, 'Alas!
my poor mistress! Then Cethegus murdered your child; for he stood near,
close to me, and watched her drink.' 'He watched her drink?' asked my
mother, in a voice which will ring in my ears for ever. 'He watched her
as she drank,' repeated the freedman and his daughter. 'Oh! then may
his cursed soul be delivered to the devils in hell!' cried my mother.
'Revenge, O God!