flabby, soft-handed, unskilful underlings of Lucius, struck out so
furiously that another of his attackers fell backward with a groan and
a gasp. All this Cornelia saw while, sword in hand, she flew toward
the knot of writhing men. She pushed aside the slaves by sheer force.
She asked no civilities, received none.

"Pull her away!" shouted Lucius, and started himself to accomplish his
purpose. A rude hand smote her in the face; she staggered, fell; but
as she fell a hand snatched the sword out of her grasp. She released
her hold gladly, for did she not know that hand? When she rose to her
feet there were shrieks of fear and pain on every side. The slaves
were cringing in dread before him. Drusus was standing under the
Athena, with the keen steel in his hand--its blade dyed crimson; and
at his feet lay Ahenobarbus's favourite valet--the wretch literally
disembowelled by one deadly stroke.

"Fly, fly!" she implored; "they will bring arms! They will never let
you escape."

"I'll pay you for letting him kill Croesus," howled Lucius, facing
himself resolutely toward his enemy. "How can he fly when the house is
full of servants, and his boat is away from the landing? You give
yourself trouble for no purpose, my lady! Lentulus's people will be
here with swords in a moment!"

But as he spoke a blow of some unseen giant dashed him prostrate, and
upon the terrace from below came Cappadox, foaming with anxious rage,
his brow blacker than night, his brawny arms swinging a heavy paddle
with which he clubbed the cowering slaves right and left.

"Have they killed him! Have the gods spared him!" These two demands
came bounding in a breath from the honest servant's lips. And when he
saw Drusus, bleeding, but still standing, he rushed forward to fling
his arms about his master's neck.

"Fly! fly!" urged Cornelia, and out of the building, armed now with
swords and staves, came flocking the freedmen of the house and as many
slaves as they could muster.

"_Salve!_ carissima," and Drusus, who never at the instant gave
thought to the blood all over him, pressed her in one last kiss. He
gained the terrace steps by a single bound ahead of his armed
attackers. Cappadox smote down the foremost freedman with a buffet of
the oar. Ahenobarbus staggered to his feet as Drusus sprang over him,
and the latter tore a packet of tablets from his hand, never stopping
in his own flight.

Then down on to the little landing-place pursuers and pursued