his hand, at that
moment of mortal combat, which he expected to be his last! Did he only
love her because her face was sweet, her voice was sweet, and the
touch of her hair was sweet? Happy was he, her lover;--he could say
"no," and have never a fear that his sincerity would be tested. And
Lucius Ahenobarbus? He hated him with a perfect hatred. A Roman who
was no Roman! A womanish man whom every true woman must despise! A
serpent who had not even the bright scales of a serpent! What would he
do to Cornelia? Drusus's face grew hard. Had he, Drusus, yet done any
injury worth mentioning to his enemy? Why had he not used the moment
when Lucius lay prostrate, and run the sword through his body?
Ill-timed, thoughtless mercy! But the letters, the packet he had
wrenched from Ahenobarbus's hand? Why was it so precious? Drusus had
flung it into the boat. He took up the packet. Doubtless some
_billet-doux_. Why should he degrade his mind by giving an instant's
thought to any of his enemy's foul intrigues? He could only open his
eyes with difficulty, but a curiosity that did not add to his
self-esteem overmastered him. The seal! Could he believe his
senses--the imprint of three trophies of victory? It was the seal of
Pompeius! The instinct of the partisan and politician conquered every
infirmity. He broke the wax, untied the thread, and opened. The
letters were in cipher, and at first sight illegible. But this did not
present any insuperable difficulty. Most classic ciphers were
sufficiently simple to be solved without very much trouble. Drusus
knew that in all Caesar's correspondence a cipher had been used which
consisted merely of substituting for each letter the fourth letter
beyond it, as D for A; and a little examination showed that the
present cryptogram was made on the same rude method. After a few
guesses he struck the proper substitutions, and was able to read.

"Pompeius Magnus, Imperator, to the most excellent Lucius Domitius
Ahenobarbus, Rome, tenth day before the Calends of January. If it is
well with you, it is well; I am well.[134] I write to warn you that we
are told that Quintus Drusus, your personal enemy and the friend of
our own foes, is in Campania. We need not add more, for we trust to
you to see to it that he stirs up no faction in favour of his master
in those parts. Be assured that you will not be long troubled by this
enemy. He is marked out as one of the earliest of those to pay with
their lives for thei