ic" went each man to his own dwelling;
but there was no longer any doubt as to what was to come of the doings
of the day.

Flaccus, the banker, had of course no access to the conference; but he
had waited outside the gate of the palace, to learn the issue from an
acquaintance in the Senate. His patience was at last rewarded.

"Tell me, friend," was his question, "what will be the outcome of
this; shall I risk any loans to-morrow?"

The friendly senator seemed doubtful.

"Caesar is a ruined man. Who imagines his legions will fight? We know
Labienus is with Pompeius."

"You are wrong," said Flaccus.

"Wrong? I?" replied the senator. "I know whereof I speak."

"_Phy!"_ cried the banker, "not Caesar, but you are ruined. The legions
will fight."

"Don't prophesy," sneered the acquaintance, "seeing that you brokers
always keep out of politics."

"You politicians are blind," retorted Flaccus.

* * * * *

The debate raged on. But by law the Senate could not convene on the
third and fourth of the month, and the question of setting aside the
tribunician veto went over until the fifth. It was the last lull
before the outbreak of the great tempest. The little group of
Caesarians put forth their final efforts. Drusus went in person to call
on Cicero, the great orator, and plead with him to come out from his
residence in the suburbs and argue for peace. The destroyer of
Catilina had declared that he would not forfeit his rights to a
triumph for his Cilician victories by appearing prematurely in the
Senate. Besides, he could never antagonize Pompeius. Curio smiled
grimly when his colleague reported his fruitless embassy.

"I think, my friends," said the politician, "we shall soon prove the
old saying, 'Whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad.'"

Chapter XV

The Seventh of January

I

The rapid march of events that week had taken Drusus out of himself,
and made him forgetful of personal consequences; but it sobered him
when he heard Curio and Caelius, his associates, telling Balbus where
their wills would be found deposited if anything calamitous were to
befall them. After all, life was very sweet to the young Livian. He
could not at heart desire to drift off into nothingness--to stop
breathing, thinking, feeling. And for the last time he reviewed his
position; told himself that it was not an unworthy cause for which he
was contending; that it was not treason, but pa