one. A Vestal taken captive by robbers! A Vestal imprisoned
in the hold of banditti, forced to become the consort, lawful or
unlawful, of the brigands' chief! The very thought grew and grew in
Gabinius's imagination, until he could think of little else. Dumnorix
and his comrades trusted him almost implicitly; he had been successful
as their schemer and leader in several dark enterprises, that proved
his craft if not his valour. He would not fail in this.

An overmastering influence was drawing him to Rome. He took one or two
fellow-spirits in his company, and ventured over hill and valley to
the suburbs of the city on a reconnoissance, while by night he
ventured inside the walls.

The capital he found in the ferment that preceded the expulsion of the
tribunes, on the fateful seventh of January. Along with many another
evil-doer, he and his followers filched more than one wallet during
the commotions and tumults. He dared not show himself very openly. His
crime had been too notorious to be passed over, even if committed
against a doomed Caesarian like Drusus; besides, he was utterly without
any political influence that would stand him in good stead. But around
the Atrium Vestae he lurked in the dark, spying out the land and
waiting for a glimpse of Fabia. Once only his eye caught a white-robed
stately figure appearing in the doorway toward evening, a figure which
instinct told him was the object of his passion. He had to restrain
himself, or he would have thrown off all concealment then and there,
and snatched her away in his arms. He saved himself that folly, but
his quest seemed hopeless. However weak the patrol in other parts of
the city, there was always an ample watch around the Atrium Vestae.

Gabinius saw that his stay around Rome was only likely to bring him
into the clutches of the law, and reluctantly he started back, by a
night journey in a stolen wagon, for the safer hill country beyond the
Anio. But he was not utterly cast down. He had overheard the street
talk of two equites, whom in more happy days he had known as rising
politicians.

"I hope the consuls are right," the first had said, "that Caesar's army
will desert him."

"_Perpol_," responded the other, "your wish is mine! If the proconsul
really _does_ advance, nothing will stand between him and the city!"

Gabinius kept his own counsel. "In times of war and confusion, the
extremity of the many is the opportunity of the few," was the maxim he
re