es. All this had been forced upon him, because there was
no tolerable spot on the planet where he might settle down and be free
from the grasp of punishment for a crime he had never committed.

Demetrius had boldly come up to Rome on a light undecked yacht.[158]
The harbor masters had been given to understand that the captain of
the craft was an Asiatic princeling, who was visiting the capital of
the world out of a quite legitimate curiosity. If they had had any
doubts, they accepted extremely large fees and said nothing. The real
object of the venture was to dispose of a large collection of rare
gems and other valuables that Demetrius had collected in the course of
his wanderings. Despite the perturbed state of the city, the worthy
pirate had had little difficulty in arranging with certain wealthy
jewellers, who asked no questions, when they bought, at a very large
discount, bargains of a most satisfactory character. And so it came to
pass, by the merest luck, that the two cousins were thrown together in
a crowd, and partly Agias, through his dim childish recollections of
his unfortunate relative, and partly Demetrius, through memories of
his uncle's boy and the close resemblance of the lad to his father,
had been prompted first to conversation, then to mutual inquiries,
then to recognition.

[158] A _celox_ of one bank of oars, a small ship much used by
the pirates.

Demetrius had no intention of leaving Rome for a few days. Under
existing circumstances the chances of his arrest were not worth
considering. His cousin was eager to show him all the sights; and the
freebooter was glad of a little relaxation from his roving life, glad
to forget for an instant that his country was his squadron, his rights
at law were his cutlass. Moreover, he had taken a vast liking to
Agias; deeply dipped in blood himself, he dared not desire his cousin
to join him in his career of violence--yet he could not part with the
bright, genial lad so hastily. Agias needed no entreaties, therefore,
to induce his cousin to enjoy his hospitality.

III

Fabia the Vestal was in direful perplexity. Her heart had gone with
Drusus in his flight to Ravenna; she had wished herself beside him, to
be a man, able to fight a man's battles and win a man's glory. For the
first time in her life the quiet routine of the Temple service brought
her no contentment; for the first time she felt herself bound to a
career that could not satisfy. She was rest