his face was
flushed with the wine he had taken in anticipation, in the hope of
giving an artificial elation to his spirits. But it seemed as though for
that time the wine had lost its accustomed charm. Although at each
greeting he strove to wreathe his face in smiles, yet it was but a
feeble mask, and could not hide the more natural appearances of care and
gloom which rested upon his features; and while his voice seemed to
retain its old ring of joyous welcome, there was an undertone of sad
discordance. As the guests entered and exchanged greetings with their
host, each, after the first moment, looked askant at him, with the dim
perception that, in some way, he was not as he was wont to be; and so,
in a little while, they sank, one by one, into a troubled and
apprehensive silence. He, too, upon his part, looked furtively at them,
wondering whether they had yet heard the thing that had befallen him. It
was but a short time ago, indeed, and yet in how few minutes might the
unrestrained gossip of a slave have spread the ill tidings! For the
moment, Sergius recoiled from the difficult task of entertainment which
he had taken upon himself. Why, indeed, had he called these men around
him? How could he sit and pledge them in deep draughts, and all the time
suspect that each one knew his secret, and was laughing about it in his
sleeve? And if they knew it not, so much the worse, for then he must
tell the tale himself. Was it not partly for this purpose that he had
assembled them? Far better to speak of it himself--to let them see how
little he regarded the misfortune and the scandal--to treat it as a
brave jest--to give his own version of it--than to have the matter leak
out in the ordinary way, with all conceivable distortions and
exaggerations. But how, in fact, could he tell it? Was there one among
them who would not, while openly commiserating him, laugh at him in the
heart? Did there not now sit before him the lieutenant Plautus, who,
only a month before, had met with a like disgrace, and about whom he had
composed derisive verses? Would not the lieutenant Plautus now rejoice
to make retaliatory odes? Would it not b e better, then, after all, to
forbear any mention of the matter, and, letting its announcement take
the usual chance course, to devote this night, at least, to unbroken
festivity? But what if they already knew it?

Thus wandering in his mind from one debate to another, and ever, in a
moment, coming back to hi