messenger
from Marcian? he exclaimed. With news for _him_? And, as if expecting a
letter, he stretched forth his hand eagerly.

'He has nothing, that I know of, for you,' said the captain. 'If he
tells the truth, he is charged with a message for the king.'

'Is it Sagaris--a Syrian slave?'

'A Syrian, by his looks; one I remember to have seen with Marcian a
year ago.'

'Sagaris, to be sure. Then you can trust him. He has the eye of his
race, and is a prating braggart, but Marcian has found him honest. I
must see him, Venantius. Will you send him to me, dear lord?'

Venantius had seated himself on a chair that was beside the bed; he
wore a dubious look, and, before speaking again, glanced keenly at
Basil.

'Did you not expect,' he asked, 'to meet Marcian in the king's camp?'

'My last news from him bade me go thither as fast as I could, as he
himself was leaving Rome to join the king. I should have gone a little
out of my road to visit his villa near Arpinum, on the chance of
hearing news of him there; but our encounter with the marauders drove
me too far away.'

'So much,' said Venantius, 'I gathered from your talk last night, when
you were not quite so clear-headed as you are now. What I want to
discover is whether this Syrian has lied to me. He declares that he
left Marcian in Rome. Now it happens that some of our men, who were
sent for a certain purpose, yesterday, along the Latin Way, came across
half a dozen horsemen, riding westward, and as their duty was, learnt
all they could from them. These six fellows declared themselves
servants of the bishop of Praeneste, and said that they had just been
convoying a Roman noble and a lady to a villa not far from Arpinum. And
the noble's name--they had it, said they, from his own servants at the
villa, where they had passed a night--was Marcian.'

Basil stared; he had gone pale again and haggard.

'What lady was with him?' he asked, under his breath.

'That I cannot tell you. The bishop's men knew nothing about her, and
had not seen her face. But'--Venantius smiled--'they left her safely
housed with our friend Marcian. How comes this Syrian to say that his
master is at Rome? Does he lie? Or did the horsemen lie? Or are there,
perchance, two Marcians?'

'I must speak with him,' said Basil. 'Leave me to find out the truth
for you. Send Sagaris here, Venantius, I entreat you.'

The captain appeared to hesitate, but, on Basil's beseeching him not to
delay, he a