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“They say he is going to marry the daughter of Septimus Favonius.”

“I saw her in the Colosseum today,” said another. “I know her well by sight, for she used to come to the shop of my father and make purchases before I was sent to the dungeons.”

“Have you ever been to the house of Septimus Favonius?” asked another.

“Yes, I have,” said the youth. “Twice I took goods there for her inspection, going through the forecourt and into the inner garden. I know the place well.”

“If one like her should happen to fall into the hands of a few poor convicts they might win their freedom and a great ransom,” suggested a low-browed fellow with evil, cunning eyes.

“And be drawn asunder by wild oxen for their pains.”

“We must die anyway if we are caught.”

“It is a good plan.”

They drank again for several minutes in silence, evidencing that the plan was milling in their minds.

“The new Caesar should pay an enormous ransom for his bride.”

The youth rose eagerly to his feet. “I will lead you to the home of Septimus Favonius and guarantee that they will open the gate for me and let me in, as I know what to say. All I need is a bundle and I call tell the slave that it contains goods that my father wishes Favonia to inspect.”

“You are not such a fool as you look.”

“No, and I shall have a large share of the ransom for my part in it,” said the youth.

“If there is any ransom, we shall share and share alike.”

Night was falling as Tarzan’s army halted before the defenses of Castrum Mare. Cassius Hasta, to whom the reduction of the fort had been entrusted, disposed his forces and supervised the placing of his various engines of war.

Within the city Erich von Harben and Mallius Lepus discussed the details of their plans. It was the judgment of