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Whereas before he had viewed von Harben with contempt and some slight suspicion, he now viewed him with contempt, suspicion, and hatred. Disgruntled, Fupus clambered from the pool and returned immediately to the dressing-room, where he donned his garments.

“Going already, Fupus?” demanded a young patrician who was disrobing in the apodyterium.

“Yes,” growled Fupus.

“I hear you came with Septimus Favonius and his new find. What sort may he be?”

“Listen well, Caecilius Metellus,” said Fupus. “This man who calls himself Erich von Harben says that he is a chief from Germania, but I believe otherwise.”

“What do you believe?” demanded Metellus, politely though evidently with no considerable interest.

Fupus came close to the other. “I believe him to be a spy from Castra Sanguinarius,” he whispered, “and that he is only pretending that he is a barbarian.”

“But they say that he does not speak our language well,” said Metellus.

“He speaks it as any man might speak it who wanted to pretend that he did not understand it or that it was new to him,” said Fupus.

Metellus shook his head. “Septimus Favonius is no fool,” he said. “I doubt if there is anyone in Castra Sanguinarius sufficently clever to fool him to such an extent.”

“There is only one man who has any right to judge as to that,” snapped Fupus, “and he is going to have the facts before I am an hour older.”

“Whom do you mean?” asked Metellus.

Validus Augustus, Emperor of the East—I am going to him at once.”

“Don’t be a fool, Fupus,” counseled Metellus. “You will only get yourself laughed at or possibly worse. Know you not that Septimus Favonius is high in favor of the Emperor?”

“Perhaps, but is it not also known that he was friendly with Cassius Hasta, nephew of the Emperor, whom Validus Augustus accused of treason and banished. It would not take much to convince the Emperor that this Erich von