Chapter 2

Upon meeting in the arbor, Lucia and Diana had both wept, wordlessly. Then they had talked in broken sentences about the possibilities of Marcellus’ return, his sister fearing the worst, Diana wondering whether some pressure might be brought to bear on Gaius.

‘You mean’—Lucia queried—’that perhaps my father might—’

‘No.’ Diana shook her head decisively. ‘Not your father. It would have to be done some other way.’ Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

‘Maybe your father could do something about it,’ suggested Lucia.

‘I don’t know. Perhaps he might, if he were here. But his business in Marseilles may keep him stationed there until next winter.’

‘You said good-bye to Marcellus?’ asked Lucia, after they had walked on a little way in silence. She questioned Diana’s eyes and smiled pensively as she watched the color creeping up her cheeks. Diana nodded and pressed Lucia’s arm affectionately, but made no other response.

‘How did Demetrius get down here so fast?’ she asked, impulsively. ‘He came for me, you know, telling me Marcellus was leaving and wanted to see me. Just now I passed him. Don’t tell me that slave was saying good-bye—like an equal?’

‘It was rather strange,’ admitted Lucia. ‘Demetrius had never spoken to me in his life, except to acknowledge an order. I hardly knew what to make of it, Diana. He came out here, saluted with his usual formality, and delivered a little speech that sounded as if he had carefully rehearsed it. He said, “I am going away with the Tribune. I may never return. I wish to bid farewell to the sister of my master and thank her for being kind to her brother’s slave. I shall remember her goodness.” Then he took this ring out of his wallet—’

‘Ring?’ echoed Diana, incredulously. ‘Hold still. Let me look at it,’ she breathed. Lucia held up her hand, with fingers outspread, for a closer inspection in the waning light. ‘Pretty; isn’t it?’ commented Diana. ‘What is that device—a ship?’

‘Demetrius said,’ continued Lucia, ‘”I should like to leave this with my master’s sister. If I come back, she may return it to me. If I do not come back, it shall be hers. My father gave it to my mother. It is the only possession I was able to save.”‘

‘But—how queer!’ murmured Diana. ‘What did you say to him?’

‘Well—what could I say?’ Lucia’s tone was self-defensive. ‘After all—he is going away with my brother—at the risk of his own life. He’s human; isn’t he?’

‘Yes—he’s human,’ agreed Diana, impatiently. ‘Go on! What did you say?’