handsome, highly polished, vigorous, but none the less unprincipled
man, who was just reaching the turn of years, was in high spirits. No
oligarch hated Cæsar more violently than he, and the decision of
Pompeius was a great personal triumph, the crowning of many years of
political intrigue. What Pompeius had said, he had said; and Cæsar,
the great foe of the Senate party, was a doomed man.

Lentulus had a question to ask his companion.

"Would you care to consider a marriage alliance between the Lentuli
and the Domitii?" was his proposition.

"I should be rejoiced and honoured to have the opportunity," was the
reply; and then in another tone Domitius added, "Lentulus, do you
believe in astrologers?"

"I do not really know," answered the other, uneasily.

"Neither do I," continued Domitius. "But suppose the stars speak
truly; and suppose," and here his voice fell, "it is Cæsar who is
highest in power, in ability, in good fortune;--what then for
Pompeius? for us?"

"Be silent, O prophet of evil!" retorted Lentulus, laughing, but not
very naturally.




Chapter VII