the markets, in the fencing-schools, in slave-dealers' sheds, and even
in the arenas?"

"By the gods! enough, noble sage!" cried Petronius; "we are drowning in
thy services, thy virtue, thy wisdom, and thy eloquence. Enough! We
wanted to know who thou art, and we know!"

But Vinicius was glad, for he thought that this man, like a hound, once
put on the trail, would not stop till he had found out the hiding-place.

"Well," said he, "dost thou need indications?"

"I need arms."

"Of what kind?" asked Vinicius, with astonishment.

The Greek stretched out one hand; with the other he made the gesture of
counting money.

"Such are the times, lord," said he, with a sigh.

"Thou wilt be the ass, then," said Petronius, "to win the fortress with
bags of gold?"

"I am only a poor philosopher," answered Chilo, with humility; "ye have
the gold."

Vinicius tossed him a purse, which the Greek caught in the air, though
two fingers were lacking on his right hand.