the man's every movement betrayed personal vanity; his speech had
the note of facile obsequiousness; he talked whenever occasion
offered, and was fond of airing his views on political and other
high matters. Therewithal, he was the most superstitious of mortals;
wore amulets, phylacteries, charms of all sorts, and secretly prayed
to many strange gods. When he had nothing else to do, and could find
a genial companion, his delight was to play by the hour at _micare
digitis_; but, in spite of his master's good opinion, not to Sagaris
would have applied the proverb that you might play that game with
him in the dark.

'Take my word for it,' he whispered to Felix, with his most
important air, 'we shall see strange things ere long. Last night I
counted seven shooting stars.'

'What does that argue?' asked the other soberly.

'More than I care to put into Latin. At Capua, three days ago, a
woman gave birth to a serpent, a winged dragon, which flew away
towards Rome. I talked at Neapolis with a man who saw it.'

'Strange, indeed,' murmured Felix, with raised eyebrows. 'I have
often heard of such portents, but never had the luck to behold one
of them. Yet,' he added gravely, 'I have received a sign. When my
father died, I was far away from him, and at that very hour, as I
prayed in the church of Holy Clement at Rome, I heard a voice that
said in my ear, _Vale_! three times.'

'Oh, I have had signs far more wonderful than that,' exclaimed the
Syrian. 'I was at sea, between Alexandria and Berytus--for you