CHAPTER THE NINETY-SEVENTH.

Eumolpus was speaking privately with Bargates, when a crier attended by a
public slave entered the inn, accompanied by a medium-sized crowd of
outsiders. Waving a torch that gave out more smoke than light, he
announced: "Strayed from the baths, a short time ago, a boy about sixteen
years of age, curly headed, a minion, handsome, answers to the name of
Giton. One thousand sesterces reward will be paid to anyone bringing him
back or giving information as to his whereabouts." Ascyltos, dressed in
a tunic of many colors, stood not far from the crier, holding out a
silver tray upon which was piled the reward, as evidence of good faith.
I ordered Giton to get under the bed immediately, telling him to stick
his hands and feet through the rope netting which supported the mattress,
and, just as Ulysses of old had clung to the ram, so he, stretched out
beneath the mattress, would evade the hands of the hunters. And Giton
did not hesitate at obeying this order, but fastened his hands in the
netting for a moment, outdoing Ulysses in his own cunning! For fear of
leaving room for suspicion, I piled covers upon my pallet, leaving the
impression of a single person of my own stature. Meanwhile Ascyltos, in
company with the magistrate's servant, had ransacked all the rooms and
had come at last to mine, where he entertained greater hopes of success,
because he found the doors carefully barred. The public slave loosened
the bolts by inserting the edge of his ax in the chink. I threw myself
at Ascyltos' feet, begging him, by the memory of our friendship and our
companionship in suffering, to show me my "brother," safe and sound, and
furthermore, that my simulated prayers might carry conviction, I added,