CHAPTER XXI.

The steward awoke soon after sunrise. He had slept no less soundly, it
is true, in his arm-chair than in his bed, but he did not feel refreshed,
and his limbs ached.

In the living-room everything was in the same disorder as on the previous
evening, and this annoyed him, for he was accustomed to find his room in
order when he entered it in the morning. On the table, surrounded by
flies, stood the remains of the children's supper, and among the bread
crusts and plates lay his own ornaments and his daughter's! Wherever he
turned he saw articles of dress and other things out of their place. The
old slave-woman came in yawning, her woolly grey hair hung in disorder
about her face, and her eyes seemed fixed, her feet carried her
unsteadily here and there.

"You are drunk," cried Keraunus; nor was he mistaken, for when the old
woman had waked up, sitting by the house of Pudeus, and had learned from
the gate keeper that Arsinoe had quitted the garden, she had gone into a
tavern with other slave-women. When her master seized her arm and shook
her, she exclaimed with a stupid grin on her wet lips:

"It is the feast-day. Every one is free, to-day is the feast."

"Roman nonsense!" interrupted the steward. "is my breakfast ready?"

While the old woman stood muttering some inaudible words, the slave came
into the room and said: