EDGAR RICE BURROUGHS
“A knife between his ribs would do him good,” muttered another.
“You will not give me what I asked?” demanded the youth.
“Shut up,” said the leader. “Come along now, men,” and carrying Favonia, whom they wrapped in a soiled and ragged cloak, they left the home of Septimus Favonius unobserved; and as two men carried a heavy bundle through the dark shadows beneath the shadowy trees the son of Tabernarius started away in the opposite direction. . . .
A youth in soiled and ragged tunic and rough sandals approached the gates of Caesar’s palace. A legionary challenged him, holding him at a distance with the point of his pike.
“What do you loitering by the palace of Caesar by night?” demanded the legionary.
“I have a message for Caesar,” replied the youth.
The legionary guffawed. “Will you come in or shall I send Caesar out to you?” he demanded, ironically.
“You may take the message to him yourself, soldier,” replied the other, “and if you know what is good for you, you will not delay.”
The seriousness of the youth’s voice finally compelled the attention of the legionary. “Well,” he demanded, “out with it. What message have you for Caesar?”
“Hasten to him and tell him that the daughter of Septimus Favonius has been abducted and that if he hastens he will find her in the deserted house that stands upon the corner opposite the chariot entrance to the Colosseum.”
“Who are you?” demanded the legionary.
“Never mind,” said the youth. “Tomorrow I shall come for my reward,” and he turned and sped away before the legionary could detain him.
“At this rate midnight will never come,” said von Harben.
Mallius Lepus laid a hand upon the shoulder of his friend. “You are impatient, but remember that it will be safer for Favonia, as well as for us, if we wait until after midnight, for the streets now must be full of searchers. All afternoon we
184
