Antipater sat in silence, thinking for a
moment, his chin upon his breast. Soon the thought of his enemies and
their doom brightened his eyes and lifted the corners of his mouth a
little and set his lips quivering. He leaned forward upon a table,
softly, as if in fear that some eye would observe him. One might have
heard then that menacing, Herodian rumble in his throat. He seemed to
caress the table with his hands.
"Dear Appius! Good Vergilius!" he muttered, seizing a piece of vellum
and crushing it in his hand. "Soon my power shall close upon you. And
Arria, my pretty maiden, you shall repair my heart with kisses."
A pet kitten leaped upon the table. It seemed to startle him, and he
struck it dead with his hand.
Then he sprang up suddenly and looked about, a feline stealth upon him,
and ran with catlike paces to the deck.
"Get to work, you sea-rats!" he roared. "Every man to his place. If
we are not gone to sea before the moon is up, some of you will be gone
to Hades."
In half a moment slaves were up in the rigging and rushing across the
deck and tumbling into the galley.
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