When and where we shall meet again I do not know, but be sure that we shall meet." Then Marcus left the portico.
Benoni watched him go, and as he watched, an evil look gathered on his face.
"Threatened.

Trodden to the dirt.

Outwitted by that Roman boy," he murmured.

"Is there any cup of shame left for me to drink?
Who is the traitor and how much does he know?
Something, but not all, else my arrest could scarcely have been left to the fancy of this patrician, favourite though he be.

Yes, my lord Marcus, I too am sure that we shall meet again, but the fashion of that meeting may be little to your taste.
You have had your hour, mine is to come.