'Moving a thousand miles from Rome?'

'No,' he laughed, 'shaving your beard.' Meto, wading in the stream, was paying no attention to our conversation. Even so, Catilina leaned towards me and lowered his voice. 'Women like it when a man first grows a heard, or when he shaves one. It's the change that's exciting, you understand. Imagine Bethesda's reaction if you should suddenly appear in her bed with a naked face. There, you see, you're smiling. You know I'm right'

I did smile and even laughed a little, for the first time that day. I was suddenly at ease as I realized with surprise. The change in my mood was because of the cool shade and flowing water, the respite from Aratus's scowl and from the sight of Meto's delight in the stream, I told myself. It had nothing to do with Catilina's smile.

Meto emerged from the stream and joined us. He stood first on one leg and then on the other, drying his feet and slipping on his sandals. With the stream behind him and the sunlight glinting on the hair that hung over his face, he looked like one of those statues of unselfconscious youth that the Greeks so admire. Impossible, I thought, that he was almost a man. He was still too pretty, too boyish. Having grown up myself without the benefit of beauty, I was never quite sure whether his good looks were an advantage or not Certainly men_rlike Pompey, not to mention Catilina, had used their looks to further their careers; Marcus Caelius was of the same mould. On the other hand, Cicero was proof that plainness was no disadvantage. And for a man of no great means or ambition, as for a woman of the same station, beauty could be as much a disadvantage as a boon, attracting the wrong sorts of patrons and leading a young man to rely too much on his charm. I only wished that Meto had a more serious side to his nature, and a bit more common sense.

Meto finished fastening his sandals and sat down beside me. His smile was so open and honest that I felt foolish for worrying over him. The sunlight, where it pierced through the leafy canopy, was warm on my flesh. A breeze gently strummed the high grass alongside the stream. The world was silent except for the splashing of water, the singing of birds, and the faint, distant bleating of a goat which echoed off the hillside. Meto was as well equipped to find his way in the world as I had been, if not more so. What doors could I have opened with his looks and his charm, and what did it matter if he had no head for adding figures? I sighed. Was there nothing so simple that I could not find an excuse to brood over it?

'Well?' Meto said, looking at me expectantly.

'Well, what?'

Catilina drew back a little, pursing his lips. 'I suspect your son thinks we've been discussing another matter. You see, I told him at the stable that if you had no objection—'

'The mine, Papa, that abandoned silver mine up on Mount Argentum,' said Meto, suddenly excited.

'What are you talking about?' I looked from one to the other.

Catilina cleared his throat. 'Yesterday, as we rode up the Cassian Way, I happened to notice the trail on the mountainside to the east. Later I asked your foreman about it. Aratus told me that the mountain belongs to your neighbour and that the trail leads up to an old silver mine. This morning Tongilius and I rode over to have a look. I have a friend in the city, you see, who believes he's found ways to extract ore even from mines that others have deemed exhausted. One is always looking for such opportunities.'

'And did you see the place?'

'Only the goatherds' house, which is not far from the road. We spent a pleasant hour talking to the chief goatherd, who appears to be in charge of the place. He was perfectly agreeable about showing us the mine, but he asked us to come back later in the day, after the worst of the heat. Apparently the way is quite arduous. Tongilius and I were talking about it when we returned our horses to the stable, and Meto overheard. He asked to come with us; it wasn't my idea. I told him he would have to ask for your permission.' 'May I, Papa?' said Meto.

'Meto, you know how things stand between Gnaeus Claudius and myself. It's out of the question that you should go exploring on his property.'

'Ah, yes, Gnaeus Claudius, the owner of the estate,' said Catilina. 'But there's no problem there, as Gnaeus is away. The goatherd says he's ridden up north to have a look at another property, a place more suitable for farming. It seems he's quite willing to rent or sell his property here, as he believes the mine to be worthless and he has no taste for goatherding. It's a farm he wants, and so the mountain is available. Thus the goathered is quite happy to show it to me. I'm sure there would be no objection if Meto came along.'

'And does the goatherd know who you are?'

Catilina raised an eyebrow. 'Not exactly. I introduced Tongilius, and myself I introduced as Lucius Sergjus. There are quite a few Lucius Sergii around, after all—'

"Though not many with the cognomen Catilina at the end.'

'I dare say not'

'And only one with the name Catilina who also wears a chin-strap beard.'

'Not even one of those any more,' said Catilina, stroking his chin. 'Very well, Gordianus, I was not completely forthright with the man, but he's only a slave, after all. If I wish to be incognito here in the country, surely that doesn't surprise you. Didn't Marcus Caelius tell you that I would prefer anonymity while I'm here? I should think you'd prefer it that way youself.'

'My neighbours are no partisans of yours, Catilina. Quite the opposite. Indeed, I strongly doubt that Gnaeus Claudius would deal with you if he knew who you are, so you'll only be wasting your time going to have a look at his mine.'

'Now, Gordianus, one hardly has to like a man to do business with him; that's what lawyers are for. Beside, it's not I who would make an offer on the property. I have no money at all, only debts. I'm interested in the mine for my friend, and Tongilius would do the dealing. But seriously, Gordianus, we're far ahead of ourselves. The matter at hand is quite simple. I intend to have a look at the old mine, and.Meto would dearly like to come with me. He tells me he's never seen a mine. His education is vital to you, I know, and unless one happens to be impossibly rich or else a wretched slave, how many men have the opportunity to walk through such a place? It will be an edifying experience.'

I thought it over, glumly. Meto smiled at me expectantly and drew his eyebrows together. Had I spoiled him so shamelessly that he would try to charm his own father to sway his judgment? What sort of Roman father was I? The question stiffened my spine, but only for a moment. I was no more a typical Roman father than my family was a typical Roman family. Convention and piety were dothing for other men but had always fitted me poorly. I sighed and shook my head and was about to relent when the vision of Nemo loomed up before me.

'Out of the question,' I said.

'But, Papa—'

'Meto, you know better than to contradict me, especially in front of a guest.' -

'Your father is right,' said Catilina. 'His decision is all that counts. The mistake is mine for not thinking the matter through and putting the question properly. What I should have said was this: Would you like to accompany me, Gordianus, and to bring your son along with you?'

I opened my mouth at once to answer, but some intuition told me that no matter how strenuously I objected or how many arguments I marshalled, in the end my answer would be the same, and so why waste my breath? I shut my mouth, considered for a very brief moment, and, feeling Meto's eyes on me, said simply, 'Why not?'

A man at my time of life understandably grows cautious and staid, I told myself) but even virtues can become vices when too rigidly adhered to. Occasionally a man must do the unexpected, the unforeseen, the uncalled-for. And so I found myself later that afternoon, after the heat had begun to dissipate, riding a little way north on the Cassian Way to the gate that opened onto the property of my neighbour Gnaeus Claudius. The gate was a simple affair, meant only to keep goats from wandering out onto the highway. Tongilius dismounted, threw the bolt, and swung it open.