Oh, deep and cunning imperator! Said he: 'I cannot tell you the name of my informant; and really, my good son, why--why should I ?' There, spread before me on the table, so I knew he wished me to see it, was a letter which bore the signature of Manius and gave information of a certain council.

I could not make out the name, but I was able to recall how the great father had said to me, once, that when a man secretly puts blame upon another, the infamy he charges shall be only half his own.
Our imperator is no fool, my friend.

'A ship will be leaving the seventh day before the ides,' said he.

'_You_ will not be able to make it.' His meaning was clear.

It could bear my warning, if not me, and here it is.