“No; nor a long time before!” Julian declared.  “I must have a nearer look.”

“Careful!  You will wake her!”

Julian’s face showed a sneer at his companion’s concern.

“I’ll have a care not to wake the old Boeotian,” he said.

He stepped between Laodice and her sleeping servant.  The mute with the stupor of slumber further to disable his dulled hearing, did not move.

“Young!” Philadelphus exclaimed in a whisper.  “And new to the life!”

“Pfui!” Julian scoffed.  “Sleep makes even Venus look innocent!”

“Then this is the most innocent wickedness I have seen in months!”

“So you catalogue innocence as a charm!  It’s not here.  But if she had no beauty but that eyelash I’d be speared upon it!”

Philadelphus turned toward the old servant plunged in the exhausted sleep of weary age.

“Thou grizzled nightmare!” he exclaimed vindictively.

He glanced again at the girl.  Julian had knelt beside her.  Between the two men passed a look that was mutually understood.

“Remember,” Julian whispered, “you are a married man.”

Philadelphus paled suddenly with anger as the intent of his companion dawned upon him, but he put off his temper shrewdly.

“And so approaching a time when wayside beauties will no longer be free to me,” he said, cutting off his fellow in the beginning of his preemption.  “And you have a long freedom before you.”

There was so much challenge in his manner that Julian accepted it.  He reached into his tunic and drew forth a pair of dice.

“We will play for her,” he said.

The Maccabee put the tesserae aside.

“We will not use them,” he said.  “I know them to be cogged.  Let us have the judgment of a coin.”

A bronze coin of Agrippa was produced.  Julian in getting at his purse brushed against the sleeping girl and as the pair glanced at her before they tossed, her large eyes opened full in Julian’s face.  A moment, almost breathless for the two, and terror flared up in her eyes.  She started up, but Julian’s hand dropped on her.

“Peace, Phryne!” he said.

She shrank from his touch, literally into the arms upon which Philadelphus rested his weight.  She looked up into his eyes, and saw them soften with a smile, and moved no farther.  Philadelphus took the coin.

“Let Vespasian decide for me,” he said.

“For me Fortunatus,” said Julian.

Philadelphus filliped the coin and flung out a strong and fending hand against his fellow covering it.  Under the brightening day, the lowering profile of the old plebeian emperor Vespasian showed distinctly on the newly minted bronze.

Julian made a sharp menacing sound, and with clenched hands rose on his knees.  But Philadelphus looked at him steadily, half-amused at the implied threat, half-inviting its fulfilment, and under his gaze, Julian rose slowly and drew away.  Philadelphus tossed the coin after him.  His cousin picked it up and put it in his purse.