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BROTHER AND SISTER 159
but a friendless boy. He felt as if he had heard the sentence
of early death ;
as if his innocence were nothing to such gods
as those whom his childhood had been taught to name ;
as if
the burden of an intolerable world were altogether too heavy
for him to understand or to bear. And yet he was not unsupported
by some vague hope in the dim, half-explored regions
of that new gospel of which he now had heard.
To Octavia the visits of her brother were almost the only
happiness left. As he entered she dismissed the slaves, for she
saw at a glance that some profound emotion had swept over
his mind, and longed to give him consolation.
In their forlornness the brother and sister always tried
to spare each other any needless pang. Octavia had never
hinted to Britannicus that Nero's base hand had often been
lifted to strike her. She did not tell him that on that morning
he had seized her by the hair, and in the frenzy of his
rage had almost strangled her. Nor would he tell her about
the infamous attack on their father's memory which he had
seen on Nero's table. He little dreamt that she knew of it
already, nay, even that, with coarse malice, Nero had shown
it to her, and read passages aloud in her tortured hearing on
purpose to humiliate and trouble her. Still less would he
reveal the threat which seemed to give fresh significance to
the feline gleam which he had caught a few days before in
the eyes of the horrible Locusta.
Yet by secret intuition each of them divined something of
what was in the heart of the other.
When Britannicus entered he found his sister gazing with
a sad smile at a gold coin of the island of Teos, which lay on
the palm of her hand.
'
What amuses you in that coin '
? he asked.
'
Look at it,' she said, pointing to the inscription eai/
'Ofcrafiiav 'the goddess Octavia.' 1 'I was thinking,
Britannicus, that if the other goddesses are as little
happy
as I am, I should prefer to be a mortal!'
Her brother smiled too, but remained silent. He dreaded
to deepen her sorrow.
'
Have you nothing to tell me, Britannicus ? ' she asked.
'
What is it which makes you so much sadder than your wont ? '
'
Nothing that I can tell you,' he answered. But ' oh, Octa-
1 A coin of Teos with this inscription is still extant. Mionnet, iv. 123.