This went on for a long while in Croton,. . . .
Eumolpus was flushed with success, and so far forgot the former state of his
fortunes as to boast to his intimates that no one there could cross his good
pleasure, and that his own dependants would escape unpunished by the kindness of his
friends if they committed any crime in that city. But though I had lined my belly
well every day with the ever-growing supply of good things, and believed that
Fortune had turned away her face from keeping a watch on me, still I often thought
over my old life and my history, and kept saying to myself, Supposing some cunning
legacy-hunter sends a spy over to Africa and finds out our lies? Or supposing the
servant grows weary of his present luck and gives his friends a hint, or betrays us
out of spite, and exposes the whole plot? Of course we shall have to run away again;
we must start afresh as beggars, and call back the poverty we have now at last
driven out. Ah! gods and goddesses! the outlaw has a hard life; he is always waiting
to get what he deserves.". .