on my shoulder, as my father used to do; but his was so heavy, that the
weight pressed me down till I fell on my knees, crushed. This is no good
sign, you think? I see it in your face. I do not myself think so. And
how loudly I have called on him, of all the gods! The whole empire,
they say, men and women alike, besought the immortals unbidden for
the welfare of Titus. I, too, am their lord; but"--and he laughed
bitterly--"who has ever raised a hand in prayer for me of his own
impulse? My own mother always named my brother first. He has paid for
it,--But the rest!"

"They fear rather than love you," replied the philosopher. "He to
whom Phoebus Apollo appears may always expect some good to follow. And
yesterday--a happy omen, too--I overheard by chance a young Greek girl,
who believed herself unobserved, who of her own prompting fervently
entreated Asklepios to heal you. Nay, she collected all the coins in her
little purse, and had a goat and a cock sacrificed in your behalf."

"And you expect me to believe that!" said Caracalla, with a scornful
laugh.

But Philostratus eagerly replied:

"It is the pure truth. I went to the little temple because it was said
that Apollonius had left some documents there. Every word from his
pen is, as you know, of value to me in writing his history. The little
library was screened off from the cella by a curtain, and while I was
hunting through the manuscripts I heard a woman's voice."

"It spoke for some other Bassianus, Antoninus, Tarautus, or whatever
they choose to call me," Caesar broke in.

"Nay, my lord, not so. She prayed for you, the son of Severus. I spoke
to her afterwards. She had seen you yesterday morning, and fancied she
had noted how great and severe your sufferings were. This had gone to
her heart. So she went thither to pray and sacrifice for you, although
she knew that you were prosecuting her brother, the very painter of whom
I spoke. I would you too could have heard how fervently she addressed
the god, and then Hygeia!"

"A Greek, you say?" Caracalla remarked. "And she really did not know
you, or dream that you could hear her?"

"No, my lord; assuredly not. She is a sweet maid, and if you would care
to see her--"

Caesar had listened to the tale with great attention and evident
expectancy; but suddenly his face clouded, and, heedless of the slaves
who, under the guidance of his chamberlain Adventus, had now brought in
the portrait, he sprang up, went close