f ungilded,
unchased, plain steel, not even bright with polishing, but tarnished, all
but rusty, with exposure to rain, mist and sun; his plume and cloak rain-
faded and sun-faded till their crimson showed almost brown; his scabbard
plain, dingy leather; his saddle of similar cheap, durable leather, his
saddle-cloth of a crimson faded as brown as his cloak and plume. This was
precisely the Spartan simplicity which Aurelius, as more than half a
Stoic, had always affected, partly from an innate tendency towards self-
restraint and modesty, partly that his example might, at first, offset the
sumptuosity of Verus and, after his death, might inculcate, by example,
economy in his lavish and self-indulgent retinue.

Whatever the motive, by this semi-histrionic effort at self-effacement the
Emperor made himself tenfold conspicuous among his staff-officers, whose
plumes, cloaks, kilts, and saddle-cloths blazed with crimson, green and
gold, blue and silver and even crimson and gold.

Commodus, in any gear, was not only a tall, well-knit, impressive figure
of a man, but, in his most negligent moods, he had something about him
dominating, masterful, princely and Imperial. The sight of him cowed all
who could then see him. Steadily he eyed them as they finished their
tumultuary deployment and pressed forward to see and hear. When they were
packed as closely as possible till no more could get within earshot he
spoke:

"Fellow soldiers, what does this mean?"

All were too awed at the sight of their venerated Caesar for any man to
speak up at once and the Emperor repeated:

"Fellow-soldiers, what does this mean? Tell me, I am your fellow-soldier."

Then Sextius Baculus himself replied, choking and hesitating, quailing
before his lord:

"We are your loyal soldiers from Britain; a deputation come afoot and
afloat almost two thousand miles to warn you of what no man in Rome, for
fear of you more than of your treacherous Prefect, dares to warn you.
Perennis is no fit guardian of your safety; in fact he is of all men most
unfit. For more than two years now he has been laying his plans to have
you assassinated, and to make Emperor in your place his eldest son, the
darling of the Illyrian legionaries. We have come to save you, foil him
and see him and his dead."

"Fellow-soldiers," the Emperor spoke at once, loudly and clearly, "I
acclaim your purpose and welcome your good intentions. But I mean to prove
to you that I am in fact as w