ht thus to take the law in thine own hands."

"Nay! as to that," he replied with equal calm, "I'll answer for mine own
actions. But the slave Nola shall not pass into thy hands, Augusta! Thou
hast wrought quite enough mischief as it is; be content and go thy way.
Leave the child in peace."

In these days of unbridled passions and unfettered tyranny, a man who
spoke thus to a daughter of the Caesars spoke at peril of his life. Both
Dea Flavia and Taurus Antinor knew this when they faced one another eye
to eye, their very souls in rebellion one against the other--his own
turbulent and fierce, with the hot blood from a remote land coursing in
his veins, blinding him to his own advantage, to his own future, to
everything save to his feeling of independence at all cost from the
oppression of this family of tyrants; her own almost serene in its
consciousness of limitless power.

For the moment her sense of dignity prevailed. Whatever she might do in
the future, she was comparatively helpless now. The praefect in the
discharge of his functions--second only to the Caesar--was all-powerful
where he stood.

Taurus Antinor was still the praefect of Rome, still a member of the
Senate and favourite of Caligula. He had her at a disadvantage now, just
as she had held him a while ago when she forced on the public sale of
the girl Nola. Therefore, though with a look she would have crushed the
insolent, and her delicate hands were clenched into fists that would
have chastised him then and there if they had the strength, she returned
his look of fierce defiance with her usual one of calm.

"Thou hast spoken, Taurus Antinor," she said coldly, "and in deference
to the law which thou dost represent I bow to thy commands. Art thou
content?" she added, seeing that he made no reply.

"Content?" he asked, puzzled at her meaning.

"Aye!" she said; "I asked thee if thou wert content. Thou hast
humiliated a daughter of Caesar, a humiliation which she is not like to
forget."

"I crave thy pardon if I have transgressed beyond the limits of my
duty."

"Thy duty? Nay, Taurus Antinor, a man's duties are as varied as a
woman's moods, and he is wisest who knows how to adapt the one to the
other. 'Tis not good, remember, to run counter to Dea Flavia's will.
'Tis much that thou must have forgotten, O praefect, ere thou didst set
thy so-called duty above the fulfilment of my wish."

"Nay, gracious lady," he said simply, "I had forgotten nothing.