for thee to wear a shirt of mail to cover thy throat and
breast against the dagger of assassins. But the conspirators hushed
their talk in my presence. I tried to hear more and played the spy in
thy service, but my heart was burdened with loyalty for thee, so I came
thus early to put thee on thy guard."

The Caesar had once more resumed his restless walk up and down the room.
He was biting his fists, trying to restrain himself from striking the
noble informer as brutally as he did his slaves, for he loathed the
bearer of evil tidings almost as much as the secret traitors. He
suffered from an overwhelming fury of hatred and from an unquenchable
thirst for blood.

But three years ago the people and patricians had acclaimed him with
shouts and rejoicings; they had feasted in his honour, proclaimed his
godhead and his power, and now they were plotting to murder him! The
madman threw out his arms in a passionate longing for revenge.

"They would kill me," he cried hoarsely, "kill me!" ... And a demoniacal
laugh broke from his swollen throat. He tore the garments from off his
chest and buried his nails in his own flesh, whilst roar upon roar of
his mad laughter woke the echoes of his stately palace.

Then suddenly the paroxysm died completely down. An unnatural calm
succeeded the violent outbursts of rage. Caligula, with a corner of his
silken robe, wiped the perspiration from his streaming face. He threw
himself on a seat, and resting both elbows on his knees and his chin in
his hands, he stared contemplatively before him.

Of a truth this calm seemed even more awe-inspiring than the snarls and
cries of a while ago. Caius Nepos' sallow cheeks became still more ashen
in colour as he cast a quick glance round the room, feeling perhaps for
the first time to-day how completely he was at the mercy of a raving
lunatic if the latter should turn against him. But the Caesar sat there
for some time, ruminating, with great hollow eyes fixed on one spot on
the ground and gusts of stertorous breathing escaped from his chest.

After a while he spoke:

"Thou didst not tell me yet, O kind friend!" he said dully, "what the
traitors mean to do once they have murdered their Caesar. Whom would they
set up as his successor? They cannot all be emperors of Rome. For whose
sake then do they intend to commit this damnable treachery?"

"Nay, great Caesar!" replied Caius Nepos drily, "methinks they all have a
desire to become Emperor of Rome,