she rearranged her disordered robe and shook
back the heavy masses of her hair. Then she stood quite still, with arms
hanging by her side, her head quite erect and her eyes fixed upon that
raving monster. When she saw that he had at last regained some semblance
of reason she said quite calmly:

"My gracious lord will work his way with his slave, and deal her what
death he desires."

"What!" he murmured incoherently, "what didst thou say?"

"'Tis death I choose, my lord," she said simply, "rather than a husband
who was not of mine own seeking."

For a moment then she did look death straight and calmly in the face,
for it was death that looked on her through those blood-shot eyes. He
had thrust his lower jaw forward, his teeth, large and yellow, looked
like the fangs of a wolf; stertorous breathing escaped his nostrils, and
his distorted fingers were working convulsively, like the claws of a
beast when it sees its prey.

Caligula would have strangled her then and there without compunction and
without remorse. She had defied him and thwarted him even more
completely than she knew herself; and there was no death so cruel that
he would not gladly have inflicted upon her then.

"Dost dare to defy me...!" he murmured hoarsely, "hast heard what I
threatened ..."

She put out her hand, quietly interrupting him.

"I heard the threat, my lord ... and have no fear," she said.

"No fear of death?"

"None, gracious lord. There is no yoke so heavy as a bond unhallowed.
No death so cruel as the breaking of a heart."

There was dead silence in the room now; only from a far distant rolls of
ceaseless thunder sent their angry echo through the oppressive air.
Caligula was staring at the girl as he would on some unearthly shape.
Gasping he had fallen back a few steps, the convulsive twitching of his
fingers ceased, his mouth closed with a snap, and great yellow patches
appeared upon his purple cheeks.

Then he slowly passed his hand across his streaming forehead, his
breathing became slower and more quiet, the heavy lids fell over the
protruding eyes.

Caius Julius Caesar Caligula was no fool. His perceptions, in fact,
became remarkably acute where his own interests were at stake, and he
had the power of curbing that demoniacal temper of his, even in its
maddest moment, if self-advantage suddenly demanded it.

He had formed a plan in his head for the trapping of the unknown man who
was to mount the throne of Caesar over th