kles and kissed her feet, and repeated with
frantic persistence:

"Save me, Augusta ... save me ... do not let them kill me.... I have
been good to thee.... I am thy guardian--thy Caesar ... save me...."

"Save thee?" she repeated mechanically, "how can I?"

"Hide me somewhere--where they cannot find me"--he murmured, half
raising himself from the ground. "Thou wouldst not give up thy Caesar to
the fury of the populace ... thou wouldst not soil thy hands with the
blood of thy kinsman..."

Now he was embracing her knees and his hideous, distorted face was
looking up appealingly at her.

"Thou wouldst not soil thy hands with the blood of thy kinsman...."

Even as these words escaped his flaccid lips a roll of thunder louder
than any previous one came echoing from behind the Aventine Hill. Dea
Flavia shuddered. Was it Jove's warning, or already Jove's curse, the
curse of the gods on her for the treachery of her thoughts?

"Thou wouldst not soil thy hands with the blood of thy kinsman...." he
repeated pitiably.

"No! no!" she said hurriedly. "Not that.... I'll help thee!... What can
I do?"

"Let me hide in thy house...."

"Where?"

He pointed to the studio.

"There!" he said.

"No! no!" she exclaimed, and instinctively her arms were held out, as if
she would protect a sacred shrine.

"Thy workroom is private," he urged in tones of abject entreaty; "no one
would venture there ... only thy women slaves ever cross its
threshold.... I should be quite safe in the inner room ... thy women
would not betray me ... thou hast some that are mute ... they could
attend on me there, and no one would know of my presence until this
outrage hath subsided.... In a few hours mayhap the praetorian guard
will succeed in forcing a passage through the raging mob ... my legions
too are on their way from Germany ... they will be here soon ... they
were only four days' march behind me and my convoy ... they are but a
couple of days' march now from the city gates ... I could stay in there
... in thy private room ... with a few men to protect me ... and thy
women to attend on me ... no one else would know...."

He talked volubly, at times incoherently, with hoarse voice and quaking
lips. She tried with all her might to free herself from his convulsive
clutch--but he clung to her like a dying man would cling to the last
breath of life--like a drowning man would cling to the raft on which he
might find safety.

"In there----" he en