een it and the towering heights of
imperial Palatine.

Dea Flavia at first--her musings one wild tangle of hopes, fears and
joys--did only vaguely listen for each recurrent cry as it came; and
thus, listening and watching, her ears became doubly sensitive and
acute, and caught the words more distinctly as they rolled on the
currents of the wind that blew them upwards from the arcades of the
Forum.

"Death to the Caesar!" That cry was always clear, and with it came, like
a complement or a corollary, the name of the praefect of Rome.

"Hail Taurus Antinor Caesar! Hail!"

The cry filled Dea Flavia's veins as with living fire. She longed to run
out into the streets now, at this moment, with the rain beating about
her and the storm raging overhead, and to call to the people to come
into her house, in their thousands and tens of thousands, and here to
fall down and worship the mighty hero who would rule over them all.

The people clamoured for him, and because of these clamours an almighty
love for the people of Rome filled the heart of the Augusta. She saw now
just what the imperium should be, just how supreme power should sit upon
a man. And she loved the people because the people saw it too. They
clamoured for the one man who would fulfil every ideal of Caesarship and
of might.

Valour yesterday, the sublimity of self-sacrifice, had appealed to them
with irresistible force, even though they did not understand the force
that had set these great virtues in motion. The hero of yesterday should
be the chosen of to-day, the god of to-morrow; let the brutish Caesar be
swept from before his path.

The people clamoured, and did they see the praefect of Rome standing
virile and powerful before them, they would fall on their knees and
acclaim him princeps, imperator, greater than great Augustus himself.

And in this very house, but a few steps from where Dea sat musing, were
the men, the patricians who were ready to accept the decision of the
people, who were all-powerful to make the legions acknowledge the new
Caesar, and ready to set the seal of official acceptance to the wild
desires of the plebs.

The patriciate of Rome had combined with the people to place its
destinies in Dea Flavia's hands. The Caesar's insane pronouncement in the
Circus yesterday had confirmed the wishes of the conspirators. All
envies and jealousies would best be set at rest if the kinswoman of
great Augustus chose the future Caesar, and secured