," she said with a little sigh. "He hath
naught to do with me."

"He made thee for man's delight, to gladden the heart of those on whom
thy glance doth rest."

She had ordered him to sit on a pile of cushions which lay not far from
her chair. Thus was he almost at her feet, and she could look down upon
his massive shoulders and on his head bent slightly forward as he spoke.

She thought then how like unto a ruler of men he was, how much strength
and power did his whole person express. She wondered, with a happy
little feeling of anticipation, how he would take the news which she
would impart to him, what he would say, how he would look when he knew
that she was prepared to crown him with the diadem of Augustus, and to
bestow on him the full gifts of her love.

Time was precious, and the next few moments would satisfy her
wonderment. She longed to see the fire of ambition light up his earnest
face: the glow of love smouldering in his eyes would render their glance
exquisitely sweet.

But for the moment she would have liked to put the more serious issues
off for a while, she would have liked to sit here for many hours to
come, with him close by at her feet, her ears pleasantly tickled by his
gentle words of bold admiration yet profound respect. Had he not said
that she was made to gladden the heart of those on whom her glance did
rest? And a sense of sadness had crept into her heart as he thus spoke,
for memory had conjured up before her mind the miseries which had
followed in her wake these few days past.

"I have brought naught but misery," she said with a sigh, "to those whom
I would bless."

"Joy to me, Augusta," he rejoined earnestly, "since the day I first
beheld thee."

"Menecreta is dead," she whispered; "dost remember?"

"I remember."

She paused a while, then said abruptly:

"And the Caesar is a fugitive."

"Heavens above!" he exclaimed, and the whole expression of his face
changed suddenly; "a fugitive?... when?... where...?"

"The people are wrathful against him," she said; "they surrounded his
palace, and even...."

The words died on her lips. The shout of "Death to the Caesar! Death!"
had come distinctly from afar. He jumped to his feet, and she saw that
his face now looked careworn and anxious.

"Where is the Caesar?" he asked hurriedly.

"He is a fugitive, I tell thee. The rabble fired his palace to force him
to come out of it and face them. But he ran away through the secret
passage