had but to say the word and that Empire
would be his. He had but to go back now, to find his way with softly
treading footsteps to the couch where Dea Flavia's exquisite body lay
stretched out in semi-unconsciousness. He had but to take her once more
in his arms, to murmur the words of love that--unspoken--seared his lips
even now; he had but to close his ears to the still small voice that was
God's, and Rome, the mistress of the world, and Dea Flavia, the peerless
woman, would be his at the word.

Rome and Dea Flavia! the two priceless guerdons of the earth! They
called to him now on the wings of the distant storm, from over the hills
and from across the grey, dull mist that obscured the sky.

The man stretched out his arms with a gesture of passionate longing. How
easy it were to take all! How impossible it seemed to give up everything
that made life glorious and sweet.

A voice low and insinuating trembled in the air.

"Take all!" it said, "it is thine for the taking. Thine by the will of
thousands, thine by the call of one pair of perfect lips ... Rome, the
unconquered queen ... Dea Flavia holding in her white hands a cup
brimming over with happiness ... all are thine at the word."

The silent watcher cried out in his loneliness and his agony; he held
his hands to his ears, for the voice grew more insidious and more real:

"The Empire of the world and Dea Flavia ... and in the balance what?...
an oath rendered to a tyrannical madman, the scourge and terror of
mankind ... an oath which reason itself doth repudiate with scorn ...
even thy God would not exact obedience from thee at such a price...."

His head fell upon his breast and his knees bent to the earth. It was
all so difficult ... it seemed well-nigh impossible now....

No words escaped his lips; he knelt here silent and alone before the
face of Rome that but waited to be conquered--before the face of God
veiled to his gaze, and around him the distant roll of thunder and the
confused shouts of the people from below.

Christian! this is thine hour! In silence and in tears thou must make
thy last stand against temptation greater mayhap than suffering manhood
hath ever had to withstand alone.

Everything in the man cried out to him to yield; his love for Dea and
his love for Rome, and that pride of manhood in him that calls for power
over other men. Born and bred in luxury-loving paganism, in the worship
of might and the deification of the imperium, th