had called a traitor, whom he had twice
tried basely to kill, was the one man in the entire patriciate of Rome
who would be true to him. Even madmen have such instincts at times.
Caligula knew that he was doomed, the cries from below could leave no
doubt in his mind that, isolated as he was, cut off not only from his
legions but even from his guard, nothing could save him from the fury of
vengeance which threatened him from his entire people.

A wave of fatality swept over his maniacal sense of terror. He knew and
felt that if this man was a traitor then indeed could nothing save him;
and he knew and felt at the same time that while he was under this man's
protection no great harm could come to him.

Gradually this sense of fatality got the mastery over his cowardice, and
as Taurus Antinor watched the twitchings of that distorted face, he
could note that insensibly a resolution to follow his advice had found
its way in this madman's brain.

"I'll come with thee," said Caligula at last, and now his voice sounded
more firm, even whilst his hands released their grip on the praefect's
arm and his short body straightened itself out upon his trembling limbs.
"I'll come with thee, but may thy flesh wither on thy bones, thy hands
be palsied and thine eyes become sightless if thou hast a thought of
betraying thy Caesar."

To this senseless speech Taurus Antinor vouchsafed no reply.

"Then I pray thee," he said quietly, "wait here a while till I find the
necessary garments for thy disguise and mine, and also pen, ink and
parchment."

"Pen and ink? For what?"

"Thy proclamation of pardon, Caesar, signed by thy hand...."

"When I am in safety I will see to it," said Caligula with sudden
blandness, "thou saidst it thyself there is no time to lose."

"There is time to fulfil a promise and time to take what is the most
important measure for thy safety," rejoined Taurus Antinor.

"Thou dost not trust thy Caesar," said Caligula with a vicious snarl.

"No," was the praefect's curt reply.

It was characteristic of this tyrannical despot that at the praefect's
rough answer he laughed with obvious satisfaction. At the back of his
shrewd sense of self-preservation there had come the thought that the
man who had spoken that unequivocal "No!" had learnt to its fullest the
lesson of truth. He said nothing for a while, and when his laughter died
away in a kind of hysterical gasp, he made a gesture expressive of
indifference and al