or with one
knee, holding up against his forehead, as custom demanded on a solemn
occasion, the desk on which rested the imperial decree. He rendered this
act of homage simply and loyally, as the outward sign of that sacrifice
which the Divine Master had demanded of him.

Faithful to his instincts of petty tyranny, the Caesar kept the praefect
of Rome kneeling before him for close on half an hour; all this while
volleys of vituperations poured from his mouth against all traitors in
general, and more especially against the praefect whom he accused of
selling his services only in order to gain his own ends.

It was only when Taurus Antinor had reminded him for the third time that
he was placing his life in grave jeopardy with all this delay that he
ultimately snatched up the pen and put his name to the decree.

After that both the men donned the dark garments of the fugitive scribe.
With the proclamation of pardon rolled up tightly and hidden within the
folds of his tunic, Taurus Antinor led the way out of the lararium.

The afternoon light was slowly sinking into the embrace of evening. The
vast deserted palace, with its rows of monumental columns and statues of
stone gods looked spectral and mysterious in the fast gathering gloom.

When exploring the building in search of disguises Taurus Antinor had
taken note of the minor exits which gave on the more isolated portions
of the imperial gardens; to one of these did he now conduct the Caesar
and suddenly the outer air struck on the faces of the two men and they
found themselves in the open, in the waning light of day.

Unbroken now by the solid marble walls which had shut out most of the
noise from the streets, the shouts that came from the slopes of the hill
struck more clearly upon the ear. The sound travelling through the
mist-laden air seemed to come more especially from the northwestern
front of the palace of Augustus, which here faces that of the late
Emperor Tiberius, with the new gigantic wing built recently thereunto by
Caligula.

Here a vast multitude appeared to have congregated. The cries of
"Death!" seemed ominously loud and near, and through them there was a
dull murmur as of an angry mob foiled in its lust.

The Caesar uttered a cry of terror and his knees gave under him. He
cowered on the ground, clutching at the praefect's robe and hiding his
face in the folds of his mantle.

"They will kill me!" he stammered thickly. "I dare not go, praefect!...