the lowest steps to collect his
thoughts and to quiet his loudly-beating heart. His vain cogitations
began all over again. Time slipped on-between the present moment and the
deed to be done there were but a certain number of minutes. He told
himself so, and his weary brain stirred more actively, suggesting to him
to feign illness and bring the Emperor to his bedside. But Hadrian was
physician enough to see that he was well, and even if he should allow
himself to be deceived, he, Antinous, was a deceiver. This thought filled
him with horror of himself and with dread for the future, and yet it was
the only plan that gave any hope of success. And even when he sprang to
his feet and walked hastily up and down among the out-houses he could hit
upon no other scheme. And how fast the minutes flew! The third hour after
midnight must be quite close at hand, and he had scarcely left himself
time to rush back into the palace, throw himself on his couch, and call
Mastor. Quite bewildered with agitation and tottering like a drunken man
he hastened back into the old tower where he had left his torch leaning
against the wall and looked up the stone stairs; it suddenly flashed
through his mind that he might go up again to fling himself down them.
What did he care for his miserable life.

His fall, his cry, would bring the Emperor down from his observatory and
he knew that he would not leave his bleeding favorite uncared for and
untended he could count upon that. And if then Hadrian watched by his bed
it would be that, perhaps, of a dying man, but not of a deceiver. Fully
determined on extreme measures, he tightened the girdle which held his
chiton above his hips and once more went out into the night to judge by
the stars what hour it was. He saw the slender sickle of the waning
moon-the same moon which at the full had been mirrored in the sea when he
had gone into the water to save Selene. The image of the pale girl rose
before him, tangibly distinct. He felt as if he held her once more in his
arms--saw her once more lying on her bed-could once more press his lips
to her cold brow. Then the vision vanished; instead he was possessed by a
wild desire to see her, and he said to himself that he could not die
without having seen her once more.

He looked about him in indecision. Before him lay one of the largest of
the storehouses that surrounded the tower. With his torch in one hand he
went in at the open door. In the large shed lay the c