tchless
for lightness and delicacy of touch, but to-day they trembled as he
lifted the laurel wreath from Caesar's head and unbuckled the padded
breast plate. The events of the day had shaken this man's soul to the
foundations. In his Eastern home he had been taught from his infancy to
respect life even in beasts, living exclusively on vegetables, and
holding all blood in abhorrence. He now felt the deepest loathing of all
about him; and a passionate longing for the peaceful and pure home among
sages, from which he had been snatched as a boy, came over him with
increasing vehemence. There was nothing here but what it defiled him to
handle, and his fingers shrank involuntarily from their task, as duty
compelled him to touch the limbs of a man who, to his fancy, was dripping
with human blood, and who was as much accursed by gods and men as though
he were a leper.

Arjuna made haste that he might escape from the presence of the horrible
man, and Caesar took no heed either of the pallor of his handsome brown
face or the trembling of his slender fingers, for a crowd of thoughts
made him blind and deaf to all that was going on around him. They
reverted first to the events of the day; but as the Indian removed the
warm surcoat, the night breeze blew coldly into the room, and he
shivered. Was it the spirit of the slain Tarautas which had floated in at
the open window? The cold breath which fanned his cheek was certainly no
mere draught. It was exactly like a human sigh, only it was cold instead
of warm. If it proceeded from the ghost of the dead gladiator he must be
quite close to him. And the fancy gained reality in his mind; he saw a
floating human form which beckoned him and softly laid a cold hand on his
shoulder.

He, Caesar, had linked his fate to that of the gladiator, and now
Tarautas had come to warn him. But Caracalla had no mind to follow him;
he forbade the apparition with a loud cry of "Away!" At this the Indian
started, and though he could scarcely utter the words, he besought Caesar
to be seated that he might take off his laced shoes; and then Caracalla
perceived that it was an illusion that had terrified him, and he shrugged
his shoulders, somewhat ashamed. While the slave was busy he wiped his
damp brow, saying to himself with a proud smile that of course spirits
never appeared in broad light and when others were present.

At last he dismissed the Indian and lay down. His head was burning, and
his heart beat