tichis gave his horse the spur, and rode proudly and slowly upon
his way.

CHAPTER VI.

In his study at Rome, comfortably stretched upon the soft cushions of a
lectus, lay Cethegus the Prefect.

He was of good cheer.

His examination had ended with full acquittal. Only in case of an
immediate search in his house--such as the young King had ordered, but
which his death had frustrated--could discovery have been apprehended.

He had succeeded in gaining permission to complete the fortifications
of Rome, supplying the funds out of his own exchequer, which
circumstance still more increased his influence in that city.

The evening before he had held a meeting in the Catacombs. All the
reports were favourable; the patriots were increasing in number and
means.

The greater oppression which since the late occurrences at Ravenna
weighed upon the Italians, could but serve to add to the ranks of the
malcontents; and, which was the main thing, Cethegus now held all the
threads of the conspiracy in his own hands. Even the most jealous
Republicans implicitly acknowledged the necessity of committing the
conduct of affairs, until the day of deliverance, to the most gifted of
men.

The feeling against the barbarians had made such progress amongst all
Italians, that Cethegus could entertain the project of striking a blow
without the help of the Byzantines, as soon as ever Rome was
sufficiently fortified.

"For," he repeatedly told himself, "all foreign liberators are easily
summoned, but with difficulty discarded."

Musing thus, Cethegus reposed upon his lectus. He laid aside Caesar's
"Civil Wars," the leaves of which he had been turning over, and said to
himself:

"The gods must have great things in store for me; whenever I fall, it
is like a cat--upon my feet and unhurt. Ah! when things go well with
us, we like to share our content with others. But it is too dangerous a
pleasure to put trust in another, and Silence is the only faithful
goddess. And yet one is human, and would like----"

Here a slave entered--the old Ostiarius Fidus--and silently handed to
Cethegus a letter upon a flat golden salver.

"The bearer waits," he said, and left the room.

Cethegus took up the letter. But as soon as he recognised the design
upon the wax seal which secured the string twisted round the
tablets--the Dioscuri--he cried eagerly, "From Julius--at a happy
hour!" hastily untied the string, opened the