been to seek some. There is yet a little in the temple of your
God; but the priests say that it is dedicated to the service of the
altar."

"That will not have spoiled it! Go, Lucius, and take it from the
priests. Divide it amongst the hundred men on the bulwark of Caesar. It
is the only thing that I can give them to show my gratitude."

Followed by Syphax, Cethegus now rode slowly home.

He stopped at the principal entrance to his house.

In answer to the call of Syphax, Thrax, a groom, opened the gate.

Cethegus dismounted and stroked the neck of his noble charger.

"Our next ride will be a sharp one, my Pluto--to victory or in flight!
Thrax, give him the white bread which was reserved for me."

The horse was led into the stables near at hand. The stalls were empty.
Pluto shared the spacious building only with the brown horse belonging
to Syphax. All the Prefect's other horses had been slaughtered and
devoured by the mercenaries.

The master of the house passed through the splendid vestibule and
atrium into the library.

The old ostiarius and secretary, the slave Fidus, who was past carrying
a spear, the only domestic in the house. All the slaves and freedmen
were upon the walls--either living or dead.

"Reach me the roll of Plutarch's Caesar, and the large goblet set with
amethysts--it scarcely needed their decoration--full of spring water."

The Prefect stayed in the library for some time. The old servant had
lighted the lamp, filled with costly oil of spikenard, as he had been
accustomed to do in times of peace.

Cethegus cast a long look at the numerous busts, Hermes, and statues,
which cast sharp shadows along the exquisite mosaic pavement.

There, upon pedestals or brackets, on which were inscribed their names,
stood small marble busts of almost all the heroes of Rome, from the
mythic Kings to the long rows of Consuls and Caesars, ended by Trajan,
Hadrian, and Constantine.

The ancestors of the "Cethegi" formed a numerous group.

An empty niche already contained the pedestal upon which his bust would
one day stand--the last on that side of the room, for he was the last
of his house.

But on another side there was a whole row of arches and empty niches,
destined for future scions of the family, not by marriage, but by
adoption, should the name of Cethegus be continued into more fortunate
generations.

As Cethegus walked slowly past the rows of busts, he chanced to look at
the niche destined