he shadow that was satisfied with eels for
supper and the immortal Paulus whom an empire worshiped. Remains me--the
third part--Commodus! You shall regret those two dead parts of me!"

He hurled the lighted lamp into the midst of them and smashed it, then,
in darkness, strode along the tunnel muttering and cursing as he went--
stark naked.

X. "ROME IS TOO MUCH RULED BY WOMEN!"

"He is in the bath," said Marcia. She and Galen were alone with
Pertinax, who looked splendid in his official toga. She was herself in
disarray. Her woman had tried to dress her hair on the way in the
litter; one long coil of it was tumbling on her shoulder. She looked
almost drunken.

"Where is Flavia Titiana?" she demanded.

"Out," said Pertinax and shut his lips. He never let himself discuss
his wife's activities. The peasant in him, and the orthodox grammarian,
preferred less scandalous subjects.

Marcia stared long at him, her liquid, lazy eyes, suggesting banked
fires in their depths, looking for signs of spirit that should rise to
the occasion. But Pertinax preferred to choose his own occasions.

"Commodus is in the bath," Marcia repeated. "He will stay there until
night comes. He is sulking. He has his tablets with him--writes and
writes, then scratches out. He has shown what he writes to nobody, but
he has sent for Livius."

"We should have killed that dog," said Pertinax, which brought a sudden
laugh from Galen.

"A dog's death never saved an empire," Galen volunteered. "If you had
murdered Livius the crisis would have come a few days sooner, that is
all."

"It is the crisis. It has come," said Marcia. "Commodus came storming
into my apartment, and I thought he meant to kill me with his own hands.
Usually I am not afraid of him. This time he turned my strength to
water. He yelled 'Christians!' at me, 'Christians! You and your
Christians!' He was unbathed. He was half-naked. He was sweaty from
his exercise. His hair was ruffled; he had torn out some of it. His
scowl was frightful--it was freezing."

"He is quite mad," Galen commented.

"I tried to make him understand this could not be a plot or I would
certainly have heard of it," Marcia went on with suppressed excitement.
"I said it was the madness of one fanatic, that nobody could foresee.
He wouldn't listen. He out-roared me. He even raised his fist to
strike. He swore it was another of my plans to keep him out of the
arena. I b