was certainly awarded to this impostor, a horror
of the audience, a hatred of this race of fools, and a craving for the
peace and silence of the pastures mastered every feeling in his mind. He
dashed through the mass of people waiting at the wings, and emerged
in the open air. His old rival and friend Metas of Corinth was waiting
there with an anxious face.

"Quick, Policles, quick!" he cried. "My pony is tethered behind yonder
grove. A grey he is, with red trappings. Get you gone as hard as hoof
will bear you, for if you are taken you will have no easy death."

"No easy death! What mean you, Metas? Who is the fellow?"

"Great Jupiter! did you not know? Where have you lived? It is Nero
the Emperor! Never would he pardon what you have said about his voice.
Quick, man, quick, or the guards will be at your heels!"

An hour later the shepherd was well on his way to his mountain home, and
about the same time the Emperor, having received the Chaplet of Olympia
for the incomparable excellence of his performance, was making inquiries
with a frowning brow as to who the insolent person might be who had
dared to utter such contemptuous criticisms.

"Bring him to me here this instant," said he, "and let Marcus with his
knife and branding-iron be in attendance."

"If it please you, great Caesar," said Arsenius Platus, the officer of
attendance, "the man cannot be found, and there are some very strange
rumours flying about."

"Rumours!" cried the angry Nero. "What do you mean, Arsenius? I tell you
that the fellow was an ignorant upstart, with the bearing of a boor and
the voice of a peacock. I tell you also that there are a good many who
are as guilty as he among the people, for I heard them with my own ears
raise cheers for him when he had sung his ridiculous ode. I have half
a mind to burn their town about their ears so that they may remember my
visit."

"It is not to be wondered at if he won their votes, Caesar," said the
soldier, "for from what I hear it would have been no disgrace had you,
even you, been conquered in this conquest."

"I conquered! You are mad, Arsenius. What do you mean?"

"None know him, great Caesar! He came from the mountains, and he
disappeared into the mountains. You marked the wildness and strange
beauty of his face. It is whispered that for once the great god Pan has
condescended to measure himself against a mortal."

The cloud cleared from Nero's brow. "Of course, Arsenius! You are right!
No