er before offered to mortal
man. Let me have a son, for whom I can strive, to whom I can bequeath
the inheritance of my life."

"Curses and blood stick to it! And even if I could enter at once
upon this inheritance, I should reject it. I will go, so that I may not
see your image grow still darker. But I beg one thing: when the day
comes--and it will come--when you are weary of all this bloodshed and
crime, and of the aim itself which necessitated such deeds, then call
me. I will come to you, wherever I may be, and I will wrest you from
the demoniac power which enthralls you, were it at the price of my own
life."

At first a smile of mockery passed across the Prefect's lips, but he
thought, "He still loves me. 'Tis good; I will call him when the work
is finished. Let us see if he can then resist--if he will refuse the
Empire of the world."

"Well," he said aloud, "I will call you when I need you. Farewell."

And, with a cold gesture, he dismissed the youth, who was overcome with
emotion.

But as the door closed behind Julius, the Prefect took a small medal of
embossed bronze from a box, and contemplated it for some time.

He was about to kiss it.

But suddenly the sarcastic expression again passed across his lips.

"Shame on thee, Cethegus!" he exclaimed, "before Caesar's face!"

And he put the medal back into the box.

It was the head of a woman, and very like Julius.

CHAPTER VII.

Meanwhile it had become quite dark. The slave brought the pretty bronze
lamp of Corinthian workmanship--an eagle, which carried the ball of the
sun in its beak, filled with scented Persian oil.

"A Gothic warrior waits outside, sir; he wishes to speak with you
alone. He looks very insignificant. Shall he lay down his arms?"

"No," answered Cethegus. "We do not fear the barbarians. Let him in."

The slave went, and Cethegus laid his right hand upon the dagger in the
bosom of his tunic.

A stately Goth entered, the cowl of his brown mantle drawn over his
head. He now threw it back.

Cethegus started forward in astonishment.

"What leads the King of the Goths to me?"

"Softly!" said Witichis. "No one need know what we two transact. You
know that yesterday and to-day my army has entered Rome from Regeta.
You do not know that we leave Rome to-morrow!"

Cethegus looked amazed.

"It surprises you?"

"The city is secure," said Cethegus quietly.

"Yes; but not the fidelity of the Romans.