ruel, steely eyes.

The slaves--those who had lost ears and tongue and those who spoke no
language save their own foreign one--had retreated to the far corners of
the room, up against the columns of Phrygian marble or the hangings of
Tyrian tapestries; their great uncomprehending eyes were fixed on that
compact group at the head of the table, where round the bowls of roses
and of lilies and the goblets of wine, the future of the Empire of Rome
was even now being discussed.

"The tumult can be easily provoked," said one of the guests presently--a
young man whose black hair and dark eyes bespoke his Oriental blood.
"The Caesar is certain to provoke it himself by some insane act of
tyrannical folly. Ye must all remember how, two years ago, during the
Megalesian games he ordered the women of his retinue to descend into the
arena and to engage the gladiators in combat. At this outrage the
discontent among the people nearly broke out into open revolt. It was
thou, Caius Nepos, who checked the tumult then."

"The hour was not ripe," said the latter, "and we were not allied. It
will be different to-morrow."

"How will it be to-morrow?"

"When the tumult is at its highest, he who has the surest hand shall
strike the Caesar down. I, in the meanwhile----"

"Then thou, Caius Nepos, art not certain of the sureness of thy hand?"
interposed Hortensius Martius who hitherto had taken no active part in
the discussion.

He lay on a couch at some distance from his host and had declined every
morsel offered to him by the waiting-maids; but he had drunk over
freely, and his good-looking young face looked flushed and dark beneath
its wealth of curls. Unlike his usual self he was ill-humoured and
almost morose to-night, and there was a dark, glowering look in his eyes
as from time to time he cast furtive glances towards the door.

"Nay, good Hortensius," said the host loftily, "mine will be the greater
part. The praetorian guard know and trust me. It will be my duty when
the Caesar is attacked to keep them from rushing to his aid. The army is
apt to forget a tyrant's crime, and to think of him only as a leader to
be obeyed. But when the guard hear my voice, they will understand and
will be true to me."

"'Tis I will strike," now broke in young Escanes, with all the
enthusiasm of his years. The ardour of leadership glowed upon his face,
and he seemed to challenge this small assembly to dispute his right to
the foremost place in the g