of responsibility!

No, no; the idea was unheard-of--impossible! And yet Hadrian never gave
up a wish he had once expressed in words. The future loomed before his
soul like some overpowering foe. Suffering, unrest, and misfortune stared
him in the face, turn which way he would.

What was the hideous fatality that threatened his sovereign? It was
approaching, it must come if no one--aye, if no one should be found to
stand between him and the impending blow, and to receive in his own
breast--in his own heart, bared to receive the wound--the spear hurled by
the vengeful god. And he--he, and he alone was the one who might do this.

The thought flashed into his mind like a sudden blaze of light; and if he
should find the courage to devote himself to death for his dear master
all his sins against him would be expiated; then--then--oh, how lovely a
thought!--then might he not find entrance into the gates of that realm of
bliss which Selene's prayers had opened to him? There he would see his
mother again and his father, and by and bye his brothers and sisters--but
now, at once in a few minutes Her whom he loved and who had trodden the
ways of death before him.

An exquisite sense of hope such as he had never felt before flooded his
soul. There lay the Nile--here was a boat. He gave it a strong push into
the stream and with a powerful leap, as when hunting he had often sprung
from rock to rock, he jumped into the boat. He had just seized an oar
when Mastor, who had been desired by the Emperor to seek him, recognized
him in the moonlight and desired him to return with him to the tents.

But Antinous did not obey. As he pushed out into the stream he called
out:

"Greet my Lord from me--greet him lovingly, a thousand times, and tell
him Antinous loved him more than his life. Fate demands a victim. The
world cannot dispense with Hadrian, but Antinous is a mere nonentity,
whom none will miss but Caesar, and for him Antinous flings himself into
the jaws of death."

"Stay-stop! hapless boy, come back!" shouted the slave, and leaping into
a boat he followed that of the Bithynian, which, impelled by strong and
steady strokes, flew away into the current.

Mastor rowed with all his might, but he could not gain upon the boat he
was pursuing. Thus in a wild race both reached the middle of the stream.
There, the slave saw Antinous fling away his oar, and an instant later he
heard Antinous call loudly on the name of Selene, and then, i