d be any relief to confide, or of whose sympathy
he could be sure. But those who watched him as he retired from the window
saw plainly that the idyl, which he had promised them should begin
to-day, would assuredly not do so for the next few hours at least, unless
some miracle should occur. No, he would have to wait awhile for the
pastoral joys he had promised himself. And it seemed as if, instead of
the satyr-play of which old Julius Paulinus had spoken, that fatal
whistle had given the signal for another act in Caracalla's terrible
life-tragedy.

The "friends" of the emperor looked at him anxiously as, with furrowed
brow, he asked, impatiently: "Macrinus not here yet?"

Theocritus and others who had looked with envy upon Melissa and her
relatives, and with distrust upon her union with the emperor, now
heartily wished the girl back again.

But the prefect Macrinus came not; and while the emperor, having sent
messengers to fetch Melissa, turned with darkly boding brow to his
station overlooking the brightly lighted race-course, still hoping the
augury would prove false, and the sunny day turn yet in his favor,
Macrinus was in the full belief that the gate of greatness and power was
opening to him. Superstitious as the emperor himself and every one else
of his time, he was to-day more firmly persuaded than ever of the
existence of men whose mysterious wisdom gave them powers to which even
he must bend--the hard-headed man who had raised himself from the lowest
to the highest station, next to the Caesar himself.

In past nights the Magian Serapion had caused him to see and hear much
that was incomprehensible. He believed in the powers exerted by that
remarkable man over spirits, and his ability to work miracles, for he had
proved in the most startling manner that he had perfect control even over
such a determined mind as that of the prefect. The evening before, the
magician had bidden Macrinus come to him at the third hour after sunrise
of the next day, which he had unhesitatingly promised to do. But the
emperor had risen later than usual this morning, and the prefect might
expect to be called to his master at any moment. In spite of this, and
although his absence threatened to rouse Caesar to fury, and everything
pointed to the necessity of his remaining within call, Macrinus, drawn by
an irresistible craving, had followed the invitation, which sounded more
like a command. This, indeed, had seemed to him decisive; for,