ely read, and wrote nervously on his tablets, then
erased all that he had inscribed, and paced up and down the room.
Presently the anxious head-freedman thrust his head into the
apartment.

"My lord, it is past midnight. The guests have long departed. There
will be serious injury done your health, if you take no food and
rest."

"My good Antiochus," replied the proconsul, "you are a faithful
friend."

The freedman--an elderly, half-Hellenized Asiatic--knelt and kissed
the Roman's robe.

"My lord knows that I would die for him."

"I believe you, Antiochus. The gods know I never needed a friend more
than now! Do not leave the room."

The general's eyes were glittering, his cheeks flushed with an
unhealthy colour. The freedman was startled.

"Domine, domine!" he began, "you are not well--let me send for
Calchas, the physician; a mild sleeping powder--"

For the first time in his long service of Caesar, Antiochus met with a
burst of wrath from his master.

"Vagabond! Do you think a sleeping potion will give peace to _me_?
Speak again of Calchas, and I'll have you crucified!"

"Domine, domine!" cried the trembling freedman; but Caesar swept on:--

"Don't go from the room! I am desperate to-night. I may lay violent
hands on myself. Why should I not ask you for a poisoned dagger?"

Antiochus cowered at his master's feet.

"Yes, why not? What have I to gain by living? I have won some little
fame. I have conquered all Gaul. I have invaded Britain. I have made
the Germans tremble. Life is an evil dream, a nightmare, a frightful
delusion. Death is real. Sleep--sleep--forever sleep! No care, no
ambition, no vexation, no anger, no sorrow. Cornelia, the wife of my
love, is asleep. Julia is asleep. All that I loved sleep. Why not I
also?"

"Domine, speak not so!" and Antiochus clasped the proconsul's knees.

Caesar bent down and lifted him up by the hand. When he spoke again,
the tone was entirely changed.

"Old friend, you have known me; have loved me. You were my
_pedagogue_[151] when I went to school at Rome. You taught me to ride
and fence and wrestle. You aided me to escape the myrmidons of Sulla.
You were with me in Greece. You shared my joy in my political
successes, my triumphs in the field. And now what am I to do? You know
the last advices from Rome; you know the determination of the consuls
to work my ruin. To-day no news has come at all, and for us no news is
the worst of news."

[151] Slave who l