ooked after the welfare and conduct of a schoolboy.

"Domine," said Antiochus, wiping his eyes, "I cannot dream that the
Senate and Pompeius will deny you your right to the second
consulship."

"But if they do? You know what Curio reports. What then?"

Antiochus shook his head.

"It would mean war, bloody war, the upturning of the whole world!"

"War, or--" and Caesar paused.

"What, my lord?" said the freedman.

"I cease either to be a care to myself or my enemies."

"I do not understand you, domine," ventured Antiochus, turning pale.

"I mean, good friend," said the proconsul, calmly, "that when I
consider how little life often seems worth, and how much disaster the
continuance of my act of living means to my fellow-men, I feel often
that I have no right to live."

Antiochus staggered with dread. Caesar was no longer talking wildly;
and the freedman knew that when in a calm mood the proconsul was
always perfectly serious.

"Domine, you have not rashly determined this?" he hinted.

"I have determined nothing. I never rashly determine anything. Hark!
Some one is at the door."

There was a loud military knock, and the clang of armour.

"Enter," commanded Caesar.

Decimus Mamercus hastened into the room. So great was his excitement
that his Roman discipline had forsaken him. He neglected to salute.

"News! news! Imperator! from Rome! News which will set all Italy
afire!"

Whereupon the man who had but just before been talking of suicide,
with the greatest possible deliberation seated himself on a
comfortable chair, arranged his dress, and remarked with perfect
coldness:--

"No tidings can justify a soldier in neglecting to salute his
general."

Decimus turned red with mortification, and saluted.

"Now," said Caesar, icily, "what have you to report?"

"Imperator," replied Decimus, trying to speak with unimpassioned
preciseness, "a messenger has just arrived from Rome. He reports that
the Senate and consuls have declared the Republic in peril, that the
veto of your tribunes has been over-ridden, and they themselves forced
to flee for their lives."

Caesar had carelessly dropped a writing tablet that he was holding, and
now he stooped slowly and picked it up again.

"The messenger is here?" he inquired, after a pause.

"He is," replied the centurion.

"Has he been duly refreshed after a hard ride?" was the next question.

"He has just come."

"Then let him have the best food and drink my b