d into the heart and brain of the craven Greek, and he
winced and shrank beneath them as if a hot iron were searing his
quivering flesh.

"But we must hope for the best," went on Adauctus more cheerfully. "We
must take every precaution. Life and liberty are glorious gifts. We may
not rashly imperil them. I trust that our august mistress, standing so
near the throne, stands in no peculiar peril; and you may be sure her
power will be used for the protection of her friends. So," he added with
a laugh of keen intelligence, "if thou hast any special interest in the
fair Callirho[e:], be sure she enjoys the most potent patronage in Rome."

"But you, take you no precaution for yourself?" entreated the Greek.
"You know not the bitterness of the jealousy and hate of your enemies."

"Oh, yes, I do," the Imperial treasurer calmly replied, "As for me, my
work is here. By ruling righteously and dealing justly I can prevent
much fraud, and wrong, and suffering. I can shield the innocent and
frustrate the villany of public thieves--and there are many such in the
high places of this degenerate city. Our heroic ancestors decreed that
we must never dispair of our country. But I confess, were it not for
that salt of Christian faith that preserves the old Roman world, I
believe it would sink into moral putrescence. It is this divine leaven
which alone can leaven the whole mass."

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XVIII

THE MIDNIGHT PLOT.

The scene of our story is now transferred to the Palace of the Emperor
Galerius, one of the most sumptuous of the group of marble buildings
which crowned the Palatine Hill. It is the hour of midnight; and in one
of the most private chambers of the palace a secret conspiracy is in
progress, which has for its object the destruction of the
Christians--especially of those high in rank and influence. The lamps
in the aula and vestibule burned dimly, and, in iron sockets along the
outside of the palace walls, flared and smoked torches made of tow
covered with a coating of clay or plaster.[33]

Fausta, the mother of Galerius, and Furca, the high-priest of Cybele,
were already conferring upon their secret plot. With them was Black
Juba, who had just returned from gathering, at "the witching hour of
night," upon the unhallowed ground set apart for the burning of the
dead, certain baleful plants--wolf's bane, bitter briony, and
aconite--which she used in wicked spells and incantations. In