dite's girdle of the
Graces.

"Ha, by Eros and Anteros!" cried Massurius, and sprang down from the
triclinium with an unsteady step amidst the group.

"Let us draw lots for the girls," said Piso; "I have new dice made from
the bones of the gazelle. Let us inaugurate them."

"Let our festal King decide," proposed Marcus.

"No, freedom! freedom at least in love!" cried Massurius, and roughly
caught the goddess by the arm; "and music. Hey there! Music!"

"Music!" ordered Kallistratos.

But before the cymbal-players could begin, the entrance-doors were
hastily thrown open, and pushing the slaves who tried to stop him
aside, Scaevola rushed in. He was deadly pale.

"You here! I really find you here, Cethegus! at this moment!" he cried.

"What's the matter?" asked the Prefect, quietly taking the wreath of
roses off his head.

"What's the matter!" repeated Scaevola. "The fatherland trembles between
Scylla and Charybdis! The Gothic Dukes, Thulun, Ibba, and Pitza----"

"Well?" asked Lucius Licinius.

"Are murdered!"

"Triumph!" shouted the young Roman, and let loose the dancer whom he
held in his arms.

"A fine triumph!" said the jurist angrily. "When the news reached
Ravenna, the mob accused the Queen; they stormed the palace--but
Amalaswintha had escaped."

"Whither?" asked Cethegus, starting up.

"Whither! Upon a Grecian ship--to Byzantium."

Cethegus frowned and silently set down his cup.

"But the worst is that the Goths mean to dethrone her, and choose a
King."

"A King?" said Cethegus. "Well, I will call the Senate together. The
Romans, too, shall choose."

"Whom? what shall we choose?" asked Scaevola.

But Cethegus was not obliged to answer.

Before he could speak Lucius shouted:

"A Dictator! Away, away to the Senate!"

"To the Senate!" repeated Cethegus majestically. "Syphax, my mantle!"

"Here, master, and the sword as well," whispered the Moor. "I always
bring it with me, in case of need."

And host and guests, staggering, followed Cethegus, who, the only
completely sober man amongst them, was the first out of the house and
into the street.

CHAPTER XII.

In one of the small rooms of the Emperor's palace in Byzantium, a short
time after the Feast of the Floralia, a little man of insignificant
appearance was pacing to and fro, lost in anxious thought.

The room was quiet and lonely. Although outside it was broad daylight,
the bay-window, which loo