to contain his own, and, to his astonishment, saw
that it was not empty.

"What is that?" he asked. "Lift up the lamp, secretary. Whose is that
bust standing in my place?"

"Forgive, master! The pedestal of that bust, one of the ancients,
needed reparation. I was obliged to remove it, and I placed it in the
empty niche to keep it from harm."

"Show a light. Still higher. Who can it be?"

And Cethegus read the short inscription upon the bust: "Tarquinius
Superbus, tyrant of Rome, died in exile; banished from the city by the
inhabitants on account of his monstrous despotism. A warning to future
generations."

Cethegus, in his youth, had himself composed this inscription.

He took the bust away, and placed it on one side.

"Away with the omen!" he cried.

Lost in thought, he entered his study.

He leaned his helm, shield, and sword against the couch. The slave
kindled the lamp which stood on the tortoise-shell table, brought the
goblet and the roll of papyrus, and left the room.

Cethegus took up the roll.

But he soon laid it down again. His forced composure could not last; it
was too unnatural. In the Roman Forum the Quirites drank with the
barbarians to the health of the King of the Goths and the ruin of the
Prefect of Rome, the Princeps Senatus! In two hours he was about to
attempt to wrest the city from the Goths. He could not fill up the
short pause with the perusal of a biography which he almost knew by
heart.

He drank thirstily of the water in the goblet.

Then he threw himself upon his couch.

"Was it an omen?" he asked himself. "But there are no omens for
those who do not believe in them. 'This is the only omen: to fight for
the fatherland,' says Homer. Truly, I fight not alone for my native
land; I fight still more for myself. But have not to-day's events
disgracefully proved that Rome is Cethegus, and Cethegus is Rome? These
name-forgetting Romans do not make Rome. The Rome of to-day is far more
Cethegus than the Rome of old was Caesar. Was not he, too, a tyrant in
the eyes of fools?"

He rose uneasily, and went up to the colossal statue of his great
ancestor.

"God-like Julius! If I could pray, I would pray now to thee! Help me!
Complete the work of thy grandchild. How hard have I striven since the
day when the idea of the renewal of thy empire was born within my
brain--born full-armed, like Pallas Athene from the head of Jupiter!
How have I fought, mentally and physically, by day and by