l you be
proscribed and your father executed, but whoever is known to have been
intimate with you or with your father will be in almost equal danger?
You should have gone to Rome in person to consult your father."

"He ordered me to stay here to protect his interests. We are rich,
Norbanus. We have much property in Antioch and many tenants to oversee.
I am not one of these modern irreligious wastrels; I obey my father--"

"And betray him in an idiotic letter!"

"Very well! Desert me while there is time!" said Sextus angrily.

"Don't be a fool! You are not the only proud man in the empire, Sextus.
I don't desert my friend for such a coward's reason as that he acted
thoughtlessly. But I will tell you what I think, whether or not that
pleases you, if only because I am your true friend. You are a rash,
impatient lover of the days gone by, possessed of genius that you betray
by your arrogant hastiness. So now you know what I think, and what all
your other friends think. We admire--we love our Sextus, son of
Maximus. And we confess to ourselves that our lives are in danger
because of that same Sextus, son of Maximus, whom we prefer above our
safety. After this, if you continue to deceive yourself, none can blame
me for it!"

Sextus smiled and waved a hand to him. It was no new revelation. He
understood the attitude of all his friends far better than he did his
own strange impulses that took possession of him as a rule when
circumstances least provided an excuse.

"My theory of loyalty to friendship," he remarked, "is that a man should
dare to do what he perceives is right, and thus should prove himself
entitled to respect."

"And your friends are, in consequence, to enjoy the privilege of
attending your crucifixion one of these days!" said Norbanus.

"Nonsense. Only slaves and highwaymen are crucified."

"They call any one a highwayman who is a fugitive from what our 'Roman
Hercules' calls justice," Norbanus answered with a gesture of
irritation. His own trick of finishing people's sentences did not annoy
Sextus nearly as much as Sextus's trick of pounding on inaccuracies
irritated him. He pressed his horse into a canter and for a while they
rode beside the stream called the "Donkey-drowner" without further
conversation, each man striving to subdue the ill-temper that was on the
verge of outbreak.

Romans of the old school valued inner calm as highly as they did the
outer semblances of dignity; even t