rtuous man! No wonder that the legions love him who cannot withdraw
one lot from a sale of thousands, even to please an only brother,"
soliloquised Domitian.

"If you wish for the maid," went on Titus, taking no heed of the insult,
"the markets are open--buy her. It is my last word."

Suddenly Domitian grew angry, the false modesty left his face, his
tall form straightened itself, and he stared round with his blear,
evil-looking eyes.

"I appeal," he shouted, "I appeal from Caesar the Small to Caesar the
Great, from the murderer of a brave barbarian tribe to the conqueror
of the world. O Caesar, Titus here declared that all he has is mine. Yet
when I ask him for the gift of one captive girl he refuses me. Command,
I pray you, that he should keep his word."

Now the officers and the secretaries looked up, for of a sudden this
small matter had become very important. For long the quarrel between
Titus and his jealous brother had smouldered, now over the petty
question of a captive it had broken into flame.

The face of Titus grew hard and stern as that of some statue of the
offended Jove.

"Command, I pray you, father," he said, "that my brother should cease
to offer insult to me. Command also that he should cease to question my
will and my authority in matters great or small that are within my rule.
Since you are appealed to as Caesar, as Caesar judge, not of this thing
only but of all, for there is much between him and me that needs to be
made plain."

Vespasian looked round him uneasily, but seeing no escape and that
beneath the quarrel lay issues which were deep and wide, he spoke out in
his brave, simple-minded fashion.

"Sons," he said, "seeing that there are but two of you who together, or
one after the other, must inherit the world, it is an evil-omened thing
that you should quarrel thus, since on the chances of your enmity may
hang your own fates and the fates of peoples. Be reconciled, I pray
you. Is there not enough for both? As for the matter in hand--this is my
judgment. With all the spoils of Judaea, this fair maid is the property
of Titus. Titus, whose boast it is that he does not go back upon his
word, has decreed that she shall be sold and her price divided between
the sick soldiers and the poor. Therefore she is no longer his to give
away, even to his brother. With Titus I say--if you desire the girl,
Domitian, bid your agent buy her in the market."

"Aye, I will buy her," snarled Domitian, "bu