ed his son's guilt; the facility of his escape; and it might
be that treason stood on the very threshold, ready to strike. He
determined to sift the matter; and the guard now summoned, the parties
were separated--each awaiting the fiat of the monarch.

"Where is Virius Lupus?" was the emperor's first inquiry.

"He hath not returned from the apartments of the empress."

"Let this slave be bound," cried Cedric. "Force him to conduct you
even to the place whence, blindfold, he hath just led me; and if you
find not a nest of traitors, my own head shall be the forfeit."

Dark and fearful was the flash that shot from the emperor's eye on the
devoted eunuch. Pale and trembling he fell on his knees, supplicating
with uplifted hands for mercy. He knew it was vain to dissemble.

"And what wert thou doing in such perilous company?" inquired the
emperor, turning to Cedric, and in a voice which made him shrink.

"Let the centurion, Diogenes Verecundus, be sought out. He waits my
return by the Forum gate. To him the city owes a discovery of this
plot, and Rome her monarch!"

The faithful centurion was soon found. The eunuch conducted them
secretly to the vault. The conspirators were seized in the very height
of their anticipated success. The roll containing the names of the
leaders, the plan of attack, and the disposition of the rebellious
troops, was discovered; and the morning sun darted a fearful ray on
the ghastly and bleeding heads uplifted on the walls and battlements
of the imperial palace.

But with misplaced clemency the monster Caracalla was again pardoned.
The centurion Diogenes Verecundus was raised to the dignity of
Sexumvir. The only reward claimed by the generous and sturdy Briton
was an act of immunity for his master, who was merely dismissed from
his post and banished the kingdom.

[22] This tale was written for the _Traditions of
the County of York_. It appeared by permission in an Annual
entitled _The White Rose of York_: but having only had a local
circulation at the time, and having been carefully revised by
the author during the last winter of his life, it finds a place
here.

[23] Aldborough

[24] Lubinus in Juven. p. 294.

* * * * *

[i] Pile or Peel of Foundrey, both names are used.

[ii] This seems to be a slight misquote. Oliver Goldsmith's
poem starts with "For still I tried each fickle art"