A Thorny Path — Complete

  CHAPTER XXIX.

  While the lady Euryale preceded her young charge with a lamp up anarrow, dark staircase, Alexander waited in one of the audience-roomstill the emperor should call him. The high-priest of Serapis, severalsoothsayers of the temple, Aristides, the new head of the night-watch,and other "friends" of the monarch had accompanied him thus far. Butadmittance to the innermost apartments had not been permitted, forCaracalla had ordered the magician Serapion to call up spirits beforehim, and was having the future declared to him in the presence of theprefect of the praetorians and a few other trusty followers.

  The deputation of citizens, who had come to apologize to Caesar forthe annoying occurrences in the Circus, had been told to wait till theexorcisms were over. Alexander would have preferred to hold alooffrom the others, but no one here seemed to think ill of him for histhoughtless behavior. On the contrary, the courtiers pressed roundhim--the brother of the future empress-with the greatest assiduity:the high-priest inquired after his brother Philip; and Seleukus, themerchant, who had come with the deputation, addressed many flatteringremarks to him on his sister's beauty. Some of the Roman senators whoseadvances he had received coldly enough at first, now took up his wholeattention, and described to him the works of art and the paintingsin the new baths of Caracalla; they advised him to offer himself as acandidate for the ornamentation of some of the unfinished rooms withfrescoes, and led him to expect their support. In short, they behavedtoward the young man as if he might command their services, in spite oftheir gray hairs. But Alexander saw through their purpose.

  Their discourse ceased suddenly, for voices were audible in theemperor's apartments, and they all listened with outstretched necks andbated breath if they might catch a word or two.

  Alexander only regretted not having either charcoal or tablets at hand,that he might fix their intent faces on the wood; but at last he stoodup, for the door was opened and the emperor entered from the tablinum,accompanied by the magician who had shown Caesar several spirits of thedeparted. In the middle of the demonstration, at Caracalla's desire, thebeheaded Papinian had appeared in answer to Serapion's call. Invisiblehands replaced his severed head upon his shoulders, and, having greetedhis sovereign, he promised him good fortune. Last of all great Alexanderhad appeared, and assured the emperor in verse, and with many a floweryphrase, that the soul of Roxana had chosen the form of Melissa to dwellin. Caracalla would enjoy the greatest happiness through her, as longas she was not alienated from him by love for another man. Should thishappen, Roxana would be destroyed and her whole race with her, butCaesar's glory and greatness would reach its highest point. The monarchneed have no misgivings in continuing to live out his (Alexander's)life. The spirit of his godlike father Severus watched over him, and hadgiven him a counselor in the person of Macrinus, in whose mortal bodythe soul of Scipio Africanus had awakened to a new life.

  With this, the apparition, which, like the others, had shown itself asa colored picture moving to and fro upon the darkened wall of thetablinum, vanished. The voice of the great Macedonian sounded hollow andunearthly, but what he said had interested the emperor deeply and raisedhis spirits.

  However, his wish to see more spirits had remained unsatisfied. Themagician, who remained upon his knees with uplifted hands while theapparitions were visible, declared that the forces he was obliged toemploy in exercising his magic power over the spirits had exhausted him.His fine, bearded face was deathly pale, and his tall form trembled andshook. His assistants had silently disappeared. They had kept themselvesand their great scrolls concealed behind a curtain. Serapion explainedthat they were his pupils, whose office it was to support hisincantations by efficient formulas.

  Caracalla dismissed him graciously, then turning to the assembledcompany, he gave with much affability a detailed account of the wondershe had seen and heard.

  "A marvelous man, this Serapion," he exclaimed to the high-priestTimotheus--"a master in his art. What he said before proceeding to theincantations is convincing, and explains much to me. According to him,magic holds the same relation to religion as power to love, as thecommand to the request. Power! What magic effect it has in real life? Wehave seen its influence upon the spirits, and who among the children ofmen can resist it? To it I owe my greatest results, and hope to be stillfurther indebted. Even reluctant love must bow to it."

  He gave a self-satisfied laugh, and continued: "As the pious worshiperof the gods can move the heavenly ones by prayer and sacrifice, so--thewondrous man declared--the magician can force them by means of hissecret lore to do his will. Therefore, he who knows and can call thegods and spirits by the right name, him they must obey, as the slavehis master. The sages who served the Pharaohs in the gray dawn oftime succeeded in fathoming the mystery of these names given to theeverlasting ones at their birth, and their wisdom has come down to himthrough the generations as a priceless secret. But it is not sufficientto murmur the name to one's self, or be able to write it down. Everysyllable has its special meaning like every member of the human frame.It depends, too, on how it is pronounced and where the emphasis lies;and this true name, containing in itself the spiritual essence of theimmortals, and the outward sign of their presence, is different againfrom the names by which they are known among men.

  "Could I have any suspicion--and here Serapion addressed himself tome--which god he forced to obey him when he uttered the words, 'AbarBarbarie Eloce Sabaoth Pachnuphis,' and more like it! I have onlyremembered the first few words. But, he continued, it was not enough tobe able to pronounce these words. The heavenly spirits would submit onlyto those mortals who shared in some of their highest characteristics.Before the Magian dared to call them, he must purify his soul from allsensual taint, and sanctify his body by long and severe fasting. Whenthe Magian succeeded, as he had done in these days, in rendering himselfimpervious to the allurements of the senses, and in making his soul, asfar as was humanly possible, independent of the body, only then hadhe attained to that degree of godliness which entitled him to haveintercourse with the heavenly ones and the entire spirit-world as withhis equals, and to subdue them to his will.

  "He exerted his power, and we saw with our bodily eyes that the spiritscame to his call. But we discovered that it was not done by wordsalone. What a noble-looking man he is! And the mortifications that hepractices--these, too, are heroic deeds! The cavilers in the Museummight take example from him. Serapion performed an action and adifficult one. They waste their time over words, miserable words! Theywill prove to you by convincing argument that yonder lion is a rabbit.The Magian waved his hands and the king of beasts cringed before him.Like the worthies of the Museum, every one in this city is merely amouth on two legs. Where but here would the Christians--I know theirdoctrines--have invented that term for their sublime teacher--The Wordbecome flesh? I have heard nothing here," he turned to the deputation,"but words and again words--from you, who humbly assure me of your loveand reverence; from those who think that their insignificant personsmay slip through my fingers and escape me, paltry, would-be witty words,dipped in poison and gall. In the Circus, even, they aimed words at me.The Magian alone dared to offer me deeds, and he succeeded wonderfully;he is a marvelous man!"

  "What he showed you," said the high-priest, "was no more than what thesorcerers achieved, as the old writings tell us, under the builders ofthe Pyramids. Our astrologers, who traced out for you the path of thestars--"

  "They, too," interrupted Caesar, bowing slightly to the astrologers,"have something better to show than words. As I owe to the Magian anagreeable hour, so I thank you, my friends, for a happy one."

  This remark had reference to the information which had been brought toCaesar, during a pause in the incantations, that the stars predictedgreat happiness for him in his union with Melissa, and that thisprediction was well-founded, was proved by the constellations which thechief astrologer showed and explained to him.

  While Caracalla was receiving the thanks of the astrologers, he caughtsight of Alexander, and at once
graciously inquired how Melissa had gotback to her fathers house. He then asked, laughingly, if the wits ofAlexandria were going to treat him to another offering like the one onhis arrival. The youth, who had determined in the Circus to risk hislife, if need be, in order to clear himself of the taint of suspicion,judged that the moment had come to make good the mistake which hadrobbed him of his fellow-citizens' esteem.

  The presence of so many witnesses strengthened his courage; and fullyexpecting that, like the consul Vindex, his speech would cost himhis head, he drew himself up and answered gravely, "It is true, greatCaesar, that in a weak moment and without considering the results, Irepeated some of those witticisms to you--"

  "I commanded, and you had to obey," retorted Caesar, and added, coldly,"But what does this mean?"

  "It means," began Alexander--who already saw the sword of execution leapfrom its scabbard--with pathetic dignity, which astonished the emperoras coming from him, "it means that I herewith declare before you, andmy Alexandrian fellow-citizens here present, that I bitterly repentmy indiscretion; nay, I curse it, since I heard from your own lips howtheir ready wit has set you against the sons of my beloved native city."

  "Ah, indeed! Hence these tears?" interposed Caesar, adopting awell-known Latin phrase. He nodded to the painter, and continued, in atone of amused superiority: "Go on performing as an orator, if you like;only moderate the tragic tone, which does not become you, and makeit short, for before the sun rises we all--these worthy citizens andmyself--desire to be in bed."

  Blushes and pallor alternated on the young man's face. Sentence of deathwould have been more welcome to him than this supercilious check to ahazardous attempt, which he had looked upon as daring and heroic. Amongthe Romans he caught sight of some laughing faces, and hurt, humiliated,confused, scarcely capable of speaking a word, and yet moved by thedesire to justify himself, he stammered out: "I have--I meant toassure--No, I am no spy! May my tongue wither before I--You can, ofcourse--It is in your power to take my life!"

  "Most certainly it is," interposed Caracalla, and his tone was morecontemptuous than angry. He could see how deeply excited the artistwas, and to save him--Melissa's brother-from committing a folly which hewould be obliged to punish, he went on with gracious consideration: "ButI much prefer to see you live and wield the brush for a long time tocome. You are dismissed."

  The young man bent his head, and then turned his back upon the emperor,for he felt that he was threatened now with what, to an Alexandrian, wasthe most unbearable fate-to appear ridiculous before so many.

  Caracalla allowed him to go, but, as he stepped across the threshold,he called after him: "Tomorrow, then, with your sister, after the bath!Tell her the stars and the spirits are propitious to our union."

  Caesar then beckoned to the chief of the nightwatch, and, havinglaid the blame of the unpleasant occurrences in the Circus on hiscarelessness, cut the frightened officer short when he proposed to takeevery one prisoner whom the lictors had marked among the noisy.

  "Not yet! On no account to-morrow," Caracalla ordered. "Mark each onecarefully. Keep your eyes open at the next performance. Put down thenames of the disaffected. Take care that the rope hangs about the neckof the guilty. The time to draw it tight will come presently. When theythink themselves safe, the cowardly show their true faces. Wait tillI give the signal--certainly not in the next few days; then seize uponthem, and let none escape!"

  Caesar had given these orders with smiling lips. He wanted first to makeMelissa his, and, like a shepherd, to revel with her in the sweetnessof their love. No moment of this time should be darkened for him by thetears and prayers of his bride. When she should hear, later on, of herhusband's bloody vengeance upon his enemies, she would have to accept itas an accomplished fact; and means, no doubt, would be found to sootheher indignation.

  Those who after the insulting occurrences in the Circus had expectedto see Caesar raging and storming, were hurried from one surprise toanother; for even after his conversation with the night-watch he lookedcheerful and contented, and exclaimed: "It is long since you have seenme thus! My own mirror will ask itself if it has not changed owners. Itis to be hoped it may have cause to accustom itself to reflect me asa happy man as often as I look in it. The two highest joys of life arebefore me, and I know not what would be left for me to desire if onlyPhilostratus were here to share the coming days with me."

  The grave senator Cassius Dio here stepped forward and observed thatthere were advantages in their amiable friend's withdrawal from theturmoil of court life. His Life of Apollonius, to which all the worldwas looking forward, would come all the sooner to a close.

  "If only that I might talk to him of the man of Tyana," cried theemperor, "I wish his biographer were here to-day. To possess littleand require nothing is the wish of the sage; and I can well imaginecircumstances in which one who has enjoyed power and riches to satietyshould consider himself blessed as a simple countryman following out theprecept of Horace, 'procul negotiis,' plowing his fields and gatheringthe fruit of his own trees. According to Apollonius, the wise man mustalso be poor, and, though the citizens of his state are permitted toacquire treasures, the wealthy are looked upon as dishonorable. There issome sense in this paradox, for the possessions that are to be obtainedwith money are but vulgar joys. I know by experience what it is thatpurifies the soul, that lifts it up and makes it truly blessed. It doesnot come of power or riches. Whoso has known it, he to whom it has beenrevealed--"

  He stopped short, surprised at himself; then laughed as he shook hishead and exclaimed, "Behold, the tragedy hero in the purple with onefoot in an idyl!" and wished the assembled company pleasant slumbers forthe short remains of the night.

  He gave his hand to a few favored ones; but, as he clasped that of theproconsul Julius Paulinus, who, with unheard-of audacity, had put onmourning garments for his brother-in-law Vindex, beheaded that day,Caesar's countenance grew dark, and, turning his back upon them all,he walked rapidly away. Scarcely had he disappeared when the mourningproconsul exclaimed in his dry manner, as if speaking to himself:

  "The idyl is to begin. Would it might be the satyr-play that closes thebloodiest of tragedies!"

  "Caesar has not been himself to-day," said the favorite Theocritus; andthe senator Cassius Dio whispered to Paulinus, "And therefore he wasmore bearable to look at."

  Old Adventus gazed in astonishment as Arjuna, the emperor's Indianbody-slave, disrobed him; for, though Caracalla had entered theapartment with a dark and threatening brow, while his sandals were beingunfastened, he laughed to himself, and cried to his old servant withbeaming eyes, "To-morrow!" and the chamberlain called down a blessingon the morrow, and on her who was destined to fill the coming years withsunshine for mighty Caesar.

  ........................

  Caracalla, generally an early riser, slept this time longer than onother days. He had retired very late to rest, and the chamberlaintherefore put off waking him, especially as he had been troubled by evildreams, in spite of his happy frame of mind when he sought his couch.When at last he rose he first inquired about the weather, and expressedhis satisfaction when he heard that the sun had risen with burning rays,but was now veiled in threatening clouds.

  His first visit led him to the court of sacrifice. The offerings hadfallen out most favorably, and he rejoiced at the fresh and healthyappearance of the bullocks' hearts and livers which the augursshowed him. In the stomach of one of the oxen they had found a flintarrow-head, and, on showing it to Caracalla, he laughed, and observed tothe high-priest Timotheus: "A shaft from Eros's quiver! A hint from thegod to offer him a sacrifice on this happy day."

  After his bath he caused himself to be arrayed with peculiar care,and then gave orders for the admittance, first, of the prefect of thepraetorians, and then of Melissa, for whom a mass of gorgeous flowersstood ready.

  But Macrinus was not to be found, although Caesar had commanded himyesterday to give in his report before doing anything else. He had twicecome to the antech
amber, but had gone away again shortly before, and hadnot yet returned.

  Determined to let nothing damp his spirits, Caesar merely shrugged hisshoulders, and gave orders to admit the maiden, and--should they haveaccompanied her--her father and brother. But neither Melissa nor themen had appeared as yet, though Caracalla distinctly remembered havingcommanded all three to visit him after the bath, which he had takenseveral hours later than usual.

  Vexed, and yet endeavoring to keep his temper, he went to the window.The sky was overcast, and a sharp wind from the sea drove the firstrain-drops in his face.

  In the wide square at his feet a spectacle presented itself which wouldhave delighted him at another time, when in better spirits.

  The younger men of the city--as many as were of Greek extraction--weretrooping in. They were divided into companies, according to thewrestling-schools or the Circus and other societies to which theybelonged. The youths marched apart from the married men, and one couldsee that they came gladly, and hoped for much enjoyment from theevents of the day. Some of the others looked less delighted. They wereunaccustomed to obey the orders of a despot, and many were ill-pleasedto lose a whole day from their work or business. But no one waspermitted to absent himself; for, when the chief citizens had invitedthe emperor to visit their wrestling-schools, he replied that hepreferred to inspect the entire male youths of Alexandria in theStadium. This was situated close by his residence in the Serapeum, andin this great space a spectacle would be afforded to him at one glance,which he could otherwise only enjoy by journeying laboriously from onegymnasium to another. He loved the strong effects produced by greatmasses; and being on the race-course, the wrestlers and boxers, therunners and discus-throwers, could give proof of their strength,dexterity, and endurance.

  It occurred to him at the moment that among these youths and men theremight be some of the descendants of the warriors who, under the commandof the great Alexander, had conquered the world. Here, then, was anopportunity of gathering round him--rejuvenated and, so to speak, bornanew--those troops who, under the guidance of the man whose mission onearth he was destined to accomplish, had won such deathless victories.That was a pleasure he had every right to permit himself, and he wishedto show to Melissa the re-created military forces of him to whom, in aformer existence, as Roxana, she had been so dear.

  Quick as ever to suit the deed to the word, he at once ordered the headcitizens to assemble the youth of Alexandria on the morning of the dayin question, and to form them into a Macedonian phalanx. He wished toinspect them in the stadium, and they were now marching thither.

  He had ordered helmets, shields, and lances to be made after well-knownMacedonian patterns and to be distributed to the new Hellenic legion.Later on they might be intrusted with the guarding of the city,should there be a Parthian war; and he required the attendance of theAlexandrian garrison.

  The inspection of this Greek regiment would be certain to give pleasureto Melissa. He expected, too, to see Alexander among them. When once hisbeloved shared the purple with him, he could raise her brother to thecommand of this chosen phalanx.

  Troop after troop streamed on to the course, and he thought he hadseldom seen anything finer than these slender youths, marching alongwith elastic step, and garlands in their black, brown, or golden locks.

  When the young noblemen who belonged to the school of Timagetes filedpast him, he took such delight in the beauty of their heads, thewonderful symmetry of their limbs strengthened by athletic games, andthe supple grace of most of them, that he felt as if some magic spellhad carried him back to the golden age of Greece and the days of theOlympian games in the Altis.

  What could be keeping Melissa? This sight would assuredly please her,and for once he would be able to say something flattering about herpeople. One might easily overlook a good deal from such splendid youths.

  Carried away by his admiration he waved his scarf to them, which beingremarked by the gymnasiarch, who with his two assistants-herculeanathletes--walked in front, was answered by him with a loud "Hail,Caesar!"

  The youths who followed him imitated his example, and the troop thatcame after them returned his greeting loud and heartily. The youngvoices could be heard from afar, and the news soon spread to the lastranks of the first division to whom these greetings were addressed. But,among the men who already were masters of households of their own, therewere many who deemed it shameful and unworthy to raise their voices ingreeting to the tyrant whose heavy hand had oppressed them more thanonce; and a group of young men belonging to the party of the "Greens,"who ran their own horses, had the fatal audacity to agree amongthemselves that they would leave Caesar's greeting unanswered. Amany-headed crowd is like a row of strings which sound together as soonas the note is struck to which they are all attuned; and so each one nowfelt sure that his acclamation would only increase the insolence of thisfratricide, this bloodstained monster, this oppressor and enemy of thecitizens. The succeeding ranks of "Greens" followed the example, andfrom the midst of a troop of young married men, members in the gymnasiumof the society of the Dioscuri, one foolhardy spirit had the recklesstemerity to blow a shrill, far-sounding whistle between his fingers.

  He found no imitators, but the insulting sound reached the emperor'sear, and seemed to him like the signal-call of Fate; for, before it haddied away, the clouds broke, and a stream of brilliant sunshine spreadover the race-course and the assembled multitude. The cloudy day thatwas to have brought happiness to Caesar had been suddenly transformed bythe sun of Africa into a bright one; and the radiant light which cheeredthe hearts of others seemed to him to be a message from above towarn him that, instead of the highest bliss, this day would bring himdisappointment and misfortune. He said nothing of this, for there wasno one there in whom it would be any relief to confide, or of whosesympathy he could be sure. But those who watched him as he retired fromthe window saw plainly that the idyl, which he had promised them shouldbegin to-day, would assuredly not do so for the next few hours at least,unless some miracle should occur. No, he would have to wait awhile forthe pastoral joys he had promised himself. And it seemed as if, insteadof the satyr-play of which old Julius Paulinus had spoken, that fatalwhistle had given the signal for another act in Caracalla's terriblelife-tragedy.

  The "friends" of the emperor looked at him anxiously as, with furrowedbrow, he asked, impatiently: "Macrinus not here yet?"

  Theocritus and others who had looked with envy upon Melissa and herrelatives, and with distrust upon her union with the emperor, nowheartily wished the girl back again.

  But the prefect Macrinus came not; and while the emperor, having sentmessengers to fetch Melissa, turned with darkly boding brow to hisstation overlooking the brightly lighted race-course, still hopingthe augury would prove false, and the sunny day turn yet in his favor,Macrinus was in the full belief that the gate of greatness and power wasopening to him. Superstitious as the emperor himself and every oneelse of his time, he was to-day more firmly persuaded than ever of theexistence of men whose mysterious wisdom gave them powers to which evenhe must bend--the hard-headed man who had raised himself from the lowestto the highest station, next to the Caesar himself.

  In past nights the Magian Serapion had caused him to see and hear muchthat was incomprehensible. He believed in the powers exerted by thatremarkable man over spirits, and his ability to work miracles, for hehad proved in the most startling manner that he had perfect control evenover such a determined mind as that of the prefect. The evening before,the magician had bidden Macrinus come to him at the third hour aftersunrise of the next day, which he had unhesitatingly promised to do.But the emperor had risen later than usual this morning, and the prefectmight expect to be called to his master at any moment. In spite ofthis, and although his absence threatened to rouse Caesar to fury,and everything pointed to the necessity of his remaining within call,Macrinus, drawn by an irresistible craving, had followed the invitation,which sounded more like a command. This, indeed, had seemed to himdecisive; for, as the seer rul
ed over his stern spirit, albeit he wasalive, even so must the spirits of the departed do his bidding. Hisevery interest urged him now to believe in the prophecy made to himby Serapion, to-day for the third time, which foretold that he, theprefect, should mount the throne of the Caesars, clad in the purple ofCaracalla. But it was not alone to repeat this prophecy that the seerhad called Macrinus to him, but to inform him that the future empresswas betrothed to a young Alexandrian, and that the tender intercoursebetween the lovers had not been interrupted during Caracalla'scourtship. This had come to Serapion's ears yesterday afternoon,through his adroit assistant Kastor, and he had taken advantage of theinformation to prepare Caesar during the night for the faithlessness ofhis chosen bride.

  The Magian assured the prefect that what the spirit of the greatMacedonian had hinted at yesterday had since been confirmed by thedemons in his service. It would now be easy for Macrinus to possiblyhinder Melissa, who might have been all-powerful, from coming betweenhim and the great goal which the spirits had set before him.

  Serapion then repeated the prophecy, which came with such convincingpower from the bearded lips of the sage that the prudent statesman casthis last doubts from him, and, exclaiming, "I believe your words,and shall press forward now in spite of every danger!" he grasped theprophet's hand in farewell.

  Up to this point Macrinus, the son of a poor cobbler, who had haddifficulty in rearing his children at all, had received these propheticutterances with cool deliberation, and had ventured no step nearer tothe exalted aim which had been offered to his ambition. In all goodfaith he had done his best to perform the duties of his office as anobedient servant to his master and the state. This had all changed now,and, firmly resolved to risk the struggle for the purple, he returned tothe emperor's apartments.

  Macrinus had no reason to expect a favorable reception when he enteredthe tablinum, but his great purpose upheld his courage. He, the upstart,was well aware that Fortune requires her favorites to keep their eyesopen and their hands active. He therefore took care to obtain a fullaccount of what had happened from his confidential friend the senatorAntigonus, a soldier of mean birth, who had gained favor with Caesarby a daring piece of horsemanship. Antigonus closed his report withthe impudent whistle of the Greek athlete; he dwelt chiefly on hisastonishment at Melissa's absence. This gave food for thought to theprefect, too; but before entering the tablinum he was stopped by thefreedman Epagathos, who handed over to him a scroll which had beengiven to him for the emperor. The messenger had disappeared directlyafterward, and could not be overtaken. Might it not endanger the life ofthe reader by exhaling a poisonous perfume?

  "Nothing is impossible here," answered the prefect. "Ours it is to watchover the safety of our godlike master."

  This letter was that which Melissa had intrusted to the slave Argutisfor Caesar, and with unwarrantable boldness the prefect and Epagathosnow opened it and ran rapidly over its contents. They then agreed tokeep this strange missive from the emperor till Macrinus should sendto ask whether the youths were assembled in their full number on therace-course. They judged it necessary to prepare Caesar in some sort, toprevent a fresh attack of illness.

  Caracalla was standing near a pillar at the window whence he might seewithout being seen. That whistle still shrilled in his ears. But anotheridea occupied him so intensely that he had not yet thought of wiping outthe insult with blood.

  What could be delaying Melissa and her father and brother?

  The painter ought to have joined the other Macedonian youths onthe race-course, and Caracalla was engaged in looking out for him,stretching forward every time he caught sight of some curly head thatrose above the others.

  There was a bitter taste in his mouth, and at every fresh disappointmenthis rebellious, tortured heart beat faster; and yet the idea thatMelissa might have dared to flee from him never entered his mind.

  The high-priest of Serapis had informed him that his wife had seennothing of her as yet. Then it suddenly occurred to him that she mighthave been wet through by the rain yesterday and now lay shaken byfever, and that this must keep her father away, too; a supposition whichcheered the egoist more than it pained him, and with a sigh of relief heturned once more to the window.

  How haughtily these boys carried their heads; their fleet, elastic feetskimmed over the ground; how daringly they showed off the strength anddexterity that almost seemed their birthright! This reminded him that,prematurely aged as he was by the wild excesses of his youngeryears, with his ill-set broken leg and his thin locks, he must makea lamentable contrast to these others of his own age; and he said tohimself that perhaps the whistle had come from the lips of one of thestrongest and handsomest, who had not considered him worth greeting.

  And yet he was not weaker than any single individual down there; aye,and if he chose he could crush them all together, as he would theglow-worm creeping on that window-sill. With one quick squeeze of hisfingers he put an end to the pretty little insect, and at that moment heheard voices behind him.

  Had his beloved come at last?

  No, it was only the prefect. He should have been there long ago, ifhe were obedient to his sovereign's commands. Macrinus was therefore aconvenient object on which to vent his anger. How mean was the face ofthis long-legged upstart, with its small eyes, sharp nose, and furrowedbrow! Could the beautiful Diadumenianus really be his son? No matter!The boy, the apple of his father's eye, was in his power, and was asurety for the old man's loyalty. After all, Macrinus was a capable,serviceable officer, and easier to deal with than the Romans of the oldnoble families.

  Notwithstanding these considerations, Caracalla addressed the prefect asharshly as if he had been a disobedient slave, but Macrinus received theflood of abuse with patience and humility. When the emperor reproachedhim with never being at hand when he was wanted, he replied submissivelythat it was just because he found he could be of service to Caesar thathe had dared to absent himself. The refractory young brood down therewere being kept well in hand, and it was entirely owing to his effectualmeasures that they had contented themselves with that one whistle. Lateron it would be their duty to punish such audacity and high-treason withthe utmost rigor.

  The emperor gazed in astonishment at the counselor, who till now hadever advised him to use moderation, and only yesterday had begged him toascribe much to Alexandrian manners, which in Rome would have had tobe treated with severity. Had the insolence of these unruly citizens become unbearable even to this prudent, merciful man?

  Yes, that must be it; and the grudge that Macrinus now showed againstthe Alexandrians hastened the pardon which Caesar silently accorded him.

  Caracalla even said to himself that he had underrated the prefect'sintellect, for his eyes flashed and glowed like fire, notwithstandingtheir smallness, and lending a force to his ignoble face which Caracallahad never noticed before. Had Caesar no premonition that in the lastfew hours this man had grown to be such another as himself?--for in hisunyielding mind the firm resolve had been strengthened to hesitate atnothing--not even at the death of as many as might come between him andhis high aim, the throne.

  Macrinus knew enough of human nature to observe the miserabledisquietude that had seized upon the emperor at his bride's continuedabsence, but he took good care not to refer to the subject. WhenCaracalla, however, could no longer conceal his anxiety, and asked afterher himself, the prefect gave the appointed sign to Epagathos, who thenhanded Melissa's freshly re-sealed letter to his master.

  "Let me open it, great Caesar," entreated Macrinus. "Even Homer calledEgypt the land of poison."

  But the emperor did not heed him. No one had told him, and he had neverin his life received a letter in a woman's hand, except from hismother; and yet he knew that this delicate little roll had come from awoman--from Melissa.

  It was closed with a silken thread, and the seal with which Epagathoshad replaced the one they had broken. If Caracalla tore it open, thepapyrus and the writing might be damaged. He called impatiently fora knife, and the bo
dy physician, who had just entered with othercourtiers, handed him his.

  "Back again?" asked Caracalla as the physician drew the blade from itssheath.

  "At break of day, on somewhat unsteady legs," was the jovial answer.Caracalla took the knife from him, cut the silk, hastily broke the seal,and began to read.

  Till now his hands had performed their office steadily, but suddenlythey began to tremble, and while he ran his eye over Melissa'srefusal--there were but a few lines-his knees shook, and a sharp, lowcry burst from him, like no sound that lies by nature in the throat ofman. Rent in two pieces, the strip of papyrus fluttered to the ground.

  The prefect caught the despot, who, seized with giddiness, stretched outhis hands as if seeking a support. The physician hurriedly brought outthe drug which Galenus had advised him to use in such cases, and whichhe always carried with him, and then, pointing to the letter, asked theprefect:

  "In the name of all the gods, from whom?"

  "From the gem-cutter's fair daughter," replied Macrinus, with acontemptuous shrug.

  "From her?" cried the physician, indignantly. From that light Phryne,who kissed and embraced my rich host's son down there in his sick-room?

  "At this the emperor, who had not lost consciousness for one moment,started as if stung by a serpent, and sprang at the physician's throatscreaming while he threatened to strangle him:

  "What was that? What did you say? Cursed babbler! The truth, villain,and the whole truth, if you love your life!"

  The half-choked man, ever prone to talking, had no reason for concealingfrom Caesar what he had seen with his own eyes, and had subsequentlyheard in the Serapeum and at the table of Polybius.

  When life was at stake a promise to a freedman could be of no account,so he gave free rein to his tongue, and answered the questions Caracallahoarsely put to him without reserve, and--being a man used to the waysof a court--with insinuations that were doubly welcome to a judge soeager for damning evidence.

  Yesterday, the day before, and the day before that--every day on whichMelissa had pretended to feel the mysterious ties that bound her heartto his, every day that she had feigned love and led him on to woo her,she had--as he now learned--granted to another what she had refused tohim with such stern discretion. Her prayer for him, the sympathyshe said she felt, the maidenly sensibility which had charmed him inher--all, all had been lies, deceit, sham, in order to attain anobject. And that old man and the brothers to serve whom she had dared toapproach him--they all knew the cruel game she was playing with him andhis heart's love. The lips that had lured him into the vilest trapwith lying words had kissed another. He seemed to hear the Alexandrianslaughing at the forsaken bridegroom, to see them pointing the fingerof derision at the man whom cunning woman had deceived even beforemarriage. What a feast for their ribald wit!

  And yet--he would have willingly borne it all, and more, for thecertainty that she had really loved him once; that her heart had beenhis, if only for one short hour.

  On those shreds of papyrus scattered over the floor she confessed shewas not able to accede to his wishes, because she had already given herfaith to another before she ever saw Caracalla. It was true she had feltherself drawn to him as to no other but her betrothed; and had he beencontent to let her be near him as a faithful servant and sicknurse, thenindeed... In short, he was informed in so many words that every tiethat bound her to him must be broken in favor of another, and thehypocritical regret with which she sought to cover up the hard factsonly made him doubly indignant.

  Lies, lies--even in this letter nothing but lies and heartlessdissimulation!

  How it stabbed his heart! But he possessed the power to wound her inreturn. Wild beasts should tear her fair body limb from limb, as she hadtorn his soul in this hour.

  One wish alone filled his heart--to see her whom he had loved above allothers, to whom he had revealed his inmost soul, for whose sake he hadamended his actions as he had never done for his own mother--to see herlying in the dust before him, and to inflict upon her such tortures asno mortal had ever endured before. And not only she, but all whom sheloved and who were her accomplices, should atone for the torment of thishour. The time of reckoning had come, and every evil instinct of hisnature mingled its exulting voice with the anguished cries of hisbleeding heart.

  The prefect knew his master well, and watched his every expression whileapparently listening to the voluble physician, but in reality absorbedin a train of thought. By the twitching of his eyelids, the sharplyoutlined red patches on his cheeks, the quivering nostrils, and the deepfurrows between his eyes, he must be revolving some frightful plan inhis mind.

  Yesterday, had he found him in this condition, Macrinus would haveendeavored by every means in his power to calm his wrath; but to-day, ifCaesar had set the world in flames, he would only have added fuel to thefire, for who could more surely upset the firmly established power ofthis emperor and son of emperors as Caracalla himself? The people ofRome had endured unimaginable sufferings at his hands; but the cup wasfull, and, judging from Caesar's looks, he would cause it to overflowthis day. Then the rising flood which tore the son of an idolized fatherfrom the throne, might possibly bear him, the child of lowliness andpoverty, into the palace.

  But Macrinus remained silent. No word from him should change the tenorof the emperor's thoughts. The plan he was thinking out must be allowedto ripen to its full horror. The lowering, uncertain glance thatCaracalla cast round the tablinum at the close of the physician'snarrative showed that the prefect's reticence was an unnecessaryprecaution.

  Caesar's mind and tongue still seemed paralyzed; but at that momentsomething occurred which recalled him to himself and brought firmness tohis wandering gaze.

  There was a sudden disturbance in the antechamber, with a confused soundof cries and shouting. Those friends of Caesar who wore swords drewthem, and Caracalla, who was unarmed, called to Antigonus to give himhis.

  "A revolt?" he asked Macrinus with flashing eyes, and as if he wishedthe answer to be in the affirmative; but the prefect had hastened tothe door with drawn sword. Before he reached it, it was thrown open, andJulius Asper, the legate, burst into the tablinum as if beside himself,crying: "Cursed den of murderers! An attempt on your life, great Caesar;but we have him fast!"

  "Assassination!" interrupted Caracalla with furious joy. "That was theonly thing left undone! Bring the murderer! But first"--and he addressedhimself to Aristides--"close the city gates and the harbor. Not a man,not a ship must be let through without being searched. The vessels thathave weighed anchor since daybreak must be followed and brought back.Mounted Numidians under efficient officers must scour the high-roads assoon as the gate-keepers have been examined. Every house must be open toyour men, every temple, every refuge. Seize Heron, the gem-cutter,his daughter, and his two sons. Also--Diodoros is the young villain'sname?--him, his parents, and everybody connected with them! Thephysician knows where they are to be found. Alive, do you hear?--notdead! I will have them alive! I give you till midnight! Your head, ifyou let the jade and her brothers escape!"

  With drooping head the unhappy officer departed. On the threshold he wasmet by Martialis, the praetorian centurion. After him, his hands boundbehind his back, walked the criminal. A deep flush overspread hishandsome face, his eyes glowed under the too lofty brow with the fiercelight of fever, his waving locks stood out in wild confusion round hishead, while the finely cut upper lip with its disdainful curl seemed thevery seat of scorn and bitterest contempt. Every feature wore that sameexpression, and not a trace of fear or regret. But his panting breastbetrayed to the physician's first glance that they had here to deal witha sick man in raging fever.

  They had already torn off his mantle and discovered beneath its foldsthe sharp-edged butcher's knife which plainly betrayed his intentions.He had penetrated to the first antechamber when a soldier of theGermanic body-guard laid hold on him. Martialis had him by the girdlenow, and the emperor looked sharply and mistrustfully at the praetorian,as he asked if
it were he who had captured the assassin.

  The centurion replied that he had not. Ingiomarus, the German, hadnoticed the knife; he, Martialis, was here only in right of hisprivilege as a praetorian to bring such prisoners before great Caesar.

  Caracalla bent a searching gaze upon the soldier; for he thought herecognized in him the man who had aroused his envy and whose happinesshe had once greatly desired to damp, when against orders he had receivedhis wife and child in the camp. Recollections rose in his mind thatdrove the hot blood to his cheek, and he cried, disdainfully:

  "I might have guessed it! What can be expected beyond the letter oftheir service from one who so neglects his duties? Did you not disportyourself with lewd women in the camp before my very eyes, setting atnaught the well-known rules? Hands off the prisoner! This is yourlast day as praetorian and in Alexandria. As soon as the harbor isopened--to-morrow, I expect--you go on board the ship that carriesreinforcements to Edessa. A winter on the Pontus will cool yourlascivious blood."

  This attack was so rapid and so unexpected to the somewhat dull-wittedcenturion, that he failed at first to grasp its full significance. Heonly understood that he was to be banished again from the loved oneshe had so long been deprived of. But when he recovered sufficiently toexcuse himself by declaring that it was his own wife and children whohad visited him, Caesar cut him short by commanding him to report hischange of service at once to the tribune of the legion.

  The centurion bowed in silence and obeyed. Caracalla then went up to theprisoner, and dragging him, weakly resisting, from the dark back groundof the room to the window, he asked with a sneer:

  "And what are assassins like in Alexandria? Ah, ha! this is not the faceof a hired cut-throat! Only thus do they look whose sharp wit I willanswer with still sharper steel."

  "For that answer at least you are not wont to be at a loss," camecontemptuously from the lips of the prisoner.

  The emperor winced as if he had been struck, and then exclaimed

  "You may thank your bound hands that I do not instantly return you theanswer you seem to expect of me."

  Then turning to his courtiers, he asked if any of them could give himinformation as to the name and history of the assassin; but no oneappeared to know him. Even Timotheus, the priest of Serapis, who as headof the Museum had so often delighted in the piercing intellect of thisyouth, and had prophesied a great future for him, was silent, and lookedat him with troubled gaze.

  It was the prisoner himself who satisfied Caesar's curiosity. Glancinground the circle of courtiers, and casting a grateful look at hispriestly patron, he said:

  "It would be asking too much of your Roman table-companions that theyshould know a philosopher. You may spare yourself the question, Caesar.I came here that you might make my acquaintance. My name is Philippus,and I am son to Heron, the gem-cutter."

  "Her brother!" screamed Caracalla, as he rushed at him, and thrustinghis hand into the neck of the sick youth's chiton--who already couldscarcely stand upon his feet--he shook him violently, crying, with ascoffing look at the high-priest:

  "And is this the ornament of the Museum, the free-thinker, the profoundskeptic Philippus?"

  He stopped suddenly, and his eyes flashed as if a new light had burstupon him; he dropped his hand from the prisoner's robe, and bending hishead close to the other, he whispered in his ear, "You have come fromMelissa?"

  "Not from her," the other answered quickly, the flush deepening on hisface, "but in the name of that most unhappy, most pitiable maiden, andas the representative of her noble Macedonian house, which you woulddefile with shame and infamy; in the name of the inhabitants of thiscity, whom you despoil and tread under foot; in the interests of thewhole world, which you disgrace!"

  Trembling with fury Caracalla broke in:

  "Who would choose you for their ambassador, miserable wretch?"

  To which the philosopher replied with haughty calm:

  "Think not so lightly of one who looks forward with longing to that ofwhich you have an abject fear."

  "Of death, do you mean?" asked Caracalla, sneering, for his wrath hadgiven place to astonishment.

  And Philip answered: "Yes, Death--with whom I have sworn friendship,and who should be ten times blessed to me if he would but atone for myclumsiness and rid the world of such a monster!"

  The emperor, still spell-bound by the unheard-of audacity of the youthbefore him, now felt moved to keep step with the philosopher, whom fewcould equal in sharpness of wit; and, controlling the raging fury of hisblood, he cried, in a tone of superiority:

  "So that is the boasted logic of the Museum? Death is your dearestdesire, and yet you would give it to your enemy?"

  "Quite right," replied Philip, his lip curling with scorn. "For thereis something which to the philosopher stands higher than logic. It is astranger to you, but you know it perhaps by name--it is called justice."

  These words, and the contemptuous tone in which they were spoken, burstthe flood-gates of Caracalla's painfully restrained passion; his voicerose harsh and loud, till the lion growled angrily and dragged at hischain, while his master flung hasty words of fury in the face of hisenemy:

  "We shall soon see, my cunning fencer with words, whether I know how tofollow your advice, and how sternly I can exercise that virtue denied tome by an assassin. Will any one accuse me now of injustice if I punishthe accursed brood that has grown up in this den of iniquity with allthe rigor that it deserves? Yes, glare at me with those great, burningeyes! Alexandrian eyes, promising all and granting nothing--persuadinghim who trusts in them to believe in innocence and chastity, truthand affection. But let him look closer, and he finds nothing butdeep corruption, foul cunning, despicable self-seeking, and atrociousfaithlessness!

  "And everything else in this city is like those eyes! Where are there somany gods and priests, where do they sacrifice so often, where do theyfast and apply themselves so assiduously to repentance and the cleansingof the soul? And yet, where does vice display itself so freely andso unchecked? This Alexandria--in her youth as dissolute as she wasfair--what is she now but an old hag? Now that she is toothless, nowthat wrinkles disfigure her face, she has turned pious, that, like thewolf in sheep's clothing, she may revenge herself by malice for the lossof joy and of the admiration of her lovers! I can find no more strikingcomparison than this; for, even as hags find a hideous pleasure inempty chatter and spiteful slanderings, so she, once so beautiful andrenowned, has sunk deeper and deeper in the mire, and can not endure tosee anything that has achieved greatness or glory without maliciouslybespattering it with poison.

  "Justice!--yes, I will exercise justice, oh, sublime and virtuous hero,going forth to murder--a dagger hidden in your bosom! I thank you forthat lesson!

  "Pride of the Museum!--you lead me to the source whence all yourcorruption flows. It is that famous nursery of learning where you, too,were bred up. There, yes, there they cherish the heresy that makes thegods into puppets of straw, and the majesty of the throne into an owlfor pert and insignificant birds to peck at. Thence comes the doctrinethat teaches men and women to laugh at virtue and to break their word.There, where in other days noble minds, protected by the overshadowingfavor of princes, followed out great ideas, they now teach nothing butwords--empty, useless words. I saw and said that yesterday, and now Iknow it for certain--every poison shaft that your malice has aimed at mewas forged in the Museum."

  He paused for breath, and then continued, with a contemptuous laugh:

  "If the justice which you rate higher than logic were to take itscourse, nothing would be juster than to make an end this day of thishot-bed of corruption. But your unlearned fellow-citizens shall tasteof my justice, too. You yourself will be prevented by the beasts in theCircus from looking on at the effect your warning words have produced.But as yet you are alive, and you shall hear what the experiences arewhich make the severest measures the highest justice.

  "What did I hope to find, and what have I really found? I heard theAlexandrians praised
for their hospitality--for the ardor withwhich they pursue learning--for the great proficiency of theirastronomers--for the piety which has raised so many altars and inventedso many doctrines; and, lastly, for the beauty and fine wit of theirwomen.

  "And this hospitality! All that I have known of it is a flood ofmalicious abuse and knavish scoffing, which penetrated even to the gatesof this temple, my dwelling. I came here as emperor, and treason pursuedme wherever I went--even into my own apartments; for there you stand,whom a barbarian had to hinder from stabbing me with the knife of theassassin. And your learning? You have heard my opinion of the Museum.And the astrologers of this renowned observatory? The very opposite ofall they promised me has come to pass.

  "Religion? The people, of whom you know as little from the musty volumesof the Museum as of 'Ultima Thule'--the people indeed practice it. Theold gods are necessary to them. They are the bread of life to them.But instead of those you have offered them sour, unripe fruit, with aglittering rind-from your own garden, of your own growing. The fruit oftrees is a gift from Nature, and all that she brings forth has some goodin it; but what you offer to the world is hollow and poisonous. Yourrhetoric gives it an attractive exterior, and that, too, comes from theMuseum. There they are shrewd enough to create new gods, which start upout of the earth like mushrooms. If it should only occur to them, theywould raise murder to the dignity of god of gods, and you to be hishigh-priest."

  "That would be your office," interposed the philosopher.

  "You shall see," returned the emperor, laughing shrilly, "and thewitlings of the Museum with you! You use the knife; but hear the wordsof the master: The teeth of wild beasts and their claws are weapons notto be despised. Your father and brother, and she who taught me what tothink of the virtue and faith of Alexandrian women, shall tell you thisin Hades. Soon shall every one of those follow you thither who forgot,even by a glance of the eye, that I was Caesar and a guest of this city!After the next performance in the Circus the offenders shall tell youin the other world how I administer justice. No later than the day afterto-morrow, I imagine, you may meet there with several companions fromthe Museum. There will be enough to clap applause at the disputations!"Caracalla ended his vehement speech with a jeering laugh, and lookedround eagerly for applause from the "friends" for whose benefit his lastwords had been spoken; and it was offered so energetically as to drownthe philosopher's reply.

  But Caracalla heard it, and when the noise subsided he asked hiscondemned victim:

  "What did you mean by your exclamation, 'And yet I would that deathmight spare me'?"

  "In order, if that should come true," returned the philosopher quickly,his voice trembling with indignation, "that I might be a witness of thegrim mockery with which the all-requiting gods will destroy you, theirdefender."

  "The gods!" laughed the emperor. "My respect for your logic grows lessand less. You, the skeptic, expect the deeds of a mortal man from thegods whose existence you deny!"

  Then cried Philip, and his great eyes burning with hatred andindignation sought the emperor's: "Till this hour I was sure of nothing,and therefore uncertain of the existence of a god; but now I believefirmly that Nature, by whom everything is carried out according toeverlasting, immutable laws, and who casts out and destroys anythingthat threatens to bring discord into the harmonious workings of all herparts, would of her own accord bring forth a god, if there be not onealready, who should crush you, the destroyer of life and peace, in hisall-powerful hand!"

  Here his wild outburst of indignation was brought to an abrupt close,for a furious blow from Caracalla's fist sent his enfeebled enemystaggering back against the wall near the window.

  Mad with rage, Caracalla shrieked hoarsely

  "To the beasts with him! No, not to the beasts--to the torture! He andhis sister! The punishment I have bethought me of--scum of the earth--"

  But the wild despair of the other, in whose breast hatred and feverburned with equal strength, now reached the highest pitch. Like a hunteddeer which stays its flight for a moment to find an outlet or to turnupon his pursuers, he gazed wildly round him, and before the emperorcould finish his threat; leaning against the pillar of the window as ifprepared to receive his death-blow, he interrupted Caracalla:

  "If your dull wit can invent no death to satisfy your cruelty, theblood-hound Zminis can aid you. You are a worthy couple. Curses onyou!...

  "At him!" yelled the emperor to Macrinus and the legate, for nosubstitute had appeared for the centurion he had dismissed.

  But while the nobles advanced warily upon the madman, and Macrinuscalled to the Germanic body-guard in the anteroom, Philip had turnedlike lightning and disappeared through the window.

  The legates and Caesar came too late to hold him back, and from belowcame cries of: "Crushed!--dead!... What crime has he committed? Theycast him down!... He can not have done it himself... Impossible! ...His arms are bound.... A new manner of death invented specially for theAlexandrians!"

  Then another whistle sounded, and the shout, "Down with the tyrant!"

  But no second cry followed. The place was too full of soldiers andlictors.

  "Caracalla heard it all. He turned back into the room, wiped theperspiration from his brow, and said in a voice of studied unconcern,yet with horrible harshness:

  "He deserved his death-ten times over. However, I have to thank him fora good suggestion. I had forgotten the Egyptian Zminis. If he is stillalive, Macrinus, take him from his dungeon and bring him here. Butquickly--in a chariot! Let him come just as he is. I can make use of himnow."

  The prefect bowed assent, and by the rapidity with which he departed hebetrayed how willingly he carried out this order of his master's.