Part 29 (2/2)

Once again, and for the third time to-day, her eyes met those of Taurus Antinor, but this time it seemed to him that within their still mysterious depths he read something akin to an appeal.

As on that day in the Forum, intense pity--which had given birth to love--filled his heart for this beautiful young girl who seemed so lonely in the midst of all this pomp.

The purity of her soul appeared to him undimmed, even though he knew now that she had expected this awful thing all along, and that she was no stranger to this monstrous barter of her person for the attainment of a crazy Emperor's whim, or to make holiday for the rabble of Rome. In his sight her pride remained unshaken; only her loyalty and allegiance had been given to the Caesar in the same way as his own had been. She, in her simple, womanly way, was rendering unto Caesar that which was Caesar's, and Taurus Antinor, whilst tenderly pitying her, felt that he had never loved her as fondly as he did now.

The curse of the dying freedwoman was indeed bearing fruit. Dea's favours, her loyalty, were turning to bitter malediction for the recipients. More than one man to-day, mayhap, would die an horrible death in the hope of winning her grace. And Taurus Antinor, in the silent depths of his soul, prayed unto G.o.d that the woman he loved should never--as Menecreta had foretold--be driven to beg for mercy from a heart that knew it not and find a pitiless ear turned to her prayers.

Caligula had quickly shaken himself free from the arms that held him.

The fainting fit which had threatened him pa.s.sed away as swiftly as it had come. His l.u.s.t of hate and revenge was so keen at this moment that it conquered all his physical weakness. When he realised that it was Taurus Antinor who was supporting him, he contrived to smile benignly and placidly upon him.

”I am well! I am well!” he reiterated cheerfully. ”Did my voice carry all over the Amphitheatre? Did everyone hear what I said?”

”Everyone heard thy voice, O Caesar!” said Taurus Antinor slowly, ”and see the aspirant for the Augusta's hand has prepared to do battle for her sake!”

CHAPTER XXI

”But truly as the Lord liveth, and as thy soul liveth, there is but a step between me and death.”--I SAMUEL XX. 3.

When the Caesar had finished speaking, and he fell swooning back in the arms of the praefect of Rome, the conspirators remained quite still, staring at one another, dumbfounded.

Could any man at that moment have divined the secrets of the heart and looked into the thoughts of all these men, what a medley of terror and of l.u.s.t, of rage and of jealousy, would have been unfolded before his eyes.

The plotters were like men who, falling to with axe and pick to demolish a building, had seen that same building collapse beneath their feet.

They had sat quietly by all the day watching the events, content that these would shape themselves in accordance with their will. Young Escanes from time to time fingered the poniard which he had hidden under his tunic, Hortensius Martius gave free rein to his ardent admiration of Dea Flavia, Ancyrus, the elder, kept watch over every phase of the temper of the audience--its apathy, its excitement, its murmurs of dissatisfaction and cries of enthusiasm.

Only Caius Nepos, white to the lips, sat in terror lest the courage of the conspirators whom he had betrayed should fail them at the eleventh hour, and he--branded as a false informer--be left to encounter the fury of an almighty Caesar, who had never been known to relent.

The speech of Caligula had of a truth struck strangely upon his hearers. The men who had been willing to wait upon chance for the success of their plot, now found that Chance had waited upon them. The thought of treachery did not at first enter their minds. The freaks of the crazy Emperor were as numerous and as varied as the grains of sand in the arena. That he should offer the hand of his kinswoman as a prize to a victor in the arena, was not inconsistent with his perpetual desire for new sensations, his l.u.s.t of tyrannical power and his open contempt for all his fellow-men.

His allusions to his probable successor had seemed futile and of no account, and they all felt that they had wallowed so deeply in the mire of conspiracy together, that it could not have served the purpose of any one of them to betray the others.

The first moment of stupefaction had quickly pa.s.sed away, and even before the Caesar had recovered consciousness Hortensius Martius had risen to his feet. There had been no hesitation in him from the first.

Whilst the others pondered--vaguely frightened at this turn given by Chance to her wheel--he was ready to stake his life for the possession of Dea Flavia and of the imperium. His pa.s.sion for the beautiful woman would have led him into far wilder extravagances and into far graver dangers than an encounter in a public arena with a wild beast, and the momentary degradation of offering his patrician person as a spectacle for the plebs.

And because of this sudden decision, taken boldly whilst others wavered, he became tacitly the leader of the gang of plotters. When he jumped to his feet, ready to descend into the arena, he seemed to challenge them to keep their oath of allegiance to him, who would succeed in winning Dea Flavia for wife.

Hortensius Martius had proved himself to be a true opportunist, for he had seized his opportunity just at the right moment when the others hesitated. Thus are leaders made--one bold movement whilst others sit still, one step forward whilst the others wait.

”Thy chance, O Hortensius Martius,” whispered Marcus Ancyrus, the elder, close to the young man's ear. ”Escanes and the rest of us will be ready when the time comes, mayhap before thou dost return to us from below.”

Escanes' hand beneath his tunic closed upon the dagger. Stronger and taller than Hortensius, he had not the sudden initiative of the brain.

He was one of those men who would always be second to a bolder, a more resourceful leader.

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