Caesar Dies. Talbot Mundy

only to hate him," said Pertinax. "He would not follow me, nor I him. He is one of three men who would fight for the throne if somebody slew Commodus, although he would not run the risk of slaying him himself, and he would betray us if we should take him into confidence. I know him well. He is a lawyer and a Carthaginian. He would never ask for the nomination; he is too crafty. He would say his legions nominated him against his will and that to have disobeyed them would have laid him open to the punishment for treason. (This is what Severus actually did, later on, after Pertinax's death.) The other two are Pescennius Niger, who commands the legions in Syria, and Clodius Albinus who commands in Britain. We must find a man who can forestall all three of them by winning, first, the praetorian guard, and then the senate and the Romans by dint of sound reforms and justice."

      "You are he! Rome trusts you. So does the senate," said Cornificia.

       "Marcia trusts me. The praetorian guard trusts her. If I can persuade

       Marcia that her life is in danger from Commodus—"

      "But how?" Daedalus interrupted.

      "We can take the praetorian guard by surprise," Cornificia went on, ignoring him. "They can be tricked into declaring for the man whom Marcia's friends nominate. Having once declared for him they will be too proud of having made an emperor, and too unwilling to seem vacillating, to reverse themselves in any man's favor, even though he should command six legions. The senate will gladly accept one who has governed Rome as frugally as Pertinax has done. If the senate confirms the nominee of the praetorian guard, the Roman populace will do the rest by acclamation. Then, three months of upright government—deification by the senate—"

      Pertinax laughed explosively—an honest, chesty laugh, unqualified by any subtleties, suggesting a trace of the peasantry from which he sprang. It made Cornificia wince.

      "Can you imagine me a god?" he asked.

      "I can imagine you an emperor," said Sextus. "It is true; you have no following among the legions just at present. But I make one, and there are plenty of energetic men who think as I do. My friend Norbanus here will follow me. My father—"

      Noises near the open window interrupted him. An argument seemed to be going on between the slaves whom Pertinax had set to keep the roisterers away and some one who demanded admission. Near at hand was a woman's voice, shrilling and scolding. Then another voice—Scylax, the slave who had ridden the red mare. Pertinax strode to the window again and leaned out. Cornificia whispered to Galen:

      "If the truth were known, he is afraid of Flavia Titiana. As a wife she is bad enough, but as an empress—"

      Galen nodded.

      "If you love your Pertinax," he answered, "keep him off the throne! He has too many scruples."

      She frowned, having few, which were firm and entirely devoted to

       Pertinax' fortune.

      "Love him? I would give him up to see him deified!" she whispered; and again Galen nodded, deeply understanding.

      "That is because you have never had children," he assured her, smiling. "You mother Pertinax, who is more than twice your age—just as Marcia has mothered that monster Commodus until her heart is breaking."

      "But I thought you were Pertinax' friend?"

      "So I am."

      "And his urgent adviser to—"

      "Yes, so I was. I have changed my opinion; only the maniacs never do that. Pertinax would make a splendid minister for Lucius Severus; and the two of them could bring back the Augustan days. Persuade him to it. He must forget he hates him."

      "Let him come!" said the voice of Pertinax. He was still leaning out, with one hand on a marble pillar, much more interested in the moonlit view of revelry than in the altercation between slaves. He strolled back and stood smiling at Cornificia, his handsome face expressing satisfaction but a rather humorous amusement at his inability to understand her altogether.

      "Are you like all other women?" he asked. "I just saw a naked woman stab a man with her hairpin and kick his corpse into the shrubbery before the breath was out of it!"

      "Galen has deserted you," said Cornificia. The murder was uninteresting; nobody made any comment.

      "Not he!" Pertinax answered, and went and sat on Galen's couch. "You find me not man enough for the senate to make a god of me—is that it, Galen?"

      "Too much of a man to be an emperor," said Galen, smiling amid wrinkles. "By observing a man's virtues one may infer what his faults are. You would try to rule the empire honestly, which is impossible. A more dishonest man would let it rule itself and claim the credit, whereas you would give the praise to others, who would shoulder off the work and all the blame on to you. An empire is like a human body, which heals itself if the head will let it. Too many heads—a conference of doctors—and the patient dies! One doctor, doing nothing with an air of confidence, and the patient gets well! There, I have told you more than all the senate knows!"

      Came Scylax, out of breath, less menial than most men's slaves, his head and shoulders upright and the hand that held a letter thrust well forward as if what he had to do were more important than the way he did it.

      "This came," he said, standing beside Sextus' couch. "Cadmus brought it, running all the way from Antioch."

      His hand was trembling; evidently Cadmus had by some means learned the contents of the letter and had told.

      "I and Cadmus—" he said, and then hesitated.

      "What?"

      "—are faithful, no matter what happens."

      Scylax stood erect with closed lips. Sextus broke the seal, merely glancing at Pertinax, taking permission for granted. He frowned as he read, bit his lip, his face growing crimson and white alternately. When he had mastered himself he handed the letter to Pertinax.

      "I always supposed you protected my father," he said, struggling to appear calm. But his eyes gave the story away—grieved, mortified, indignant. Scylax offered him his arm to lean on. Norbanus, setting both hands on his shoulders from behind, obliged him to sit down.

      "Calm!" Norbanus whispered, "Calm! Your friends are your friends. What has happened?"

      Pertinax read the letter and passed it to Cornificia, then paced the floor with hands behind him.

      "Is that fellow to be trusted?" he asked with a jerk of his head toward

       Scylax. He seemed nearly as upset as Sextus was.

      Sextus nodded, not trusting himself to speak, knowing that if he did he would insult a man who might be guiltless in spite of appearances.

      "Commodus commanded me to visit Antioch, as he said, for a rest," said Pertinax. "The public excuse was, that I should look into the possibility of holding the Olympic games here. Strangely enough, I suspected nothing. He has been flatteringly friendly of late. Those whom I requested him to spare, he spared, even though their names were on his proscription list and I had not better excuse than that they had done no wrong! The day before I left I brought a list to him of names that I commended to his favor—your father's name among them, Sextus."

      Pertinax turned his back again and strode toward the window, where he stood like a statue framed in the luminous gloom. The only part of him that moved was his long fingers, weaving together behind him until the knuckles cracked.

      Cornificia, subduing her contralto voice, read the letter aloud:

      "To Nimius Secundus Sextus, son of Galienus Maximus, the freedman Rufus

       Glabrio sends humble greeting.

      "May the gods give solace and preserve you. Notwithstanding all your noble father's piety—his respect for elders and superiors—he was accused of treason and of blasphemy toward the emperor, by whose orders he was seized yesterday and beheaded the same day. The estates have already been seized. It is said they will be sold to Asinus Sejanus, who is probably the source of the accusation against