‘You have a strange method of making your request,’ said the Emperor, with sardonic slowness, in the deep silence which immediately reigned at the sound of his voice. ‘Until this moment I thought the privacy of my room my own. When Pretorian officers set the example of breaking orders and over‐ riding regulations, it is time I saw to their discipline myself. I will begin with you. Deliver up your arms, and place yourself in the custody of the guard, awaiting my pleasure.’ The Emperor signed to the soldier Asca to enforce these commands, but, ere he moved, Martialis retired farther back with Neæra, until he reached the corner of the room. By this strategic movement into the empty angle he brought all his expected assailants more in front, and, thereby, vastly strengthened his position. ‘I crave your pardon, Caesar, for what must appear an unseemly intrusion into the privacy of your apartment, and nothing but the bitter circumstances of my case would ever have driven me to be guilty of such disregard of your presence,’ said the Centurion, with respectful but resolute mien. ‘I pray you, consider my position. I bear to the Prefect despatches from the camp at Rome, and have galloped since early dawn with barely a stop. Flinging myself from my horse at Surrentum, for a few brief minutes, at the house of my betrothed, I found it had been the spoil of ruffians. I have hastened hither without stop—what are every‐day rules and customs to a man whose brain is distraught with grief? Nothing could have touched me nearer, Caesar, and I entreat your indulgence—your pardon. Let her go, I beseech you—I doubt not the slaves have made some grave error. She cannot have given offence—it would not be possible for her sweet nature. It is not much thy Centurion asks, and he has served thee well.’ ‘Did you not stay, then, to deliver your despatches to the Prefect?’ said Tiberius. ‘They are here in my belt.’ ‘Another duty disregarded—the first care of a courier is the errand he is upon.’ ‘The Prefect will bear willing witness of my diligence in his service—I have ever the favour of his choice for the same errand,’ said Martialis. ‘Deliver up your weapons,’ said Tiberius harshly. ‘Guard, take him and lead him away.’ ‘He comes to certain death,’ said Martialis with energy. ‘You may overpower me, but it will cost you dear—you shall never take us alive.’ Excitement and commotion again shook the room like a turbulent sea, yet still it never gathered sufficient cohesion and weight to propel itself into the corner against the resolute form there. All eyes were bent on the luckless Pretorian Asca, whose glance, in turn, hung on Caesar’s with a piteous expression. With the selfish satisfaction which human beings view the misfortune of another, the soldier was assailed with cries of encouragement and censure, which came all the more freely from the lips of those for whom he acted as a kind of sacrifice.