But to this man, who can compass seeming impossibilities, nothing is too difficult. With such immense odds against him, he does not falter. Murder, the infamous tool that Livia and Tiberius had wielded to cement their power, is understood equally well by him. The five atrocious murders in the family of the Divine Augustus had sown in the heart of Sejanus seeds that have matured into deadly fruit. He had recently executed a murder for the emperor in a peculiarly skilful and satisfactory manner. In gratitude for this service the emperor decreed that wherever one of his own statues stood, a statue of Sejanus should be erected beside that of his royal master. With this supreme honor conferred upon him, with the flattery of senate, soldiers, and common people, and with the conquest of Livilla’s heart, and her consent to his ambitious and murderous schemes, he feels well content with himself as he lies there. He is an emperor in everything except the name. But one thing must be done before he can feel absolutely secure. He calls a soldier, and gives an order, after which he takes up a silver cup and with an evil smile slowly sips his wine. While Sejanus lies there dreaming, Gannon is pondering over his troubles. The poor lad patiently awaits some sign that can be construed as a hope of pardon. He has seen no one except a servant, who carried him some supper. The time passes slowly, and the monotony of silence is broken only by the soldiers as they call out the hours for changing the watch. He is sleepy, and decides to go to bed. Just then he is startled by hearing footsteps in the corridor. He hears his name called, and receives an order to appear on the roof. Joyfully he springs from his couch, for he thinks he is now pardoned. Yet the command is an unusual one. What can it mean? With his young heart bounding with hope, he mounts the steps lightly, taking care not to stumble in the darkness. When he reaches the last step, the soldier, who had shortly before received an order from Sejanus, catches him by the throat, another seizes his body, and before the poor boy can collect his thoughts, he is carried to the railing that borders the edge of the roof, and is thrown into the street below. As he strikes the ground, a pitiful groan is heard. A spasmodic tremor passes through his body, and then all is still. Chapter III While Gannon was anxiously considering how he could communicate with his family, they were safe and happy at home. The evening meal was finished, and they were seated in the atrium of their one-storied house of four rooms. On a wooden table burned a small terra-cotta lamp, which shed a dim light through the room. Psyche and her mother were seated together. Alcmaeon lay on a couch near them. “Hast thou finished rehearsing for the celebration, O daughter?” asked Alcmaeon. “On the afternoon of the morrow the last rehearsal will take place, O my father,” she replied.