Not far from Cæsarea, in the fortress of Macellum, dwelt Julian and Gallus, the cousins of the reigning Emperor Constantius, and the nephews of Constantine the Great. These two were the last representatives of the luckless house of the Flavii. On his accession to the throne, fearing rivals, Constantius had assassinated his uncle, the father of Julian and Gallus, Julian Constantius, the brother of Constantine. But Julian and Gallus themselves had been spared, and imprisoned in the solitary castle of Macellum, where they lived oppressed by perpetual fear of death. In great perplexity, knowing that the new Emperor loathed the two orphans who reminded him of his crime, Helvidius, Prefect of Cæsarea, desired, but dreaded, to divine the will of his master. Scuda, the adroit tribune, possessed by visions of a career at Court, grasped, from chance words of his superior officer, that the latter dared not take upon himself the heavy responsibility, and trembled lest the current rumour about an escape of the heirs of Constantine should be realised in fact. At this point Scuda made up his mind to go to Macellum, seize the prisoners, and bring them to Cæsarea under the safeguard of his legionaries, well assured that he had nothing to fear from these orphaned minors, abandoned by the world and hated by the Emperor. By this valiant proceeding, Scuda counted on regaining the favours of the Prefect Helvidius, so unhappily lost on account of the auburn-haired lady of Lydia. Nevertheless, being of a suspicious nature, he only communicated to Publius part of his plan. "And what do you propose now, Scuda? Have you received instructions from Constantinople?" "I have received nothing; nobody knows anything; but there is an everlasting hawking about of rumours, don't you see? There are endless veiled hopes and hints, unfinished phrases, threats and warnings, allusions.... Any idiot can do what he has been told to do. But this is a matter of guessing the mute will of our master. That's a job that brings reward. Come, let us make the venture, take the risk. The great thing is to be speedy and stout-hearted, and to trust in the Holy Cross!... I confide myself to you, Publius. Perhaps we shall be drinking at Court, you and I, before many days are over; and, by God, a better wine than this!"