After my seclusion at Baiae, up to the terrible events which I am about to narrate, by far the most important of my experiences had been my personal observations of the fights of Palus the Gladiator and what I had heard and thought about him. Therefore I have narrated those at length and first. Now I approach the story of my most dreadful miseries.

From my return to Rome my life had gone on much as it had before my master had compelled me to impersonate Salsonius Salinator and, in so doing, to resume my natural appearance as I had looked while my genuine self, and thus, undisguised, to mingle with the associates of my normal early life. After my hair and beard had regained their previous luxuriance and I was again painted, rouged, frizzed, bejeweled, and bedizened, I felt safe and, was in fact, almost entirely safe. In this guise I enjoyed life. Falco was indulgent to me and I had every luxury at my command.

Falco's mania for gem-collecting did not wane, but, if possible, grew on him. His ventures all prospered, his profits from risky speculations poured in, his normal income from his heritage increased; and, of all this opulence, every surplus denarius was paid out for gems and curios. Yet he never was so much a faddist as to lose a day from the games of the circus and the amphitheater. He viewed every show of gladiators, every day of racing, almost every combat and every race.

The day after the spectacular games for Murmex and his more spectacular cremation, the eighth day before the Kalends of January, was nominally the last racing day of the year. The weather was fair and mild. The Circus Maximus was crowded, the Imperial Pavilion blazed with the retinue about the Emperor, he and all of us enjoyed the thirty races of four four-horsed chariots to each. I mention this because it was his last public appearance.

The festivities of the Saturnalia, which I had prepared for according to
Falco's orders with lavish prodigality, left me more than a little weary.
I spent some days mostly in resting and dozing, being drowsy all day, even
with long nights of sound sleep.

On the fatal last day of the year I did not go out, but read or dozed and went early to bed. I slept heavily, knowing nothing from composing myself in bed until I wakened suddenly in the almost complete darkness of the first hint of light at the dawn of a cloudy, windless winter day, I woke with a sense of having been roused, of something unusual; and, vaguely descrying a human figure by my bed asked, sleepily:

"Is that you, Dromo?"

"No," said Agathemer's voice, "it is I."

I raised myself on one elbow, shot through with foreboding. But my apprehensions were mastered by an idle curiosity. I knew he had some imperative reason for coming to me, yet I did not ask his errand, but queried:

"How on earth did you get in?"

"The house-door was open," he said simply.

"But," I marvelled, "I am surprised that the janitor was awake so early."

"He was not," said Agathemer with deliberate emphasis, "he was as fast asleep in his cell on the right of the vestibule as was the watch-dog in his on the left."

"And you walked past both unnoticed?" I hazarded.

"I did," said he, "and you had best warn Falco somehow or induce him to sell his janitor and buy one he can trust or to put in his place some trusty home-slave. That is no sort of a janitor for the house containing the second-largest private gem-collection in all Rome. Nor any sort of watch-dog."

"How came the door unbarred?" I wondered, "who showed you up here?"

"I came up alone," said Agathemer, significantly. "I have not seen a human being except the snoring janitor. This house is at the mercy of any sneak- thief. But you can return to that later. I have come to tell you good news. Commodus is dead!"

"Really?" I quavered.

Oddly enough I felt no sense of relief. Before my eyes arose the picture of Commodus as I had seen him facing the mutineers from Britain before he condemned Perennis: I recalled how often I had heard said of him that he was the noblest born of all our Emperors from the Divine Julius down; that he was the handsomest and the strongest man in any assembly about him, however large; that in his Imperial Regalia he looked more imperial than any man ever had: I contrasted his possession of these qualities with his pitiful squandering of his boundless opportunities, with his frittering away his life on horse-racing, sword-play and such like frivolities. I could not think of myself, only of what Commodus might have been and had not been. I mourned for him and Rome.

Agathemer sat down on the edge of my bed and told his story.

"You know," he said, "that, as gem-expert and as salesman for Orontides, I have many friends in the Palace. I have carefully kept out of it myself and Orontides has acquiesced, for I told him I had good reason to avoid going in there, as you well know I have. If Marcia had seen me she would have recognized me and I should not have lived many hours, for she, believing you dead, would regard me as, of all men, the most likely to see through the utilization of Ducconius Furfur as a dummy Emperor to free Commodus for masquerading as Palus. She would want me out of the way as the only man in Rome who had known Furfur in Sabinum. Therefore I kept away from the Palace.

"But my good friends among the valets and chamberlains and secretaries, and even higher officials have not only kept me posted as to the most interesting happenings, intrigues and rumors, but one or two close to the Emperor have regularly communicated to me many details of Palace gossip."

Daily, since the death of Murmex, Agathemer had been informed of long, heated and ever longer and more violent discussions between Commodus and Marcia, often, with Eclectus also present and participating, for he had been acting towards Commodus more as an equal toward a crony than as Head Chamberlain of the Palace towards his master. Laetus, too had also participated, sometimes in place of Eclectus, sometimes along with him, for he also had been comporting himself more as a chum of Commodus than as Prefect of the Praetorium towards his Emperor.

The substance of the discussions had been always the same. Commodus, at once after the death of Murmex, announced his intention of turning his Imperial duties and dignities over to Ducconius Furfur and of going to the Choragium, there and thenceforward to live and to die as Palus the Gladiator. He declared that as Emperor he never had an hour free from anxiety, always in dread of assassination by poison or otherwise, whereas, as a gladiator among gladiators, he felt perfectly safe and carefree, beloved and watched over by all his companions and certain to win all his fights.

"As Emperor," he said, "I'll not live a year; as Palus I'll most likely die of old age, forty years or more from now. Furfur and I are so alike that no one can tell us apart, so no one will ever suspect that the man acting as Emperor is not the same man who has filled that place ever since Father died."

Marcia had talked to him of his duty and he had rejoined that he had always known that he was unfit to be the Emperor, had feared his responsibilities, had undertaken them unwillingly, had mostly bungled them, and the world would be far better off with anybody else as Emperor, that everybody knew it and that he was despised by the whole Senate and nobility and for that reason more unhappy although he was unhappy enough so anyhow, without the covert jeers of the magistrates; whereas he was the best gladiator ever and all gladiators and experts acknowledged and acclaimed him peerless; as a gladiator he would be happy and enjoy life up to whatever end came to him, preferably an unexpected accidental sudden death such as had befallen Murmex. Ducconius Furfur had not only sat in his throne at shows, but had received embassies, read better than he the addresses composed for him by his Prefects of the Praetorium and Secretaries, knew all the tricks of the office and could and would be a better Emperor than ever he had been.

When Eclectus and Laetus argued with him the results were similar.

Then Marcia admonished him that while Furfur had escaped detection in mere routine matters he was certain to be detected within a few days if he essayed all the Imperial duties before all sorts of people. In that case some sort of revolt would abolish him and put a new Emperor in place of him and any such chosen autocrat would quickly order the death of Palus the Gladiator to assure himself the throne. To this line of argument Commodus had been as deaf as to all other lines.

"Why," he had said, "if I change clothes with Furfur you wouldn't know the difference yourself. If we both were garbed as Emperor, Laetus wouldn't know which to obey. And if my wife and most loyal servant cannot tell which is which when we are side by side and habited alike, who will ever suspect that Furfur is not I when I am out of the way, far off, living as Palus the Swordsman, never alongside the Emperor or in sight at the same time? The plan cannot miscarry."

He had announced that he meant on the Kalends of January to take up his abode in the Choragium and leave the Palace and its adjuncts and all his prerogatives to Ducconius Furfur. He had Furfur in and the five had a heated wrangle. Furfur, after the discussion, had another with Marcia, Eclectus and Laetus, declaring that he thought the scheme as insane as they thought it, but dared not show reluctance for fear of being put to death at once: as an impostor Emperor he would, at least, have a chance, if a faint chance, of success and survival.

Then they all had a long altercation on the last day of the year, during which Commodus cursed Marcia and Eclectus and Laetus and vowed he would have them all executed if they mentioned the subject again. He imperiously bade them acquiesce and so silenced them.

Then he made Furfur, who pretended to him that he was delighted, remain to drink with him. They drank till both were dead drunk and snoring.

Marcia, finding them so, held a consultation with Eclectus and Laetus and proposed to have Narcissus strangle Furfur, saying that with Furfur out of the way Commodus might come to his senses: she would risk his wrath and be resigned to death if she failed to placate him; for, with Furfur dead, he could not carry out his crazy intentions. She said she loved Commodus so much that she was willing to save him even at the cost of her own life.

Eclectus and Laetus acclaimed her plan and were overjoyed at their opportunity, for all three hated Furfur. Yet, all three shrank from going into the room with Narcissus. He, entering alone, mistook the two sleepers, who had changed clothes, and by mistake for Furfur, strangled Commodus. After his victim was indubitably dead and past any possibility of reviving he summoned his accomplices and, when Marcia shrieked and fainted, for the first time realized his blunder.

Then, frantic, he seized Furfur and strangled him to death long before
Eclectus had revived Marcia from her swoon.

As Agathemer told it to me all this came out in a haphazard tangle of unfinished sentences, interruptions, fresh starts, questions, answers, repetitions and explanations.

Meanwhile the day had dawned gray and lowering. Of all my strange experiences none were more eery than that talk with Agathemer, beginning in the dark and, with his form and features and expressions effaced, gradually becoming more and more visible. And towards the end of his disclosures he checked himself in the middle of a word and, raising his hand, whispered:

"Hark!"

Silent and tense, we listened. Even in my bedroom, opening on the side gallery of the peristyle, we heard, from over the roofs, cries of:

"The tyrant is dead! The despot is dead! The prize-fighter is dead! The murderer is dead!"

"The news is out!" Agathemer ejaculated, and he breathed a prayer to Mercury, in which I joined. When finally he had told all he had to tell I marvelled:

"Can it be possible that the most intimate and secret conversations of the Prince of the Republic, of the most sedulously guarded man on earth, are thus overheard by underlings and so promptly communicated even to outsiders presumably to be reckoned among his enemies?"

"I conjecture," Agathemer rejoined, "that I am not the only outsider in receipt of information of this kind."

"If you have been, all along," I asked, "in receipt of such information, why have you always talked of Furfur's presence in the Palace and his utilization as a dummy Emperor while Commodus masqueraded as Palus, as a conjecture of yours which you believed, but of which you could not be certain? Why have you not frankly spoken of it as a fact, which many knew of and of which some in a position to know, repeatedly informed you?"

"Because no one ever did so inform me," Agathemer answered, "they merely dropped hints, mostly hints, unnoticed by themselves, unintentionally dropped by them, and uncertainly pieced together by me. While Commodus was alive each of my informants, however fond of me, however under obligations to me, however anticipative of profit from me, however eager to curry favor with me, yet had vividly before him the dread of death, of death with torture, if any disloyalty of his, any dereliction in deed, word or thought, came to the notice of Commodus or Laetus or Eclectus, or if any one of them came to harbor any suspicion of him. All were vague, guarded, indefinite, cautious.

"Since midnight all that has changed. None fears any retribution for blabbing; all feel an overmastering urge towards confiding in some one. The three who, each unknown to the others, have resorted to me, told me unreckonably more than I previously conjectured. I comprehend the entire situation, now."

"If so," I said, "make me comprehend it. I do not. How could Furfur be coerced or persuaded to such an imposture? How could he be domiciled in the Palace along with Marcia and Commodus and the deception maintained? How could the three personally endure or even sustain the difficulties of the situation?"

"It all hinged," Agathemer explained, "on the fact that Furfur was insanely in love with Marcia, that Marcia hated and loathed him and that Commodus realized how each felt to the other. He was so sure of Marcia's detestation of Furfur that he was never jealous of him, so sure of Furfur's complete subserviency to Marcia that he never feared betrayal by him. Actually, from what I hear, Furfur complied as he did partly from loyalty to Commodus, partly from fear of him, partly, perhaps, from a sort of relish for his risky impersonation, but chiefly because he was wax in Marcia's hands; as, indeed, was every man who came within reach of her fascinations. Does that explain it?"

"Enough," I agreed. "Perhaps as far as it can or could be explained."

"The main thing," said Agathemer, "is that Commodus is dead."

"I should be pleased to hear that," I said, "and I am and I thank you. But, somehow, I am unable to think of myself. Uppermost in my mind is the thought of the dead autocrat, of his unlimited power, of his inability to surround himself with trustworthy dependents, and of all you have had hinted to you and, even to-night, told you. In such a world, who can consider himself safe?"

Agathemer looked piqued.

"I reckoned," he said, "that you would feel, if not safe, at least less unsafe upon hearing my announcement."

"I do," said I, "for, under any other Prince, I should be less in danger, and, when we learn who is chosen Emperor, it may turn out that I have some chance of rehabilitation."

"Laetus and Eclectus," said Agathemer, "have decided to make Pertinax
Emperor. When my informer left the Palace they had already set off to find
Pertinax, presumably at his home, and offer him the Principate."

"That," I gloried, "is truly good news. I knew him as a young noble knows many an older senator: he may remember me. He should have nothing against me. You raise my hopes high!"

"By all means be hopeful and cheerful," said Agathemer, "but stick to your present disguise and continue your present way of life until we are sure. Do not be rash."

We consulted further and he said:

"I'll keep away from you except when it seems imperative to talk with you. I shall not send any more letters than I must. Do not write to me. If you must see me, it will be safe to come to Orontides' shop, as Falco is continually sending you there about gems. You can nod to me without any uttered word and I'll then come here as soon as may be."

He left just as dawn brightened into full day.

Among the first proclamations of our new Emperor was one expressly abolishing the court for prosecuting accusations for infringement of the Imperial Majesty by incautious words or inadvertent acts and at the same time decreeing the recall of every living exile banished for such transgressions; also specifically rehabilitating the memory of all persons who had been under Commodus, put to death on the pretext of this sort of guilt. Before the end of the day on which this decree was promulgated I received a letter from Agathemer in which he wrote:

"Beware! Keep close. Already it is rumored that exceptions to this decree have been made. Marcia is still alive, is married to Eclectus, and Eclectus is confirmed as Palace Chamberlain. With Marcia close to the Emperor you are not safe, no matter who is Emperor. Keep close!"

I followed his advice, which was easy for me to do, as I was very comfortable and well habituated to my life. Moreover I was buoyed up with hope of early rehabilitation and of then marrying Vedia, who sent me one cautiously worded note, congratulating me on the disappearance of my most dangerous foeman, warning me that I still had formidable enemies alive and in high places, and begging me to be prudent. She reiterated her expressions of love, devotion and fidelity.

From Tanno also I received a letter warning me to be on guard and to efface myself as much as possible.

Falco, who had loathed Commodus, but had been careful to keep a still tongue on all matters except horse-racing, sword-play, social pleasures and gem-collecting, was much relieved at his death, and heartily delighted with his successor. He took pains to be present among the auditors of Pertinax whenever nobles were admitted along with the senators to listen to his addresses, which was almost always. He took to heart the new Emperor's adjurations as to economy and his invectives against the evils of speculative enterprises of all kinds. Over our wine after dinner, when we two dined alone together, much as Agathemer and I had when I was my former self, he unbosomed himself to me.

"Pertinax is right," he averred, "there is a real difference between enterprises which enrich only the participants and those which, while profiting their promoters, also add to the wealth of the Republic. I applaud his distinction between the two. I agree with him that wealthy men like me should invest their capital in nothing which does not benefit mankind as well as themselves. I have realized with a shock of shame that my greed for cash to spend on jewels has led me to embark in ventures which merely divert into my coffers the proceeds of other men's efforts, without adding anything to the sum-total of usable wealth. I mean to withdraw from all such monetary acrobatics and utilize my surplus in extending my estates, in buying others, in cattle-breeding, sheep-raising, goat-herding, and in the cultivation of olives, vines, and other such remunerative growths, along with wheat-farming. Thus I will add to the resources of the Republic, while increasing my own cash income.

"Our conscientious Prince is equally correct in exhorting us to eschew all frivolities. I'll buy no more gems. Nay, I'll auction my collection, as soon as Rome recovers its calm and purchasers are as eager as last year. I'll invest the proceeds in productive enterprise. Thus, as Pertinax says, I shall be a more useful citizen and an even happier man."

Actually he at once initiated his arrangements for closing out the speculative ventures which he controlled and for withdrawing from those in which he participated. And he bought no more gems, though he talked gems as much as previously, or even more, and took great pride in showing visitors over his collection or in conning his treasures in company with me or even entirely alone by himself.

His enthusiasm for Pertinax grew warmer day by day and he talked of him, praising him, lauded him, prophesied for him great things and from him great benefits to the Republic and the Empire.

The alleged conspiracy against Pertinax of Consul Sosius Falco and his disgrace and relegation to his estates was a great shock to my master. That his cousin should plot against the Prince of our Republic, or lay himself open to accusation of such plotting, appeared to him hideous and shameful. He felt disgraced himself, as bearing the same family name. He gloomed and mourned over the matter.

The murder of Pertinax, by his own guards, on the fifth day before the Kalends of April, when he had been less than three months Emperor, was even a more violent shock to Falco, who was crushed with horror at such a crime. He was even more horrified at the arrogance of the guilty Praetorians and at their shameless effrontery in offering the Imperial Purple to the highest bidder and in, practically, selling the Principiate to so bestial a Midas as Didius Julianus, who, of all the senators, seemed most to misbecome the Imperial Dignity and who had nothing to recommend him except his opulence.

During the days of rioting which followed the murder of Pertinax we, naturally, kept indoors. When the disorders abated and the streets of Rome resumed their normal activities, Falco continued to remain at home. I expostulated with him, but he appeared, suddenly, a changed man, as if dazed and stunned by recent events. He, who had been continually on the go, living in a round of social pleasures, became averse to much of what he had before revelled in. My most ingenious pleadings were required to induce him to go to the Public Baths, which fashionable clubhouses he had frequented every afternoon from his first arrival at Rome. Until the death of Pertinax he had only very occasionally dined alone with me: nearly every day he went out to a formal dinner or entertained a large batch of guests at a lavish banquet. After Pertinax's murder he began to refuse invitations to dine and he gave fewer dinners. He spent a great deal of his time with his lawyers and accountants and went over the affairs of his African estates, minutely, one by one and all of them. He made a new will and told me of it.

"Phorbas," he said, "I am troubled with forebodings. I have never thought of death until recently, except as of something far off and to be considered much later: since the murder of our good Emperor I think of it continually. If I live long enough to see normal conditions restored I shall follow the suggestions given to me by the addresses of Pertinax and shall auction my gems. Meanwhile I dread that I may not live to do so. Therefore I have made a will leaving my entire collection to you. I hereby enjoin you, should you come into possession of them, to sell the gems at auction, as soon as you see fit, and to invest the proceeds in enterprises which shall add to the wealth of the Republic. This bequest is a trust. Besides I have, as in former wills, bequeathed to you your freedom, and a legacy sufficient to make you comfortable for life. Moreover I have made you the heir of one-fourth of my estate, what remains of it after the gem collections is yours and all specific legacies are paid. I do not love my nephews and cousins and have bequeathed to them more than they deserve; as to the toadies who have hung about me and fawned on me in the hope of legacies, I despise them all. You are my best friend and chief heir."

I thanked him effusively and was so much affected that I myself began to have uncomfortable, vague forebodings. Agathemer happened to visit me and I confided to him the contents of my old leather amulet-bag. Of course I had not worn it since I began life with Falco, as a greasy old amulet-bag of the meanest material and pattern was wholly out of keeping with the character I had assumed. I wore instead a flat locket of pure gold, containing a talisman from the Pontic fastnesses. I had kept my share of our mountain trove of stolen jewels, not needing to part with any after Falco bought me and unconcerned for the gems, as I now needed no such store of savings. Now, suddenly, I felt uneasy about myself, my future and my possessions. These jewels I therefore placed in Agathemer's keeping, sure that they would be safer with him than with me and certain that he could realize on them quickly and transmit to me promptly whatever sums I might need.

I did all I could to rouse Falco from his lethargy and succeeded to some extent. But, all through April and May, he went out little, accepted few invitations and gave few dinners. Much of his time he spent among his jewels, conning them, handling them, taking curios from their cases and, as it were, caressing them. The rooms which held them were on the left hand side of the peristyle on the upper floor, across the court from my apartment and not precisely opposite it. There were three rooms; the larger with a door on the gallery, and a smaller on either side of it, opening from it and lit by windows towards the gallery. Each room had a marble table in the middle, small and round in both side cabinets, rectangular and large in the main room. Each of the three rooms was walled with cases and shelves; on the shelves were displayed his larger curios, vases, cameos, intaglios, plaques, murrhine bowls and such like; in the cases were necklaces, bracelets, rings, seals and trays of unset gems of all sorts and sizes. Here Falco spent hours each day, gloating over his treasures.

"Phorbas," he said, "I am resolute never to buy another gem, equally resolute to auction all I have whenever conditions make a profitable sale probable. Yet, although I feel that I shall never live to see them auctioned, the very thought of parting with them cuts me to the quick. I am almost in tears to think of it. I love every piece I own. I hate to think I must either live to see them sold or die and leave them. I cannot be with them enough of my time. I could spend all my waking hours enjoying their loveliness and my luck in owning them."

I thought this condition of mind positively unhealthy and consulted Galen.

"You are right," he said, "and you are wrong too. Your master is badly shaken by the horrors of this appalling year, but he is not deranged nor, at this present time, in any more danger of derangement than most of the senators and nobles with whom he associates. Yet you are correct in being uneasy. Don't antagonize him, but do all you can, tactfully and unobtrusively, to keep him away from those jewels and to get him out to the Baths of Titus or to dinners. Do your utmost to induce him to entertain. A jolly dinner with a bevy of jovial guests will be the very medicine for him."

Had I been a Greek I could not have been, more wily or more successful. He spent less time with his gems, went out to the Baths oftener, accepted some dinner invitations and gave a few dinners. He even took some interest in preparing for these and in giving orders about them. He had five complete sets of silverware for his triclinium and had a fancy for using this or that set, according to the characters of his prospective guests.

Early in May he had invited a carefully selected company of concordant guests, three senators and the rest nobles like himself, and was anticipating a delightful evening. He had bidden me to see to the selection of the flowers for decorating the triclinium, for the garlands, and for sprinkling on the floor; to choose the wines I thought would be most appropriate and to have brought out and used his most prized set of silver, the work of Corinnos of Rhodes, embossed with scenes from Ovid's Metamorphoses and acclaimed one of the finest services in Rome. Besides the two tall mixing-bowls for tempering the wine before serving it, the set had four smaller ones, about the size of well-buckets, and much like them, for each was provided with two hinged handles, just like a water-pail. I saw to the polishing of every piece in this magnificent service, to their proper disposal, to the decoration of the triclinium with flowers, verified the wines I had chosen, inspected every detail of the preparations for the feast, and, just before the first guest might be expected to arrive, went out and back into the kitchen to make sure that every dish of each course was being properly prepared and that nothing would be lacking.

When I returned to the triclinium I found it swept clean of silver, except the two big wine mixers. The four two-handled pails were gone and with them the salt-cellars, the wine strainers, every soup-spoon, every oyster-spoon, in fact every small piece, to the last. The thieves must have been deft, agile and keen, for nothing was overset or disturbed and I had heard no noise.

I rushed to the house-door, found it ajar and, each sleeping in his cell, on the one side the snoring janitor, on the other our fat, pursy, overfed watchdog.

I omit my hasty measures for pursuing the thieves and attempting their capture or at least the recovery of their booty; and my urgent and important efforts to arrange that our guests should be properly received and the dinner should not be spoiled. Towards this last I did what could be done and with fair success, Falco playing up to my suggestions and dissimulating his chagrin.

More important to record was his amazing indifference to his loss. Not that he did not feel it acutely, but that he seemed to feel no proper indignation against those at fault.

He questioned the janitor and all the slaves concerned, but instead of ordering scourged the two servitors whom I had left in the triclinium when I went out of it to visit the kitchen and who should have remained there until my return, he merely reprimanded them mildly. He did not so much as have the undutiful janitor flogged, let alone sent away for sale. He even laughed at the luck, alertness, dexterity and swiftness of the thieves; picturing their glance into the unshut door, their glances up and down the street, their eyeings of the watchdog and janitor, their noiseless dash into the atrium, their invasion of the triclinium, their gathering of the smaller pieces into the four handled wine-mixers, and their escape, each with two silver pails stuffed with goblets, salt- cellars, and bowls and, brimming with strainers, spoons and other small pieces.

He commented on their luck in not encountering any of his approaching guests.

"Mercury," he said, "to whom you chiefly pray, must have been good to them, as his votaries."

I was horrified at the levity of his attitude of mind. When we were alone I remonstrated with him, saying that such leniency was certain to demoralize his household; would ruin any set of slaves. I told him that his retention of the janitor after Agathemer's unnoticed entrance on the first day of the year was bad enough, far worse was it to condone a second lapse, and that having had consequences so serious. I expostulated that it was madness to entrust his housedoor to a watchman already twice caught asleep at his post. I reminded him of the cash value of his gem-collection and of its value in his eyes, not to be reckoned in cash. He listened indulgently and said:

"I thank you, Phorbas. All you say is true. And, any time last year, I should have sold that janitor without a thought, after your information against him last January. But, somehow, since the murder of Commodus, yet more since the murder of Pertinax, I seem less prone to severity and more inclined to mercy. The waiter-boys deserve flogging, but I cannot harden my heart and order it. The janitor merits being sold without a character, after a severe scourging; yet I feel for him, too. I'll give him another chance."

I could not move him.

I again consulted Galen:

"You are right!" he exclaimed. "A Roman nobleman who hesitates to have his slaves flogged or sold and merely reprimands them, is certainly deranged. Any natural Roman would insist on scourgings and even severer punishments, But his eccentricity is not dangerous to him or anybody as yet. Humor him, do not oppose his worship of his treasures, but entice him away from them all you can by devices he does not suspect.

"And let me add, keep away from me, for your own sake. Keep away from Vedia and Tanno and Agathemer. Do not write letters. True, Julianus has put Marcia to death and you are rid of a pertinacious and alert enemy. But he has recalled into favor most of the professional informers who flourished under Commodus and they are on the watch for victims to win them praise and rewards. Several of the exiles recalled by Pertinax have been rearrested and re-banished or even executed since Julianus came into power. Keep close and beware!"