In his hand he held a sheet of parchment, covered with writing and creased from his attempts to make a parchment helmet, "Show me," he said, holding out the sheet to Marcia.

She took him on her knee and began reading what was written, putting him down when he tugged at the parchment to make her show him how to fold it. She found him another sheet to play with and told him to take it to Pertinax who was a soldier and knew more about helmets. Then she went on reading, clutching at the sheet so tightly that her nails blanched white under the dye.

"Pertinax!" she said, shaking the parchment, speaking in a strained voice, "this is his final list! He has copied the names from his tablets. Whose name do you guess comes first?"

Pertinax was playing with Telamonion and did not look at her.

"Severus!" he answered, morbid jealousy, amounting to obsession, stirring that cynical hope in him.

"Severus isn't mentioned. The first six names are in this order: Galen, Marcia, Cornificia, Pertinax, Narcissus, s.e.xtus alias Maternus. Do you realize what that means? It is now or never! Why has he put Galen first, I wonder?"

Galen did not appear startled. His interest was philosophical- impersonal.

"I should be first. I am guiltiest. I taught him in his youth," he remarked, smiling thinly. "I taught him how to loose the beast that lives in him, not intending that, of course, but it is what we do that counts. I should come first! The state would have been better for the death of many a man whom I cured; but I did not cure Commodus, I revealed him to himself, and he fell in love with himself and-"

"Now will you poison him?" said Marcia.

"No," said Galen. "Let him kill me. It is better."

"G.o.ds! Has Rome no iron left? You, Pertinax!" said Marcia, "Go in and kill him!"

Pertinax stood up and stared at her. The child Telamonion pressed close to him holding his righthand, gazing at Marcia.

"Telamonion, go in and play with Narcissus," said Marcia. She pointed at the curtains and the child obeyed.

"Go in and kill him, Pertinax!" Marcia shook the list of names, then stood still suddenly, like a woman frozen, ash-white under the carmine on her cheeks.

There came a voice from the emperor's bedroom, more like the roar of an angry beast than human speech:

"Marcia! Do you hear me, Marcia? By all Olympus-Marcia!"

She opened the door. The inner room was in darkness. There came a gust of chill wet wind that made all the curtains flutter and there was a comfortless noise of cataracts of rain downpouring from the over-loaded gutters on to marble balconies. Then the emperor's voice again:

"Is that you, Marcia? You leave your Commodus to die of thirst! I parch-I have a fever-bring my wine-cup!"

"At once, Commodus."

She glanced at the golden cup on an onyx table. On a stand beside it was an unpierced wine jar set in an enormous bowl of snow. She looked at Pertinax-and shrugged her shoulders, possibly because the wind blew through the opened door. She glanced at Galen.

"If you have a fever, shouldn't I bring Galen?"

"No!" roared Commodus. "The man might poison me! Bring me the cup, and you fill it yourself! Make haste before I die of thirst! Then bring me another lamp and dose the shutters! No slaves-I can't bear the sight of them!"

"Instantly, Commodus. I am coming with it now. Only wait while I pierce the amphora."

She closed the door and looked swiftly once again at Pertinax. He frowned over the list of names and did not look at her. She walked straight up to Galen.

"Give me!" she demanded, holding out her hand. He drew a little parchment package from his bosom and she clutched it, saying nothing. Galen was the one who spoke:

"Responsibility is his who orders. May the G.o.ds see that it falls where it belongs."

She took no notice of his speech but stood for a moment untying the strings of the package, frowning to herself, then bit the string through and, clutching the little package in her fist, took a gilded tool from beside the snow-bowl and pierced the seal of the amphora. Then she put the poison in the bottom of the golden cup and poured the wine-with difficulty, since the jar was heavy, but Pertinax, who watched intently, made no movement to a.s.sist. She stirred the wine with one of her long hair-pins.

"Marcia!" roared Commodus.

"I am coming now."

She went into the bedroom, leaving the door not quite closed behind her.

Pertinax began to stare at Galen critically. Galen blinked at him.

Commodus' voice came very distinctly from the inner room: "Taste first, Marcia! Olympus! I can't see you in the dark. Come close. Are your lips wet? Let me feel them!"

"I drank a whole mouthful, Commodus. How hot your hand is! Feel-feel the cup-you can feel with your finger how much I have tasted. I broke the seal of a fresh jar of Falernian."

"Some of your Christians might have tampered with it!"

"No, no, Commodus. That jar has been in the cellar since before you were born and the seal was intact. I washed the cup myself."

"Well, taste again. Sit here on the bed where I can feel your heart- beats."

Presently he gave a gasp and belched, as always after he had swallowed a whole cupful at one draught.

"Now close the shutters and bolt them on the inside; there might be some of your Christians lurking on the balcony."

"In this storm, Commodus? And there are guards on duty."

"Close them, I say! Who trusts the guards! Did they guard the tunnel? I will rid Rome of all Christians tomorrow! Aye, and of many another reptile! They have robbed me of my fun in the arena-I will find another way to interest myself! Now bring me a fresh lamp in here, and set the tablets by the bed."

She came out, shutting the door behind her, then stood listening. She did not tremble. Her wrist was red where Commodus had held it.

"How long?" she whispered, looking at Galen.

"Only a very little time," he answered. "How much did you drink?"

She put her hand to her stomach, as if pain had stabbed her.

"Drink pure wine," said Galen. "Swiftly. Drink a lot of it."

She went to the amphora. Before she could reach it there came a roar like a furious beast's from the bedroom.

"I am poisoned! Marcia! Marcia! My belly burns! I am on fire inside! I faint! Marcia!-Marcia!" Then groans and a great creaking of the bed.

Marcia-she was trembling now-drank wine, and Pertinax began to pace the floor.

"You, Galen, you had better go in to him," said Marcia.

"If I do go, I must heal him," Galen answered.

The groans in the bedroom ceased. The shouts began again-terrific imprecations-curses hurled at Marcia-the struggles of a strong man in the throes of cramp-and, at last, the sound of vomiting.