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Macrinus, who commands you, promised me, moreover, that the women's apartments should be respected. No praetorian, whether common soldier or commander, and here she raised her voice, "shall set foot within them! Here is his writing. The prefect set the seal beneath it in Caesar's name." "I know of the order, noble lady," interrupted Nemesianus, "and should be the last to wish to act against it.
They resembled one another exactly; and this likeness, which procured them much amusement, they greatly enhanced by arranging their coal-black beards and hair in exactly the same way, and by dressing alike down to the rings on their fingers. One was called Apollonaris, the other Nemesianus Aurelius.
It is Rome herself who calls you through me like her, a woman maltreated and wounded to the heart's core to bear arms in her service till she gives you the signal for making an end of the dastardly blood hound!" The brothers gazed at one another pale and speechless, till at last Nemesianus ventured to say "He deserves to die, we know, a thousand deaths, but we are neither judges nor executioners.
The flames had destroyed a picture a small painted fragment betrayed the fact. They perhaps possessed masterpieces of Apelles or Zeuxis. This woman's hatred would lead her to destroy them rather than let them fall into the hands of her imperial enemy; and who can blame her?" "It was her daughter's portrait," said Nemesianus, unguardedly. The legate turned upon him in surprise.
"If we came from slaughtering men upon the field of battle, it could only do honor to the soldier; but this is the blood of defenseless citizens, and even women's gore is mixed with it." "I saw the body of the lady of this house," said Nemesianus, gloomily. "She has tended my brother like a mother."
In the last of these stood the statue of Eros by Praxiteles. The glorious sunshine lighted up the smiling marble face; with the charm of bewitching beauty he seemed to gaze at the lurid crimson pools on the ground, and at the armed cohorts which marched in front to shed more blood and rouse more hatred. As Nemesianus withdrew from the window, Argutis came into the room.
"An unfortunate man," was Apollinaris's answer. "Seleukus, the master of this house?" asked Quintus Flavius, sternly. "No," replied Nemesianus. "It is only a poor, wounded painter. And yet the praetorians will go through fire and water for you, if you deliver up this man to them as their booty. But if you are what I hold you to be "
"You are true Aurelians, you boys; and, though you may doubt whether I am the man you take me for, I confess with pleasure that you are exactly as I would wish to have you. The praetorians have slain your friend and servant; I give you that man to make amends for it." With deep emotion Nemesianus seized his old friend's hands, and Apollinaris spoke words of gratitude to him from his couch.
But what was that?" Loud voices were audible outside the sick-room. Nemesianus stationed himself in front of the lady, sword in hand. This protection, however, proved unnecessary, for, instead of the praetorians, Johanna entered the room, supporting on her arm the half-sinking form of a young man in whom no one would have recognized the once beautifully curled and carefully dressed Alexander.
When Nemesianus began to bind up his wounded brother's head with a handkerchief handed to him by Melissa, and Caracalla saw the gaping wounds he had inflicted, he became quieter, and said: "I think those lips will not try to steal kisses again for some time from honorable maidens.
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