There came an awful sound of struggle from the inner room.  A monstrous roar was shut off suddenly, half-finished, smothered under bedclothes.  Then the bed-frame cracked under the strain of Titans fighting—­cracked —­creaked—­and utter silence fell.  It lasted several minutes.  Then the door opened and Narcissus came striding out.

“He was strong,” he remarked.  “Look at this.”

He bared his arm and showed where Commodus had gripped him; the lithe muscle looked as if it had been gripped in an iron vise.  He chafed it, wincing with pain.

“Go in and observe that I have taken nothing.  Don’t be afraid,” he added scornfully.  “He fought like the god that he was, but he died—­”

“Of apoplexy,” Galen interrupted.  “That is to say, of a surging of blood to the brain and a cerebral rupture.  It is fortunate you have a doctor on the scene who knew of his liability to—­”

“We must go and see,” said Marcia.  “Come with me, Pertinax.  Then we must tidy the bed and make haste and summon the officers of the praetorian guard.  Let them hear Galen say he died of apoplexy.”

She picked up a lamp from the table and Pertinax moved to follow her, but Narcissus stepped in his way.

“Ave, Caesar!” he said, throwing up his right hand.

“You may go,” said Pertinax.  “Go in silence.  Not a word to a soul in the corridors.  Leave Rome.  Leave Italy.  Take Sextus with you.”

“You will let him go?” asked Marcia.  “Pertinax, what will become of you?  Send to the guard at the gate and command them to seize him!  Sextus and Narcissus—­”

“Have my promise!” he retorted.  “If the fates intend me to be Caesar, it shall not be said I slew the men who set me on the throne.”

“You are Caesar,” she answered.  “How long will you last?  All omens favored you—­the murder in the tunnel—­now this storm, like a veil to act behind, and—­”

“And last night a falling star!” said Galen.  “Give me parchment.  I will write the cause of death.  Then let me go too, or else kill me.  I am no more use.  This is the second time that I have failed to serve the world by tutoring a Caesar.  Commodus the hero, and now you the—­”

“Silence!” Marcia commanded.  “Or even Pertinax may rise above his scruples!  Write a death certificate at once, and go your way and follow Sextus!”