It was Scuda’s plan to gain favour with his superiors by boldly carrying off the lads and sending them down to his barracks at Caesarea.  There were rumours from time to time of their escaping from Macellum, and Scuda knew, the emperor’s fear lest these possible claimants for the throne should gain a following among the soldiers of the people.  At Caesarea they would be in safe custody.

For the first time he gazed upon Gallus and Julian.  The former, with his indolent and listless blue eyes and flaxen hair, trembled and blinked, his eyelids heavy with sleep, and crossed himself.  The latter, thin, sickly, and pale, with large shining eyes, stared at Scuda fixedly, and shook with bridled rage.  In his right hand, hidden by the panther skin of his bed, which he had flung over his shoulder, he gripped the handle of a Persian dagger given him by Labda; it was tipped with the keenest of poisons.

A wild chance of safety suddenly occurred to Mardonius.  Throwing aside his sword, he caught hold of the tribune’s mantle, and shrieked out, “Do you know what you’re doing, rascals?  How dare you insult an envoy of Constantius?  It is I who am charged to conduct these two princes to court.  The august emperor has restored them to his favour.  Here is the order from Constantinople!”

“What is he saying?  What order is it?” Scuda waited in perplexity while Mardonius, after hunting in a drawer, pulled out a roll of parchment, and presented it to the tribune.  Scuda saw the name of the emperor, and read the first lines, without remarking the date of the document.  At the sight of the great imperial seal of dark green wax he became frightened.

“Pardon, there is some mistake,” said the tribune humbly.  “Don’t ruin us!  We are all brothers and fellow-sinners!  I beseech you in the name of Christ!”

“I know what acts you commit in the name of Christ.  Away with you!  Begone at once!” screamed Mardonius.  The tribune gave the order to retire, and only when the sound of the steps dying away assured Mardonius that all peril was over did the old man forget his tutorial dignity.  A wild fit of laughter seized him, and he began to dance.

“Children, children!” he cried gleefully.  “Glory to Hermes!  We’ve done them cleverly!  That edict was annulled three years ago!  Ah, the idiots, the idiots!”

At daybreak Julian fell into a deep sleep.

II.—­Julian the Emperor

Gallus had fallen at the hands of the imperial executioner, and Julian had been banished to the army in Gaul.  Constantius hoped to get news of the defeat and death of Julian, and was horribly disappointed when nothing was heard but tidings of victory.

Julian, successful in arms and worshipped by his soldiers, became more and more convinced that the old Olympian gods were protecting him and advancing his cause, and only for prudential reasons did he continue to attend Christian churches.  In his heart he abhorred the crucified Galilean God of the Christians, and longed for the restoration of the old worship of Apollo and the gods of Greece and Rome.