Within a week of this sailing Titus at length returned to Rome. Here in due course the case of Marcus was brought before him by the prisoner’s friends, together with a demand that he should be granted a new and open trial for the clearing of his honour. Titus, who for his own reasons refused to see Marcus, listened patiently, then gave his decision.
He rejoiced, he said, to learn that his close friend and trusted officer was still alive, since he had long mourned him as dead. He grieved that in his absence he should have been put upon his trial on the charge of having been taken captive, living, by the Jews, which, if Marcus upon his arrival in Rome had at once reported himself to him, would not have happened. He dismissed all accusations against his military honour and courage as mere idle talk, since he had a hundred times proved him to be the bravest of men, and knew, moreover, something of the circumstances under which he was captured. But, however willing he might be to do so, he was unable for public reasons to disregard the fact that he had been duly convicted by a court-martial, under the Prince Domitian, of having broken the command of his general and suffered himself to be taken prisoner alive. To do so would be to proclaim himself, Titus, unjust, who had caused others to suffer for this same offence, and to offer insult to the prince, his brother, who in the exercise of his discretion as commander in his absence, had thought fit to order the trial. Still, his punishment should be of the lightest possible. He commanded that on leaving his prison Marcus should go straight to his own house by night, so that there might be no public talk or demonstration among his friends, and there make such arrangement of his affairs as seemed good to him. Further, he commanded that within ten days he should leave Italy, to dwell or travel abroad for a period of three years, unless the time should be shortened by some special decree. After the lapse of these three years he would be free to return to Rome. This was his judgment and it could not be altered.
As it chanced, it was the chamberlain Saturius who first communicated the Imperial decree to Marcus. Hurrying straight from the palace to the prison he was admitted into the prisoner’s chamber.
“Well,” said Marcus, looking up, “what evil tidings have you now?”
“None, none,” answered Saturius. “I have very good tidings, and that is why I run so fast. You are only banished for three years, thanks to my secret efforts,” and he smiled craftily. “Even your property is left to you, a fact which will, I trust, enable you to reward your friends for their labours on your behalf.”
“Tell me all,” and the rogue obeyed, while Marcus listened with a face of stone.
“Why did Titus decide thus?” he asked when it was finished. “Speak frankly, man, if you wish for a reward.”
“Because, noble Marcus, Domitian had been with him beforehand and told him that if he reversed his public judgment it would be a cause of open quarrel between them. This, Caesar, who fears his brother, does not seek. That is why he would not see you, lest his love for his friend should overcome his reason.”