“Merciful gods!  Who would not crave to glance into the future?”

“And it is that which makes him late?” said Caesar, with more curiosity than anger.

“Hardly by broad daylight,” replied Priscillianus.  “The spirits he would fain evoke shun the light of day, it is said.  But he may be weary with late watching and painful agitations.”

“Then he calls up spirits at night?”

“Undoubtedly, great Caesar.  But, in this capital of philosophy, spirits are illogical it would seem.  How can Macrinus interpret the prophecy that he, who is already on the highest step attainable to us lower mortals, shall rise yet higher?”

“We will ask him,” said Caesar, indifferently.  “But you—­guard your tongue.  It has already cost some men their heads, whom I would gladly see yet among the living.  Wishes can not be punished.  Who does not wish to stand on the step next above his own?  You, my friend, would like that of Macrinus.—­But deeds!  You know me!  I am safe from them, so long as each of you so sincerely grudges his neighbor every promotion.  You, my Lucius, have again proved how keen your sight is, and, if it were not too great an honor for this refractory city to have a Roman in the toga praetexta at the head of its administration, I should like to make you the guardian of the peace here.  You see me,” he went on, “in an elated mood to-day.—­Cilo, you know this gem which came tome from my father.  Look at it, and at this maiden.—­Come nearer, priest of the divine Alexander; and you too consider the marvel, Theocritus, Antigonus, Dio, Pandion, Paulinus.  Compare the face of the female figure with this girl by my side.  The master carved this Roxana long before she was born.  You are surprised?  As Alexander’s soul dwells in me, so she is Roxana, restored to life.  It has been proved by irrefragable evidence in the presence of Philostratus.”

The priest of Alexander here exclaimed, in a tone of firm conviction: 

“A marvel indeed!  We bow down to the noble vessel of the soul of Alexander.  I, the priest of that hero, attest that great Caesar has found that in which Roxana’s soul now exists.”  And as he spoke he pressed his hand to his heart, bowing low before Caesar; the rest imitated his example.  Even Julius Paulinus, the satirist, followed the Roman priest’s lead; but he whispered in the ear of Cassius Dio “Alexander’s soul was inquisitive, and wanted to see how it could live in the body which, of all mortal tenements on earth, least resembles his own.”

A mocking word was on the ex-consul’s lips as to the amiable frame of mind which had so suddenly come over Caesar; but he preferred to watch and listen, as Caracalla beckoned Theocritus to him and begged him to give up the appointment of Zminis, though, as a rule, he indulged the favorite’s every whim.  He could not bear, he said, to intrust the defense of his own person and of the city of Alexander to an Egyptian, so long as a Greek could be found capable of the duty.  He proposed presently to have the two candidates brought before him, and to decide between them in the presence of the prefect of the praetorians.  Then, turning to those of his captains who stood around him, he said: