Martialis obeyed at once, and no sooner was the door closed behind him than she turned to the two brothers, and addressing herself first to one and then to the other with equal vehemence, she cried “Who is right now?  Of all the villains who have brought shame upon the throne and name of mighty Caesar, this is the most dastardly.  He has written plainly enough upon Apollinaris’s face how much he values a brave soldier, the son of a noble house.  And you, Nemesianus—­are you not also an Aurelius?  You say so; and yet, had he not chanced to let you care for your brother, you would at this moment be wandering through the city like a mad dog, biting all who crossed your path.  Why do you not speak?  Why not tell me once more, Nemesianus, that a soldier must obey his commander blindly?—­And you, Apollinaris, will you dare still to assert that the hand with which Caesar tore your face was guided only by righteous indignation at an insult offered to an innocent maiden?  Have you the courage to excuse the murders by Caracalla of his own wife, and many other noble women, by his anxiety for the safety of throne and state?  I, too, am a woman, and may hold up my head with the best; but what have I to do with the state or with the throne?  My eye met his, and from that moment the fiend was my deadly enemy.  A quick death at the hands of one of his soldiers seemed too good for the woman he hated.  Wild beasts were to tear me to pieces before his eyes.  Is that not sufficient for you?  Put every abomination together, everything unworthy of an honorable man and abhorrent to the gods, and you have the man whom you so willingly obey.  I am only the wife of a citizen.  But were I the widow of a noble Aurelian and your mother—­” Here Apollinaris, whose wounds were beginning to burn again, broke in:  “She would have counseled us to leave revenge to the gods.  He is Caesar!”

“He is a villain!” shrieked the matron—­“the curse, the shame of humanity, a damnable destroyer of peace and honor and life, such as the world has never beheld before!  To kill him would be to earn the gratitude and blessing of the universe.  And you, the scions of a noble house, you, I say, prove that there still are men among so many slaves!  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.  We can not do the work of the assassin.”

“No, lady, we can not,” added Apollinaris, and shook his wounded head energetically.

But the lady, nothing daunted, went on:  “Who has ever called Brutus a murderer?  You are young—­Life lies before you.  To plunge a sword into the heart of this monster is a deed for which you are too good.  But I know a hand that understands its work and would be ready to guide the steel.  Call it out at the right moment and be its guide!”