guide him. He must choose, the while the gods looked on and laughed!

Maternus. It was a strange name to adopt, and yet he liked the sound of
it, nor would it pass out of his mind. He tried to think of other
names, but either they had all been borne by slaves, and were
distasteful, or else by famous men or by his friends, whom he did not
propose to wrong; he only had to imagine his case reversed to realize
how bitterly he would resent it if an outlawed man should take his own
name and make it notorious.

Yet he perceived that notoriety would be his only refuge, paradox though
that might be. As a mere fugitive, anonymous and having no more object
than to live and avoid recognition, he would soon reach the end of his
tether; there was little mercy in the world for men without a home or
means. Whether recognized or not, he would become like a hunted animal
--might, in fact, end as a slave unless he should prefer to prove his
identity and submit to Commodus's executioners. Suicide would be
preferable to that; but it seemed almost as if the gods themselves had
vetoed self-destruction by providing that roisterer's corpse at the
critical moment and putting the plan for its use into Galen's wise old
head.

He must take the field like Spartacus of old; but he must have a goal
more definite and more attainable than Spartacus had had. He must avoid
the mistake that weakened Spartacus, of accepting for the sake of
numbers any ally who might offer himself. He would have nothing
whatever to do with the rabble of runaway slaves, whose only guiding
impulse would be loot and license, although he knew how easy it would be
to raise such an army if he should choose to do it. Out of any hundred
outlaws in the records of a hundred years, some ninety-nine had come to