a furious blow from Caracalla's fist sent his enfeebled enemy staggering
back against the wall near the window.

Mad with rage, Caracalla shrieked hoarsely

"To the beasts with him! No, not to the beasts--to the torture! He and
his sister! The punishment I have bethought me of--scum of the earth--"

But the wild despair of the other, in whose breast hatred and fever
burned with equal strength, now reached the highest pitch. Like a hunted
deer which stays its flight for a moment to find an outlet or to turn
upon his pursuers, he gazed wildly round him, and before the emperor
could finish his threat; leaning against the pillar of the window as if
prepared to receive his death-blow, he interrupted Caracalla:

"If your dull wit can invent no death to satisfy your cruelty, the blood-
hound Zminis can aid you. You are a worthy couple. Curses on you!....

"At him!" yelled the emperor to Macrinus and the legate, for no
substitute had appeared for the centurion he had dismissed.

But while the nobles advanced warily upon the madman, and Macrinus called
to the Germanic body-guard in the anteroom, Philip had turned like
lightning and disappeared through the window.

The legates and Caesar came too late to hold him back, and from below
came cries of: "Crushed!--dead! . . What crime has he committed? .
They cast him down! . . . He can not have done it himself . . .
Impossible! . . . His arms are bound. . . A new manner of death
invented specially for the Alexandrians!"