then a loud knock at the chamber-door. The next moment a soldier's head
appeared in the doorway, to be quickly withdrawn with the exclamation,
"It is true--here lies Apollinaris!"

"One moment," said a second deep voice, and over the threshold stepped
the legate of the legion, Quintus Flavius Nobilior, in all the panoply of
war, and saluted the brothers.

Like them, he came of an old and honorable race, and was acting in place
of the prefect Macrinus, whose office in the state prevented him from
taking the military command of that mighty corps, the praetorians.
Twenty years older than the twins, and a companion-in-arms of their
father, he had managed their rapid promotion. He was their faithful
friend and patron, and Apollinaris's misfortune had disgusted him no less
than the order in the execution of which he was now obliged to take part.
Having greeted the brothers affectionately, observed their painful
emotion, and heard their complaints over the murder of their slave, he
shook his manly head, and pointing to the blood that dripped from his
boots and greaves, "Forgive me for thus defiling your apartments," he
said. "If we came from slaughtering men upon the field of battle, it
could only do honor to the soldier; but this is the blood of defenseless
citizens, and even women's gore is mixed with it."

"I saw the body of the lady of this house," said Nemesianus, gloomily.
"She has tended my brother like a mother."

"But, on the other hand, she was imprudent enough to draw down Caesar's
displeasure upon her," interposed the Flavian, shrugging his shoulders.
"We were to bring her to him alive, but he had anything but friendly
intentions toward her; however, she spoiled his game. A wonderful woman!