warm surcoat, the night breeze blew coldly into the room, and he
shivered. Was it the spirit of the slain Tarautas which had floated in
at the open window? The cold breath which fanned his cheek was certainly
no mere draught. It was exactly like a human sigh, only it was cold
instead of warm. If it proceeded from the ghost of the dead gladiator he
must be quite close to him. And the fancy gained reality in his mind; he
saw a floating human form which beckoned him and softly laid a cold hand
on his shoulder.

He, Caesar, had linked his fate to that of the gladiator, and now
Tarautas had come to warn him. But Caracalla had no mind to follow him;
he forbade the apparition with a loud cry of "Away!" At this the Indian
started, and though he could scarcely utter the words, he besought Caesar
to be seated that he might take off his laced shoes; and then Caracalla
perceived that it was an illusion that had terrified him, and he shrugged
his shoulders, somewhat ashamed. While the slave was busy he wiped his
damp brow, saying to himself with a proud smile that of course spirits
never appeared in broad light and when others were present.

At last he dismissed the Indian and lay down. His head was burning, and
his heart beat too violently for sleep. At his bidding Epagathos and
Adventus followed the Indian into the adjoining room after extinguishing
the lamp. . . Caracalla was alone in the dark. Awaiting sleep, he
stretched himself at full length, but he remained as wide awake as by
day. And still he could not help thinking of the immediate past. Even
his enemies could not deny that it was his duty as a man and an emperor
to inflict the severest punishment on this town, and to make it feel his
avenging hand; and yet he was beginning to be aware of the ruthlessness
of his commands. He would have been glad to talk it all over with some
one else. But Philostratus, the only man who understood him, was out of