"The revered Timotheus withdraws his countenance from us to-day. Yet it
was to his god that I dedicated the work of vengeance. He laments the
loss of worshipers to great Serapis, as you, Vertinus"--and he turned to
the idiologos--"regret the slain tax-payers. Well, you are thinking of
my loss or gain, and that I can not but praise. Your colleague in the
service of Serapis has nothing to care for but the honor of his god; but
he does not succeed in rising to the occasion. Poor wretch! I will
give him a lesson. Here Epagathos, and you, Claudius--go at once to
Timotheus; carry him this sword. I devote it to his god. It is to be
preserved in his holy of holies, in memory of the greatest act of
vengeance ever known. If Timotheus should refuse the gift--But no,
he has sense--he knows me!"

He paused, and turned to look at Macrinus, who had risen to speak to some
officials and soldiers who had entered the room. They brought the news
that the Parthian envoys had broken off all negotiations, and had left
the city in the afternoon. They would enter into no alliance, and were
prepared to meet the Roman army.

Macrinus repeated this to Caesar with a shrug of his shoulders, but he
withheld the remark added by the venerable elder of the ambassadors, that
they did not fear a foe who by so vile a deed had incurred the wrath of
the gods.

"Then it is war with the Parthians!" cried Caracalla, and his eyes
flashed. "My breast-plated favorites will rejoice."

But then he looked grave, and inquired: "They are leaving the town, you
say? But are they birds? The gates and harbor are closed."