“We will see,” growled Keraunus, “I or the dog!”

“I am afraid it will be the dog then.”

“And Rome will see a fresh revolt,” cried Keraunus, rolling his eyes.  “You took Egypt from the Ptolemies.”

“And with very good reason—­besides that is a stale old story.”

“Justice is never stale, like a bad debt.”

“At any rate it perishes with persons it concerns; there have been no Lagides left here—­how many years?”

“So you believe, because it suits your ends to believe it,” replied the steward.  “In the man who stands before you flows the blood of the Macedonian rulers of this country.  My eldest son bears the name of Ptolemaeus Helios—­that borne by the last of the Lagides, who perished as you pretend.”

“Dear, good, blind Helios!” interrupted the black slave; for he was accustomed to avail himself of the hapless child’s name as a protection, when Keraunus was in a doubtful humor.

“Then the last descendant of the Ptolemies is blind!” laughed the Emperor.  “Rome may ignore his claims.  But I will inform the Emperor how dangerous a pretender this roof yet harbors.”

“Denounce me, accuse me, calumniate me!” cried the steward, contemptuously.  “But I will not let myself be trodden on.  Patience—­ patience! you will live to know me yet.”

“And you, the blood-hound,” replied Hadrian, “if you do not this instant quit the room with your mouthing crow—­”

Keraunus signed to his slave and without greeting his foe in any way, turned his back upon him.  He paused for a moment at the door of the room and cried out to Hadrian: 

“Rely upon this, I shall complain to the Council and write to Caesar how you presume to behave to a Macedonian citizen.”

As soon as the steward had quitted the room, Hadrian freed the dog, which flew raging at the door which was closed between him and the object of his aversion.  Hadrian ordered him to be quiet, and then turning to his companion, he exclaimed: 

“A perfect monster of a man! to the last degree ridiculous, and at the same time repulsive.  How his rage seethed in him, and yet could not break out fairly and thoroughly.  I am always on my guard with such obstinate fools.  Pay attention to my Argus, and remember, we are in Egypt, the land of poison, as Homer long since said.  Mastor must keep his eyes open—­Here he is at last.”

ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: 

Have lived to feel such profound contempt for the world
In order to find himself for once in good company—­(Solitude)
Never speaks a word too much or too little
They keep an account in their heart and not in their head

*** End of the project gutenberg EBOOK the Emperor, by Georg Ebers, V3 ***

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