she knew that you were prosecuting her brother, the very painter of whom
I spoke. I would you too could have heard how fervently she addressed
the god, and then Hygeia!"

"A Greek, you say?" Caracalla remarked. "And she really did not know
you, or dream that you could hear her?"

"No, my lord; assuredly not. She is a sweet maid, and if you would care
to see her--"

Caesar had listened to the tale with great attention and evident
expectancy; but suddenly his face clouded, and, heedless of the slaves
who, under the guidance of his chamberlain Adventus, had now brought in
the portrait, he sprang up, went close to Philostratus, and stormed out:

"Woe to you if you lie to me! You want to get the brother out of prison,
and then, by chance, you come across the sister who is praying for me! A
fable to cheat a child with!"

"I am speaking the truth," replied Philostratus, coolly, though the rapid
winking of Caesar's eyelids warned him that his blood was boiling with
wrath.

"It was from the sister, whom I overheard in the temple, that I learned
of her brother's peril, and I afterward saw that portrait."

Caracalla stared at the floor for a moment in silence; then he looked up,
and said, in a tone husky with agitation:

"I only long for anything which may bring me nearer to the perverse race