Chapter 3 - Page 2

no."

"Let me try." She flung it to the oaken beams and it fell on the great
rug beside her.

"Madame, the hand is up," said Vergilius. "I fear it is not
infallible."

"Let me see," she answered, stooping gravely to survey the coin.
Something passed between her and her pleasure, and for one second a
shadow wavered across her face.

"It is Death's hand, of course," she remarked, sadly. "Love is for the
young and death is for the old."

"Old, madame! Why, your cheeks have roses in them."

"Good youth, you are too frank," said she, with a quick glance about
her. "Did the coin say that she loved you?"

"It did."

"And what did she say?"

The young man hesitated.

"Come, you innocent! Of course, I knew that you would talk of nothing
but love. What said she?"

"That she does not love me; but I am sure it is mere coquetry."

"Dear youth! You have a cunning eye. This very day speak, my brave
Vergilius--speak to her brother Appius. To-night take him to dine with
you."

"I had so planned."

A gong of silver rang in the palace halls. It was the signal to
prepare for dinner, and the guests made their farewells. Soon Appius
and the young lover walked side by side in the direction of the
Palatine.

"And what have you been doing?" the former inquired, presently.

"Only dreaming."

"Of what?"

"Of love and happiness, and your sister."

"My sister?"

"Yes; I love her and wish to make her my wife."

"You have wealth and birth and wit and good prospects. I can see no
objection to you. But love--love is a thing for women to talk about."

"You are wrong, Appius. I can feel it in my soul. And, believe me, I
am no longer in Rome. I have found the gateway of a better world--like
that heaven they speak of in the Trastevere--full of peace and beauty."

"You have, indeed, been dreaming," said the other. "But, Vergilius,
there is one higher than I who shall choose her husband--the imperator.
Does he know you?"

"I have met him, of course, but do much fear he would not remember me."

"We may know shortly. Every seventh day this year he has sat, like a
beggar, at his gate asking for alms. To-day we shall see him there."

"It is an odd whim."

"Hush! you know the people as well as I, and he must please them," the
other whispered. "He must conceal his power if he would live out his
time. I will