remains that I have been kept on duty constantly at the Porta Praetoria since I was transferred there from the Colosseum. I have not even been permitted to return to my home, the reason given being that Caesar expects an uprising of the barbarians of the outer villages, which, as we all know, is utterly ridiculous.
'I risked everything to leave my post only an hour ago and that because of a word of gossip that was passed to me by a young officer, who came to relieve another at the gate.'
'What said he?' demanded Praeclarus.
'He said that an officer of the palace guard had told him that he had been ordered to come to your cell tonight and assassinate both you and this white barbarian. I hastened to Festivitas and together we found the keys that I promised to bring you, but even as I slunk through the shadows of the city's streets, endeavoring to reach the Colosseum unobserved or unrecognized, I feared that I might be too late, for Caesar's orders are that you are to be dispatched at once. Here are the keys, Praeclarus. If I may do more, command me.'
'No, my friend,' replied Praeclarus, 'you have already risked more than enough. Go at once. Return to your post lest Caesar learn and destroy you.'
'Farewell then and good luck,' said Applosus. 'If you would leave the city, remember that Appius Applosus commands the Porta Praetoria.'
'I shall not forget, my friend,' replied Praeclarus, 'but I shall not impose further risks upon your friendship.'
Appius Applosus turned to leave the cell, but he stopped suddenly at the gate. 'It is too late,' he whispered. 'Look!'
The faint gleams of distant torch-light were cutting the gloom of the corridor.
'They come!' whispered Praeclarus. 'Make haste!' but instead Appius Applosus stepped quickly to one side of the doorway, out of sight of the corridor beyond, and drew his Spanish sword.
Rapidly the torch swung down the corridor. The scraping of sandals on stone could be distinctly heard, and the ape-man knew that whoever came was alone. A man wrapped in a long dark cloak halted before the barred door and, holding his torch above his head, peered within.
'Maximus Praeclarus!' he whispered. 'Are you within?'
'Yes,' replied Praeclarus.
'Good!' exclaimed the other. 'I was not sure that this was the right cell.'
'What is your errand?' demanded Praeclarus.
'I come from Caesar,' said the other. 'He sends a note.'
'A sharp one?' inquired Praeclarus.
'Sharp and pointed,' laughed the officer.
'We are expecting you.'
'You knew?' demanded the other.
'We guessed, for we know Caesar.'
'Then make your peace with your gods,' said the officer, drawing his sword and pushing the door open, 'for you are about to die.'
There was a cold smile upon his lips as he stepped across the threshold, for Caesar knew his men and had chosen well the proper type for this deed—a creature without conscience whose envy and jealousy Praeclarus had aroused, and the smile was still upon his lips as the sword of Appius Applosus crashed through his helmet to his brain. As the man lunged forward dead, the torch fell from his left hand und was extinguished upon the floor.
'Now go,' whispered Praeclarus to Applosus, 'and maybe the gratitude of those you have saved prove a guard against disaster.'
'It could not have turned out better,' whispered Applosus. 'You have the keys; you have his weapons, and now you have ample time to make your escape before the truth is learned. Good-by, again. Good-by, and may the gods protect you.'
As Applosus moved cautiously along the dark corridor, Maximus Praeclarus fitted keys to their manacles and both men stood erect, freed at last from their hated chains. No need to formulate plans—they had talked and talked of nothing else for weeks, changing them only to meet altered conditions. Now their first concern was to find Hasta and Metellus and the others upon whose loyalty they could depend and to gather around them as many of the other prisoners as might be willing to follow them in the daring adventure they contemplated.
Through the darkness of the corridor they crept from cell to cell and in the few that still held prisoners they found none unwilling to pledge his loyalty to any cause or to any leader that might offer freedom. Lukedi, Mpingu, and Ogonyo were among those they liberated. They had almost given up hope of finding the others when they came upon Metellus and Hasta in a cell close to the entrance to the arena. With them were a number of professional gladiators, who should have been liberated with the other victors at the end of the games, but who were being kept because of Mime whim of Caesar that they could not understand and that only inflamed them to anger against the Emperor.
To a man they pledged themselves to follow wherever Tarzan might lead.
'Few of us will come through alive,' said the ape-man, when they had all gathered in the large room that was reserved for the contestants before they were ushered into the arena, 'but those who do will have been avenged upon Caesar for the wrongs that he has done them.'
'The others will be welcomed by the gods as heroes worthy of every favor,' added Praeclarus.
'We do not care whether your cause be right or wrong, or whether we live or die,' said a gladiator, 'so long as there is good fighting.'
'There will be good fighting. I can promise you that,' said Tarzan, 'and plenty of it.'
'Then lead on,' said the gladiator.
'But first I must liberate the rest of my friends,' said the ape-man.
'We have emptied every cell,' said Praeclarus. 'There are no more.'
'Oh, yes, my friend,' said Tarzan. 'There are still others—the great apes.'
Chapter Eighteen
IN the dungeons of Validus Augustus in Castrum Mare, Erich von Harben and Mallius Lepus awaited the triumph of Validus Augustus and the opening of the games upon the morrow.
'We have nothing to expect but death,' said Lepus, gloomily. 'Our friends are in disfavor, or in prison, or in exile. The jealousy of Validus Augustus against his nephew, Cassius Hasta, has been invoked against us by Fulvus Fupus to serve his own aims.'
'And the fault is mine,' said von Harben. 'Do not reproach yourself,' replied his friend. 'That Favonia gave you her love cannot be held against you. It is only the jealous and scheming mind of Fupus that is to blame.'
'My love has brought sorrow to Favonia and disaster to her friends,' said von Harben, 'and here am I, chained to a stone wall, unable to strike a blow in her defense or theirs.'
'Ah, if Cassius Hasta were but here!' exclaimed Lepus. 'There is a man. With Fupus adopted by Caesar, the whole city would arise against Validus Augustus if Cassius Hasta were but here to lead us.'
And as they conversed sadly and hopelessly in the dungeons of Castrum Mare, noble guests gathered in the throne-room of Sublatus in the city of Castra Sanguinarius , at the opposite end of the valley. There were senators in rich robes and high officers of the court and of the army, resplendent in jewels and embroidered linen, who, with their wives and their daughters, formed a gorgeous, and glittering company in the pillared chamber, for Fastus, the son of Caesar, was to wed the daughter of Dion Splendidus that evening.
In the avenue, beyond the palace gates, a great crowd had assembled—a multitude of people pushing and surging to and fro, but pressing ever upon the gates up to the very pikes of the legionaries. It was a noisy crowd— noisy with a deep-throated roar of anger.
'Down with the tyrant!'
'Death to Sublatus!'
'Death to Fastus!' was the burden of their hymn of hate.
The menacing notes filled the palace, reaching to the throne-room, but the haughty patricians pretended not to hear the voice of the cattle. Why should they fear? Had not Sublatus distributed donations to all the troops that
