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'It is not in disrespect to Jupiter, Your Majesty. Many generations of
our people have said their prayers to Jupiter, and My King is not jealous of
that homage. He has compassion upon every man's longing to abide under the
shadow of some sheltering wing. Jesus did not come into the world to denounce
that aspiration, but to invite all who love truth and mercy to listen to his
voice--and walk in his way.'

Diana was so proud--so very proud of Marcellus! Really--it wasn't
Marcellus who was on trial! Everybody in the great room was on trial--all but
Marcellus! Caligula was storming--but he had no case! Oh, she thought, what an
Emperor Marcellus would have made! She wanted to shout, 'Senators! Give
Marcellus the crown! Let him make our Empire great!'

The stirring music from the plaza was growing in volume. The shouts of
the multitude were strident, impatient. It was time for the procession to
start.

'Tribune Marcellus Gallio,' said Caligula, sternly, 'it is not our wish
to condemn you to death in the presence of your aged father and the honourable
men who, with him, serve the Empire in the Senate. Deliberate well, therefore,
when you reply to this final question: Do you now recant, and forever renounce,
your misguided allegiance to this Galilean Jew--who called himself a King?'

Again a portentous hush fell over the banquet-hall. Salome was observed
to glance up with an arch smile and a little shrug, as she picked up the
Emperor's emerald bracelet and clasped it on her arm.

'Your Majesty,' replied Marcellus, 'if the Empire desires peace and
justice and good will among all men, my King will be on the side of the Empire
and her Emperor. If the Empire and the Emperor desire to pursue the slavery and
slaughter that has brought agony and terror and despair to the
world'--Marcellus's voice had risen to a clarion tone--'if there is then nothing
further for men to hope for but chains and hunger at the hands of our
Empire--my King will march forward to right this wrong! Not tomorrow, sire!
Your Majesty may not be so fortunate as to witness the establishment of this
Kingdom. But it will surely come!'

'And that is your final word?' asked Caligula.

'Yes, Your Majesty,' said Marcellus.

Caligula drew himself up erectly.

'Tribune Marcellus Gallio,' he announced, 'it is our decree that you be
taken immediately to the Palace Archery Field and put to death--for high
treason.'

Even while the sentence was being passed, a fresh sensation stirred the
audience. Diana had left her place at the Emperor's table and was walking
proudly, confidently, down the steps of the dais, to take her stand beside
Marcellus. He slipped his arm about her, tenderly.

'No, darling, no!' he entreated, as if no one heard. 'Listen to me, my
sweetheart! You mustn't do this! I am willing to die--but there is no reason
why you should risk your life! Bid me farewell--and leave me!'

Diana smiled into his eyes, and faced the Emperor. When she spoke, her
voice was uncommonly deep, for a girl, but clearly audible to the silent
spectators of this strange drama.

'Your Majesty,' she said, calmly, 'I, too, am a Christian. Marcellus is
my husband. May I go with him?'

There was an inarticulate murmur of protest through the banquet-hall.
Caligula nervously fumbled with his fingers and shook his head.

'The daughter of Gallus is brave,' he said, patronizingly. 'But we have
no charge against her. Nor have we any wish to punish her. You love your
husband, but your love will do him no good--when he is dead.'

'It will, sire, if I go with him,' persisted Diana, 'for then we will
never part. And we will live together--always--in a Kingdom of love--and peace.'

'In a Kingdom, eh?' chuckled Caligula, bitterly. 'So you too believe in
this nonsense about a Kingdom. Well'--he added with a negligent gesture--'you
may stand aside. You are not being tried. There is no indictment.'

'If it please Your Majesty,' said Diana, boldly, 'may I then provide
evidence to warrant a conviction? I have no wish to live another hour in an
Empire so far along on the road to ruin that it would consent to be governed by
one who has no interest in the welfare of his people.'

There was a spontaneous gasp from the audience. Caligula, stunned to
speechlessness, listened with his mouth open.

'I think I speak the thoughts of everyone present, sire,' went on Diana,
firmly. 'These wise men all know that the Empire is headed for destruction--and
they know why! As for me, I have another King--and I desire to go with my
husband--into that Kingdom!'

Little Boots's face was livid.

'By the gods, you shall!' he screamed. 'Go--both of you--into your
Kingdom!'

He gestured violently to the Commander of the Guards. There was an order
barked. A bugle sounded a strident blast. The drums rattled a prolonged roll.
The tall soldiers, marking time, waited the crisp command. The word was given.
Marcellus and Diana, hand in hand, marched in the hollow square, as it moved
down the broad aisle toward the imposing archway. Old Gallio, trembling, pushed
forward through the crowd, but was detained by friendly hands and warning
murmurs.

As the procession of guards, and the condemned, disappeared through the
great marble arch, the audience was startled by the harsh, drunken laughter of
Little Boots.

Amid loud, hysterical guffaws, he shrieked, 'They are going into a
better Kingdoom! Ha! ha! They are going now to meet their King!'

But nobody, except Little Boots, thought it was an occasion for derisive
laughter. There was not a smile on any face. All stood, grim and silent. And
when Little Boots observed that his merriment was not shared, he suddenly grew
surly, and without a dismissing word, stumbled toward the steps of the dais,
where Quintus took his arm. Outside, the metallic music blared for Jupiter.

Hand in hand, Diana and Marcellus kept step with the Guards. Both were
pale, but smiling. With measured tread the procession marched briskly the
length of the corridor, and down the marble steps into the congested plaza. The
massed multitude, not knowing what was afoot, but assuming that this was the
first contingent of the notables who would join the gaudy parade to the Temple
of Jupiter, raised a mighty shout.

Old Marcipor strode forward from the edge of the crowd, tears streaming
down his face. Marcellus whispered something into Diana's ear. She smiled, and
nodded.

Slipping between two of the guards, she tossed the Robe into the old
man's arms.

'For the Big Fisherman!' she said.

 

THE END

End of this Project Gutenberg of
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The Robe by Lloyd C Douglas

 

BOOK: THE ROBE
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