TARZAN AND THE LOST EMPIRE
empire was naught but a few square miles of marsh, an island and swampy shore-land in the bottom of an unknown canyon, or that his subjects numbered less than fifty thousand souls—the first Augustus himself was no more a Caesar than was his namesake, Validus.
“Come,” said Validus, “I shall take you to the library myself, for that will be the scene of your labors.”
In the library, which was a vault-like room at the end of a long corridor, Validus displayed with pride several hundred parchment rolls neatly arranged upon shelves.
“Here,” said Validus, sélecting one of the rolls, “is the story of Sanguinarius and the history of our country up to the founding of Castrum Mare. Take it with you and read it at your leisure, for while you shall remain with Septimus Favonius, whom with Mallius Lepus I shal! hold responsible for you, every day you shall come to the palace and I shall dictate to you the history of my reign. Go, now, with Septimus Favonius and at this hour tomorrow attend again upon Caesar.”
When they were outside the palace of Validus Augustus, von Harben tumed to Mallius Lepus. “It is a question whether I am prisoner or guest,” he said, with a rueful smile.
“Perhaps you are both,” said Mallius Lepus, “but that you are even partially a guest is fortunate for you. Validus Augustus is vain, arrogant, and cruel. He is also suspicious, for he knows that he is not popular, and Fulvus Fupus had evidently almost succeeded in bringing your doom upon you and ruin to Favonius and myself before we arrived. What strange whim altered the mind of Caesar I do not know, but it is fortunate for you that it was altered; fortunate, too, for Septimus Favonius and Mallius Lepus.”
“But it will take years to write the history of Rome,” said von Harben.
“And if you refuse to write it you will be dead many more years than it would take to accomplish the task,” retorted Mallius Lepus, with a grin.
“Castrum Mare is not an unpleasant place in which to live,” said Septimus Favonius.
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