As Cethegus walked slowly past the rows of busts, he chanced to look at the niche destined to contain his own, and, to his astonishment, saw that it was not empty.
"What is that?" he asked. "Lift up the lamp, secretary. Whose is that bust standing in my place?"
"Forgive, master! The pedestal of that bust, one of the ancients, needed reparation. I was obliged to remove it, and I placed it in the empty niche to keep it from harm."
"Show a light. Still higher. Who can it be?"
And Cethegus read the short inscription upon the bust: "Tarquinius Superbus, tyrant of Rome, died in exile; banished from the city by the inhabitants on account of his monstrous despotism. A warning to future generations."
Cethegus, in his youth, had himself composed this inscription.
He took the bust away, and placed it on one side.
"Away with the omen!" he cried.
Lost in thought, he entered his study.
He leaned his helm, shield, and sword against the couch. The slave kindled the lamp which stood on the tortoise-shell table, brought the goblet and the roll of papyrus, and left the room.