"Soldiers, follow me!"
He was about to rush in, disperse the triumphant mob, overset the
shrine, and scatter the bones of the saint, but a firm hand seized the
bridle of his horse--
"Out of the way!" cried Julian furiously, lifting his sword.
Next moment his arm fell. Before him stood the stern, calm face of
Sallustius Secundus, who had just arrived from Antioch.
"Cæsar, do not strike the unarmed! Be yourself!"
Julian put back his sword in the scabbard.
His helmet scorched his head; he tore it off and flung it to earth,
wiping away great drops of sweat. Alone and bareheaded he advanced
towards the crowd, signing them to halt.
"Inhabitants of Antioch," he said almost calmly, restraining himself
by a supreme effort, "know that the rioters, and setters on fire of
the Temple of Apollo, will be punished without mercy. You scorn my
pity? We shall see how you will scorn my anger. The Roman Augustus
could blot your town from the earth, so that men should forget that
Antioch the great ever existed. But I go forth to war against the
Persians. If the gods grant that I return in triumph, woe be to you,
rioters! Woe to thee, Nazarene, the carpenter's son!"
And he stretched out his sword above the heads of the crowd.