By Grace of Julius Caesar Page #2

is a historical novel by Lucy Maud Montgomery that intertwines themes of love, ambition, and the complexities of human relationships. Set against the backdrop of both ancient Rome and the tumultuous politics of the time, the story follows the lives of characters navigating societal expectations and personal desires. Through rich descriptions and emotional depth, Montgomery explores the influence of fate and the indomitable spirit of her characters, showcasing her signature storytelling style that combines realism with a touch of the poetic. The novel highlights the timeless struggle for individual identity amid the grand narratives of history.

• Short story

								

comes out and takes that brute away? What else can we do?"

"What if he isn't at home?" I suggested.

"We'll stay here till he comes home. Oh, this is a nice predicament.
This is what comes of cushioning churches!"

"It might be worse," I said comfortingly. "Suppose the roof hadn't
been flat?"

"Call Isaac," said Melissa shortly.

I didn't fancy calling Isaac, but call him I did, and when that failed
to bring him Melissa condescended to call, too; but scream as we
might, no Isaac appeared, and that dog sat there and smiled
internally.

"It's no use," said Melissa sulkily at last. "Isaac Appleby is dead or
away."

Half an hour passed; it seemed as long as a day. The sun just boiled
down on that roof and we were nearly melted. We were dreadfully
thirsty, and the heat made our heads ache, and I could see my muslin
dress fading before my very eyes. As for the roses on my best hat--but
that was too harrowing to think about.

Then we saw a welcome sight--Isaac Appleby coming through the yard
with a hoe over his shoulder. He had probably been working in his
field at the back of the house. I never thought I should have been so
glad to see him.

"Isaac, oh, Isaac!" I called joyfully, leaning over as far as I dared.

Isaac looked up in amazement at me and Melissa craning our necks over
the edge of the roof. Then he saw the dog and took in the situation.
The creature actually grinned.

"Won't you call off your dog and let us get down, Isaac?" I said
pleadingly.

Isaac stood and reflected for a moment or two. Then he came slowly
forward and, before we realized what he was going to do, he took that
ladder down and laid it on the ground.

"Isaac Appleby, what do you mean?" demanded Melissa wrathfully.

Isaac folded his arms and looked up. It would be hard to say which
face was the more determined, his or the dog's. But Isaac had the
advantage in point of looks, I will say that for him.

"I mean that you two women will stay up on that roof until one of you
agrees to marry me," said Isaac solemnly.

I gasped.

"Isaac Appleby, you can't be in earnest?" I cried incredulously. "You
couldn't be so mean?"

"I am in earnest. I want a wife, and I am going to have one. You two
will stay up there, and Julius Caesar here will watch you until one of
you makes up her mind to take me. You can settle it between
yourselves, and let me know when you have come to a decision."

And with that Isaac walked jauntily into his new house.

"The man can't mean it!" said Melissa. "He is trying to play a joke on
us."

"He does mean it," I said gloomily. "An Appleby never says anything he
doesn't mean. He will keep us here until one of us consents to marry
him."

"It won't be me, then," said Melissa in a calm sort of rage. "I won't
marry him if I have to sit on this roof for the rest of my life. You
can take him. It's really you he wants, anyway; he asked you first."

I always knew that rankled with Melissa.

I thought the situation over before I said anything more. We certainly
couldn't get off that roof, and if we could, there was Julius Caesar.
The place was out of sight of every other house in Jersey Cove, and
nobody might come near it for a week. To be sure, when Melissa and I
didn't turn up the Covites might get out and search for us; but that
wouldn't be for two or three days anyhow.

Melissa had turned her back on me and was sitting with her elbows
propped up on her knees, looking gloomily out to sea. I was afraid I
couldn't coax her into marrying Isaac. As for me, I hadn't any real
objection to marrying him, after all, for if he was short of romance
he was good-natured and has a fat bank account; but I hated to be
driven into it that way.

"You'd better take him, Melissa," I said entreatingly. "I've had one
husband and that is enough."

"More than enough for me, thank you," said Melissa sarcastically.

"Isaac is a fine man and has a lovely house; and you aren't sure the
Kingsbridge man really means anything," I went on.

"I would rather," said Melissa, with the same awful calmness, "jump
down from this roof and break my neck, or be devoured piecemeal by
that fiend down there than marry Isaac Appleby."

It didn't seem worth while to say anything more after that. We sat
there in stony silence and the time dragged by. I was hot, hungry,
thirsty, cross; and besides, I felt that I was in a ridiculous
position, which was worse than all the rest. We could see Isaac
sitting in the shade of one of his apple trees in the front orchard
comfortably reading a newspaper. I think if he hadn't aggravated me by
doing that I'd have given in sooner. But as it was, I was determined
to be as stubborn as everybody else. We were four obstinate
creatures--Isaac and Melissa and Julius Caesar and I.

At four o'clock Isaac got up and went into the house; in a few minutes
he came out again with a basket in one hand and a ball of cord in the
other.

"I don't intend to starve you, of course, ladies," he said politely,
"I will throw this ball up to you and you can then draw up the
basket."

I caught the ball, for Melissa never turned her head. I would have
preferred to be scornful, too, and reject the food altogether; but I
was so dreadfully thirsty that I put my pride in my pocket and hauled
the basket up. Besides, I thought it might enable us to hold out until
some loophole of escape presented itself.

Isaac went back into the house and I unpacked the basket. There was a
bottle of milk, some bread and butter, and a pie. Melissa wouldn't
take a morsel of the food, but she was so thirsty she had to take a
drink of milk.

She tried to lift her veil--and something caught; Melissa gave it a
savage twitch, and off came veil and hat--and all her front hair!

You never saw such a sight. I'd always suspected Melissa wore a false
front, but I'd never had any proof before.

Melissa pinned on her hair again and put on her hat and drank the
milk, all without a word; but she was purple. I felt sorry for her.

And I felt sorry for Isaac when I tried to eat that bread. It was sour
and dreadful. As for the pie, it was hopeless. I tasted it, and then
threw it down to Julius Caesar. Julius Caesar, not being over
particular, ate it up. I thought perhaps it would kill him, for
anything might come of eating such a concoction. That pie was a strong
argument for Isaac. I thought a man who had to live on such cookery
did indeed need a wife and might be pardoned for taking desperate
measures to get one. I was dreadfully tired of broiling on the roof
anyhow.

But it was the thunderstorm that decided me. When I saw it coming up,
black and quick, from the northwest, I gave in at once. I had endured
a good deal and was prepared to endure more; but I had paid ten
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