The man told the janitors that his name was Folces, that he belonged to the praefect of Rome and desired speech with the Augusta. He walked in very humbly, with back bent nearly double, and when he was shown into the studio where the Augusta sat alone he fell on both knees before her.
"Thy name is Folces, I am told," she began graciously, "and thou art of the household of the praefect of Rome?"
"I attend upon his person, gracious lady," replied the man.
"And thou hast brought me a message from him?" she asked, even as with this hope her heart began to beat violently in her breast.
"Not from him, gracious lady," said Folces humbly, "for the praefect of Rome is dead."
"Who told thee that he was dead?" she asked.
"Taurus Antinor named Anglicanus," replied the man simply; "he sent me my freedom this night and a message to lay at the feet of Dea Flavia Augusta."
"Give me the message," she said.
Still on his knees, Folces fumbled in the folds of his mantle and from his breast he drew a roll of parchment which he offered to the Augusta.
"Rise, Folces, and go while I read," she said; "wait outside the door till I do summon thee."