Meantime Theodorite was praising Julian's predecessor for his Christian benevolence, pure life, and love for all his family.
Anatolius felt choked by the crowd. He went out of the church, and once quit of the smell of incense and oil, drew a deep breath of fresh air under the blue sky.
Outside the church portico a loud conversation was going on undisturbed. A grave rumour was circulating in the crowd; the two she-bears were being led through the streets to the amphitheatre. Those who heard the news precipitately left the church before the end of the sermon, asking each other anxiously—
"Are we still in time? Is Mica Aurea ill?"
"No, it's Innocentia who had a fit of indigestion to-day. But now she's going on quite well."
"Thank God ... thank God!"
The church quickly emptied. Anatolius saw panting multitudes running in the direction of the circus from every street, from every alley, from every basilica. They crushed each other, trampled on women and children, hurled abuse, lost their sandals, but halted for nothing in the race. Every face wore a careworn expression denoting that life depended on getting a seat in the amphitheatre. Two names full of sanguinary promise passed from lip to lip—
"Mica Aurea! Innocentia!"
Anatolius followed the crowd into the amphitheatre.
According to the Roman custom a vast awning, the velarium, sprinkled with perfume, protected the people against the rays of the sun, and spread a pleasant coolness. Thousands of heads already swarmed round the circus.