Antonina's fine ear soon began to remark this circumstance; she listened uneasily at every pause of the procession to the cries and remarks of the by-standers.
When they had left the Thermæ of Titus behind them, and had reached the Via Sacra, near the Flavian Amphitheatre, they were obliged to stop on account of the crowd. A narrow triumphal arch had been erected here, which could only be passed at a slow pace. "Victory, to the Emperor Justinian and his general, Belisarius," was inscribed thereon.
As Antonina was reading this inscription, she heard an old man, who appeared to be but scantily initiated into the course of events, questioning his son, one of the legionaries of Cethegus.
"Then, my Gazus, the gloomy man with the angry-looking face, on the bay horse----"
"Yes, that is Belisarius, as I told you."
"Indeed? Well--then the stately hero on his left hand, with the triumphant look--he on the charger, must be his master, the Emperor Justinian."
"Not at all, father. He sits quietly in his golden palace at Byzantium and writes laws. No; that is Cethegus, our Cethegus, my Cethegus, the Prefect, who gave me my sword. Yes, that is a man! Lucius, my tribune, said lately, 'If he did not allow it, Belisarius would never see a Roman Gate from the inside.'"
Antonina gave her grey palfrey a smart stroke with her silver rod, and galloped quickly through the triumphal arch.
Cethegus accompanied the commander-in-chief and his wife to the Pincian Palace, which had been sumptuously prepared for their reception.
Then he took leave, in order to assist the Byzantine generals in quartering the troops, partly on the citizens; partly in the public buildings, and partly before the gates of the city in tents.