In a side street the praetor met the tailor he had knocked down, the sausage-maker, and other ringleaders of the attack on the Israelite’s house. They were being led away prisoners before the night magistrates. Verus would have set them at liberty with all his heart, but he knew that the Emperor would enquire next morning what had been done to the rioters, and so he forbore. At any other time he would certainly have sent them home unpunished, but just now he was dominated by a wish that was more dominant than his good nature or his facile impulses.
CHAPTER VII.
When he reached the Caesareum the high-chamberlain was waiting to conduct him to Sabina who desired to speak with him notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, and when Verus entered the presence of his patroness, he found her in the greatest excitement. She was not reclining as usual on her pillows but was pacing her room with strides of very unfeminine length.
“It is well that you have come!” she exclaimed to the praetor. “Lentulus insists that he has seen Mastor the slave, and Balbilla declares—but it is impossible!”
“You think that Caesar is here?” asked Verus.
“Did they tell you so too?”
“No. I do not linger to talk when you require my presence and there is something important to be told just now then—but you must not be alarmed.”
“No useless speeches!”
“Just now I met, in his own person—”