The night was clear and warm. Before the Circus were moving throngs of people, curious to witness the departure of Cæsar; but in some way they were gloomy and silent. Here and there applause was heard, but it ceased quickly. From the spoliarium creaking carts bore away the bloody remnants of Christians.
Petronius and Vinicius passed over their road in silence. Only when near his villa did Petronius inquire,—
“Hast thou thought of what I told thee?” “I have,” answered Vinicius.
“Dost believe that for me too this is a question of the highest importance? I must liberate her in spite of Cæsar and Tigellinus. This is a kind of battle in which I have undertaken to conquer, a kind of play in which I wish to win, even at the cost of my life. This day has confirmed me still more in my plan.”
“May Christ reward thee.”
“Thou wilt see.”
Thus conversing, they stopped at the door of the villa and descended from the litter. At that moment a dark figure approached them, and asked,—
“Is the noble Vinicius here?”
“He is,” answered the tribune. “What is thy wish?”
“I am Nazarius, the son of Miriam. I come from the prison, and bring tidings of Lygia.”