"Longinus."
"Well," replied Paulus, "if I survive the struggle with this creature, I mean to join the expedition of Germanicus Cæsar, and I will have my eye upon you. I should like to be your informant that you were promoted to a higher rank, and to call you the Centurion Longinus."
Tears were standing in the Roman decurion's eyes as he bowed to take leave.
Thellus and Paulus, being now left again alone, resumed their walk up and down the laurel alley.
"I am not so conversant with horses," observed Thellus, "as I could for your sake at present wish to be. But all animals, I notice, are more quiet when blinded."
At this moment the branches of a cross-walk rustled, and a stately figure in the Greek læna (χλαῖνα) approached them.
"Are you not Æmilius, the nephew of the triumvir?" asked the stranger.
"Yes," replied Paulus.
"Who is this?" continued the new-comer, looking at Thellus. "I have something to say which may concern your safety."
"You may trust this brave man," said Paulus; "it is my friend Thellus."