oes of which
diamonds were really glittering; and she and Petronius began to laugh.
But Vinicius did not give ear to their bantering. His heart was beating
unquietly under the robes of a Syrian priest, in which he had arrayed
himself to receive Lygia.

"They must have left the palace," said he, as if in a monologue.

"They must," answered Petronius. "Meanwhile I may mention the
predictions of Apollonius of Tyana, or that history of Rufinus which I
have not finished, I do not remember why."

But Vinicius cared no more for Apollonius of Tyana than for the history
of Rufinus. His mind was with Lygia; and though he felt that it was more
appropriate to receive her at home than to go in the role of a myrmidon
to the palace, he was sorry at moments that he had not gone, for the
single reason that he might have seen her sooner, and sat near her in
the dark, in the double litter.

Meanwhile slaves brought in a tripod ornamented with rams' heads, bronze
dishes with coals, on which they sprinkled bits of myrrh and nard.

"Now they are turning toward the Carinae," said Vinicius, again.

"He cannot wait; he will run to meet the litter, and is likely to miss
them!" exclaimed Chrysothemis.

Vinicius smiled without thinking, and said,--"On the contrary, I will
wait."

But he distended his nostrils and panted; seeing which, Petronius
shrugged his shoulders, and said,--"There is not in him a philosopher to
the value of one sestertium, and I shall never make a man of that son of
Mars."

"They are now in the Carinae."

In fact, they were turning toward the Carinae. The slaves called
lampadarii were in front; others called pedisequii, were on both sides
of the litter. Atacinus was right behind, overseeing the advance. But
they moved slowly, for lamps showed the way badly in a place not lighted
at all. The streets near the palace were empty; here and there only
some man moved forward with a lantern, but farther on the place was
uncommonly crowded. From almost every alley people were pushing out in
threes and fours, all without lamps, all in dark mantles. Some walked on
with the procession, mingling with the slaves; others in greater numbers
came from the opposite direction. Some staggered as if drunk. At moments
the advance grew so difficult that the lampadarii cried,--"Give way to
the noble tribune, Marcus Vinicius!"

Lygia saw those dark crowds through the curtains which were pushed
aside, and trembled with emotion. She was c