mental battle went on all day; and the prick
of conscience, the fears of superstition, and the lingerings of
religion ever grew fainter. Near nightfall he was at his post, at the
Temple of Saturn. Pratinas was awaiting him. The Greek had only a few
words of greeting, and the curt injunction:--"Draw your cloak up to
shield your face, and follow me." Then they passed out from the Forum,
forced their way through the crowded streets, and soon were through
the _Porta Ratumena,_ outside the walls, and struck out across the
Campus Martius, upon the Via Flaminia. It was rapidly darkening. The
houses grew fewer and fewer. At a little distance the dim structures
of the Portico and Theatre of Pompeius could be seen, looming up to an
exaggerated size in the evening haze. A grey fog was drifting up from
the Tiber, and out of a rift in a heavy cloud-bank a beam of the
imprisoned moon was struggling. Along the road were peasants with
their carts and asses hastening home. Over on the Pincian Mount the
dark green masses of the splendid gardens of Pompeius and of Lucullus
were just visible. The air was filled with the croak of frogs and the
chirp of crickets, and from the river came the creak of the sculls and
paddles of a cumbrous barge that was working its way down the Tiber.

Ahenobarbus felt awed and uncomfortable. Pratinas, with his mantle
wrapped tightly around his head, continued at a rapid pace. Lucius had
left his attendants at home, and now began to recall gruesome tales of
highwaymen and bandits frequenting this region after dark. His fears
were not allayed by noticing that underneath his himation Pratinas
occasionally let the hilt of a short sword peep forth. Still the Greek
kept on, never turning to glance at a filthy, half-clad beggar, who
whined after them for an alms, and who did not so much as throw a kiss
after the young Roman when the latter tossed forth a denarius,[60] but
snatched up the coin, muttered at its being no more, and vanished into
the gathering gloom.

[60] Four sesterces, 16 cents.

"Where are you leading me?" asked Ahenobarbus, a second time, after
all his efforts to communicate with the usually fluent Greek met with
only monosyllables.

"To the _lanista_[61] Dumnorix," replied Pratinas, quickening an
already rapid pace.

[61] Keeper of a school of gladiators.

"And his barracks are--?"

"By the river, near the Mulvian bridge."

At length a pile of low square buildings was barely visible i