ow. This story so excited Basil that he
would have hastened forthwith across the Tiber, had not Felix persuaded
him that at this late hour nothing could be done. After a sleepless
night he set out at sunrise, accompanied by Felix alone. Whether he
would be admitted at Petronilla's door was quite uncertain; in any
case, it would serve no purpose to go thither with a band of
attendants, for the Anician house was sure to be strongly guarded. All
he could do was to present himself in the hope of seeing Petronilla,
and take his chance of learning something from her when they stood face
to face.

On horseback he went down by the Clivus Scauri, followed the road
between the Circus Maximus and the Aventine, crossed the river by the
Aemilian bridge (the nearer bridge of Probus was falling into ruins),
and then turned to the left. This part of the transtiberine district
was inhabited by poor folk. Something unusual seemed to have happened
among them just now: groups stood about in eager talk, and a little
further on, in front of a church, a noisy crowd was assembled, with
soldiers among them. Having made inquiry, Felix explained the
disturbance to his master. It was due to the rapacity of the Greek
commander, who, scorning no gain, however small, was seizing upon the
funds of the trade guilds; this morning the common chest of the potters
had been pillaged, not without resistance, which resulted in the death
of a soldier; the slayer had fled to St. Cecilia's church, and taken
sanctuary. Basil's feeling, as he listened, was one of renewed
bitterness against the Greeks; but to the potters themselves he gave
little thought, such folk and their wrongs appearing of small moment to
one of his birth.

Pursuing the road towards the Portuensian Gate, he was soon in sight of
the palace where for generations had dwelt the heads of the Anician
family. It lay on a gentle slope above the river, at the foot of the
Janiculan Hill; around it spread public porticoes, much decayed, and
what had once been ornamental gardens, now the pasture of goats. As
Basil had expected, he was kept waiting without the doors until the
porter had received orders regarding him. Permitted at length to enter,
he passed by a number of slaves who stood, as if on guard, in the
atrium, and, though seeming to be alone in the room beyond, he heard
subdued voices from behind the curtains of the doorways, which told him
that he was under observation. All parts of this great