He gave one backward thought to those days
when hundreds of horsemen acknowledged him chief, and date-palms waved
their feathery arms over his tent; he remembered that he was a slave,
bought with a price, and his master had struck him. And he remembered
Sahira and her tears.
"Because Martius, son of Aurelius, is a Christian," he replied, and in
his heart was a fearsome glee.
He was walking up the broad steps, now, while the priest, laying a
detaining hand on his arm, said: "I see that thou art a man to be
trusted. I am interested in these Christians. I would hear more. Come
to me tomorrow, at the Temple, after sundown. There is a little back
entrance in the alleyway. Ask for Lycidon, the priest of Jupiter, and
show the porter this symbol. It will admit thee."
The priest was gone, and Alyrus, half-dazed, stood under the arch
between two tall columns and gazed down at the bronze lizard he held
in his hand. The lizard leered at him, he thought.
Just at that moment a cry was heard, which drove the crowds of people
aside.
"Way! Way for the noble Lady, Octavia, widow of Aureus Cantus, Senator
of the Roman Empire.
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