A long beard fell from cheeks and chin on to his hairy
breast. There was nothing attractive about his appearance, it was
thoroughly animal.
"I am not afraid," he replied, with such dignity that Alyrus stared at
him. "When my time comes, I can die, trusting to a God whom thou
knowest not, Alyrus, the Moor, doorkeeper in the house of Aurelius
Lucanus."
"Thou knowest me, then?"
"I know thee well." His manner became cringing and servile. "I did but
wait here a moment to rest, and fell asleep. I will go on my way."
Alyrus nodded and walked on, going first to the shoemaker's, a tiny
shop where a man worked all day and slept at night. Having
accomplished this business, and saved himself from having left a lying
message for the lawyer, the porter went on his way to the Forum, where
all was still now, for the business of the day was over. A few men
were passing, but they paid no attention to the Moor.
It was quite dark, heavy clouds from the west were encircling rapidly
toward Rome and the wind had increased to a gale. There were sharp
flashes of copper-blue lightning and a roar of thunder like booming
cannon, echoing against the Alban and Salbine Hills encircling the
city.
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