"
So presently the gates were opened as Titus had commanded, and they went
forth, attended only by a guard of two men, walking unnoted through the
streets to the palace in the Via Agrippa.
"There is the door," said the sergeant of the guard, pointing to the
side entrance of the house. "Enter with your friend and, noble Marcus,
fare you well."
So they went to the archway, and finding the door ajar, passed through
and shut it behind them.
"For a house where there is much to steal this is ill guarded, son. In
Rome an open gate ought to have a watchman," said Cyril as he groped his
way through the darkness of the arch.
"My steward Stephanus should be at hand, for the jailer advised him of
my coming--who never thought to come," began Marcus, then of a sudden
stumbled heavily and was silent.
"What is it?" asked Cyril.
"By the feel one who is drunken--or dead. Some beggar, perhaps, who
sleeps off his liquor here."
By now Cyril was through the archway and in the little courtyard beyond.
"A light burns in that window," he said. "Come, you know the path, guide
me to it. We can return to this sleeper."
"Who seems hard to wake," added Marcus, as he led the way across the
courtyard to the door of the offices.
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