Chilo, hidden behind the angle of the corner house, was waiting for what
would happen, since curiosity was struggling with fear in him. He
thought that if they succeeded in carrying off Lygia, he would fare well
near Vinicius. He feared Urban no longer, for he also felt certain that
Croton would kill him. And he calculated that in case a gathering
should begin on the streets, which so far were empty,--if Christians, or
people of any kind, should offer resistance,--he, Chilo, would speak to
them as one representing authority, as an executor of Cæsar's will, and
if need came, call the guards to aid the young patrician against the
street rabble--thus winning to himself fresh favor. In his soul he
judged yet that the young tribune's method was unwise; considering,
however, Croton's terrible strength, he admitted that it might succeed,
and thought, "If it go hard with him, Vinicius can carry the girl, and
Croton clear the way." Delay grew wearisome, however; the silence of
the entrance which he watched alarmed him.

"If they do not hit upon her hiding-place, and make an uproar, they will
frighten her."

But this thought was not disagreeable; for Chilo understood that in that
event he would be necessary again to Vinicius, and could squeeze afresh
a goodly number of sestertia from the tribune.

"Whatever they do," said he to himself, "they will work for me, though
no one divines that. O gods! O gods! only permit me-"

And he stopped suddenly, for it seemed to him that some one was bending
forward through the entrance; then, squeezing up to the wall, he began
to look, holding the breath in his breast.