her father.

Through her Lucius had learned that Martius and Virgilia were, also,
Christians and, with his usual genius for following people, he had
gone behind them to the Christian meeting place. He knew how wicked
Alyrus was, how ill the Lady Claudia had been and for what reason.
Lidia had poured out the whole story to him.

Lucius crouched down near the temple door at the side of the huge
white building with its many columns, after he had heard the knock
Alyrus gave at the small portal, and had heard the door clang behind
the porter. No good could come from that temple and its priests. Even
though they bowed before the statue of the god and burned incense, the
Romans did not trust the priests. They regarded them as intriguers,
trying to get their hands on everything, ready to worm out secrets for
their own profit and obtain private and political power whenever
possible.

The great black cloud enveloped Rome. It belched out lightning and
thunder, the flashes revealing the groups of stately buildings in the
Forum and Caesar's palace on the Palatine Hill. The rain poured in
torrents and it hailed, the ground was white with stones, some as
large as pigeon eggs.

Still, Lucius waited, calmly. He was accustomed to all sorts of
weather and his finery could not be spoiled. He drew his bare legs up
under him, threw the skin water bag over his head and shoulders and
waited.

Neither did Alyrus trust the priests. After all, these were not his