‘It depends; if I can I will,’ returned Tigellinus, going inside the door. Passing through the gardens he reached a long and lofty portico of two stories, from which two or three doors opened. Two more sentinels were on guard here, underneath the portico, but perceiving who the visitor was, they merely exchanged a few whispered words with him. Tigellinus chose one of the entrances which led him into a narrow passage, thence into a court, open to the sky, and surrounded by offices. The kitchen, in one corner, with its blazing fires, the adjacent servants’ hall, as well as other open doors, threw their stream of light into the central space, in aid of the various torches which were stuck around the walls. To and fro across this court busy slaves passed and repassed in the execution of their duties. Others, free for the time from responsibility, were assembled in the servants’ hall, full of laugh and chatter. The cooks were resting from their labours beside their fires, amid the yet uncleared disorder of their apparatus, and, together with a company of equally idle scullions and waiting slaves, were busily and pleasantly engaged in nibbling at the fragments of dainties returned from the Imperial table. These signs did not escape the keen‐witted Tigellinus, who concluded, therefrom, that the business of Caesar’s evening repast had come to an end. After scanning the faces inside the various offices he quitted the court by a short passage on the left, meeting one or two more domestics on the way, each bearing a load of table furnishments. By these he was satisfied, on inquiry, that the Emperor was at ease after his meal, and he went on into a peristyle or open hall, of magnificent proportions, surrounded by a pillared portico. With the exception of the portico it was open to the sky, and the reflection of the glittering stars danced in the waters of the fountain, which splashed in the basin in the centre of the marble floor. Around the basin was arranged a miniature flower garden, and throughout the whole of the space a soft clear light was diffused from silver lamps, which burned perfumed oils at frequent intervals around the circuit of the portico. Of the numerous doors which opened therefrom, one at the south side was guarded by the inevitable armed Pretorian. From the frequent passing in and out of stealthy‐footed slaves this would seem to be the Imperial supper‐room, but, instead of proceeding thither, Tigellinus pushed open a door within a yard of the passage by which he had entered. It was a kind of office containing only a bench and table, at which was seated a man engaged in reading, what seemed to be, a paper of accounts. Disturbed by the sound of the incomer he looked up and gave an ejaculation of surprise, ‘What, Tigellinus! At last! I have been looking for you long.’