“What do I care? the road is for every one.” “Certainly--for all alike. Let those who want to go on, get out and walk if the crowd is too great; it is only a hundred steps to the chariots.” “Aye, get out!” cried a chorus. “We have as good a right to be here as our betters. Get out! Get out!” The mob closed upon them threateningly from both sides; Quintus Claudius turned pale. If he could not succeed in scaring off the people, and if this irresponsible populace insisted on having their own way, all must be lost. The lame foot of the pretended seaman must inevitably attract the attention and rouse the suspicion of a rabble, whose heads were full of the notice and description before them--discovery was inevitable. With a leap Quintus Claudius was standing on his feet, and went forward with calm dignity to face the tumult. “What do you want?” he asked sternly. “Why do you dare to stop the public way?” His cool self-possession worked wonders--their noisy audacity was quelled. “Make way,” continued Claudius, while a faint flush rose to his brow. “I, Quintus Claudius, the friend of Caesar, command you.” “Not Caesar himself would let our ribs be battered,” shrieked a croaking voice. But the excuse came too late. Whether it was Caesar’s name, or the imposing and attractive presence of the young patrician, who stood unapproachable as an avenging Apollo, looking calmly on the tumult of his antagonists--the crowd parted with a dull murmur, and the road was free. Quintus and Aurelius had some difficulty in dissembling their joy. “Stupid creatures!” said Lucilia. “What queer fancies men take.” Cornelia smiled with an expression of supreme contempt. Nothing should have induced her to walk, she said, and she would have liked to see any one try to make her. They safely reached the spot on the road to Ostia, where the chariots awaited them. Here again they found an excited crowd. Driving inside the city walls was prohibited by day, and they here found not only the carriages of the wealthier citizens, but vehicles for hire in numbers, from the lightest chariots to the heaviest conveyances for travelling or pleasure parties. The drivers noisily and vehemently offered their services to the passers-by, while sellers of eatables and cooling drinks carried their baskets round with monotonous cries, and eating and drinking went on in the arbors by the roadside. Laughter and song, scolding and cursing were audible in a variety of tones. The party of excursionists got into a large four-wheeled chariot[367] belonging to Caius Aurelius. The fugitive was helped by Blepyrus and Magus into a two-wheeled vehicle, known as a cisium,[368] which stood somewhat apart loaded with provisions,[369] but which had room on its back-seat not only for Eurymachus, but for his two faithful assistants. “He insisted on it,” said the Batavian to Lucilia; “the worthy man was anxious not to intrude on our party.”