It was the etiquette to go as far as was possible to meet an Imperial messenger, just as a host receives a very distinguished guest on his door-step, and the Count, after hastily exchanging his hunting-dress for a toga, went to the little pier at which the galley would land its passenger. He had not to wait many minutes before it arrived, and a handsome young man, with a short military cloak over his traveller’s dress, leapt lightly ashore. The Count saluted. The stranger, who was for a time the representative of the Emperor, received the greeting with the dignified gesture of a superior. “Do I address Lucius Ælius, Count of the Saxon Shore?” he asked. “I am he,” the Count briefly replied. “I bring the commands of Augustus,” said the messenger, producing from a pocket in his tunic a vellum roll, bound with a broad purple cord, and bearing the Imperial seal. The Count received the missive with a profound inclination, and put it to his lips. At the same time the messenger uncovered, and changed his haughty demeanour for the behaviour usual to a young officer in the presence of his superior. “It will be more respectful and more convenient to read his Majesty’s gracious communication in private. Will you please come with me to my house?” He led the way to the villa, and introduced the visitor into the little room which he used for the transaction of business. He then cut with his dagger the purple cord which fastened the package containing the despatch, and, after again putting the document to his lips, proceeded to read it. Its contents were seemingly not agreeable, for his face darkened as he went on. He made no remark, however, beyond simply asking the messenger— “May I presume that you have a general acquaintance with the contents of this document?” “I have,” replied the young man. “Then you will know that the answer is not one which can be given in a moment. But,” and he went on with a rapid change of voice and manner, “_cras seria_.(54) I was just on the point of going out for a few hours’ hunting when your arrival was announced. Will you come with me? I have nothing very great to show you, though we have some big game here too, if we had time to look for it, but if you will condescend to anything so small as hare-hunting, I can show you some sport.” The Imperial messenger was an Italian of the north of the Peninsula, who had been fond of following the chase on the slopes of the Apennines before chance had made him a courtier. He accepted the invitation with pleasure, and the party made the best of their way to the high ground now known as Arreton Downs.