One of his keenest discomforts was horror at close contact with dirt. All his life he had taken peculiar care to keep his body healthy and exquisitely groomed. It was with profound melancholy that he gazed at his uncut nails, and the purple of his travelling chlamys, befouled by dust and muddy roads. Scuda never quitted his side for an instant, and Gallus, not without reason, dreaded his assiduous companion. The tribune, years ago, had come as bearer of a despatch from the Emperor, and was but newly arrived in Antioch, when by an impudent remark he had offended Constantia, the wife of Gallus, who straightway in a fit of fury had ordered the Roman tribune to be flogged and afterwards thrown, like a slave, into a dungeon. Foreseeing the probable consequence, Constantia had quickly ordered the tribune to be set at liberty. He then presented himself at the palace of Gallus, as if nothing had occurred, and, pocketing the affront, had never even reported it to his master; perhaps through fear that so degrading a punishment might besmirch the prospects of his career as a courtier. During the whole journey from Antioch to Milan Scuda retained his seat in Cæsar's chariot, never quitting him, inviting his confidences, and treating him like some wayward child, who, being out of sorts, was not to be left to himself for a moment by a servant so devoted and affectionate. Where, as in Illyria, there were dangerous river crossings to be made on frail wooden bridges, Scuda would put his arm around Gallus with the tenderest solicitude, and if the latter strove to free himself, swear that he preferred death to the risk of drowning his precious charge. The tribune wore an oddly thoughtful expression, especially when contemplating the neck of Gallus, smooth and white as a young girl's. The Cæsar, feeling this attentive look, would fidget uneasily in his seat, and with difficulty restrain himself from striking the amiable tribune in the face. But the poor prisoner's spirits quickly rose again. He contented himself with imploring (for despite everything his appetite remained healthy), that they might halt for a meal, were it never so scanty. At Petovio, in Norica, they were met by two fresh envoys from the Emperor, accompanied by a cohort of Court legionaries. The mask was then dropped. Round the palace where Gallus slept armed sentinels were placed as round a prison. In the evening the prefect Barbatio, making his way in, without any pretence at ceremony, ordered him to take off the chlamys of a Cæsar and don the simple tunic and paludamentum, or ordinary cloak, of a common soldier. On the following morning the prisoner was ordered to get into a karpenta, a little two-wheeled cart without a hood employed by minor officials on official journeys. A cold wind was blowing intermittently. Scuda according to his custom put one arm round Gallus, and with the disengaged hand gently fingered the new garment.