Claudia saw, however, that the bodyguard did not march off with the Prefect’s procession; instead, he peered about furtively, cast a hurried glance toward her doorway, and then merged into the traffic pushing along the narrow, cobbled way. Momentarily she lost him but in the next instant discovered him idling in front of a shop diagonally across from her entrance. But not for long did he study the wares of the merchant; she saw that he had faced about and was staring intently at her own doorway.

“I thought so,” she observed to Tullia, who had retreated into the shadowed narrow corridor as Sejanus was leaving. “The Prefect left one of his bodyguards to watch the house. He either wishes to know where I’ll be going or who will be coming here, perhaps both. I don’t know what he is scheming, Tullia”—the maid had come forward and secured the doors—“but whatever it is, I don’t like it. Longinus may endanger himself by coming. We must warn him. But how, Tullia? He is likely to be arriving any moment; he must have been delayed at Castra Praetoria, or he would have been here already.”

Quickly she told the maid the startling news the Prefect had brought.

“Anyone who leaves this house through these doors, Mistress, then is sure to be followed. But I could go out through the servant’s entrance on some contrived mission and perhaps be able to warn him.”

“Good, Tullia. You can be taking something to Senator Piso’s house and carry a message to Longinus. Talk with him if he is there and tell him what has happened, but say that I’ll arrange to meet him later, perhaps at the house of Herodias.”

“Or maybe, Mistress, at the shop of Stephanos.”

“Yes. Maybe the goldsmith’s would be better. But if the Prefect’s men should follow and ask you questions, Tullia, what will you say?”

“I could be bearing a small gift to Philo, Senator Piso’s old Greek slave who tutored his children. He’s quite ill and....”

“Wonderful! Tullia, you are indeed my treasure. Take the old man a jar of that honey from Samos; he would like that. And some wheat cakes and a bottle of the Falernian.” She was silent a moment, thoughtful. “By the Bountiful Mother! Tullia, I’ll help you get away by leading that soldier myself on a false chase. Fetch me my cloak and scarf. I’ll pretend to be disguising myself in order to slip away. Then he’ll follow me. Now find the things to take to old Philo, and get yourself ready. And do hurry.”

In a few minutes Tullia returned with the cloak and scarf. “The basket of food is ready,” she said. She helped her mistress put on the cloak and tie the scarf so that much of her face was concealed. “Leave the door ajar as I go out,” Claudia instructed her, “and when you see the soldier following me, close the door and slip away yourself through the servants’ entrance. And return the same way, as quickly as you can.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“And, Tullia, say to Longinus that I instructed you to tell him that what has happened changes nothing, that as far as I am concerned everything is just as it was with him and me. But say as little as you can to anyone else, Tullia, and nothing concerning the Prefect’s visit.”

Claudia walked to the entrance doors and turned to face her maid again. “You go out and look around furtively as though you were seeing that the way was clear for me. That will likely warn the guardsman that something is afoot, that we suspect someone may be watching the house. Then I’ll go out, and because I will not have my bearers summoned, he’ll surmise that I am trying to leave unnoticed.”

Then she puckered her rouged lips into a thoughtful bud. “But why is old Sejanus having us watched? Did he think that I would slip out to tell Longinus? Does he want me to tell the centurion and perhaps deliberately prejudice him against Pilate?” She shook her head slowly. “But how can he know about Longinus and me?”

“Perhaps, Mistress, he only suspects,” Tullia answered. “It may be that he is trying to find out just what your relationship is.”

“Maybe so. But little he’ll discover now, by the gods!” She opened the door and peered out. “Now.”

Tullia slipped through the doorway, looked up and down the narrow street, then stepped back into the atrium.

“Now I’ll go,” Claudia said. “Be careful, Tullia. And do guard your tongue.” Outside she readjusted her scarf and pulled her cloak more closely about her. Then she stepped into the cobble-stoned way and walked rapidly along it.

Tullia, peeping through the slit in the doorway, saw the Prefect’s man emerge from the shadows of a shop entrance and move off quickly to follow her. When the two had disappeared around the turn, Tullia closed the doors and hurriedly recrossed the atrium. A moment later she slipped out through the servants’ entrance. A freshly starched napkin covered the food in the basket she carried.