Dark though it still was, all Rome was astir.
On every side shone torches, from every house and street rose the murmur of voices, for the mighty city made herself ready to celebrate the greatest festival which her inhabitants had seen.

Even now at times the press was so dense that the soldiers were obliged to force a way through the crowd, which poured outwards to find good places along the line of the Triumph, or to take up their station on stands of timber, and in houses they had hired, whose roofs, balconies and windows commanded the path of the pageant.
They crossed the Tiber.

This Miriam knew by the roar of the water beneath, and because the crush upon the narrow bridge was so great.
Thence she was borne along through country comparatively open, to the gateways of some large building, where she was ordered to dismount from the litter.

Here officers were waiting who took charge of her, giving to Gallus a written receipt for her person.

Then, either because he would not trust himself to bid her farewell, or because he did not think it wise to do so in the presence of the officers, Gallus turned and left her without a word.
"Come on, girl," said a man, but a secretary, looking up from his tablets, called to him: "Gently there with that lot, or you will hear about it.