CHAPTER 11
The dark was lifting as Vergilius entered the Field of Mars. There
were lanterns about his litter, and far and near, in lines and
clusters, he could see lights on the plain, some moving, some standing
still. Hard by the Tiber he joined a small troop of horse, and
vaulting on the shaft of his lance, mounted a white charger. Manius
wheeled into place beside him at the head of the column. A quaestor
called the roll.
"Ready?" Vergilius inquired, turning to Manius.
"All ready," the other answered.
Then a trumpet sounded and those many feet had begun the long journey
to Jerusalem. They made their way to the Forum. Scores of women and
children of the families of those departing had gathered by the golden
mile-stone. The troop halted. Those who had been waiting in the dank,
chill air sought to press in among the horses. It was hard to keep
them back. Vergilius, full of his own sorrow, felt for them and gave
them good time. A little group, in gray paenula and veils, were
watching from without the crowd.
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