Julia’s anger in the morning, when she heard that the Gaulish slave girl and the Carthaginian were missing, was great, and she hurried to her mother’s room to demand that a hue and cry should be at once made for them, and a reward offered for their apprehension.  She had, when informed of the scenes which had taken place in the night, and of the death of Sempronius, expressed great astonishment and horror, and indeed the news that her accomplice had been killed had really shocked her.  The sentiment, however, had faded to insignificance in the anger which she felt when, as the narrative continued, she heard of the escape of the two slaves.

A stormy scene took place between her and her mother, Julia boldly avowing that she was the author of the scheme which had had so fatal a termination.  Flavia, in her indignation at her daughter’s conduct, sent her away at once to a small summer retreat belonging to her in the hills, and there she was kept for some months in strict seclusion under the watchful guardianship of some old and trusted slaves.

Malchus, having seen the lion fastened up, had seized the bundle containing his disguise, and hurried away to the gate where Clotilde was awaiting him.

“How long you have been!” she said with a gasp of relief.

“I could not get away until the lion was secured,” he said, “for I should have been instantly missed.  Now we will be off at once.”  Both had thrown large dark cloaks over their garments, and they now hurried along through the deserted streets, occasionally drawing aside into bylanes as they heard the tramp of the city watch.

At last, after half an hour’s walking, they reached the wall.  Malchus knew the exact spot where he had hidden the rope, and had no difficulty in finding it.  They mounted the steps and stood on the battlements.  The sentries were far apart, for no enemy was in the neighbourhood of Rome.  Malchus fastened the rope round Clotilde, and lowered her down over the battlements.  When he found that she had reached the ground he made fast the end of the rope and slid down till he stood beside her.  They proceeded with the utmost caution until at some distance from the walls; and then shaped their course until, after a long walk, they came down upon the Tiber below the city.

Day had by this time broken, and Malchus bade Clotilde enter a little wood to change her garments and dye her skin.  He then proceeded to do the same, and rolling up the clothes he had taken off, hid them under a bush.  Clotilde soon joined him again.  She wore the dress of a peasant boy, consisting of a tunic of rough cloth reaching to her knees.  Her limbs, face, and neck were dyed a sunny brown, and her hair, which was cut quite short, was blackened.  Dyes were largely in use by Roman ladies, and Malchus had had no difficulty in procuring those necessary for their disguises.

“I don’t think anyone would suspect you, Clotilde,” he said; “even I should pass you without notice.  What a pity you have had to part with all your sunny hair!”