15 II Terrible News “Come in…,” Titus mumbled in his sleep. The knocking grew louder, and Titus tossed about, annoyed that no one had entered. He opened his eyes and realized that the knocking wasn’t in his dream but was coming from the front door of the villa. He shook his head, sat up on one elbow, and strained his ear. He could hear the sound of men talking in the entry hall. Titus recognized his father’s voice. The boy glanced at the Persian blinds. There was hardly any light filtering through. What time could it be? He had no idea. But he sensed it was pretty late. Titus had slept badly because of the storm. Gripped by a deep sense of foreboding, he had tossed and turned in his bed for ages before managing to fall asleep. He had never liked the wind. For him, it was always the harbinger of bad news. The last time the wind had blown like that in Rome, the next day he had learned that his grandmother had died. As soon as he saw his master was at last awake, Dux jumped onto his blanket. The little monkey was in a playful mood. He pulled on Titus’ brown curls to hurry him out of bed. “Dux, leave me alone! I’m sleepy!” But Dux refused to obey. He went on tugging at his master’s hair.
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