Perhaps there would be no real harm in driving straight through to Praeneste in the open daylight, but it was better not to show himself until the right time.

So it was that, halfway on the road, Phaon turned in to the tavern of the decaying little town of Gabii, gave his team to the hostler, and rested himself by fuming over the squalor and poor cooking of the inn.
II Agias secured the fast Numidian from the stables of Gallus, and was soon away.

His frequent journeys between Rome and Praeneste, in service of Cornelia and Drusus, made him a fairly expert rider, and his noble mount went pounding past the mile-stones at a steady, untiring gallop.
The young Hellene was all tingling with excitement and expectation; he would save Drusus; he would send the roses back into his beloved mistress's cheeks; and they would reward him, give him freedom; and then the future would be bright indeed.
But it grew late, fast as the horse bore him.

He felt it his duty to press on with all speed to Praeneste.

He had still a very vague notion of the final form of the conspiracy, especially of the role assigned to Phaon.