The Unwilling Vestal (2024)

EDWARD LUCAS WHITE

First published by E.P. Dutton, New York, 1918

This e-book edition: Roy Glashan's Library, 2020
Version Date: 2020-06-02
Produced by Roy Glashan

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

AUTHOR'S PREFACE

THE title of this romance is likely to prejudiceany reader against it. There exists a popular delusion thatfiction with a classical setting is bound to be dull andlumbering, that it is impossible for it to possess that qualityof bravura slangily denominated "punch." Anybody will bedisabused of that notion upon reading this story.

On the other hand, after having read it, almost any one willbe likely to imagine that a novel with so startling a heroine andwith incidents so bizarre cannot possibly be based on any soundand genuine knowledge of its background; that the author hasconjured out of his fantasy not only his plot and chiefcharacters, but also their world; that he has created out and outnot merely his Vestal, but his Vestals, their circ*mstances andthe life which they are represented as leading: that he hasmanufactured his local color to suit as he went along.

Nothing could be further from the actuality. The details ofrule and ritual, of dress and duties, of privileges andpunishments are set forth in accordance with a full first-handand intimate acquaintance with all available evidence touchingthe Vestals; including all known inscriptions relating to them,every passage in Roman or Greek literature in any way concerningthem, the inferences drawn from all existing or recordedsculptures and coins which add to our knowledge of them, andevery treatise written since the revival of learning in Europe inwhich the Vestals are discussed. The story contains nopreposterous anachronisms or fatuous absurdities. Throughout, iteither embodies the known facts or is invented in conformity withthe known facts.

Any one to whom chapter twenty-one seems incredible shouldconsult an adequate encyclopedia article or an authoritativetreatise on physics and read up on the surface tension ofliquids.

BOOK I. — THE RAGE OFDISAPPOINTMENT

I. — PRECOCITY

"BRINNARIA!" he said severely, "you will marryany man I designate."

"I never shall marry any man," she retorted positively,"except the man I want to marry."

She gazed unflinchingly into her father's imperious eyes,wide-set on either side of a formidable Roman nose. His returngaze was less incensed than puzzled. All his life he had beenhabituated to subserviency, had never met opposition, and to findit from his youngest daughter, and she a mere child, amazed him.As she faced him she appeared both resolute and tremulous. Helooked her up and down from the bright blue velvety leather ofher little shoes on which the gilt sole-edges and gilt lacesglittered to the red flower in her brown hair. Inside herclinging red robe the soft outlines of her young shape swelledplump and healthy, yet altogether she seemed to him but a fragilecreature. Resistance from her was incredible.

Perhaps this was one more of her countless whims. While heconsidered her meditatively he did not move his mighty arms orlegs; the broad crimson stripe down his tunic rose and fellslowly above his ample paunch and vaster chest as his breath cameevenly; on his short bull neck his great bullet head was asmoveless as if he had been one of the painted statues that linedthe walls all about. As the two regarded each other they couldhear the faint splash of the fountain in the tank midway of thecourtyard.

Her father, a true Roman to his marrow, with all a Roman'sarbitrary instincts, reverted to the direct attack.

"You will marry Pulfennius Calvaster," he commanded.

"I will not!" she declared.

He temporized.

"Why not?" he queried.

The obstinacy faded from Brinnaria's handsome, regular face.She looked merely reflective

"In the first place," she said, "because I despise him andhate him worse than any young man I ever knew; I would not marryCalvaster if he were the only man left alive. In the secondplace, because, if all the men on earth were courting me at once,all rich and all fascinating and Caius were poor and anything andeverything else that he isn't, I'd marry nobody ever exceptCaius. You hear me, Father. Caius Segontius Almo is the only,only man I'll ever marry. Nothing can shake my resolution,never."

She was breathing eagerly, her cheeks flushed a warm redthrough her olive complexion, her eyes shining till tiny speckssparkled green and yellow in the wide brown of her bigirises.

Her father's jaw set.

"I've listened to you, daughter," he said. "Now you listen tome. I have no objections to Almo; I rather like him. I havethought of marrying you to him; if Segontius and I had notquarreled, we might have arranged it. There is no possibility ofit now. And just now, for some reason or other, Pulfennius iskeen on arranging a marriage between you and Calvaster. Hisoffers are too tempting to be rejected and the chance is to goodto be missed. Our properties adjoin not only here and at Baiae,but also at Praeneste, at Grumentum and at Ceneta. With ourestates so marvellously paired the marriage seems divinelyordained when one comes to think it over. Don't be a fool.Anyhow, if you insist on making trouble for yourself, it will doyou no good. My mind is made up. You are to marry Calvaster."

"I won't!" Brinnaria maintained

Her father smiled, a menacing smile

"Perhaps not," he said, "but there will be only onealternative. Unless you agree to obey me I shall go at once tothe Pontifex and offer you for a Vestal."

Every trace of apprehension vanished from Brinnaria'sexpression. She grinned saucily, almost impudently, at herfather, and snapped her fingers in his face.

"You can't scare me that way, Daddy!" she mocked him. "I knowbetter than that. There can be only six Vestals. You can offer,if you like, but the Emperors themselves can't take me for aVestal while the six are alive."

The laugh muffled in her throat; she was fairly daunted. Neverhad she seen her father's face so dark, so threatening. Not inall her life had he so much as spoken harshly to her; she hadbeen his pet since she had begun to remember. But now, for onetwinkling, she feared a blow from him. She almost shrank backfrom him.

He did not move and he spoke softly.

"Rabulla died this morning before dawn," was all he said.

Instantly Brinnaria. was fluttering with panic.

"You aren't in earnest, Daddy!" she protested. "You can't bein earnest. You're only fooling; you're only trying to frightenme. You don't really mean it; oh, please, Daddy, say you don'treally mean it!"

"I really mean it," her father answered heavily. "I nevermeant anything more genuinely in my life. You know my influencewith the Emperors and with the Pontifex of Vesta. You know thatif I made the proposal they would disregard any rivalpetitioners, would override all unnecessary formalities, wouldhave the matter despatched at once. Unless you obey me you willbe a Vestal before sunset to-morrow."

Brinnaria was now fairly quivering with terror.

"Oh, Daddy!" she quivered, "you couldn't be so cruel. I'drather die than have to be a Vestal. I couldn't imagine any lifeso terrible. Oh, Daddy, please say you are not in earnest."

He frowned.

"I swear," he said, "that I was never more in earnest. I sayit solemnly, as sure as my name is Marcus Brinnarius Epulo, I'llhave you made a Vestal unless you agree this moment to give upall thoughts of Almo, to obey me about marrying Calvaster, and tobe properly polite to him and Pulfennius."

"Daddy!" Brinnaria cried. "Only don't have me made a Vestaland I'll do anything. I'll forget there ever was an Almo. I'll besweet as honey to Pulfennius till he loves me better thanSecunda, and I'll marry Calvaster; I'll marry anybody. Why,Daddy, I'd marry a boar pig rather than be a Vestal."

Her father smiled.

"I thought my little daughter would behave properly," hesoothed her, "and you are just in time. That may be your futurehusband and father-in-law coming now."

In fact they were in a moment ushered in. Pulfennius was atall man, lean and loose-jointed, with straggling, greenish-grayhair; a long, uneven head, broad at the skull and narrow at thechin; puffy, white bags of flabby flesh under his eyes; irregularyellow teeth and sagging cheeks that made his face look squarish.Calvaster was a mere boy, with a leaden complexion, shifty grayeyes, thin lips, and an expression at once sly and conceited.

"You come opportunely," said their host after the greetingshad been exchanged, "for you happen to find me alone with thevery daughter of whom you and I were talking. This isBrinnaria."

"This!" Pulfennius exclaimed. "This the girl we were talkingabout? Impossible! Incredible! There must be some mistake."

"There is no mistake," his host assured him. "This is the girlwe were talking about, this is Brinnaria."

The visitor regarded her, respectfully standing now, her browneyes down-cast, the flush faded from her olive-skinned cheeks,her arms hanging limply at her sides. She was tall for a girl andwhile slenderly built was well muscled, a fine handsome figure inher red robe.

"This!" he exclaimed again. "Indeed. So this is Brinnaria. Iam very glad to have seen her. And now having seen her, do younot think that our business would be better transacted by usthree males together?"

"Certainly, if you prefer," Brinnarius asserted.

He patted Brinnaria and kissed her.

"Run away now, little girl," he said, "and wait in theperistyle until I want you."

Brinnaria, once in the rear courtyard, instantly called:

"Guntello!"

Her call was answered by a great brute of a slave, bigger eventhan her father, a gigantic Goth, pink-skinned, blue-eyed andyellow-haired.

"Now listen to me, Guntello," his little mistress said, "forif you make any mistake about my errand you'll get me into no endof trouble."

The Goth, manifestly devoted to her, leaned his ear close andgrinned amiably. She repeated her directions twice and made himrepeat them after her in his broken Latin. When she was sure thathe understood, she despatched him with a whisperedinjunction:

"Hurry! Hurry!"

Meanwhile, in the gorgeous atrium, the fathers' conference hadcontinued. The moment she had gone Pulfennius said:

"I do not believe in discussing misunderstandings beforefemales; evidently there is some misunderstanding here. I wantfor my son a bride younger than he is, even if he has to wait twoor even four years to claim her. You assured me that yourdaughter Brinnaria was not yet ten years of age and you show me agrown woman and tell me that she is Brinnaria. What is theexplanation?"

"A very simple explanation," he was answered. "Merely thatBrinnaria is unusually well grown and well developed for her age.I have seen other cases of early ripening in children and so mustyou."

"I've seen girls grown beyond their years," Pulfenniusadmitted, "but no case comparable to this. Why, man, that girlwho has just left us would be taken for over eighteen years oldby any stranger at first sight of her, and no one on earth couldlook at her carefully and hazard the conjecture that she mightpossibly be under sixteen."

"Quite so," his host agreed, "and the better you knowBrinnaria the more you wonder at her. She not only looks sixteenor eighteen and acts as if she were that age, but she talks as ifshe were that old and thinks as if she were even older, and sheis actually three full months, more than three months, to beprecise three months and twelve days, under ten years ofa*ge."

"Amazing!" spluttered Pulfennius, "astounding!inexplicable!"

"Don't you believe me?" Brinnarius queried sharply.

"Certainly I believe you," his guest disclaimed, "but I cannotrealize that it can be true; I am bewildered; I am dazed."

"Perhaps," the other suggested, "you would realize it betterif Quartilla added her assurances to mine."

"Oh," the other deprecated, "I do not require anybody'scorroboration to your statement. But if her mother is at home,perhaps her presence would be as well for other reasons."

When summoned his host's wife appeared as a medium-sizedwoman, neither plump nor slender, with a complexion neither brownnor white, with yellow-brown hair, gray-brown eyes, and in everyoutline, hue, and feature as neutral and inconspicuous a creatureas could be conceived of.

"Yes," Quartilla said, "everybody is surprised at Brinnaria'sgrowth. I was scared, when she first began to grow so fast, andhad special prayers offered and sacrifices made at the temples ofYouth and Health. Also I had a Babylonian seer consult the starsconcerning her birth-signs. Everybody said she was born to longlife, good health and great luck. But I can't fancy what evermade her grow so. She was fed like her brothers and sisters andshe never seems to eat any heartier or any oftener. Till she wastwo and a half she was just like any other child. But she hasgrown more in seven years than any other child I ever knew ofever grew in fourteen and she's so old for her years too. Not butthat she plays with dolls and toys and jacks; and she runs aboutjust like any other child of her age, in spite of her size; butshe says such grown-up things and she has such a womanly mind.She understands the family accounts better than I do, is keen oneconomy and could oversee the providing for the entire household.She astonishes me over and over. But there is no doubt about herage. Both my sisters were with me when she was born andNemestronia too. Ask any of the three. Or I can tell you a dozenother ladies who know just as well. Brinnaria will not be tenyears old until the Ides of September."

"Wonderful! marvellous!" Pulfennius exclaimed. "Madam, youamaze me. But if this is true so much the better. I had thoughtmy boy must wait two years or more for a wife, as I am determinedthat no more of my sons shall marry wives of their own age, letalone older. If your daughter is so young, she will just suit me,and since she is already grown up we shall not have to wait forher to grow up. We can arrange for the wedding for thismonth."

They chaffered a long time about the marriagesettlement,Calvaster sitting silent, biting his lips, staringabout him and fidgetting; Quartilla equally silent, but entirelyplacid, without the twitch of a muscle or any shift of gaze; thetwo men doing all the talking. Some of the talking was almostvehement, Pulfennius disclaiming promises which his host declaredhe had made. Once they came to a deadlock and then Brinnarius,his voice suddenly mild and soft, mentioned Rabulla's death andhis notion of offering Brinnaria for her successor. At oncePulfennius became manageable and supple and all eagerness for thehappiness of the young couple.

When it seemed that they had reached an agreement on everypoint Quartilla had her say.

"I think you will find Brinnaria everything you could wish asa daughter-in-law. The most uncanny thing about her precocioushabits of thought is her tenacity of any resolve and her graveand earnest attitude towards all questions of duty and propriety.She takes clan traditions very seriously and is determined tocomport herself according to ancestral precedents. You will haveno fault to find with her respectfulness towards you and Herraniaor with her behavior as a wife. She will be circ*mspect in herdeportment towards all men and is sure to turn out an excellenthousewife. She has lofty inherited standards to live up to andshe is deeply devoted to them.

"This is the more to be wondered at since she is strangelyundignified in many ways. I trust this will wear off as she growsup. It is only in this respect that Brinnaria has ever given meany cause for concern. She is more like a boy than a girl in manyways. She not only plays with boys and plays boys' games andplays them as well as boys or better, not only climbs trees whenshe is in the country, and rides bareback and goes fishing andswimming in any stream or pool, and ranges the woods and cannotbe restrained; but also she will indulge in the wildest pranks,the most unthinkable freaks, play rough practical jokes onanybody and everybody, laugh out loud, shout and yell,gesticulate and contort herself into undignified postures and actgenerally in an uproarious and uncurbed fashion. She keeps upthat sort of thing even in town, and is boisterous and unexpectedbeyond anything I ever heard of in any young girl She is mostdocile in all really important things, but in respect to herjokings and shriekings and carryings-on she is really beyond mycontrol. She is never openly disobedient, yet she is mostingenious at devising methods for avoiding obedience. Sometimes Ilose patience with Brinnaria. But, when I really think it allover, there is no harm in any of it. Strangers, however, wouldthink her a very terrible girl; she belies herself so. Any onebecoming cognizant of some of her vagaries would form a veryunfavorable judgment of her and most unjustly. In her heart sheis anything but the wild creature she makes herself appear. Hersquawks of merriment, her rude interruptions of her elders, herpert remarks, her sarcastic jokes, are all the manifestations ofmere overflowing animal spirits, of warm-blooded youth and heartyhealth. She will tone down. She is the most startling andincalculable child I ever heard of. No one could anticipate hereccentricities. There is an originality of invention about herpranks which amazes me. But I am sure she will turn out all thatI could wish."

"I trust so, indeed," said Pulfennius dryly. "I am grateful toyou for warning me; I promise not to misjudge her because of anychildish freakishness. And now it seems to me that we should makethe young lady herself a party of this conference and bring thematter to a final settlement."

Brinnarius called a slave and bade him fetch Brinnaria.

Almost at once the fellow, a dark-skinned, obsequious Lydian,returned looking scared and yet on the verge of laughter. Hecould barely control his merriment, yet was plainly afraid toutter what he had to say. His master ordered him to speak.

"Instead of coming with me," he said, "the young lady sent amessage. But I am afraid to give it to you. I am afraid of athrashing if I give the message as she gave it to me."

"Another of her jokes," her father growled. "You shan't sufferfor any of her impudence. Repeat her exact words; I'll hold youexcused, Dastor."

Dastor, reassured, grinned with anticipated enjoyment andsaid:

"She says she is sitting down and very comfortable where sheis, that she will not stand up till she feels inclined, and thatif you want to see her you can come to her, for she will not cometo you."

For a moment there was a tense silence.

Pulfennius spoke first.

"If this is a sample of the sort of deportment which my futuredaughter-in-law is expected to outgrow I might as well be shownjust what this kind of behavior is like. Let us acquiesce and goto the little witch, if you do not object."

"I don't object at all to going," his host replied, "but Iobject to her behavior; I'll make her smart for it. Come, let ushave it over with; I'll show you a submissive Brinnaria or I'llknow the reason why."

They stood up and from the open atrium passed into a narrowpassage lighted only from the two ends and so into the largercourtyard with gleaming marble columns at each end and long rowsof them down each side. The tank under the open sky was muchlarger than that in the atrium and had two fountains in it.Pigeons cooed on the tiles of the roofs, and two or three of themstrutted on the mosaic pavement among the columns.

The party, dumbfounded and stunned, stood without voice ormovement, gazing at the picture before them.

The pavement was a cool grayish white in effect, for itsmosaic work was all of pale neutral tints. Above it thebackground was all white—white marble walls, the whitemarble polished pillars of the peristyle, white marbleentablature above them, the general whiteness emphasized by themere streak of red tiled roof visible against the intense blue ofthe sky.

The only color in the picture was to the left of the tank andclose to it, where there had been set a big armchair upholsteredin blue tapestry. In it sat a tall, fair-haired, curly-headedlad, with merry blue eyes. He wore a robe of pale green, thegreen of young onion tops. Against that green the red ofBrinnaria's gown showed strident and glary, for Brinnaria wassitting on his lap. His arms were round her waist, hers about hisneck. She was slowly swinging her blue-shod feet rhythmically andwas kissing the lad audibly and repeatedly. As her elders stoodstill, petrified, mute and motionless with amazement, sheimprinted a loud smack on the lad's lips, laid her cheekroguishly to his and peered archly at them, saying:

"Glad to see you again, Pulfennius; what do you think of mefor a daughter-in-law?"

"I do not think of you for a daughter-in-law," Pulfenniussnarled furiously.

He turned angrily to Brinnarius.

"What does this mean?" he queried.

His host echoed him.

"Brinnaria!" he called, imperatively. "What does thismean?"

"Mean?" she repeated. "It means that I am making the most ofAlmo while I can. I love Almo; I've promised to forget him, to bea good wife to Calvaster, and of course I'm going to keep myword. From the moment I'm married to Calvaster I'll never so muchas look at Almo, let alone touch him. So I'm touching him all Ican while I have the chance."

She paused, kissed Almo twice, lingeringly and loudly, andlooked up again.

"How's that for kissing, Calvaster?" she chirped. "Don't youwish it was you?"

"Come, son!" Pulfennius spluttered, "let us be gone! This isno place for us. We are being mocked and insulted."

"Nonsense, Pulfennius!" his host exclaimed. "Can't you seethat I had no part in this, that the minx devised it all byherself expressly to thwart me? Don't let her have thesatisfaction of outmanoeuvering both of us. Don't let a mereprank of a child spoil all our arrangements. She'll be a goodwife as she says."

"A good wife!" Pulfennius snorted. 'I much doubt whether shecan now ever be a good wife to any man. I'm sure she'll never bea wife to my son. You'd never convince me that she's fit to be myson's wife. Make her a Vestal, indeed! She a Vestal? She's muchmore likely to be something very different!"

"Do you mean to insinuate—" his host began.

"I mean to insinuate anything and everything appropriate toher wanton behavior," Pulfennius raged.

The two men glared at each other in a silence through whichcould be heard the cooing of the doves, the trickle of the twofountains, Brinnaria's low chuckle and the faint lisping sound ofthree distinct kisses.

"I beg your pardon!" spoke a voice behind them.

The four looked around.

"What brings you here, Segontius?" Brinnarius asked.

"One of my slaves brought me word," the intruder explained,"that my son had entered this house. I knew you had not changedyour mind since you forbade him to cross your threshold, so Icame here at once to disclaim any share in his intrusion and totake him home. I feared he might get into mischief."

"He has," Brinnarius replied, sententiously, "as you maysee."

Brinnaria, entirely at her ease, hugged Almo rapturously andkissed him repeatedly.

"And I thought," Segontius pursued, "that you would probablysmash every bone in his body if you caught him."

"I don't know why I haven't," spoke the big manreflectively.

"I know," shouted Pulfennius, "I can tell you. It is becausethis whole comedy has been rehearsed between you just to make meridiculous. I know your way, your malignity, your tenacity of agrudge, your pretence of reconciliation, your ingenuity, yourwell-laid traps. I'll be revenged for this yet!"

"You won't live to be revenged," Brinnarius told him, "unlessyou get out of here quick. I'll break every bone in your body,for certain, if you address another word to me."

"Come, son, said Pulfennius, and shambled away.

"And now," spoke Segontius, "don't you think, Marcus, that youand I had best forget our quarrels and be friends again? Theseyoung folks were plainly meant for each other by all the gods whofavor lovers. Let us not stand in the way."

"Indeed, Lucius," spoke the big man, holding out his hugehand. "I am of the same mind. But both of them deserve somepunishment for their presumption. They should wait four years atleast before they marry. My girl is too young."

"I agree," said Segontius, "and I'll send my boy to Faleriifor the present. That will keep them apart and ensure proprietyof behavior."

"That is well," growled Brinnarius, "and I'll send my girl toher aunt Septima's."

Brinnaria sprang up.

"Aunt Septima's?" she cried. "Spinach and mallows and a tinyroast lark for dinner every day. I'll starve to death And prim!I'd almost as lief be a Vestal!"

II. — SIEVES

TO her luxurious but austerely managed villa,Aunt Septima welcomed Brinnaria with heartfelt, if repressedaffection. Until the second sunrise Brinnaria controlled herself.Then the good lady endured her overgrown niece for some strenuousdays, suffered impatiently for a few more, but finally packed offto Rome "that unspeakable child." At home again Brinnariademanded pork and cabbage.

"My insides are as empty as the sky," she wailed. "Asparagusis all very well, but it's none too filling, even if you can eatall you want, and aunty says ten stalks is enough for any onemeal. Chicken-breast is good, hot or cold, but aunty would neverlet me have a second helping. She wouldn't even let me have asmuch bread as I wanted and only one little dish of strawberries.I filled up on raw eggs, all I could find in the nests. But, my,six days of raw eggs was five days too many for me. I'm wild forcabbage, all I want, and pork, big hunks of it."

She got it and slept a sound night's sleep.

The next day she craved an outing on foot. Her mother, proneto the shortest cut to peace on all occasions, acquiesced at onceand let her go out with her one-eyed maid, Utta.

Utta, born somewhere beyond the Rhine, had been brought toRome when a small child and had no memories except memories ofItaly. She was the most placid and acquiescent creatureimaginable. Her little mistress led her first of all to thenearest pastry-cook's shop where the two ate till they could notswallow another crumb.

Brinnaria, like many eccentric children born to wealth andposition, had special favorites, almost cronies, among the lowly.Chief among them was the old sieve-maker of the Via Sacra. To hisshop she made Utta lead her. Utta interposed no objection. Uttanever objected to anything. But in this case she was especiallycomplaisant, since opposite the sieve-maker's was a fascinatingembroidery shop, the keeper of which was entirely willing, whenhe had no customers, to let Utta lounge on one of his sofas andinspect embroideries to her heart's content. So lounging, rapt inthe contemplation of Egyptian appliqu‚s, Syrian gold-threadborders, Spanish linen-work, silk flower patterns from Cos,Parthian animal designs and Celtic cord-labyrinths afteroriginals in leather thongs, Utta could glance up from time totime and make sure that her charge was safe with the sieve-maker.

Safe she would have been without any maid to watch her, forold Truttidius adored her. He was a small, hale, merry, wizenedman, his seamed and wrinkled face brown as berry in spite of hislifelong habit of indoor labor and comparative inertia. He hadmore than a little tact and was an excellent listener. Brinnariawas entirely at ease with him.

His shop was rather large for those days, nearly fifteen feetwide and fully twenty deep. It faced directly on the street, fromwhich it was separated only by the stone counter which occupiedall the front except a narrow entrance at one side. Above thecounter projected the heavy shutters which closed the shop atnight and which, being hinged at the top, were by day pushedupward and outward so as to form a sort of pent like a woodensubstitute for an awning. The entrance by the end of the counterwas closed by a solid little gate. Behind the counter was the lowstool from which Truttidius rose to chaffer with customers, andon which, when not occupied in trading, he sat at work, his benchand brazier by his side, his tools hanging on the wall by hishand, orderly in their neat racks or on their neat rows of hooks.Except for the trifling wall-space which they occupied, the wallswere hidden under sieves hanging close together; bronze sieves,copper sieves, rush sieves with rims of white willow wood, whitehorse-hair sieves whose hoops were stout ash, sieves of blackhorse-hair stretched in rims of clean steamed oak and linensieves hooped about with birch. Sieves were piled on the counter,mostly fancy sieves with hoops of carved wood strung with blackand white horse-hair interlaced in bold patterns, or coppersieves, polished till they shone, they being most likely to catchthe eyes of the passing throng.

Brinnaria, sprawled on the sofa against the wall behind thework-bench, surveyed her surroundings and sighed happily,entirely at home. Truttidius was beating copper wire, a processalways fascinating to watch.

"I've had an awful time in the country with Aunt Septima,"Brinnaria chatted, "and I had an awful scare before they sent meto the country. Daddy threatened to make me a Vestal."

"In place of Rabulla?" Truttidius queried, glancing up.

"Yes," Brinnaria answered, "but I got off; my, but I wasscared though."

"You didn't want to be a Vestal?" Truttidius asked, eyeing herover his work.

"Not I!" Brinnaria declared. "I can't think of anything worseexcept being killed."

"Well," mused Truttidius, "there is no accounting for tastes.Most girls would be wild with delight at the idea. But therewould be no sense in being a Vestal unless you wanted to beone."

"I don't," Brinnaria proclaimed emphatically, "but I have beenthinking about Vestals ever since Daddy threatened me and scaredme so; I've been thinking about Vestals and sieves. Did anybodyever really carry water in a sieve, Truttidius?"

"Water in a sieve?" the old man exclaimed. "Not anybody thatever I saw. What do you mean?"

"You must have heard the story of Tuccia, the Vestal,"Brinnaria wondered, wide-eyed. "She lived ages ago, beforeHannibal invaded Italy, when everything was different. They saidshe was bad and she said it was a lie and they said she could notprove it was a lie and she said she could. She said if she wasall she ought to be the Goddess would show it by answering herprayer. And she took a sieve and walked down to the river, rightby the end of the Sublician bridge, where the stairs are on theright-hand side. And the five other Vestals, and the flamens, andall the priests, and the Pontifex, and the consuls went with her.And she stood on the lowest step with her toes in the water andprayed out loud to the Goddess to help her and show that she hadtold the truth and then she stooped over and dipped up water withher sacrificing ladle and poured it into the sieve and it didn'trun through, and she dipped up more and more until the sieve washalf full of water, as if it had been a pan. And then she hungher ladle at her girdle-hook and took the sieve in both hands andcarried the water all the way to the temple. And everybody saidthat that proved that she had told the truth.

"That's the story. Had you ever heard it?"

"Yes, little lady," Truttidius said, "I have heard it."

"What I want to know," Brinnaria pursued, "is this: Is it amade-up story or is it a true story P"

Little lady," spoke Truttidius, "it is impious to doubt thetruth of pious stories handed down from days of old."

"That isn't answering my question," said the practicalBrinnaria. "What I want you to tell me is to say right out plaindo you believe it. Did anybody really ever carry water in asieve?"

"You must remember, dear little lady," the sieve-maker said,"that she was a most holy priestess, most pleasing in the eyes ofher Goddess, that she was in dire straits and that she prayed tothe Goddess to aid her. The Goddess helped her votary; the godscan do all things."

"The gods can do all things," Brinnaria echoed, her eyesflashing, "but the gods don't do all things, not even for theirfavorites. There are lots and lots of things no god ever did forany votary or ever will. What I want to know is this: Is carryingwater in a sieve one of the things the gods not only can do butdo do? Did anybody ever carry water in a sieve truly?"

Truttidius smiled, his wrinkles doubling and quadrupling tillhis face was all a network of tiny folds of hard, dry skin. Heput down his work and regarded his guest, his face serious afterthe fading of his brief smile. The soft-footed sandalled throngthat packed the narrow street shuffled and padded by unnoticed.No customer interrupted them. They might have been alone in aSibyl's cell on a mountain side.

"Little lady," spoke the sieve-maker, "you are, indeed, veryold for your age, not only in height and build, but in heart andmind. What other child would bother her head about so subtle aproblem? What other child would perceive the verity at the heartof the puzzle and put it so neatly in so few words? To you an oldman cannot help talking as to an experienced matron, because toyou an old man can talk as to a woman of sense. You deserve to beanswered in the spirit of the question."

He reflected. Brinnaria, fascinated and curious, hardlybreathed in her intentness, watching his face and waiting for hisanswer.

"Little lady," he said, after a long silence, "the gods can,indeed, do all things. But as you have yourself perceived thegods do not do all things, even for their favorites. The godswork miracles to vindicate their votaries, but as you divine,each miracle is the happening by the special ordinance of thegods of what might happen even without their mandate, but whichdoes not happen because it is only once in countless ages thatall the circ*mstances necessary to bring about that sort ofhappening concur to produce so unusual an effect. What folks calla miracle is the occurrence, by the beneficent will of heaven, atjust the right time and place, of what might happen anywhere toany one, but almost never does happen anywhere to any one,because it is so unlikely that all things should conspire tobring about so unlikely a result.

"So of carrying water in a sieve.

"Anybody might carry water in a sieve any day. But veryseldom, oh, very, very seldom can it come to pass that the kindof person capable of carrying water in a sieve can be just in thecondition of muscle and mood to do so and can at just that momentbe in possession of just the kind of sieve that will hold waterand not let it through. For an actual breathing woman of fleshand blood to carry water in a real ordinary sieve of rush-fibres,or linen thread or horsehair or metal wire, in such a sieve aspastry-cooks use to sift their finest flour; for that to happenin broad daylight under the open sky before a crowd of onlookers,that requires the special intervention of the blessed gods, or ofthe most powerful of them. And not even all of them togethercould make that happen to a woman of ordinary quality of hand andeye, with a usual sieve, as most sieves are."

"Explain!" Brinnaria half whispered, "what kind of woman couldactually carry water in a sieve and in what kind of a sieve, andunder what circ*mstances?"

"That's three questions," Truttidius counted, "and one at atime is enough.

"In the first place, no god, not all the gods together, couldgive any votary power to carry water in a sieve, be it rush orlinen or horse-hair or metal, of which the meshes had been firstscrubbed with natron or embalmers' salt or wood-ashes or fullers'earth. Water would run through such a sieve, did even all thegods will that it be retained. No one ever dipped a sieve intowater and brought it up with water in it and saw that waterretained by the meshes. Once wet the under side of a sieve andwater will run through to the last drop.

"But if a sieve were ever so little greasy or oily, notdripping with oil or clogged with grease, but greasy as a workingslave's finger is greasy on a hot day; if such a sieve were freeof any drop of water on the underside, if into such a sieve waterwere slowly and carefully poured, as you say that Tuccia in thestory ladled water into her sieve with her libation-dipper, thenthat water might spread evenly over the meshes to the rim allaround, might deepen till it was as deep as the width of twofingers or of three, and might be retained by the meshes even foran hour, even while the sieve was carried over a rough road, uphill and down, through crowded streets.

"But few are the women who could so carry a sieve of water orcould even so hold it that the water would not run through atonce."

"How could the water be retained at all?" queried Brinnariathe practical. "What is the explanation?"

Truttidius wrinkled up his face in deep thought.

"You have seen wine spilled at dinner," he illustrated. "Youhave seen a drop of it or a splash of it fall on a sofa-cover,and you have seen it soak in and leave an ugly stain?"

"Of course," Brinnaria agreed, "often and often."

"And then again, not very often," the sieve-maker went on,"you see a patch of spilt wine stand up on a perfectly dry fabricand remain there awhile without soaking in, its surface shiningwet and its edges gleaming round and smooth and curved, bright asa star. Well, the retaining of water in a sieve by the openmeshes is like the momentary holding up of spilt wine on a wovenfabric. I can't explain any better, but the two happenings aresimilar, only the not soaking in of the splashed liquid is far,oh, far more frequent, countless, uncountable times morefrequent, than the sustaining of fluid in a sieve. But as the onecan happen and does, so the other could happen and might."

"I see," Brinnaria breathed. "You have made me see that. Now,next point: How must the sieve be held?"

The old man smiled again.

"You keep close to the subject," he chuckled. "You talk like agrandmother of consuls. You have a head on your shoulders."

"That does not answer my question," Brinnaria persisted.

"Your question is easily answered," he said. "For the miracleto happen, in fact, the sieve must be held as level as the toprail of a mason's T-shaped plumb-line frame, and as steady as ifclamped in a vise. For a woman to carry water in a sieve theweather must be dry, for in damp weather the water would runthrough the meshes, even if the threads or wires were just oilyenough and not too oily, even if the meshes were just the rightsize to favor the forming in each mesh of a little pocket ofwater underneath, like the edges of the upstanding drop of wineon a sofa-cushion. I don't know how it comes to pass, butsomehow, if all the conditions are right, little bags of waterform on the underside of a sieve, one to each mesh, like dropsafter a rain hanging from the edge of my shop-shutters, or fromthe mutules on the cornice of a temple. They are capable ofsustaining one or even two finger-thicknesses of water on theupper side of the sieve-web. But if the sieve-web is unevenlywoven or unevenly stretched, it will not retain water an instant,and if the sieve-web bags anywhere the water, even if the rest ofthe sieve-web promises to retain it, will run through at thatpoint. And even if the sieve is perfect, the slightest tilt, thevery slightest tilt, will cause the little bags of water to breakat the lowest point, and so start all the water to runningthrough. I know; I have tried; I have seen the sieve hold up thewater for some breaths. But for the marvel to last any length oftime, that would require the intervention of the gods; that wouldbe a miracle. For a woman to hold a sieve so that it would retainwater would mean that her hand was as steady as the hand of asleep-walker or of the priestess of Isis in her trance in thegreat yearly mystery-festival. That could happen seldom to anywoman; such a woman would be rare."

"I see," Brinnaria barely whispered, so intent was she on theold man's words. "Now, what kind of woman could do such awonder?"

"A very exceptional and unusual kind of woman," the old mandeclared. "Women, the run of them, are not steady-handed. Evensteady-handed women are easily distracted, their attention isreadily called away from any definite task. Even a woman usuallysteady-handed would find her hand tremble if she were consciousof guilt, even a woman high-hearted with her sense of her ownworthiness might glance aside at some one in a great crowd ofpeople about her, might let her thoughts wander.

"That is where the miracle would come in. Only a womandirectly favored by the mighty gods could so ignore the throngabout her, could so forget herself, could so concentrate all herfaculties on the receptacle she held, could so perfectly controlher muscles or could so completely let her muscles actundisturbed by her will, could possess muscles capable of so longtension at so perfect an adjustment."

"I see," Brinnaria sighed. "The thing may have happened infact, may happen again, but it could happen only once out of tentimes ten thousand times ten thousand chances. I understand. Itis a possibility in the ordinary course of events. It was amiracle if it ever took place; it will be a miracle if it evercomes to pass again. It is not impossible, but it's tooimprobable for anybody to believe it could be, in fact."

"You have it," the sieve-maker assured her.

"I'm glad I have," she said. "Now it'll go out of my head andquit bothering me. I've thought about it day and night ever sinceDaddy threatened me. Now I'll forget it and sleep sound."

III. — STUTTERINGS

WHEN Brinnaria returned from her outing shefound waiting for her her best friend, chum and crony, Flexinna,a girl four years older, not so tall, decidedly more slender andmuch prettier. Brinnaria was robustly handsome; Flexinna wasdelicately lovely, yet they did not differ much in tints of hair,eyes or skin and might have been sisters. In fact, they were notinfrequently taken for sisters.

They chatted of their girlish interests and of local gossipand family news, like any pair of girls, until Brinnariadescribed the escapade that led to her rustication.

Flexinna's eyes were wide and wider as she listened.

"D-d-do-you really m-m-mean," she stuttered, "that you had ac-c-chance to be a V-V-Vestal and d-d-didn't jump at it?"

"Jump at it!" exclaimed Brinnaria. "I jumped away from it! Ican't think of anything, except death, that would fill me withmore horror than the very idea of being made a Vestal. It makesme shiver now just to speak of it."

"You're a f-f-fool," Flexinna declared, "the f-f-foolest kindof a f-f-fool. This is the f-f-first f-f-foolish thing I everknew you to d-d-do. I always th-th-thought you s-s-so s-s-sensible, t-t-too. And you've m-m-missed a ch-ch-chance to be aV-V-Vestal. I've n-n-no p-p-patience with you. Any other g-g-girlwould j-j-jump at the ch-ch-chance."

"Jump at it!" cried Brinnaria. "Why?"

"Why?" sneered Flexinna, blazing with excitement. "Why, justthink what you've m-m-missed! You're as wild as I am to see g-g-gladiators fight, k-k-keener than I am to see a real horse-racein the circus, and you'll have to wait until you're g-g-grown up,as I'll have to, before you s-s-see either. And you'd have g-g-gone to every spectacle, from the very day you were t-t-taken,and not have m-m-missed one. Think of it! F-F-Front seats in thecircus, front seats in the amphitheatre, all your life, or forthirty years at least, for certain! And you've m-m-missed it. Andthat's not half. Your lictor to c-c-clear the way for youwhenever you g-g-go out and your choice to g-g-go out in yourlitter with eight b-b-bearers or in your c-c-carriage, your ownc-c-carriage, all your own, and the right to d-d-drive any wherein the city any d-d-day in the year. Oh, you f-f-fool, you s-s-silly f-f-fool! A ch-ch-chance to be one of the s-s-seven m-m-most imp-p-portant women in Rome, one of the s-s-six who are on alevel with the Empress, and you m-m-missed it! Fancy it; to b-b-be mistress of an income so large that it m-m-makes you d-d-dizzyto think of it, and you throw away the ch-ch-chance! To be ablethe m-m-moment you were taken, to m-m-make your own w-w-will! Tohave every legacy c-c-cadger in Rome running after you and m-m-making you p-p-presents and d-d-doing you favors and angling foryour n-n-notice all your 1-l-life 1-1-long, and you m-m-miss thech-ch-chance!"

"Yes," Brinnaria admitted, reflectively, "I have missed allthat, that's so. But that's not all there is to think of, whenyou think about being a Vestal. I've missed a lot of fineprivileges, mighty valuable to any girl that would care for thatsort of thing; but I've escaped a lot of things that would gowith those privileges. I love bright colors, I always did and Ilook ghastly in white—I look like a ghost. And I'd have hadto wear white and nothing else, even white flowers, like acorpse. And a Vestal has to keep her eyes on the ground and walkslow and stately and stand straight and dignified, and talk softand low. I'd suffer, even if I could learn all the tricks theyteach them as well as Gargilia has. And I don't believe I evercould. I'd keep my eyes cast down for a month or a year and then,right in the middle of a sacrifice, I'd see something funny, likethe gander squawking under the feet of the pall-bearers at poorold Gibba's funeral at the farm last summer, and I'd wink at thehead Vestal or roll my eyes at the whole congregation and spoilthe prayers; or, after keeping meek and mum for a year or so I'dbe so wild to laugh that I'd roar right out and break up thewhole service. I think I'm the last girl alive to be a Vestal. AVestal mustn't answer back or make a pun, no matter how good achance she gets. I just can't help cutting in, if I see a chance;the words come out of my mouth before I know it, and, if Itrained myself to keep still and look as mild as a lamb, I'd beboiling inside and sometime I'd burst out with a yell just torelieve my feelings or I'd jab a shawl-pin into the Pontifex tosee him jump, or put out my toe and trip up somebody just to seehim sprawl. I couldn't help it. The more I'd bottle myself up thefarther the naughtiness in me would spurt when it burst throughthe skin. I know. No Vestaling for me! I wasn't born for thattrade!"

"Nonsense!" Flexinna disclaimed vigorously. "You'd g-g-getused to the whole thing in a m-m-month and be the most s-s-statuesque of the six in t-t-ten years. Think of it! I'm justraging inside at your f-f-folly. To have the right to aninterview with the Emperor whenever you d-d-demand it, to see them-m-magistrates' lictors lower their fasces to you and s-s-standaside at the s-s-salute and let you p-p-pass whenever you m-m-meet them in p-p-public. To live in one of the finest p-p-palacesin Rome, one of the most m-m-magnificent residences on earth, tohave the ch-ch-chance at all that and m-m-miss it; I've no p-p-patience with you!"

"That's all very fine," Brinnaria countered, "but there's muchto be said on the other side. I've been in the Atrium. AuntSeptima took me there to call on Causidiena. It's big, it'sgorgeous, it's luxurious, that's all true. But I love sunlight.I'd loathe living in that hole in the ground; why, the shadow ofthe Palace falls across the courtyard before noon and for all therest of the day it's gloomy as the bottom of a well. I heardCausidiena tell Aunt Septima how shoes mould and embroideriesmildew and what a time they have with the inlays popping off thefurniture on account of the dampness and about the walls andlamp-standards sweating moisture. I'd hate the dark, poky, coldplace."

"Oh," Flexinna admitted, "there are d-d-drawbacks to any s-s-situation in life, but, really the higher the s-s-station thefewer the drawbacks. The p-p-plain truth is that being a Vestalis the highest s-s-station in Rome except being an Empress. No g-g-girl dare aspire to be an Empress; it would be treason. If anyg-g-girl d-d-dreams of it she k-k-keeps her d-d-dreams toherself. But any g-g-girl has a right to aspire to be a Vestal,if she is made perfect and is under ten and has her f-f-fatherand m-m-mother noble and alive. You've got all that and you areoffered what any g-g-girl would envy you and you throw it away!I've no patience with you."

"You forget," Brinnaria argued, "that I'm in love with Almoand I'd have to give up Almo."

"Not f-f-forever," Flexinna retorted. "He's enough in lovewith you to wait for you, to wait for you! You could have pledgedhim to wait till your term of service was up and then you twocould have married just the same."

"Just the same!" Brinnaria echoed. "A lot of good it'd do meto marry after I'd be an old wrinkled, gray-haired woman offorty, dried up and withered."

"Nemestronia," Flexinna cited, "has married twice since shewas forty, and she's not withered yet, not by a great deal, evenif she is gray-haired and has a wrinkle or two."

"What's the use of arguing," Brinnaria summed up. "I hate thevery idea of being a Vestal. I'd hate the fact a million timesmore. I'd hate it even if I were not in love with Almo, furiouslyin love with Almo. Daddy says I've got to wait four years tomarry him. I roll around in bed and bite the pillows with rage tothink of it, night after night. A fine figure I'd cut trying towait thirty years for him. I'd swoon with longing for him andwrite him a note or peep out of the temple to see him go by andthen I'd get accused of misbehavior, and accused is convicted fora Vestal; well, you know it. I'd look fine being buried alive ina seven-by-five underground stone cell, with half a pint of milkand a gill of wine to keep me alive long enough to suffer beforeI starved to death and a thimbleful of oil in a lamp to make memore scared of the dark when the lamp burned out. No burial alivefor me. I'm in love. I'm too much in love to balance arguments.I'm not sorry I missed my chance, as you call it. I'm glad Iescaped; the chance isn't missed for that matter. Rabulla's placehasn't been filled yet."

"Do you know who is g-g-going to be ch-ch-chosen to fill it?"Flexinna asked. "You d-d-don't? The choice has about narrowed d-d-down to that execrable, weasel-faced little M-M-Meffia."

"Meffia!" Brinnaria cried. "There's no one alive I despise asmuch as that detestable ninny. I've a mind to chuck Almo and askDaddy to offer me, just to spite Meffia."

"Why d-d-don't you?" Flexinna stuttered. "D-d-do it n-n-now,right n-n-now. You might be t-t-too late."

"Oh bosh," Brinnaria groaned. "What's the use of talkingnonsense? What would be the sense in my spoiling my life to spiteMeffia? I hate her. I'll hate to see her putting on airs as aVestal, but I'd hate worse to be a Vestal myself, and worst ofall to lose Almo. I just couldn't give up Almo."

"I wish I were you," Flexinna raged. "If I were only under tenand d-d-didn't s-s-stutter, I'd d-d-do all I c-c-could to g-g-getD-D-Daddy to offer m-m-me."

"Bosh!" Brinnaria sneered. "You're in love with Vocco and youknow you wouldn't even think of giving him up if you had thechance."

"Just wouldn't I!" Flexinna retorted. "I love Quintus dearly.But if I had a ch-ch-chance to be a V-V-Vestal, I'd fling poorQuintus hard and never regret him. Not I. Think of the influencea V-V-Vestal has! Every man who wants p-p-promotion in the armyor in the fleet, or who wants an appointment to any office wouldset his sisters and all his women relations to besieging me touse my influence for him. Every temple-carver and shrine-painterin Rome would have his wife showing me attentions. I know; I'veheard the talk.

"And b-b-besides, in all the Empire a Vestal is the nearestthing to a p-p-princess we have. We read a lot about Egyptianprincesses, and Asiatic princesses and we hear about P-P-Parthianp-p-princesses, but the only p-p-princesses we ever see are theVestals. They are the only p-p-princesses in the Empire, inItaly, in Rome, the six of them. And you had a chance to be oneof the only six p-p-princesses in our world and you didn't takeit. Oh, you f-f-fool, you f-f-fool!"

They wrangled about their conflicting views for a longtime.

It was only as Flexinna was leaving that she inquiredcasually:

"Have you heard what Rabulla d-d-died of?"

"No," said Brinnaria. "what was it?"

"Hadn't you heard?" Flexinna wondered. "It was the p-p-pestilence."

IV. — PESTILENCE

PESTILENCE!

Brinnaria heard the word often during the next few days. Rometalked of little else. It had begun with a few deaths along theriver front in the sailors' quarters, and among the stevedoresand porters of the grain-warehouses, southwest of the AventineHill in the thirteenth ward. Next it came to notice when therewere many deaths along the Subura in the very centre of the city.From there the infection had spread to every wind. Panic seizedthe people. There was an exodus of all who could afford it, totheir country estates, to the mountains, to the seaside.Brinnarius and Quartilla discussed arrangements for theirdeparture to his mountain farm in the Sabine hills aboveCarsioli. Their difficulty was to decide to whom to commit theirgreat house in Rome. They had no slave whom they implicitlytrusted, and no one certainly who would be willing to stay in thecity. To close the house was to invite burglary, for in thegeneral panic watchmen were unreliable and house-breakings werefrequent. Into their consultation Brinnaria thrust herselfuninvited.

"Why don't you leave me in town?" she suggested. "I hate thecountry and I hate it near Carsioli worse than any neighborhood Iever saw. I want to stay right here. I love Rome. And I'm notafraid of pestilence. Nobody can die more than once and nobodydies till the gods will it. There's more danger of dying offright and worry than of pestilence. Anyhow a pestilence neverkills all the people in a city, most of the townsfolk stay rightat home and keep alive all right. Half the people that die scareor fret themselves to death. I won't fret or worry and I'll keepwell here; but if you take me with you I'll be miserable andchafe myself ill. I can run the house as well as mother can. Mostof the slaves worship me and will obey me for love, the rest aredeadly afraid of me and will not dare to disobey me. I'll keeporder and I will not waste a sesterce. Can't I stay, Father?"

Brinnarius knit his brows and looked at his wife. Her eyesanswered his.

"It would save a deal of trouble," he said, reflectively.

"It would make a deal of gossip," Quartilla declared. "All myenemies would say that I am an unnatural mother, that I do notlove my youngest child, that I hate her, that I am exposing herto certain death, that I am as bad as a murderess."

"Nonsense!" her husband retorted. "We can't bother about allthe malice of all the slanderers in Rome. Other people'sdaughters are remaining. Lucconius means to stay here in Romewith his family. If he ventures to keep Flexinna here we mightventure to leave Brinnaria behind."

"You might," that self-assertive child cut in, "and you knowthere is really no use in taking me if I do not want to go. Youknow how much trouble it will make for both of you."

Quartilla sighed.

"Perhaps we had best leave her," she said. "Certainly thehouse will be safe and the slaves kept in order. I shan't have aninstant's anxiety about that. Then Brinnaria is so genuinelybrave that she will really not dread the pestilence, and all thedoctors say that there is nothing like that feeling to protectany one from the danger. She makes me feel that she will be safe.I don't believe I'll worry about that either."

"Fine!" Brinnaria squealed. "I'm to stay."

"Not so fast," her father rebuked her. "I haven't said yetthat you may stay. But if I say so, then you must stay. I'll nothave you changing your mind and deciding to leave Rome after wehave arranged to put you in charge here. It would make troubleindeed to have you shutting up this house in a hurry and chasingafter us to Carsioli."

"Epulo!" his wife reproached him, "the child has her faults,but changeableness is not one of them. She is the most resolutechild I ever knew. If you leave her, she will not fail us. If shegives her word she will keep it. I never knew Brinnaria to breakan earnestly made promise."

"Will you promise?" her father asked her.

"I promise," Brinnaria shouted, "I pledge myself. I take oath.I swear by my love of both of you, by my respect for our clan, bymy hopes of marrying Almo, that I'll stick it out here in Rome,going out only when necessary, unless you send for me to comeaway. If anything happens that makes me think I ought to leavethe city I shall send a message to you, but I shall not cross thecity boundaries nor relax my watch on this house without yourpermission. I swear."

"That's enough, dearie," her father said, "enough and toomuch. If your judgment tells you that you ought to flee fromRome, you have my permission to send me a messenger; I know youwill not resort to that without real need. I rely on yourjudgment. The gods be with you, child. You have taken a load ofmy shoulders, two loads, in fact."

Thereupon preparations for departure were pushed and soonafter sunrise on the next day Brinnaria found herself left to herown resources, responsible for the welfare of a large retinue ofobsequious slaves, autocrat over them, and mistress of one of thelargest private houses in Rome. She acquitted herself well of herduties. She had been right in claiming that she was loved by mostand feared by the rest. Certainly she was trusted and respectedby all as if she had been five times her age. She made them ascomfortable as town-slaves could be and they knew it. To her theyaccorded instant and implicit obedience. The life of thehousehold went on as smoothly as if the master had been at home.And its life was not gloomy. Although the main subject ofconversation was the pestilence, open forebodings were notindulged in and the house was outwardly cheerful.

Equally cheerful was Flexinna, whom Brinnaria saw daily.Neither of them had the slightest fear of the pestilence and nomember of either household had shown the slightest symptoms ofany kind of illness. Of the daily deaths among their largeacquaintance or among the nobilities of the city, they talkedcalmly, without any feeling of gloom or of dread, secure in theconfidence of youth and health.

On the tenth day after Brinnaria had been left to her owndevices Flexinna visited her as usual. Early in their talk shesaid:

"D-D-Dossonia died last night."

"The Chief Vestal?" Brinnaria queried.

"Yes," Flexinna replied, a bright tear in each eye.

"She couldn't live forever," Brinnaria said. "She was ninety-four, wasn't she?"

"Ninety-four years and eight months yesterday," Flexinnareplied. "She had been Chief Vestal ever since C-C-Calpurnia P-P-Praetextata died, and that's fifty-six years ago. She had beenChief Vestal longer than any ever and she had lived longer thanany Vestal ever."

"Well," said Brinnaria, the practical, "she ought to have beenglad to go, and she stone blind for twenty years."

"Yes, I know," Flexinna rejoined, "but she was such an old d-d-dear, she looked so much younger than her age, her face sohealthy and pink, and b-b-beautiful even with all its wrinkles,so calm and placid and holy I loved to look at her sitting in herbig chair like a great white b-b-butterfly, so plump and handsomeand soft-looking. She always put out her hand to my face andrecognized me at the first t-t-touch, almost, and gave me herblessing so b-b-beautifully. Sometimes Manlia let me read to theold dear, and she always seemed to enjoy it so much. I'm realshaken at her d-d-death. I really loved her."

"Everybody loved her," Brinnaria declared. "But everybodyloves Causidiena too, and she's Chief Vestal now. She's not fatand placid like Dossonia, but she is wonderfully dignified. My, Iadmire that woman!"

"I wonder," Flexinna reflected, "who will be chosen in her p-p-place."

"Poor wretch!" Brinnaria commented. "I'm sorry for her,whoever she is. Just think, she'll have to pair with thatunspeakable little muff of a Meffia. I hate that girl."

"Whoever she is," Flexinna continued, "she is sure to bechosen and taken mighty quick. For with this p-p-pestilence inthe city, and all the trouble the P-P-Parthians are making in theEast, of the Marcomanni on the Rhine colonies, and the thunder-storms that have raged about lately, there'll be need felt forall the p-p-prayers all the offer. They'll not leave the vacancyopen long. I'll bet they have it filled by d-d-day after to-morrow. Old B-B-Bambilio is a stickler for pious precision anobservance of all ritual matters and the Emperors are withhim."

"Marcus is," Brinnaria agreed, pertly, "but Lucius doesn'tcare what happens so long as he has his fun."

"You mustn't t-t-t-talk that way about the Emperors," Flexinnacautioned her. "If you were overheard you'd get into no end oftrouble. Anyhow, Verus defers to Aurelius in everything, so thatwhatever Aurelius wishes is as if both wished it. And there neverwas a more p-p-pious Emperor than Aurelius. So the place iscertain to be filled p-p-promptly."

"At once, for sure," Brinnaria agreed. "I wonder who thevictim will be? Do you suppose it will be Occurnea?"

"It would have been Occurnea, I think," Flexinna said. "Youknow it was a chance for a while whether she'd get it instead ofMeffia. But she's not eligible now. Her mother d-d-diedyesterday."

"Tallentia, perhaps," Brinnaria hazarded.

"Impossible," Flexinna declared. "You remember how recklesslyshe rode and how her horse f-f-fell on her. She has limped eversince and always will."

"Cuppiena?" suggested Brinnaria.

"Not she," said Flexinna; "she has some k-k-kind of skin rashand has lost almost all her hair."

"Sabbia," Brinnaria proposed.

"Her mother's d-d-dead too," Flexinna reminded her; "has beenfor months."

"Fremnia," came the next suggestion.

"She's off to Aquileia with her family," said Flexinna; "theyall left the d-d-day your folks went."

"Eppia," ventured Brinnaria.

"She's ten years old now," Flexinna demurred. "She celebratedher b-b-birthday three days before the Kalends. I was at theparty."

"Pennasia, perhaps," Brinnaria suggested.

"D-d-deaf in one ear like her mother and grandmother," saidFlexinna, "and you know it."

"Licinia," Brinnaria ventured.

"She'd be the last they'd choose on account of the b-b-badluck Vestals of her family have had;" Flexinna reminded her. "Thevery name suggests disgrace. Anyhow, she's in Baiae with her p-p-people."

"Rentulana," came the next conjecture.

"Has a b-b-big wen on the side of her head," Flexinnaproclaimed.

"Numledia?" came next.

"You've lost your memory, Brinnaria," said Flexinna, severely."She's got a b-b-big purple birthmark on her neck."

"Magnonia," Brinnaria proposed.

"She's far away, in Britain, with her father and mother; mightas well be out of the world."

Brinnaria was at a loss. She meditated. "Gavinna!" she said atlast.

"She has a bad squint and you know it," laughed Flexinna. "Whydon't you think of an eligible c-c-candidate?"

They tried a dozen more names, all of girls out of the city ordefective in some way, or with one parent dead.

"But who will it be?" Brinnaria wondered. "It's bound to besomebody and quick."

She jumped to her feet.

She screamed.

"They'll take me! They'll take me! Oh, what am I to do, whatam I to do? I'm the only possible candidate in the city. Andthey'll be after me the moment they run over the lists and findno one else is in town."

She stood a moment, considering, then she called Guntello, anda lean Caledonian slave called Intinco. She gave them each awritten journey-order to show to any patrol that questioned them,told Guntello to take the best horse in the stable and to givethe next best to Intinco, bade Intinco ride to Carsioli andGuntello to Falerii, gave Guntello a letter for Almo and Intincoa letter to her father and told them verbally, in case the letterwas lost, to make it plain that she was in danger of being takenfor a Vestal and bid her father come quickly to interfere and herlover to ride fast to claim her in time. She enjoined both slavesto spur their horses, gave them money in case they needed to hirefresh mounts and wound up:

"Kill Rhaebus, kill Xanthus, kill as many hired horses as needbe, ride without halt or mercy. Get there and get father and Almohere. Be quick. You can't be too quick."

She watched them ride off at a sedate walk, for no man wasallowed to trot a horse in the streets of Rome. Both had assuredher that they would ride at full gallop from the moment theypassed the gates.

Then began for Brinnaria a tense and anxious period ofwaiting. Flexinna obtained her parents' permission and remainedwith her friend. The entire household continued in good healthand there was nothing to distract t he two from their dread onthe one hand that the Pontifex might come to claim Brinnariabefore Almo and her father arrived, and their hope on the otherhand of seeing them come in time.

On the whole the strain told on Flexinna more than onBrinnaria, who never once shed a tear, attended to herhousewifely duties calmly and steadily and talked little.Flexinna fidgeted constantly and talked a good deal.

"If I were in your place," she said, "I shouldn't be waitinghere inertly for Faltonius to come and claim me. Instead ofdispatching messengers for your father and Almo, you ought tohave left the city at once and made your best speed for Carsioliyourself."

"I couldn't," Brinnaria declared, "and you know why. I passedmy word to stay in this house and not so much as to go out unlesssome compelling necessity arose. I pledged myself not to leavehere unless I sent a messenger saying I needed to leave andreceived permission before I started. I took my oath not to crossthe city limits without Father's consent. I can't break my oathand I shouldn't break my word, even if I hadn't sworn in additionto promising."

"You f-f-fool!" Flexinna declared.

"All members of our clan keep their word," said Brinnariaproudly. "We do not ask whether it is advantageous to keep ourword or pleasant; when we have passed our word we keep it. I'vegiven my word and there's nothing to do but to wait for Almo andDaddy and hope that both, or at least a message from Daddy willget here before Faltonius."

"There is something else you might do," Flexinna suggested."You might easily arrange to be ineligible before Bambilio comesfor you."

"I shall," spoke the matter-of-fact Brinnaria. "The momentDaddy and Almo come, I'll be Alma's wife in less time than ittakes to tell it and will be able to snap my fingers atBambilio."

"Suppose he comes before your father," Flexinna suggested.

"I'd be a Vestal and all hope gone," said Brinnaria,

"I mean," said Flexinna, "suppose Almo comes before yourfather."

"I've thought of that," Brinnaria admitted. "But I'd hate tobreak the record of which our family is so proud. None of ourwomen ever were so much as accused of any misbehavior beforemarriage."

"I've no p-p-patience with you," Flexinna raged. 'You'll throwaway your life for a mere scruple. You risk being made a Vestalevery moment. Faltonius may be on the way here now. If I were inyour place I'd make sure. I'd not wait for Almo. Any lad would dofor me. You c-c-could make sure, if you had sense. Almo wouldforgive you and marry you anyway. Your father would forgive you;he'd never approve, I know."

"Not he!" Brinnaria proclaimed, "and he'll never have any suchdishonor to forgive. No man of our clan ever had reason to beashamed of his daughter or of his sister. I'll not be the firstto disgrace the clan. If Faltonius comes he'll find me aseligible as the hour I was born, unless Daddy and Almo come intime for me to be married first."

"At least," Flexinna persisted, "you might say no when he asksyou. That would stall the whole ceremony and give you t-t-time."

"Do you suppose," Brinnaria sneered, "that I haven't thoughtof that? I'm tempted, of course. But that would be to advertisemyself a disgrace to the Pontifex during a solemninterrogatory."

"At least," Flexinna pleaded, "you might say you are over age.You look sixteen to anybody, and no one would imagine you areunder fourteen. You could halt the proceedings, at least, andgain t-t-time."

"Faltonius has the lists," said Brinnaria wearily, "with allthe birthdays sworn to by both parents for every girl on them andattested by four excellent witnesses, besides. He'd know I waslying and it would do me no good."

Flexinna changed the subject.

But when the next day dawned and neither Brinnarius nor Almoappeared, she returned to the attack. Brinnaria was very pale,very tense, but obdurate. She controlled herself, did not forget,did not express her feelings, but she posted a slave at eachstreet corner, right and left of the house-door, and had themlook out for what she hoped and what she feared.

Dastor brought word that the Pontifex and his retinue wereapproaching; three litters, each with eight bearers, preceded bythe lictor of the Chief Vestal.

Brinnaria, pale and tense, did her best to look collected andcontrolled. She succeeded well, heard calmly the announcement ofher august visitors, ordered them shown into the atrium, andreceived them with proper dignity. Her self-possession did notdesert her when she recognized in the train of the Pontifex herrejected suitor Calvaster, sly, malignant and with an air ofsuppressed elation.

Faltonius Bambilio, the Pontifex of Vesta, was a pursy, pudgy,pompous old man, immensely self-important, almost ridiculous inhis fussiness, but clothed with a certain impressiveness by themere fact of his religious office. He gazed about him, stared atBrinnaria, hemmed and hawed and threw himself into poses intendedto be stately.

With him was Causidiena, now Chief Vestal, a tall, spare womanof about forty-five, her austere face kindly and reassuring, herdark hair barely showing under her official head-dress, astatuesque figure in her white robes of office.

"My daughter," spoke Faltonius to Brinnaria, "Rome has butfive Vestals. I have come to take you into the vacant place. Youhave been chosen, as best suited to this high dignity, from amongthose whose names were on the lists of those fit for the office.Was it proper that your name should be on the lists?"

"I believe so," spoke Brinnaria, weakly, almost in awhisper.

"Are you fit to be taken as a Vestal, my daughter?"

"I believe so," came the answer.

"Have you any blemish or defect of body, any impediment ofspeech, any difficulty of hearing?"

Brinnaria's awe was wearing off, and the irritating pomposityof Faltonius was producing its usual effect of arousingantagonism, as it generally did in those he talked to. Brinnariafelt all her wild self surge up in her.

"I'm sound as a two-year-old racing filly," she replied. "I'mclean as fresh curd; I hear you perfectly and you can hear meperfectly."

Bambilio bristled like a bantam rooster.

"That is not the way for a Vestal to speak," he rebuked.

"I'm not a Vestal yet," Brinnaria retorted, "and that was myanswer to those questions. If you don't like it I don't care ashred of bran."

"Come! come!" fussed Bambilio, "answer the interrogatoriesproperly."

"I have and I shall," Brinnaria maintained mutinously.

"Are you fit in mind and in faculties to be a Vestal?" hecontinued.

"Fit to be Flaminica or Empress," Brinnaria responded.

"Are you pure?" came the next query.

"As when I was born," said Brinnaria emphatically.

"What is your age?" the Pontifex queried his victim.

"I'll be ten on the Ides of next September," quoth hisvictim.

"Are your parents both alive?" he asked.

"They were the last time I heard of them," spoke Brinnariaflippantly.

"When was that?" he insisted.

"This is the twelfth day since they left Rome," saidBrinnaria, "and I've not heard from them since they sent amessenger back from the ninth milestone on the road toTibur."

Faltonius was irritating her more and more, and she added:

"They may both be dead by this time, for all I know."

"This will not do," spoke Faltonius. "We must be sure thatthey are both alive."

"Find out," snapped Brinnaria.

Up spoke young Calvaster, his pasty face alight with a sort ofmalicious glee.

"I passed Quartilla's travelling carriage at Varia last night.Quartilla was alive and well. I passed Brinnarius this morning atdawn, this side of Tibur. He was alive then and puffing."

"How did you get here ahead of him?" Brinnariainterjected.

"I am light built," Calvaster explained with obvious relish,"and I rode the best horse in Italy. His mount labored heavilyunder his load."

"Both parents are then alive," spoke Faltonius. "I hereuponand hereby pronounce you in all respects fit to be taken as aVestal. Are you willing?"

"Not I!" Brinnaria fairly shouted.

"Not willing!" Faltonius cried, incredulous.

"Not a fibre of me!" she proclaimed emphatically.

"Wretched girl!" expostulated the Pontiff. "Have you no senseof patriotism? Do you not realize your duty to your country, tothe Roman people, to Rome, to the Emperor, to all of us, to thecommonwealth? Do yon not realize Rome's need of you? Shall it besaid that Rome has need of one of her daughters and that herunnatural child refuses?"

"I have not refused," said Brinnaria. "I only said I wasunwilling."

"It is the same thing," declared the bewilderedecclesiastic.

"Not a bit the same thing," Brinnaria disclaimed. "I know myduty in this matter perfectly. Castor be good to me, I know ittoo well. I know that a refusal would avail me nothing, if I didrefuse. I have not refused. I would not, even if I could escapeby refusal I realize my duty. If I am taken I shall be all that aVestal is expected to be, all that she must be to ensure theglory and prosperity and safety of the city and the Empire. Ishall not fail the Emperor nor the Roman people, nor Rome. But Iam unwilling, and I said so. Little good it will do me. But I amno liar, not even in the tightest place."

"Stand up, my daughter," said Faltonius, rising himself,suddenly clothed in dignity, a really impressive figure, in spiteof his globular proportions.

Brinnaria stood, her eyes on the door to the vestibule, herface very pale, trembling a little, but controlled.

The Pontifex took her hand and spoke:

"As priestess of Vesta, to perform those rites which it isfitting that a priestess of Vesta perform for the Roman Peopleand the citizens, as a girl who has been chosen properly, so Itake you, Beloved."

At the word "Beloved," which made her irretrievably a Vestal,Brinnaria could not repress a little gasp. Her eyes no longerwatched the vestibule door. She looked at the Pontiff. He let goher hand.

"You will now go with your servitor to be clothed as befitsyour calling."

He indicated one of Causidiena's attendants, a solidly builtwoman, like a Tuscan villager, who carried over her arm a mass offresh white garments and robes.

With her and Causidiena Brinnaria left the atrium; with themshe presently returned, a slim white figure, her hair braided andthe six braids wound round her forehead like a coronet, abovethem the folds of the plain square headdress of the Vestals.

"I thought," she said, "that my hair would be cut off."

"That will be after you are made at home in the Atrium ofVesta," spoke the Pontiff.

"And remember," he continued sternly, "that you are now aVestal and that young Vestals may not speak unless spokento."

Brinnaria bit her lip.

At that moment they heard hoofs and voices outside, the doorburst open and Brinnarius entered.

"Too late, Daddy!" cried Brinnaria. "You can't help me now.I'm not your little girl any more; I don't count as yourdaughter; you don't count as my father; I'm daughter to thePontifex from now on. I'm a Vestal."

She was trembling, but she kept her countenance. Brinnariusuttered no sound, the whole gathering was still and mute, thenoises of the street outside were plainly audible. They heardhorse-hoofs again, again the door flew open wide. In burst Almo,wide-eyed and panting.

At him Brinnaria launched a sort of shriek ofexpostulation.

"Why couldn't you ride! You call yourself a horseman! Andyou've come too late! I mustn't even kiss you good-bye. And Imustn't speak to you, I mustn't see you, I mustn't so much asthink of you for thirty years, for thirty years, for thirtyyears!"

V. — ESCAPADES

WHEN Brinnaria found herself actually domiciledin the House of the Vestals she experienced an odd mingling ofawe and elation. The mere size of it was impressive, for it wasnearly two hundred feet wide and almost four hundred feet long.Also it stood alone, bounded by four streets. Besides, it gainedmuch dignity from its location, near the southeast corner of thegreat Forum of Rome, that most famous of all city squares, andunder the very shadow of the Imperial Palace, the walls of whichtowered nearly three hundred feet above it, where it crouched asit were, on a site scooped out of the huge flank of the PalatineHill.

Completely as it was dominated by the enormous bulk of thePalace it yet looked very large, having three lofty stories.Inside it was both spacious and stately. Brinnaria was habituatedto space and stateliness, for her father's house had both, yetthe Atrium of Vesta, as the House of the Vestals was officiallydenominated, impressed her as vast and splendid. That thisimmense and magnificent building was to be her home gave hersense of her own importance that thrilled her through andthrough. Its numerous retinue of deft and obsequious maid-servants added to this impression. Brinnaria's personalattendants, entirely at her beck and call and serving her alone,made up a considerable retinue by themselves. She found herself,like each of the other Vestals, served by a special waitress attable, by a waitress who had nothing to do but look after herwants. Then she had a sort of maid-of-honor, who had no dutiesexcept to act as companion, make herself agreeable, read aloud,if requested, accompany her on her outings and help to pass herleisure pleasantly. As she was a mere child in years she had asort of governess to instruct her in all those subjects in whicha Roman girl of good family was generally given lessons: correctreading; a smattering of mathematics, about equivalent to thesimple arithmetic of our days; some knowledge of literature; asteady and efficient drill in reading and talking Greek;instrumental music, similar to the guitar-playing of moderntimes, and embroidery. She had a personal maid to bathe her,arrange her hair and otherwise make her comfortable; also aspecial maid to attend to her private apartment, which includedwhat we would call a sitting-room, a tiny bedroom, and a largebath-room. The largest room was used mostly as a school-room forlessons with her instructress. Outside the Atrium Brinnaria hadher private stable, her carriages, her coachman and ostlers, andher lictor, the red-cloaked runner, who preceded her carriage,announced its coming and cleared the way for it through thecrowds of foot-passengers who thronged the streets of Rome. Lifein the Atrium was austere and formal, but in no respect ascetic.The austerities extended only to attire and behavior. Thedecorations of the courtyard, of the corridors and stairs, of thetwo hundred rooms, were bewilderingly varied and overpoweringlygorgeous. Every appointment of the Atrium was luxurious to thelast degree; the furnishings were beautiful and precious, everyobject a work of art; the bathrooms cunningly devised forcomfort, the beds deep and soft, scarcely less so the sofas onwhich the Vestals reclined at their meals, the table service ofexquisite glass-ware and elaborately chased silver, the foodabundant and including every delicacy and rarity most appetizingand enjoyable.

Except Meffia her co-Vestals were immediately liked andspeedily loved by Brinnaria. Meffia, a month older than herselfand looking six years younger, was a small, awkward, ungainlygirl, with pale blue eyes, pale yellow hair and babyish pinkcomplexion. She had never had an ill hour in her life, yet shealways appeared ailing, shrank from any effort, hated exerciseand exertion and at every necessity for movement asserted thatshe was tired, often that she felt weak. Brinnaria thought hermerely innately lazy and a natural shirk. The more she saw of herthe more her loathing for her and her hatred of her intensified.Quite the reverse with the others. Manlia was a large young womanof about twenty-two, a typical Roman aristocrat, her hair betweendark brown and black, her complexion swarthy, her figureabundant. Gargilia was older than Manlia; a tall, slendercreature with intensely black hair and piercing black eyes thatlooked straight at you out of a face healthfully tinted indeed,but of a whiteness which was the envy of half the beauties inRome. Numisia Maximilla was much like an older Manlia, but sparerand of markedly haughty bearing and carriage. Causidiena, newlybecome Chief Vestal, was a woman of about forty-five years ofa*ge, mild, gentle, and charming, with cool gray eyes and glossybrown hair, a being who aroused affection, inspired admirationand compelled love from all her household.

She won Brinnaria's heart at once by telling her that sheherself, when she had first entered the Atrium of Vesta, hadfound it difficult to learn the etiquette of the order, hadwanted to shout and sing and laugh out loud, to run up and downstairs instead of walking, to skip and jump.

That Causidiena had triumphed over similar tendenciescomforted Brinnaria and helped her to try to overcome her own.Most difficult to curb was her tendency to be rude to Meffia.This Causidiena noticed at once and set herself to obliterate.Brinnaria unbosomed herself and Causidiena listened sosympathetically that Brinnaria sat silent through the longlecture that followed and was very submissive during a searchinginterrogatory. She promised to comport herself as a Vestalshould.

"But," she said, "I shall suffer. That girl is unpleasant inten thousand ways, but the smell of her is the most unpleasantthing about her. She's been tubbed and scrubbed and massaged andperfumed twice a day ever since I came here and she smells worsethan a polecat, anyhow, all day long, even the moment after hermaid has finished her toilet. A whiff of Meffia sets me frantic.I'd be capable of any crime to get rid of her."

More lecturing followed.

"But it's true!" Brinnaria maintained. "You can't helpsmelling her yourself; she smells like nothing else on earth. Itisn't the smell of a dirty girl or of an ill girl, nor the smellof a girl at all or of any kind of a human being. I can'tdescribe it, but it's a thin sour smell, sharp and shrill likethe note of a cricket, if a sound and a smell can be compared.It's horrible; it's not human."

More lecturing, a long session of lecturing, followed thisoutburst. At the end of it the victim was meek and pliable, or soprofessed herself. For at least five days Brinnaria kept up hereffort to be comradely with Meffia. By the sixth day she wascompletely exhausted and the two avoided each other asbefore.

Agonies indeed Brinnaria suffered in her efforts to live up toCausidiena's ideas of what she should be. On the whole shesucceeded pretty well and committed few errors of deportment.Outwardly she controlled herself from the first; for, before herfirst cowed sensations had worn off, her adoration of Causidienahad gained full sway over her. Yet inwardly she suffered more andmore acutely as time went on, partly feeling that she must burstout in spite of herself, partly dreading that she would.

At last, after many days, she perpetrated her first and mostundignified prank. It was a terrific occurrence, judged by thestandards of the Atrium.

The great peristyle of the House of the Vestals, includingnearly three-fourths of the whole courtyard, was beautified witha splendid double colonnade, two tiers of pillars, one above theother, the lower of delicately mottled Carystian marble wavilyveined with green streaks varying its whiteness, the upper ofcoral-red brecchia. Midway of the court was a tank lined withmarbles and always filled with clear water.

One morning Meffia, walking about the court, in herirritatingly aimless fashion, passed between Brinnaria and theedge of the tank. There was no earthly reason for her so doing,as Brinnaria was barely a yard from the margin of the pool, andon the other side of Brinnaria was the ample expanse of thepavement of the spacious court.

Brinnaria was exasperated by Meffia's proximity, by herlackadaisical manner, by her shambling gait, by her sleep-walkingattitude, most of all by the peculiar thin, sour odor whichMeffia exhaled. At the sight of Meffia's elaborately disagreeabledemeanor of isolation, all Brinnaria's natural self began to boilin her; at the whiff which assailed her nostrils she boiled over,all her uncurbed instincts surging up at once. She put out onefoot and gave Meffia a push.

Meffia, with a squall and a great splash, fell into thetank.

She not only fell in, but she went under the water.

She went under and did not come up.

For an instant Brinnaria thought she was shamming to scareher; but, in a twinkling she realized that Meffia hadfainted.

Promptly she plunged in and rescued her victim.

Numisia, hurrying to the sound of Meffia's squawk, washorrified at the sight of a dripping Vestal toiling up the stepsof the tank carrying over her shoulder another Vestal, equallydripping and limp as a meal-sack, her arms and legs trailinghorribly.

Agitation at Meffia's prolonged insensibility postponedinquiry as to how she came to fall into the tank. It so happenedthat Causidiena first questioned some of the maid-servants, whoall hated Meffia and liked Brinnaria. Therefore the onesinterrogated told a story as much at variance with the facts asthey saw fit.

Brinnaria, after she was again dry-clad, quaked inwardly inanticipation of Causidiena's wrath and suffered a good deal moreat the thought of her pained, silent displeasure. Hours passed,long hours passed and nothing was said on the subject. From noneof her sister Vestals did she hear a word of reproach, not one ofthem behaved towards her any differently from what was usual.

Finally one of the maids enlightened Brinnaria. Promptly shesought a private audience with Causidiena. First she made surethat none of the maids would suffer for their duplicity andpartiality; then she confessed.

The Chief Vestal was not wrathful, not even stern. She talkedmildly and gently, yet made Brinnaria feel very much ashamed ofherself and acutely penitent.

The end of the interview was that Causidiena said:

"You are such a robust child that you do not realize how frailMeffia is. She is perfectly healthy, but is very easily unnervedor exhausted. You have given her such a shock that she is unfitfor duty. Any Vestal is allowed to be ill for two nights and oneday, if the trouble seems trifling. But, if any Vestal is ill fora longer time, she is promptly removed from the Atrium fornursing. I fear that Meffia may not recover within the permittedtime. I am most anxious that there should be as few as possiblecases of recorded illness in the Atrium under my management. Asyou have caused the situation you must help me to avoid what Ifear. Go to Meffia and nurse her out of this and get her aboutto-morrow morning."

"Castor be good to me!" Brinnaria cried. "Smell that girl fora day and a night! Whew! Pretty severe punishment! But I deservethat and worse. And I'll do anything for you, Causidiena."

Meffia hated Brinnaria cordially, yet she found her a deft,tactful and silent nurse. But the very sight of Brinnaria was toher an irritant tonic. She was entirely fit for duty the nextday, not a trace of slackness, unwillingness or sullenness.

Causidiena early made up her mind that Brinnaria's intentionswere good and that she was far from planning her outbursts. Shehad herself no prevision of what was coming, not an inkling ofwhat was about to happen, she blurted out her shocking remarkswithout herself knowing what she was going to say and wasoverwhelmed with confusion when her own ears heard the totallyunexpected words which she had uttered; she contemplated aghastthe havoc she had wrought. Generally she made a pretty fairattempt at demeaning herself as a Vestal should; but, every oncein a while, without warning, something of her old wild selfsurged up in her and the speech was spoken or the actioncompleted before she realized she was about to speak or act atall.

One such freak gave her a sort of notoriety, brought her nameto the lips of every gossip in Rome.

She was as pleased with her privileges as a normal child ofher age with a set of new toys, as warily insistent on them asany aristocrat of her build and appearance.

She learned the precise nature and extent of her prerogativesand did her utmost to enjoy them all. Being an adept at accountsshe ascertained the character of the various estates andinvestments that went to make up the great property which was herjointure as a Vestal, made sure of the exact income from each ofits components, also the total amount; both how far she wasallowed to have her way in spending it and how soon she would befree of supervision in that respect. She made her will before shehad been a Vestal for a month, leaving all her property to Almo,should she die before him; but the whole to the order of Vestalsif he died before her.

Of all her privileges the one she enjoyed most was the rightto drive where she pleased through the city in her privatecarriage, with her lictor running ahead and clearing the way forit. Carriage-driving within the city limits was restricted inRome by severe regulations rigorously enforced.* Ordinarytravelling carriages might use only the great main thoroughfaresleading to the city gates. The owner of one, unless he happenedto live on one of those chief arteries of the traffic, might notstep from his house door into his carriage but must have ithalted at some point on the permitted avenues and must reach iton foot or by litter. But there was no street or alley in Romewide enough for a carriage which a Vestal might not drivethrough; a. Vestal might drive anywhere. Brinnaria was firsttaken out driving by Causidiena and Numisia, then by the othersin succession. Driving with Meffia was no pleasure to her, but itwas the etiquette of the order that each Vestal in turn shouldoffer the courtesy of her carriage to a new member of thesisterhood.

*In fact, wheeled vehicles except for those of the Emperor andthe Vestals were forbidden in the city during the daytime.

After that formality had been complied with Brinnaria waspermitted to drive where she pleased, with what guest she chose,or accompanied only by her official companion or by her maid.Systematically she drove everywhere, once alone with her maid,once with each of the other Vestals, often with her mother, oftenwith Flexinna. It gave her great pleasure to drive up the longzigzag approach to the Capitol, where no human being save theVestals and the Empress might be driven, and where few Empresseshad ever ventured to drive, to have her carriage halted beforethe great Temple of Jupiter, Juno and Minerva, where no carriageexcept the carriages of the Vestals had been seen for more than ahundred years, to enter the temple and say her prayers. It gaveher even more pleasure to take her mother or Flexinna with her,as was her privilege; to make them sharers in her right to bedriven to Rome's chief temple, to which all other Romans, eventhe Emperors, must walk or be carried by litter-bearers.

She discovered another privilege of her position. Roman womenof the better classes never went out of doors alone. On thestreets a lady, if not companioned by one or more equals, wasalways accompanied by a maid-servant. This had been the customfrom time immemorial and had come to have the force of a morallaw. The sight of a woman of wealth and position entirely alonein her carriage would have been startling, to see a lady in herlitter without a maid walking behind the bearers would have beenshocking: the spectacle of a lady alone on foot would have givenscandal.

But, by some survival of the simplicity of the manners inthose primitive days in which the order originated, the Vestalswere exceptions to this mandatory fashion. A Vestal might nevergo abroad on foot, except in one of the solemn processions. But,in her litter or her carriage, she might go anywhere in Romeunaccompanied, protected only by her lictor and her bearers orcoachman. This privilege, like many others, marked the Vestals asbeing apart from and exalted above the rest of woman-kind.

As soon as Brinnaria learned that she possessed this right sheproceeded to exercise it. Though she felt lonesome when drivingalone and enjoyed her outing far more when she had a companion,yet she drove alone day after day, merely because it was herprerogative. So driving she had, in one day, two thrillingexperiences. She had told her coachman to drive where he pleasedand hardly noticed where she was being driven.

Suddenly turning from a side street into one of the mainthoroughfares of the city, she encountered the co-Emperor LuciusVerus with his official escort. It was during the busy dayspreceding his departure for Antioch and his great campaignagainst the Parthians. Verus, roused from his devotion to sportand pleasure, was feverish with enthusiasm and full of mercurialenergy. He bustled in and out of Rome, inspecting camps,presiding at ceremonials and keeping everything in a ferment.

That day he was returning from an inspection amid a large andgorgeous retinue. Brinnaria had a blurred vision of splendiduniforms and dazzling accoutrements. Her vision was blurredbecause her eyes filled with tears; she turned hot and cold andalmost fainted with emotion, when the Emperor's twenty-fourlictors lowered their fasces, the whole procession halted, theescort and the Emperor himself swerved their horses aside to lether pass and remained at the salute until she had passed. Thesudden realization of the importance of her official positionoverwhelmed her.

As she drove on, when she recovered herself, she meditated onthe experience, and told herself that she must live up to herexalted station, that she must never, never, never for such asone instant, forget herself or behave otherwise than as became aVestal. On the very same drive, before she returned to theAtrium, she completely forgot herself.

It was a hot, sultry afternoon and it suited her coachman todrive homeward along the Subura, that thronged and unsavoryBowery of ancient Rome. Three street urchins were teasing andmaltreating a rough coated, muddy little cur. Brinnaria calledimperiously to her lictor to interfere. He was too far ahead tohear her. Her coachman had all he could do to control hermettlesome span of Spanish mares. She spoke to the boys and theylaughed at her. Before she knew it she had flung open hercarriage door, had leapt out, had cuffed soundly the ears of thethree dumbfounded gamins, and was back among her cushions, thedog in her arms.

This escapade brought upon her a visit from the Pontifex ofVesta, the semi-globular Faltonius Bambilio, diffusing pomposity.From him she had to listen to a long lecture on deportment and toa reading of the minutes of the meeting of the College ofPontiffs which had discussed her public misbehavior.

VI. — NOTORIETY

WITHIN a month she did far worse. Sheperpetrated, in fact, a deed with the fame of which not only thecity, but the Empire rang; made herself notorious everywhere.

It was on the occasion of her introductory visit to theColosseum when, for the first time, she was a spectator at anexhibition of fighting gladiators. She was in a high-strung stateof elation and anticipation. Going to the Amphitheatre, initself, was a soul-stirring experience. Meffia, to Brinnaria'sjoy, had been on duty that day, along with Numisia. This alonewas enough to put Brinnaria in a good humor. Meffia's presencespoiled for her any sort of pleasure. Then, besides, they droveto the Colosseum, not in their light carriages, but two by two intheir gorgeous state coaches, huge vehicles, of which thewoodwork was elaborately carved and heavily gilded and whosecushions and curtains were all of that splendid official color,the imperial purple. The name conveys to us a false impression,for the hue known then as imperial purple was not what we shouldcall a purple, but a deep, dark crimson, like the tint of claretin a goblet. Against a background of this magnificent color, theVestals, habited all in white, showed conspicuously. Theirstately progress through the streets, gazed at and pointed at bythe admiring crowds, was conducive to high spirits. Still more sowas it to be ushered obsequiously through cool corridors and upcarpeted stairs to the Vestals' private loge, a roomy spaceimmediately to the right of the imperial pavilion. To be insidethe Colosseum at last set her eyes dancing and her heartthumping; the anticipation of actually viewing the countlessfights of many hundreds of gladiators increased her excitement;to be seated in front seats, with nothing but the carved stonecoping between her and the arena was most exhilarating of all.She was delighted with her great, carved arm-chair, deeplycushioned and so heavy that it was as firm on its solid oak legsas if bolted to the stone floor. She settled herself in itluxuriously, gazed across the smooth yellow sand, glanced up atthe gay, parti-colored awning, and then conned the vast audience,line after line of rose-crowned heads rising tier above tier allabout her.

She scanned the faces in the front row to left and right asfar as she could make them out clearly. She peered across theopen space of the arena, puckering her eyes to see better. Whenshe caught sight of what she was looking for she turned timidly,leaned past Manlia and asked Causidiena:

"May I wave my hand to mother?"

"Certainly, my child," Causidiena assured her.

Brinnaria waved her little hand and was seen, and felt thethrill of a general family handwaving in reply.

Suddenly she experienced a qualm of bashfulness, as if everyone in the enormous gathering were looking at her, watching her.She cast down her eyes, wrapped her white robe close about her,hiding her hands under it, and shrank into her arm-chair. For awhile, for a long while, she fanned herself nervously, veryslowly, and striving to appear calm. Gradually she became calmand laughed to herself at her own folly, realizing that nobodywas noticing her.

Nobody noticed her. Many spectators noticed the Vestals, butno one noticed her individually. This she realized acutely beforethe day was over.

At about the time when she began to feel herself at ease theentrance of the Emperor and his suite distracted her attentionfrom herself. When the trumpet blew, announcing the approach ofthe Imperial party, a hush fell on the vast audience and all eyesturned towards the grand pavilion. When the trumpet blew thesecond time, just before the Emperor came in sight, the hushdeepened and the spectators watched intently. When his headappeared as he mounted the stairs the audience burst into theshort, sharply staccato song of welcome, something like atuneful, sing-song college yell, with which Roman crowds greetedtheir master. This vocal salute, a mere tag of eight or ninesyllables, each with its distinctive note, was repeated over andover until the Emperor was seated.

Then the audience settled themselves into their seats.Brinnaria had instinctively started to rise when she caught sightof the Emperor. Manlia had put out a restraining hand. TheVestals, alone of all Romans, remained seated in the presence ofthe Emperor, not even rising when he appeared.

Marcus Aurelius was a tall, spare man of over forty years ofa*ge, with abundant hair curling in long ringlets over his chestand shoulders, and a full beard mingling with the carefullydisposed curls. He was a serious-faced man, careworn andsolemn.

Brinnaria regarded him with interest. She had never seen himso close and she felt a sudden fellow-feeling for him from thesense of semi-equality with him that flooded through her athaving remained seated. She recalled vividly the half-dozen timesshe had watched from balconies the passage of processions inwhich the Emperor took part, how her mother had made her stand upthe moment he came in sight and had kept her standing until hewas far away. Her sudden exaltation in social position was bornein upon her with startling emphasis. Not even her carriage rideshad impressed her so tellingly with the sensation of her ownimportance in the great world of Imperial Rome.

"How does he look to you?" Manlia asked. They were seated inthe order of their seniority, Causidiena on the right, thenGargilia, Manlia next Brinnaria.

"He looks crushed under his responsibilities and anxieties,"Brinnaria replied. "He looks depressed, even sad."

"He is all that, poor man," her neighbor agreed, "and nowonder in these days. The Parthians are at us on the east, theGermans in the north, and there have been more than twelve deathsin the palace each day for twenty consecutive days now. Thispestilence is enough to make anybody sad."

"More than that," Brinnaria countered. "He looks irritated andbored. Everybody else is alert and keyed up with anticipation.His eyes are dull and he looks as if he wished that the show wasover and he could go home."

"You have read him right," Manlia told her. "He detests allkinds of spectacles, takes no interest in races and hates beast-fights. Most of all he loathes gladiatorial combats. Father hastold me about it more than once and Causidiena says the samething. I can't understand it. I never get tired of sword-fighting, myself. What I like about it is its endless variety. Inever saw any two fights exactly alike, never saw two closelyalike. Each fight is a spectacle by itself, entirely differentfrom any other. I don't mean the difference between the fightersin respect to their equipment and appearance, though thatcontributes to the variety also; I mean the difference inposture, method of defense and attack, style of lunge and parry,and all that; and the countless variations in form in the men,the subtle differences of character which makes them face similarsituations so very differently. You'll get the feeling for it ina half a dozen shows and be as keen on it as the rest of us.

"But the Emperor is different. Perhaps it's because he is sucha booky man and spends so much time in reading and study. But Ithink not. There never was anybody more of a bookworm thanNumisia and she is as wild over the shows as any street-boy inRome. Anyhow, whatever the cause is, that is the way he is. Hewas more than surfeited with shows before he was Emperor. Whilehe was nothing but a boy, soon after he was adopted and madeCaesar, he often had to preside in the Circus or here, whenHadrian was away travelling and Antonius and Verus were on thefrontiers. He used to bring his tutors with him and have two ofthem sit on each side of him a little behind him. Then, after theshows had started, he would put a tablet on his knee and write atheme or work out a problem in geometry and when he had finishedit, would pass it to one of his tutors for comment, or he wouldhave them make out sets of questions on history or something elseand he would write out the answers the best he could. Sometimeshe would read. All this he did as calmly as if he were alone in aclosed room with nothing to call off his attention. Yet he wasmost careful to seem to watch the shows and would look up everylittle while and gaze about the arena. But nothing everdistracted him from his lessons. That is the kind he is. Hesimply never cared for this sort of thing. He says that whatoppresses him is the maddening monotony of gladiatorial shows.Fancy anybody thinking sword-fighting monotonous! But he does. Hesays every combat is just like every other. All he sees in afight is two men facing each other and one being killed. He getsno thrills from the uncertainties of the outcome, no pleasurefrom the dexterity and skill of the fighters. To him it's justbutchery, and the same kind of butchery over and over. He says hemight get some enjoyment out of a show if something novel wouldhappen, something he never saw before, something unexpected. Butnothing ever does."

Brinnaria regarded curiously this grave, earnest man, whoderived so little pleasure from the most coveted position onearth. She continued to watch him until everybody turned to theprocession around the arena of all who were to fight that day,the invariable preliminary of a gladiatorial show and always asplendid spectacle. When the fights began Brinnaria felt at firstan unexpected tightening of the chest, as if a band were beingdrawn tight just under her armpits. Her breath came short andhard and her heart thumped her ribs.

The first sight of blood made her feel faint and the horriblecontortions just below her of a dying man, who writhed in strongconvulsions like a fish out of water, made her qualmish and sick.But all that soon passed off. She was a Roman and the Romans wereprofessional killers, had been professional killers for athousand years. Success in hand to hand combat with anyindividual foe was every male Roman's ideal of the crowning gloryof human life; the thought of it was in every Roman's mind fromearly childhood, every act of life was a preparation for it.Their wives and sisters shared their enthusiasm for fighting andtheir daughters inherited the instinct. Combat on the field ofbattle was felt as the chief business of a man, to which allother activities merely led up. By reflected light, as it were,every kind of combat acquired a glamour in the thoughts of aRoman. The idea of men killing men, of men being killed by men,was familiar to all Romans, of whatever sex or age. Brinnaria wasnot affected as a modern girl would be by the sight of blood orof death. The novelty revolted her at first, but only briefly.Soon she was absorbed in the interest of the fighting.

Almost at once her eye was caught by a young and handsomefighter who reminded her strongly of Almo.

His adversary was that kind of gladiator known technically asa secutor, a burly ruffian in complete armor, with huge shin-guards like jack-boots, a kilt of broad leather straps hanging intwo overlapping rows, the upper set plated with bronze scales, abronze corselet, and, fitting closely to his shoulders, coveringhead and neck together, a great, heavy helmet. He carried a largeshield, squarish in shape, but curving to fit him as if he werehiding behind a section of the outer bark of a big tree. He wasarmed with a keen, straight bladed Spanish sword.

Facing this portentous tower of metal was a gladiator of thesort known as a retiarius, equipped solely with a long-handled,slender-shafted trident, like a fisherman's eel-spear, and avoluminous, wide-meshed net of thin cord. His only clothing was ascanty body-piece of bright blue. His feet were small with high-arched insteps. Brinnaria particularly noticed his perfectlyshaped toes. His bare legs, body and arms were in everyproportion the perfection of form, the supple muscles ripplingexquisitely under his warm tanned skin. His face was almostbeautiful, with a round chin, thin curled lips, a straight nose,and a wide brow. Its expression was lively, even merry, almostroguish, his lips parted in an alert smile, his blue eyessparkling. He seemed to enjoy the game in which he was engaged,to be brimming over with self-confidence, to anticipate success,to relish his foretaste of combat with a sort of impishdelight.

Roman children heard as much talk of gladiators as modernchildren hear of baseball or cricket. Brinnaria knew perfectlywell that the betting on a set-to between such a pair wascustomarily five to three against the secutor and on theretiarius. Yet she felt the sensation usual with onlookers insuch a case, the sensation purposed by the device of pairing menso differently equipped, the sensation that the mailed secutorwas invincible and the naked retiarius helpless against him. Shewas keyed up with interest.

In fact the combat was interesting. The secutor, of course,could have disposed of his antagonist in a trice, if he had onlybeen able to reach him. But a clumsy, heavy secutor never couldreach a nimble, agile retiarius. The one Brinnaria was watchingwas more than usually light-footed and skipped about hisadversary in a taunting, teasing way. Again and again he cast hisnet intentionally too short, merely to show how easily he couldrecover it and escape his opponent's onset. He danced, capered,pretended to be lame and that he could not avoid being overtaken,led his pursuer on, out-manoeuvred him, derided him; twice helunged through the flapping straps of his kilt and grazed histhigh. The secutor was barely scratched, but his blood trickleddown his shin-guard and he was limping.

Then, all in a flash, the retiarius pirouetted too rashly,slipped on ton the sand, fell sprawling, failed to rise in time,and was slashed deeply all down one calf. He rolled over in alast effort to escape, but the secutor kicked him in the ribsand, before he could recover, sent the trident spinning with asecond kick and set his foot upon his victim's neck. So standinghe rolled his eyes over that part of the audience nearest him todiscover whether it was the pleasure of the lookers-on that thedefeated man should be killed or spared.

Now it so happened that nearly all the spectators in that partof the audience were watching a far more exciting contest fartherout in the arena, where two Indian elephants, each manned by acrew of five picked men, were clashing in a terrific struggle Noone, except Brinnaria, had any eyes for the plight of the youngretiarius below them The secutor beheld indifferent faces gazingover his head The few thumbs he could see pointed outward.Brinnaria, to be sure, was holding out her right arm, thumb flat,and doing her best to attract the secutor's attention. Shefailed. He glanced, indeed, at the Vestals, but as three of themsat impassive he missed Brinnaria's imperious gesture. Heprepared to put his foe to death. First, however, he lookedfurther along the front rows to make sure that he had thepermission of the general audience, since the occupants of theImperial box and of the Vestals loge seemed to ignore him.

Brinnaria perceived that he would probably not look again inher direction; that as soon as his roving eyes came back fromtheir unhurried survey of the audience, he would deliver thefatal blow. She quickly knotted the corner of her robe to the armof her chair, squirmed out of it, and threw it over the parapet.The robe of a Roman lady was sleeveless and seamless, rather likea very long pair of very thin blankets, all in one piece. Tied,as she had tied it, by one corner, it made a sort of rope as ithung. She had acted so quickly that no one noticed her, not evenManlia, who sat next her, staring fascinatedly at the spectacleof the wrestling elephants and their warring crews.

Grasping her robe firmly with both hands, escaping by ahair's-breadth the despairing clutch of the horrified Manlia,Brinnaria half vaulted, half rolled over the parapet, swungsailor-fashion to the rope her robe formed, went down it, handover hand, raced across the sand and faced the victorioussecutor.

He, although a foreigner and a savage, had been long enough inRome to know perfectly what a Vestal was and he recoiled from herin a panic no less than he would have felt had the goddess Vestaherself come down from the sky to balk him of his prey.

The next instant no one was regarding the death-struggle ofthe elephants, nor any other of the scores of fights ended,ending, under way or just begun. Every human being in theaudience was staring at the amazing spectacle of a Vestal virgin,clad only in her thin, clinging tunic, standing over a fallenretiarius and facing an appalled and dumbfounded secutor.

The place fell very still. So still that the shrill voice of astreet-gamin, a boy from the Via Sacra, was audible throughoutthe vast enclosure from gallery to gallery. He yelled in hiscutting falsetto: "Good for you, Sis!"

But his neighbors silenced him at once and not even any otherragamuffin lifted his voice. The audience were startled mute.They were quite ready to applaud the girl's daring, but theshocking impropriety of her breach of decorum struck themdumb.

The Emperor, roused from his meditations by the sudden hush,looked about him for the cause of it and saw the situation. Heleaned forward, arm out, thumb flat against the extended fingers.The secutor sheathed his sword.

Manlia, with great presence of mind, untied the dangling robeand dropped it over the parapet. One of the arena attendantscarried it to Brinnaria and she put it on. But she would not stirand stood straddling the fallen lad until one of the Emperor'saides came out of one of the low doors in the arena-wall, crossedto her and assured her that the defeated retiarius would bespared and cared for. Then she suffered herself to be led back toher seat, by way of the door in the wall and passages and stairsnever meant for any Vestal to tread.

Not until they saw Brinnaria move off in charge of the staff-officer did the audience let loose their pent-up feelings. Theplace pulsated with a roar like that of a great waterfall in adeep gorge, salvo after salvo of cheers swelling and merging. Thedeep boom of their applause pursued Brinnaria and made her cower.The people would never forget her now. They were in ecstasy. Shewas their darling.

VII. — AUDIENCE

ON the drive homeward from that unforgettablegladiatorial exhibition Manlia and Gargilia shared the secondstate coach: in the first sat Brinnaria by Causidiena.

"My child," Causidiena queried, "what ever made you doit?"

"I don't know," Brinnaria replied. "I did it before Ithought."

"Well!" said her elder philosophically. "It is done now andcannot be helped. But please try to remember that a Vestal isexpected to control herself at all times, never to act withoutforethought, to reflect long before she acts, to do nothingunusual, to be very sure in each instance that what she is aboutto do is wholly becoming to a Vestal."

"I'll keep on trying," Brinnaria replied mutinously, "but Iwas not constructed to be a Vestal. I always knew it; I know itnow and I am afraid I'll continue my blundering through theconventions. I'm built that way."

She had to endure a second long lecture from FaltoniusBambilio. She listened submissively enough, but vouchsafed notone word of self-defence, rejoinder or comment; and, when urgedto speak, she was obstinately silent.

"My daughter," Faltonius droned at her, "remember that, sinceyour entrance into the order of Vestals, I stand to you in therelation of parent to his own child. You should confide in me asin your spiritual father."

"I should do nothing of the kind," Brinnaria refuted him. "Iknow the statutes of the order better than that. Up to the daysof the Divine Augustus, the Pontifex Maximus inhabited the housenext to the house of the Vestals and stood in the closestrelation of fatherhood towards them. But since he went to live onthe Palatine and made us a present of his house we have occupiedall this Atrium which was built in the place of the two houses.Since then no one has been in the same intimate relation ofcontrol over us. The Emperors have always held the office ofPontifex Maximus and as such each Emperor has been the spiritualfather of the Vestals. The Emperor is my spiritual father and youare not."

"Your self-opinionated talk does you little credit," Faltoniusretorted. "Since you know so much you must know also that formany years each Emperor has designated some priest as Pontifex ofVesta to be his deputy and to stand in the closest relation ofparental oversight towards the members of your consecrated order;I am that deputy."

"I have no desire to confide in a deputy," Brinnaria told him,"or to consider the deputy as my real spiritual father. If I feelinclined to confide I'll make my confidences to my genuinespiritual father, not to his understrapper."

Bambilio was piqued and spoke sourly.

"The Emperor," he said, "will be far from pleased with myreport of you."

"It will make no difference to me or to him what you report orwhether you make any report or not," spoke Brinnaria. "I'm goingto have a talk with him myself."

"Doubtless," Bambilio meditated. "He has sent for you torebuke you."

"He has done nothing of the kind," she retorted vigorously."He has more sense. And if he had sent for me I should not havegone. I know my rights. If he wanted to talk to me, he'd have tocome to me here. But as, in this case, I wanted to talk to him, Ihave asked for an audience and the day and the hour have beenfixed. I am to have an audience to-morrow morning. And now, as Iam to talk to him myself, I see no reason why I should spend moretime being bored by his deputy. If you please, I should beobliged if you would terminate this interview."

Astounded and dumb, Faltonius bowed himself out.

Causidiena suggested that she accompany Brinnaria on her visitto the Palace.

"It would be lovely to have you with me," Brinnaria said, "andI am ever so grateful for your offer. You are a dear and I loveyou. I shall want you and wish for you all the way there, all thetime I am there and all the way back. I shall be scared to death.But I must go alone. In the first place it is my right, if I wereonly six years old, to have audience with the Emperor alonewhenever I ask for it and as often as I ask for it. I am notgoing to abate an iota of my rights merely for my own comfort. Inthe second place, I must go through this unhelped and unsupportedall by myself. I know it; I must fight it out alone and comethrough alone. He'll be sympathetic, if I deserve it. If I don'tdeserve sympathy from him I don't deserve it from you, nor yourcompany and your countenance, either."

Scared Brinnaria was, but even through her worst qualms ofpanic she was uplifted by an elating sense of her own importance.Not her encounter with Verus and his retinue, not her havingremained seated when Aurelius entered the Colosseum had sopoignantly made her realize how exalted was a Vestal. She droveto the Palace alone, not in her light carriage, but in her hugestate coach, feeling very small in her white robes amid all thatcrimson upholstery, but also feeling herself a very greatpersonage.

Her reception at the Palace made her feel even more so. Themagnificence of the courtyard in which her coach came to astandstill, the ceremonial of turning out the guard in her honor,the formality with which she was conducted from corridor tocorridor and from hail to hail, the immensity and gorgeousness ofthe vast audience hall in which she was finally left alone withthe Emperor; all these did not so much overwhelm her as exalther. She felt herself indeed a princess.

The Emperor greeted Brinnaria kindly, was as sympathetic aspossible and put her at her ease at once. He soothed her, madeher seat herself comfortably and said:

"Don't worry about what you have done. You are certainly themost startling Vestal since Gegania, but you have really donenothing actually wrong. So do not agitate yourself about whatcannot be altered. The question which concerns me is, what willyou do next?"

"I think," said Brinnaria, "that the next thing I shall dowill be to procure a good strong rope and hang myself."

"My child," the shocked Emperor exclaimed, "you really shouldnot speak so flippantly of so dreadful an idea!"

"I'm not a particle flippant this time," Brinnaria declared."I know I am often flippant, but not now, not a bit. I am just asserious as life and death. I have thought of nothing but suicidesince Trebellius conducted me back to my seat. I can't get theidea out of my head and that is why I have come to you."

"Tell me all about it from the beginning," the Emperor said,comfortingly. "What put the notion into your head?"

"In the beginning," said Brinnaria, "you know that I didn'twant to be a Vestal."

"Yes, I know," he assured her.

"Well," she went on, "now I am a Vestal and must serve out mythirty years, I'm really trying to do my best to be all I oughtto be. I really am. I've tried hard to be sedate and grave andcollected and reticent and slow-spoken, and all the rest of it.And I think I haven't done badly most of the time. But after all,I'm myself and I can't be changed. Every once in a while myselfboils up in me under the scum of convention I've spread on top ofthe cauldron, so to speak. I don't mean to let go and be naturaland spontaneous. I've done the awful thing before I know I'mgoing to do it. I didn't mean to pour the pork gravy over oldGubba's head; but she looked so funny I just did it withoutknowing what I was going to do. I didn't mean to throw Manlia'spet monkey out of the window on to Moccilo's head. But her shockof red curls looked to be just the place on which to drop littleDito, and I dropped Dito before I thought. It's just the same wayabout all the other dreadful things I do. I don't mean to dothem, but I do do them."

"Don't worry," the Emperor said, "you'll outgrow allthat."

"I trust I may," Brinnaria sighed, "but how about the harm I'mdoing as I go along?"

"You haven't done any harm, not any harm that matters," theEmperor soothed her.

"Are you perfectly sure of that?" she persisted. "If you couldmake me perfectly sure of that, I should feel a great dealbetter. Are you sure?"

"I can't see any real harm in your pranks," the Emperor said."I certainly should not encourage you to continue or repeat suchconduct or to revert to it, but I see no real harm in it."

"You think I have not unfitted myself for my duties?"

The Emperor meditated.

"To a certainty," he said, "if your conduct was intentional,if you thought up these pranks of yours and perpetrated them,with deliberate consciousness of what you were about to do, Ishould hold you gravely unfitted for your position. But you aremanifestly sincere in your efforts to be all you ought to be andare trying genuinely to overcome your tendencies and to outgrowyour coltishness. I am of the opinion that, if you curb yourselffrom now on, you have done no harm."

"Do you think," Brinnaria insisted, "that if you called ameeting of all the colleges of pontiffs and put the question tothem, that they would make the same answer you have made?"

"You amazing child!" Aurelius exclaimed. "Why should youassume the attitude of advocate against yourself" Why suggest asynod to discuss your conduct and express an official opinion onit? Is not my opinion enough? Even if I saw fit to call a synodand all the members of it held the same views and expressed themnever so cogently, do you not realize that, if my views werecontrary to theirs, it would be my view that would prevail; thatit would not only be my privilege and my right but my imperativeduty to override any opposition and to enforce my decision? Areyou not satisfied with the opinions of the man who is at onceEmperor and Chief Pontifex of Rome?"

"But," Brinnaria persisted, "I am not at all sure that you arespeaking as Emperor and Chief Pontifex. To me you seem to speakas a kindly husband and father very sympathetic towards anotherman's little daughter who comes to you in deep trouble ofspirit."

"You amazing child!" the Emperor repeated. "You talk as if youwere forty years old. Tell me precisely what is troubling you,for I must have failed to fathom it, and be sure I shall replyofficially as Emperor and Pontifex."

"What troubles me," said Brinnaria, "is the dread that my wildand tomboyish behavior may be as displeasing to the Goddess ascoquettishness or wantonness. I am in terror for fear myministrations may be unpleasant to her, may be sacrilegious, maynot only fail to win her blessing upon Rome but may draw down hercurse upon all of us. I never thought of that until I stood thereall alone out in the arena, astraddle of that beautiful boy whomI just had to save, feeling all of a sudden horribly naked in myone thin, clinging undergarment, with two hundred thousand eyesstaring at me. It came over me with a rush that I was not onlynever going to be fit for a Vestal but that I wasn't fit for aVestal and I hadn't been fit for a Vestal; that I not only wasgoing to do harm, not only was doing harm, but had done harm. Ifthe Parthians are devastating the frontier along the Euphratesand the Marcommani and the Quadi are storming the outposts alongthe Danube and the Rhine, perhaps that is because my presence inthe Atrium is an offence in the eyes of Vesta, my prayers anaffront to my Goddess, my care of her altar-fire an insult toher. I tremble to think of it. And I cannot get it out of myhead. I wake up in the dark and think of it and it keeps meawake, sometimes, longer than I ever lay awake in the dark in mylife. It scares me. I am a Vestal to bring prosperity and gloryto the Empire, to pray prayers that will surely be answered.Suppose the Goddess is deaf to my prayers because I am unworthyto pray to her? Suppose that my prayers infuriate her because Iam vile in her sight? Suppose I am causing disaster to theEmpire? I keep thinking all that. Do you wonder that I think ofsuicide, of hanging myself, like the two Oculatas?"

"My child!" Aurelius cut in. "You have not done anything thatjustifies your comparing yourself to the Oculata sisters."

"We'll come back to that later," Brinnaria replied. "Just nowlet us stick to the point. Do you think my fears justified ornot?"

"Decidedly not," the Emperor rejoined, without an instant'shesitation, "and I speak not as a soft-hearted parent who seesthe soul of his own daughter looking at him out of the eyes ofevery little girl whose heart troubles her, I speak as theguardian of the interests of the Empire, as the warder of thedestinies of Rome.

"Your misbehavior has certainly been grave, I admit; and, ifdone maliciously, would entail all the harm you imagine. But theGoddess can see not only your actions but your thoughts. Yourscruples do you high credit. I will not say you are as pleasingto the Goddess as would be a grave and sedate ministrant, but Ido solemnly decide and declare that you need have no furtherdread of any past, present or future harm to the Empire or toRome from your past behavior, if you honestly try to err no more.This is my official decision. Be at peace in your heart."

Brinnaria drew a deep breath.

"You certainly comfort me," she said, "but I just know I'llboil over again and not once, but many times."

"Vesta will comprehend," he said, "if your derelictions areless and less frequent and less and less violent; if you succeeda little better from month to month and from year to year. Shewill not be pleased with your lapses, if you lapse again, but shewill be pleased at your struggles with yourself and with yourgood intentions. She will smile upon your ministrations andhearken to your petitions. Be comforted."

"I am," said Brinnaria, "as far as that trifle goes, but nowwe come to my real and chief concern. Suppose I am as detestablein the sight of my Goddess as the Oculata sisters were, and for asimilar reason; suppose I ought to hang myself as dead as theyhanged themselves. Oughtn't I, then, to hang myself?"

"You incredible creature! " Aurelius cried. "I've met women bythe thousand, by the tens of thousands, but never a girl likeyou. What do you mean? What can you mean? You cannot mean whatyou seem to mean. Explain yourself. Be explicit. Tell me allabout what is troubling you. I'll understand and put your mind atease."

"I trust you may," Brinnaria sighed, "but I dread that youcannot. I mean just what I seem to mean."

"Impossible!" the Emperor cried, "a child of ten, but a fewmonths out of her mother's care and those few months in the careof Causidiena! And I wouldn't believe it of you if you were twiceyour age."

"Oh," said Brinnaria, "I haven't acted like Caparronia and thetwo Oculatas, and I shouldn't if I were never so much left tomyself. But you said yourself that Vesta can read my thoughts andI knew that without your telling me so. Suppose that my thoughtsare as abominable in the sight of my Goddess as was the behaviorof those three unfortunates? Oughtn't I to hang myself and bedone with myself?"

"Indubitably," said the Emperor, "if the facts were as yourwords imply. But you are just frightening yourself to death withvapors like a child afraid of its own shadow. Be explicit, bedefinite, and I can put you at peace with yourself at once andpermanently."

Brinnaria drew a deep breath.

"To begin with," she said, "you know that, before I was takenfor a Vestal, I was plighted to Caius Segontius Almo."

"Certainly, I knew that," Aurelius replied. "All Rome knew ofhis ride from Falerii and of his arriving just too late."

"You knew I was in love with him?"

"I assumed that," the Emperor told her.

"Well," she said, a pathetic break in her voice, "I can't makemyself stop loving Almo. I always have loved him, I always shall,I love him now."

"I assumed that too," the Emperor said. "All Rome knows of hisresolve to remain unmarried, to wait thirty years for you, tomarry you the very day you are free. I assumed that he would notbe so constant unless he believed you equally constant. No harmin that! You have a right to marry at the end of your service anda right to look forward to it."

"That is what troubles me," Brinnaria said. "I cannot feelthat I have a right to look forward to it."

"Now listen to me," said the Emperor. "Few Vestals have leftthe Atrium at the end of their thirty years. Not every one thathas left has married, the third Terentia withdrew at the end ofher term and did not marry, nor did the only Licinia who evercompleted her service. But Appellasia married and so did Quetoniaand Seppia. Others have married after their service, though it isthought unlucky. The right to leave the order implies the rightto marry after leaving. The right to leave implies the right tomean to leave, to plan to leave, to look forward to leaving andmarrying. You have that right, like any other Vestal. Does thatsatisfy you?"

"It does not," Brinnaria asserted. "I know a Vestal has aright to leave and marry and to plan to leave and marry. But,after thirty years of service, or nearly thirty years of service,to plan to leave and marry and to look forward to it for a fewdays or months appear to me very different from looking forwardto it from the first hour of my service, and knowing not onlythat I mean to marry, but just the man I mean to marry, andloving him all the time, and longing for him. I can't help it; Ifeel that way, and I dread that I am not an acceptable ministrantand I tremble for fear of the consequences to you and to Rome. Ithink I ought to hang myself and be done with it. You haven'tcomforted me a bit."

The Emperor stood up.

"Sit still! " he commanded, sharply.

He paced up and down the huge audience hail; paced its fulllength three times each way.

Then he reseated himself.

"Do you sleep soundly?" he queried.

"Like a top, mostly," said Brinnaria. "I go to sleep theinstant I put my head on the pillow. Generally I sleep all nightlong until my maid wakes me up in the morning. Many nights, butnot every night, nor most nights, I wake up with a dreadfulstart, as if I had had a nightmare, and lie there quaking forfear I am ruining Rome. But even then I generally go to sleepagain pretty quick."

"Do you think of Almo when you wake up in the dark?" hepursued.

"Mighty little," she declared. "In the dark all I can think ofis Rome and my duty. I often reflect how immediately and howgreatly being taken for a Vestal changes a girl and alters, notonly her outlook on life and her ways of thinking, but also herfeelings. It has cooled and steadied me more than I could havebelieved. When Daddy quarrelled with Segontius and told me hewould not let me marry Caius I used to feel as if I were going tosuffocate, used to feel that way sometimes for hours at a time,used to suffer horribly, used to wake up in the dark and feel asif, if I could not get to Almo right then, at once, I should die,as if I should be choked to death by the thumping of my heart. Iused to feel that way at dinner, when out visiting any time ofday, for hours. I never feel that way now. And after Daddy andSegontius made up their quarrel and it was arranged that I was tomarry Almo, I used to feel as if it would kill me to wait fouryears, I used to grit my teeth to think of it, of waiting fouryears for him; used to think of it an day long, no matter what Iwas doing. And I used to wake up in the dark and roll round inbed and bite the bed-clothes with rage at the thought of the longwaiting ahead of me. I wanted Almo the way you want a drink, justbefore noon of a hot day, when you have been travelling sincebefore sunrise and the carriage creaks and jolts and the road isall dusty and there is no wind and you feel as if you wouldrather die than go any longer without a drink. I used to wantthat way to be married to Almo.

"I never feel that way now. I want him and I want to bemarried to him, but I look forward to it as I look forward to thenext race-day at the Circus or the next fight of gladiators atthe Colosseum, as a desirable and delightful time sure to comebut by no means to be hurried, as something I can very well dowithout until the time comes. The thought of Almo is alwayssomewhere back in my mind ready to come forward when I havenothing else to think of. But I think of him placidly and calmlyand never when on duty nor when at my lessons nor when at meals.And at night, never."

"My daughter," said Aurelius, smiling at her, "listen well tome. I speak as Chief Pontifex and as Emperor of Rome. I commandyou to forget your qualms and to banish your fears. Officially asChief Pontifex I judge you a ministrant most acceptable to yourGoddess, as a most fit and suitable Vestal. I judge that no girlnaturally austere, frigid and self-contained could be half sopleasing to Vesta as a tempestuous child like you who curbs hertemper and schools her outward behavior all she can in the effortto be all she ought to be; whose feelings even tame themselveswithout any effort of hers in the holy atmosphere of theAtrium.

"Manifestly you are telling the truth about your acts, yourimpulses and your thoughts, 1 judge you a pure-minded, clean-hearted Vestal, most suitable for her duties. Vesta understandsand is glad of your good intentions and pleased with yourstruggles to master yourself. You are most acceptable to her. Youwill bring no curses on Rome, but your prayers will be heard andyou will bring many blessings on the Empire. Be comforted!"

"I am," said Brinnaria simply, "and I shall staycomforted."

BOOK II. — THE REVOLT OFDESPONDENCY

VIII. — SCOURGING

AFTER her audience with the Emperor, Brinnariafelt more at peace with herself, succeeded better in curbing hernative wildness, incurred less and less disapprobation and wonincreasingly the respect and affection of her elders. Heroutbursts were less frequent and less violent; she learned tohold her tongue, to appear calm, to stand with dignity, to movewith deliberation. Her admiration for Causidiena and Numisia andof their statuesque attitudes and queenly movements helped her agreat deal by both conscious and unconscious imitation. It helpedher more to find that she was succeeding better than Meffia. Atfirst Brinnaria had been notably more prone than Meffia to assumegawky or ungainly postures, and, as she was the bigger of thetwo, she was the more conspicuous.

Before long she began to improve in her bearing, but Meffiadid not. Brinnaria held herself erect, head up and shouldersback. Meffia slouched and sagged along, a semi-boneless creature,her clothing hanging on her baggily and unbecomingly.

The difference was particularly noticeable at meals.

In the Roman world all well-to-do people lay down to mealsluxuriously extended on broad sofas. Brinnaria had always hadtrouble about her meal-time attitudes, and her mild easy-goingmother had often had to speak to her and bid her rememberherself. In the Atrium she had found her legs kept up their oldhabits of getting into strange postures, her feet seemeddistressingly in evidence, and her knees always in the wrongplace.

Causidiena, tactful and sympathetic, solved the problem of howto influence her by getting her to watch Meffia and to contrasther with Manlia and Gargilia.

They were almost as statuesque as their two elders, whor*clined at table in attitudes scarcely less majestic than thoseof the Fates on the Parthenon pediment. Meffia sprawled uncouthlyand was forever spreading her knees apart, generally with one upin the air. Her postures were so disgusting that Brinnaria washot all over with determination not to be like Meffia.

She succeeded.

Great was her exultation when she perceived that it was nolonger Brinnaria and Meffia who gave cause for concern toCausidiena, but Meffia and Brinnaria, great her triumph when shemade sure that Causidiena had ceased worrying about her, orworried only at long intervals, but was perpetually solicitousconcerning Meffia.

Meffia was indeed a cause of solicitude. She was stupid, slowand idle about her lessons, tearful on the slightest provocation,inert at all times and generally ailing, though never actuallyill. She never looked clean, no matter how faithfully her maidtoiled over her; she could somehow reduce, in an amazingly shorttime, the neatest attire to the semblance of mussed and rumpledrags; she slouched and shambled rather than walked, she lolledrather than sat.

Her hands were feeble and ineffective, her writing remained achildish scrawl, no matter how much she was made to practice, shedropped things continually and frequently spilt her food at meal-time. Most of all was her awkwardness manifest in the temple.

The temple was circular, its roof supported by eighteensplendid marble columns, the intervals between which were walledup to the height of not much more than five feet, the space fromthe top of the low wall to the roof being filled in withmagnificent lattices of heavy cast bronze; so that the temple wasa pleasant, breezy place on warm days, but very draughty inchilly weather and bitterly cold in winter. It contained nostatue, nor any other object of worship, except in the center ofits floor the circular altar on which burned the sacred fire,solemnly extinguished and ceremonially rekindled on each first ofMarch, the New Year's day of the primitive Roman Calendar, butwhich must never at any other time be permitted to go out, uponwhose continual burning depended the prosperity of Rome,according to the belief implicitly held by all Romans from theearliest days until Brinnaria's time, and for centuries after.The extinction of the perpetual fire, whether by accident or byneglect, was looked upon as a presage of frightful disaster tothe nation, as an omen of impending horrors, almost as theprobable cause of national misfortunes. Without qualification ordoubt the people of Brinnaria's world believed that, as long asVesta's holy fire burned steadily and brightly, Rome was assuredthe favor and protection of her gods; that, should it die out,their wrath was certain to be manifested in terrible afflictionsinvolving the entire population.

The care of the fire was the chief duty of Brinnaria and herfive associates, as it had been of their predecessors for morethan nine hundred years. As maple was the sacred wood in theRoman ritual, maple only was used for the holy fire. The size ofthe pieces used and their shape was also a matter of immemorialordinance. Each piece was about a cubit long, about the length ofthe forearm of an average adult, measured from elbow to finger-tips. Each piece must be wedge-shaped, with the bark on therounded side and the other two sides meeting at a sharp edgewhere had been the heart of the trunk or branch from which it hadbeen cut. Each piece must have been clean cleft with a strongsweep of the axe. The pieces varied from sections of stout trunksto mere slivers from slender boughs. All were of dry, well-seasoned wood, carefully prepared.

The placing of these on the fire was a matter of ritual andmight be done no otherwise than as prescribed. It was quite adelicate art to lay the necessary piece in just the right placeand at just the right angle; it required more than a little goodsense and discretion to know just when a piece was required, forthe fire must not burn violently nor must it smoulder, it must besteady but not strong. This discretion, this good sense, Meffiawas slow to acquire. The art of laying the wood properly sheacquired very imperfectly. She did it well enough underdirection; but, even with Causidiena watching her, she was likelyto drop the piece of wood on the floor, or, what was worse, todrop it on the fire instead of laying it on. The scattering ofashes on the floor of the temple was held unseemly, that livecoals should fall from the Altar was considered almostsacrilegious. Meffia, more than once, perpetrated such appallingblunders. Very tardily did she learn her duties; only after fouryears could she be trusted to take her regular turn in care ofthe fire and to stand her watch of half a night each time herturn came between sunset and sunrise.

During these four years she had grown into a not unpersonableyoung woman, for Roman girls were generally young women atfourteen years of age. She was never ruddy or robust, alwayspale, delicate-looking and fragile-seeming, never actually ill,but usually ailing, peevish, limp and querulous. Life in theAtrium largely consisted in the effort to keep Meffia well, tomake sure that she was not overtired, to foresee and forestallopportunities for her to blunder, to repair the consequences ofher mistakes, generally to protect and guide her.

In the same four years Brinnaria had developed into a musculargirl, tall, amply fleshed, robust, rosy, full of healthy vigor,lithe and strong. She was radiantly handsome, knew it, and wasproud of it. Her duties she knew to the last, least detail, andCausidiena trusted her quite as much as Manlia or Gargilia.

One spring night it was Mafia's watch until midnight, at whichtime Brinnaria was to relieve her. It was the custom that, at theend of her watch, the Vestal) on duty made sure that the fire wasburning properly and then left it and herself waked her relief,it being entirely inconceivable that, under roof and protectedall round by bronze lattices, a properly burning fire could goout in the brief space of time required to leave the temple,enter the court-yard, cross it, ascend the stairs and for therelieving Vestal to reach the temple by the same pathreversed.

Brinnaria was a sound sleeper. She woke in the pitch dark withthe instant conviction that she had slept long past midnight,with a sudden qualm of apprehension, of boding, almost ofterror.

She was a methodical creature for all her wildness, and veryneat in her habits. By touch, almost without groping, she dressedin the dark. Silently she slipped out of her room, noiselesslyshe closed the door, softly she groped her way to the stairs,down the stairs out into the courtyard to the corner of thecolonnade.

There, a pace or two beyond the pillars, under the open sky,she peered up.

The gray light of dawn was faintly hinted in the blackishcanopy of cloud above her.

Swiftly she flitted the length of the court, whisking past thedimly-seen columns; swiftly she traversed the three small roomsat its eastern end, panting she plunged through the dark doorwayinto the dark temple.

There was no flicker of fire-light on the carved and gildedpanels of the lofty ceiling; the ceiling, in fact, was invisible,unguessable in the gloom.

There was no glow upon the altar, not even a glimmer ofredness through the ashes.

Brinnaria held her hand over the ashes. Nowhere could shediscern more than the merest hint of warmth.

On the back of her hands, as on the back of her neck, shecould feel the chill of the faintly stirring dawn wind thatbreathed through the bronze lattices and across the templeinterior.

She felt among the wood piled ready, found a slender sliver ofa cleft branchlet, and methodically ploughed the ashes across andacross. She did bring to the surface a faint redness, but noteven one coal which could have been blown into sufficient heat tostart a flame on her splinter of dry maple.

A sound assailed her ears.

Meffia snoring!

Guided by the gurgling noise she found Meffia crumpled in aheap on the mosaic floor against the base of one of thepillars.

Brinnaria kicked her once viciously and shook herrepeatedly.

Slowly, dazedly, Meffia half awoke, whining:

"Where am I?" she gasped.

"In the temple!" Brinnaria replied.

"Oh!" Meffia exclaimed, "what has happened?"

"You went to sleep, you little fool," Brinnaria raged at her,"and the fire has gone out."

"Oh! what shall we do?" wailed Meffia, "what shall we do?"

"Do?" snarled Brinnaria. "It's plain enough what you have todo. Go to your room, go to bed and go' to sleep, stay asleep,keep your mouth shut, say nothing, pretend you woke me atmidnight, pretend you had nothing to do with the fire going out,pretend you know nothing about it, keep your face straight, keepmum, leave the rest to me!"

"But," wailed Meffia, "if they think you let the fire go outyou'll be scourged for it."

"Well," snapped Brinnaria, "what's that to you? Go tobed."

"But," Meffia insisted, "I let it go out. I ought to take theblame, not you. I ought to be scourged with you."

"You insufferable little idiot," Brinnaria hurled at her, "younever could stand a flogging, you'd die of it most likely. To acertainty you'd be ill, and have to be sent off to be nursed andkept away for a month or more to recover. I won't have Causidienaworried with any such performances. And as sure as the fire isout, you'd behave like the poor creature you are. You'd screamand howl and faint and shame us all.

"No flogging of you if I can help it!

"Now, go to bed!"

"But," protested Meffia, "why need either of us be flogged? Ihave tinder and flint and steel in my room. We could light thefire and no one ever know it."

"You imbecile child! You silly baby! You wicked, horrible,sacrilegious girl!" Brinnaria stormed. "You irreligious,atheistical, blasphemous wretch! To save your hide you'ddesecrate the temple, pollute the Altar, anger Vesta, make allour prayers in vain, bring down curses without count on Rome andall of us. Be silent! Don't you dare to speak another word! Offto bed with you!"

"But," Meffia trembled, "you hate me; why do you take mypunishment?"

"I don't hate you," hissed Brinnaria. "I despise you! And I'vetold you why I'm going to take the licking. Off to bed withyou!"

"But," Meffia still persisted, "what will you do?"

"Do?" whispered Brinnaria. "Do? Why I'll curl up where you'veleft a warm spot on the floor and go to sleep and sleep till someone finds me. I can sleep any time."

"But think of the scourging!" Meffia insisted.

"I shan't," Brinnaria maintained. "I shan't think of it amoment. I never did mind a licking. It's bad enough while itlasts, but soon over. No licking will worry me. I'll sleep like atop. Now to bed with you, or I'll break every bone in yourworthless body!" Meffia started to speak again; Brinnaria caughther gullet in one strong, young hand, clutched her neck with theother, and craftily pressed one thumb behind one of Meffia'sears.

Meffia squeaked like a snared rabbit.

"There!" Brinnaria whispered fiercely. "Now you know how badlyI can hurt you when I try. If you let on that it was you and notI that let the fire go out what I did to you then won't amount toanything to what I'll do to you. I'll kill you. Promise you'llkeep mum."

"I promise," gasped Meffia.

"Go to bed!" Brinnaria hissed.

Meffia went.

Brinnaria, left alone, did all she could to make the ashes onthe Altar look like the remains of a fire that had died out ofitself, to efface all signs of her efforts to find live coalsunder the ashes. She judged that she had succeeded prettywell.

Then she composed herself on the floor and was asleep in tenbreaths.

There Manlia found her when the daylight was alreadystrong.

When wakened Brinnaria merely remarked:

"It can't be helped. I always did sleep too sound." That daywas a gloomy day in Rome. The report was noised abroad that theholy fire had gone out and a chill of horror spread through allclasses of the population, from the richest to the poorest.

The Romans were very far from being what they are representedto have been by unsympathetic modern writers on them. Practicallyall modern writers have been unsympathetic with the Romans, forthe Romans were Pagans and all modern writers on them have beenmore or less Christians, chiefly interested in Pagans becausemost Pagans were in the later centuries converted toChristianity. With that fact in the foreground of their thoughtsand with the utterances of Roman skeptics and dilettantes well inview, most modern writers assert what they sincerely believe,that the Romans had only the vaguest and most lukewarm religiousfaith, and no vivid devout convictions at all.

The facts were entirely the other way. There were agnosticsamong the cultured leisure classes, there were unbelievers ofvarious degrees everywhere in the towns and cities. But the massof the population, not only universally, all over thecountryside, but collectively in the urban centers, believed intheir gods as implicitly as they believed in heat and cold, birthand death, fire and water, pleasure and pain. Government, fromthe Roman point of view, was a partnership between the Romanpeople, as represented by their senate, and the gods. Under theRepublic every election had appeared to the Romans whoparticipated in it to be a rite for ascertaining what man wouldbe most pleasing to the gods to fill the position in question.Under the Empire the selection of a new Emperor, whether aconfirmation by the senate of the previous Emperor's accreditedheir, or an acclamation by the army of the soldiers' favorite,appeared to the Romans as the determination of the gods'preference for a particular individual as their chiefpartner.

The choice of war or peace, of battle or maneuvering fordelay, seemed to the Romans the taking of the advice of the gods,who manifested their injunctions by various signs, by theappearance of the liver, heart, lungs and kidneys of the cattleand sheep sacrificed, by the flight of birds, by the shape of theflames of altar-fires, all regarded as definite answers toexplicit questions; who also made suggestions or gave warnings bymeans of earthquakes, floods, conflagrations, pestilences,eclipses, by the aurora borealis, by any sort of strangehappening.

The extinction of the sacred fire in the Temple of Vesta waslooked upon as a categorical warning that the behavior of theRomans or of some part of them or the conduct of the governmentwas so displeasing to the gods that the Empire would come to asudden end unless matters were at once corrected. All Romansbelieved that as implicitly as they believed that food would keepthem alive or that steel could kill them.

Therefore the days after Meffia let the fire go out weregloomy days in Rome. The report of a great defeat for their army,with a terrible slaughter of their best soldiers would not havedepressed the crowds more.

The people were as dazed, numb and silent as after the firstnews of a terrific disaster. Every kind of public amusem*nt ordiversion was postponed, merry-making ceased everywhere, thewildest and most reckless felt no inclination towards frivolity,even the games of children were checked and repressed, gravityand solemnity enveloped the entire city and its vast suburbs. Themen talked soberly, as if at a funeral; while for women of everydegree, but especially for the matrons of the upper classes, thethree ensuing days were days of prayer and fasting.

For the Pontiffs they were anxious and busy days.

Both Emperors were away from Rome, Lucius Verus in Greece, onhis way home from Antioch and the great victories of his threeyears' campaign against the Parthians, Marcus Aurelius in Germanyhastening from point to point along the headwaters of the Rhineand Danube, desperately resisting the pertinacious attacks of theMarcomanni. The Pontiffs were without their chief and acted underthe leadership of Faltonius Bambilio, Pontifex of Vesta, thebusiest and most anxious of them all. In consultation with theaugust College of Pontiffs, hastily assembled at the Regia, asplendid building occupying the site of Numa's rustic palace,near the great Forum and close to the Temple of Vesta, hearranged for the necessary ceremonial of expiation andatonement.

Besides the fasting of the women all over the city, besidestheir day-long and night-long prayers, besides the sacrificeswhich each matron must personally offer in her own house, besidesthe sacrifices which must be offered for the matrons in theTemple of Castor and in the less popular women's temples in everyquarter of the city, there must he public sacrifices of cattle,sheep and swine, there must be solemn and gorgeous processions;every sort of ceremonial traditionally supposed to mitigate thewrath of the gods, to placate them, to win their favor, must becarried out with every detail of care, with the utmostmagnificence.

Meanwhile, and above all, the negligent Vestal must bepunished; and at once the sacred fire must be rituallyrekindled.

The ritual rekindling worried and exhausted Bambilio not alittle.

The procedure was traditional and rigidly prescribed in everydetail. The sacred fire might not be rekindled by anything somodern as a flint and steel, far less by anything so much moremodern as a burning glass.

The primitive fire drill must be used and the fresh fireproduced by the friction of wood on wood.

The ritual prescribed that a plank of apple wood, about twoinches thick, about two feet wide and about three feet long,should be placed on a firm support, upon which it would restsolidly without any tendency to joggle. At its middle was bored asmall circular depression, about the size of a man's thumb-nailand shallow. Into this was thrust the tapered end of a round rodof maple wood about as thick as a large man's thumb. The upperend of the rod fitted freely into a socket in a ball of maplewood of suitable size to be held in the left hand and presseddown so as to press the lower end of the rod into the hole in theapple wood plank. Round the middle of the rod was looped a bow-string kept taut by a strong bow. By grasping the bow in hisright hand and sawing it back and forth, the operator caused therod to whirl round, first one way and then the other, with greatvelocity. The friction of its lower end soon heated up the holein the apple-wood plank, and round that were piled chips of dryapple-wood, which, if the operator was strong and skilled, soonburst into flame.

Bambilio was fat and clumsy. Before he had succeeded he wasdripping with perspiration, limp with weariness and ready tofaint. But succeed he did. The quart or more of apple-wood chipsburst into flame at last; Causidiena, standing ready with theprescribed copper sieve, caught the blazing chips as they weretilted off the plank, conveyed them to the Altar, placed maplesplinters on them, and soon had the sacred fire burningproperly.

The punishment of the guilty Vestal was even more a matter ofconcern, of trepidation. She must be scourged that very night,and, as in respect to the rekindling of the fire, every detail ofwhat must be done was prescribed by immemorial tradition, longsince committed to writing, among the statutes of the order.

The scourging must be done by the Pontiff himself.

The scourge must be one with a maple-wood handle and threethongs of leather made from the hide of a roan heifer. In eachthong were knotted the tiny, horny half-hoofs of a newborn whitelamb, eight to a thong, twenty-four in all. These bits of hornyhoof tore and cut terribly the bare back of the victim. It wasprescribed that the scourge must be laid on vigorously, notlightly.

The Vestal scourged must be entirely nude. As it would havebeen sacrilege unspeakable for a man to see the ankle or shoulderof a Vestal, let alone her entire body, it was enjoined that thescourging take place at midnight, in a shut room, and that awoolen curtain should hang between the Pontifex and hisvictim.

Bambilio was terribly wrought up at the prospect of theperplexing and delicate duty before him. He was fat and short-winded and would suffer from the effort of laying on the blows.He was as pious as possible and quaked inwardly with the dreadthat, in spite of the dark room and the curtain, he might catch aglimpse of his victim and bring down the wrath of the gods onhimself and on Rome. And, apart from all else, he was shame-facedand hot and cold at the idea of being in the same room, even in adarkened room screened by a curtain, with a naked Vestal. Heblushed and shuddered. To be sure, it was prescribed that oneother Vestal was to be in the room, on the same side of thecurtain as the victim, to say when the scourging had continuedlong enough and the negligent Vestal had been sufficientlypunished. But this comforted Bambilio very little.

He wished the ordeal over.

At midnight he stood in the dark, close to the curtain. Thedarkness was not as dark as he should have liked. Some ghost of aglimmer of starshine filtered into the room and he could make outthe shape of the curtain. He waited, scourge in hand.

Presently Numisia spoke, told him that Brinnaria was preparedfor her beating, took his left hand and guided it in the dark. Hefelt the curtain's edge against his wrist, felt a warm softelbow, grasped it, and at once gained a notion of the directionin which he was to lay on his blows.

He struck round the other side of the curtain and felt thatthe scourge met its mark, but slantingly and draggingly. He triedagain and seemed to do better.

For the third blow he made the scourge whistle through theair.

"Hit harder, you old fool," spoke Brinnaria, "you're barelytapping me!" That made him angry and Brinnaria experienced assevere a scourging as any fat old gentleman could havecompassed.

She did not shriek, sob or whimper: not a sound escaped her.She suffered, suffered acutely, particularly when one of the lambhoofs struck a second time on a bleeding gash in her back or on aswollen weal. But her physical pain was drowned in a rising tideof anger and wrath. She felt the long repressed, half-forgottentomboy, hoyden Brinnaria surging up in her and gaining mastery.She fairly boiled with rage, she blazed and flamed inwardly witha conflagration of resentment. It was all she could do not totear down the curtain, spring on Bambilio, wrench his scourgefrom his hand and lay it on him. She kept still and silent, butshe felt her inward tornado of emotion gaining strength.

When Numisia spoke Bambilio let go Brinnaria's arm and steppedback a pace. "My daughter," he said, "you have been punishedenough. Your punishment is accomplished. This is sufficient."

Then Brinnaria spoke, in a voice tense, not with pain, butwith fury:

"You won't hit me again?"

"No, my daughter," said Bambilio, "no more."

"You have quite done beating me?" she demanded.

"Quite done," he replied.

Then, unexpectedly to herself, Brinnaria's wrath boiledover.

"Then," she fairly yelled at him, "I'm going to begin beatingyou. Shut your eyes. I'm going to pull down the curtain!"

Numisia made a horrified grab at Brinnaria and missed her.Brinnaria gave her a push; Numisia slipped, fell her length onthe floor, struck her head and either fainted or was stunned.

Bambilio, his eyes tight shut, the instant after Numisia'shead cracked the floor, heard snap the string supporting thecurtain.

He shut his eyes tighter.

He felt the scourge wrenched from his limp fingers, felt theback of his neck grasped by a muscular young hand, felt theimpact of the twenty-four sheep-hoofs on his back.

Through his clothing they stung and smarted.

There came another blow and another. Bambilio tried to getaway, but he dreaded unseemly contact with a naked Vestal and didnot succeed in his efforts.

The blows fell thick and fast. He was an old man exhausted bya long day of excitement and by his exertions while scourgingBrinnaria.

His knees knocked together, he gasped, he snorted: the pain ofthe blows made him feel faint; he collapsed on the floor.

Then Brinnaria did beat him, till the blood ran from his backalmost as from hers, beat him till the old man fainted deadaway.

When her arm was tired she gave him a kick, threw the scourgeon him and groped for Numisia.

Numisia had sat up.

"My child," she said, "why did you do it?"

"I don't know," snarled Brinnaria. "I was furious. I did itbefore I thought. Are you hurt?"

"No," said Numisia. "Don't tell anyone you pushed me. I'llnever tell. I don't blame you, dear." She fainted again.

Causidiena, waiting under the colonnade of the courtyard, wasappalled to descry in the gloom a totally naked Brinnaria, a massof clothing hanging over her arm.

"My child," she protested, "why did you not put on yourclothes?"

"I don't care who sees me!" Brinnaria retorted. "I'm boilinghot; I'm all over sweat and blood and my back's cut toribbons."

"What are you going to do?" Causidiena queried.

"I'm going to bed," Brinnaria replied. "Please send Utta to meand tell her to bring the turpentine jug and the salt box."

"My dear," Causidiena objected, "you'll never endure thepain!"

"Yes, I shall," Brinnaria maintained. "I'll set my teeth andstand the smart. I don't mean to have a festered back. I'll haveUtta rub me with salt and turpentine from neck to hips; I'll beasleep before she's done rubbing."

"I'll come and see she does it properly," Causidiena said.

"Better not," said Brinnaria. "Numisia and Bambilio need youworse than I do."

"Why?" queried Causidiena.

"After Bambilio was done beating me," Brinnaria explainedcalmly, "I beat him. Numisia tried to stop me and somehow fell onthe floor and was stunned. She came to after I was done withBambilio, but she fainted again. I beat him till he is just alump of raw meat, eleven-twelfths dead, wallowing in his bloodlike a sausage in a plate of gravy."

"My child!" Causidiena cried, "this is sacrilege!"

"Not a bit of it!" Brinnaria maintained, a tall, white shapein the star-shine, waving her armful of clothing.

"I have pored over the statutes of the order. It was incumbenton me to keep still and silent all through my licking. But I defyyou or any other Vestal or any Pontiff or Flamen or either of theEmperors to show me a word on the statutes of the order or in anyother sacred writing that forbids a Vestal, after her thrashing,to beat the Pontifex to red pulp. I have. You'd better go helphim; he might die. And poor Numisia needs reviving. I'm allright; send me Utta and the salt and turpentine, and I'll be fitfor duty in a day or two."

"You terrible child!" said Causidiena.

IX. — ALARMS

THE next year was the year of the greatpestilence. Pestilence, indeed, had ravaged Italy for fiveconsecutive summers previous to that year. But the greatpestilence, for two centuries afterwards spoken of merely as "thepestilence," fell in the nine hundred and nineteenth year afterthe founding of Rome, the year 166 of our era, when MarcusAurelius and Lucius Verus had been co-Emperors for a little morethan five years and Brinnaria had been almost five years aVestal. It devastated the entire Empire from Nisibis in upperMesopotamia to Segontium, opposite the isle of Anglesea. Everyfarm, hamlet and village suffered; in not one town did it leavemore than half the inhabitants alive; few cities escaped with somuch as a third of the population surviving. Famine accompaniedthe pestilence in all the western portions of the Roman world,and from famine perished many whom the plague had spared.

This disaster was, in fact, the real deathblow to Rome'sgreatness and from it dates the decline of the Roman power. Itbroke the tradition of civilization and culture which had grownfrom the small beginnings of the primitive Greeks and Etruscansmore than two thousand years before. During all those twothousand years there had been a more or less steady and ascarcely interrupted development of the agriculture,manufactures, arts, skill, knowledge and power of the mass ofhumanity about the Mediterranean Sea; men who fought with shieldsand spears and swords, also with arrows and slings, believed inapproximately the same sort of gods; wore clothing rather wrappedround them than upholstered on their bodies as with us; reclinedon sofas at meals; lived mostly out of doors all the year round;built their houses about courtyards, and made rows of columns thechief feature of their architecture, and sheltering themselves incolonnades, sunny or shady according to the time of the year, thechief feature of their personal comfort. Up to the year of thegreat pestilence that civilization had prospered, had produced along series of generals, inventors, architects, sculptors,painters, musicians, poets, authors, and orators. Everywhere menhad shown self-confidence, capacity, originality, power andcompetence and had achieved success for two thousand years.

The great pestilence of 166 so depleted the population thatRome never again pushed forward the boundaries of her Empire.Some lucky armies won occasional victories, but Rome never againput on the field an overwhelming army for foreign conquest, neveragain could fully man, even defensively, the long line of herfrontiers.

All classes of the people suffered, but most of all the rich,the well-to-do, the educated and the cultured classes of thetowns and cities. And the main point of difference between thegreat pestilence and the others which had preceded it was theuniversality of its incidence. For two thousand years pestilencehad occurred at intervals, but previously not everywhere atonce.

If one country suffered others did not; if half theMediterranean world, even, was devastated, the other halfescaped. From the immune regions competence and capacity hadflowed into the ruined areas and civilization had gone on. Butthe great pestilence left no district unharmed. In six months itkilled off all the brains and skill, all the culture andingenuity in the Empire. There were so few capable men left inany line of activity that the next generation grew up practicallyuntaught. The tradition of two thousand years was broken. In allthe Mediterranean world, until centuries later, descendants ofthe savage invaders developed their new civilization on the ruinsof the old; no man ever again made a great speech, wrote a greatbook or play or poem, painted a good picture, carved a goodstatue, or contrived a good campaign or battle. The brains of theRoman world died that year, the originality of the whole nationwas killed at once, the tradition broke off.

Of course, the survivors did not realize the finality of thedisaster, but they did realize its magnitude. In Italy, fedalmost wholly by imported food, the famine was most severe. InItaly the pestilence was most virulent. Men disputed as towhether the great army of Lucius Verus, returned home from itssplendid victories in Parthia, had brought with it a form ofpestilence worse than that of the five previous years, or whetherthe returned soldiers had merely been a specially easy prey tothe pestilence already abroad in Rome. Whichever was true, theveterans died like flies. So did the residents of Rome. Wholeblocks of tenements were emptied of their last occupier and stoodwholly vacant; many palaces of the wealthy were left without somuch as a guardian, the last inmate dead; the splendidfurnishings, even the silver plate, untouched in every room; forthe plague had so ravaged Rome that there were not even robbersand thieves left to steal To the survivors, since genuine pietyas they knew it was all but universal among the Romans, it wassome small comfort, a faint ray of hope, a sign that the godswere not inexorably wrathful, that, after Rabulla's death, therewas no case of pestilence in the Atrium, not even among theservitors, that no Vestal so much as sickened. Through it all thesix remained hale and sound.

But when the plague abated, only Manlia had any livingrelations left her. The other five had lost every kinsman andkinswoman, to the ninth and tenth degree.

Brinnaria's parents, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts andcousins were all among the victims. This left her grave andsobered with grief, with no trace of her girlish wildnessapparent.

It also left her enormously rich, one of the wealthiest womenin Rome.

Not a tenth so wealthy, but still very rich, it left Almo,Vocco and Flexinna, all of whom survived.

As the plague had been rife, worse each year, for some seasonsbefore the year of the great pestilence, so, ebbing yearly, itcontinued for some years after its acme. As soon as the worst wasmanifestly over the life of Rome began to revive to some degree,the city dwellers plucked up heart, the refugees began to returnto their town houses, hunger and terror were forgotten, industryand commerce rallied, bustle and activity increased from day today, and, slowly indeed, but steadily, Rome returned to itsnormal activity and appearance. The survivors reconstructed theirlife on the old lines, the streets and squares were againthronged, the public baths, those vast casinos of ancient club-life, were daily crowded with idlers.

The repopulation of the city brought into it many richfamilies from towns all over the Roman world.

Their influx sent up the price of large residences and causedmuch activity in the renting and selling of properties suitablefor the homes of people of ample means.

Brinnaria, without a male relation of even the remotestdegree, came to lean more and more on Vocco, the husband of herchum Flexinna. He was a young man of not unpleasing appearanceand of courtly manners, but very haughty, reserved and silent bynature; and exceedingly spare, lean and wiry, with black hair andbrows, a complexion as if tanned and weatherbeaten and anhabitual frown. He was fond of Brinnaria and unbent to her morethan to most of his acquaintances. She treated him as a sort ofhonorary cousin and turned over to him many details of the careof her large and scattered property. He took upon himself in herinterest the sale or management of her distant estates, found forthem capable overseers or purchasers at advantageous prices,bought slaves where they were needed, arranged for the marketingof the more important products and accounted to her for theproceeds.

About her town properties he had more trouble and someexasperation, for he found the apparently practical andunsentimental Brinnaria oddly unwilling to disturb the contentsof the palaces in which her kinsmen had lived and died. She wasnaturally a good business woman and all her instincts urged herto increase her capital and her income by every means within herpower and at every opportunity. Yet, when Vocco came to her withoffers of high prices for the various buildings which she hadinherited he could induce her to arrange for the sale only of thesmaller and less valuable houses, or of those tenements which hadbeen owned merely to rent, but had never been inhabited by anymembers of the Brinnarian clan. At the suggestion of preparingfor sale any of the palaces of her near kinsfolk she balked; fromthe barest hint towards moving the furniture in her father's homeshe recoiled in horror.

Vocco found himself faced by invincible femininity, with thepossession of which he would not have credited Brinnaria. Atfirst he was irritated. As he missed sale after sale he becamemore and more aggravated. But he kept his temper, held his tongueand waited for Brinnaria's mood to alter. Her sentimentalitygradually waned as the prices offered steadily mounted. Afterlong hesitation she gave orders to sell at auction the furniturefrom the house of a distant cousin, and to rent the house. Thatbroke the spell. One by one the late abodes of the Brinnarii werecleared and sold; sold furniture and all, cleared and rented, orrented furnished.

The former dwellings of her aunts and uncles she was reluctantto disturb. She felt a sort of sacredness about these splendidhouses where she had been merry as a child. When at last she madeup her mind to part with one she would not give the order to sellit until she had gone over it herself and selected some pieces offurniture which she specially valued. Vocco tried to dissuadeher, but she would not listen to him.

Her visit to the vast, empty palace had a most depressingeffect on her. All her grief at her countless bereavements rushedback over her in a flood and overwhelmed her. She would not allowa stick of furniture to be moved and withdrew her consent to thesale.

Vocco was patient and silent.

After a time this mood, too, wore off.

She had that particular dwelling emptied and sold and, oncethat first step taken, under the pressure of hugely profitableoffers, sold all the other properties.

In each case she insisted on inspecting the houses room byroom before anything was moved. After the first she had nohysterical qualms, did not show any outward emotion, selectedwhat she meant to keep for herself, ordered the sale of the rest,remained calm through it all.

Finally Vocco came to her with a most tempting offer for herchildhood home. Brinnaria took a night to think it over.

She had not entered the place since her father's funeral. Hehad been the last of the family to die, three months after hiswife, and some days after his last surviving son. During thelengthy interval the palace had stood shut fast, cared for onlyby a few slaves, and those not lifelong family servants, butrecent purchases; for the pestilence had carried off with theirmasters nearly all the home-bred house slaves.

At the thought of going through the deserted halls and silentrooms Brinnaria winced. But she nerved herself up to it. Shenamed a day on which she meant to face the ordeal, asked Vocco toorder the palace swept and dusted, and announced to Guntello,almost the sole survivor of her father's personal servitors, thathe was to accompany her.

When the day came she set out, not in her carriage, but in herlitter with eight Cilician bearers, her lictor running ahead andGuntello and Utta walking behind.

She began her survey accompanied by Guntello and Utta. Butwhen she came to the nursery and schoolroom she sent the twoaway, told them to wait for her in the peristyle, shut herself inand had a long, hard cry; precisely as if she had been, as ofold, a little girl hurt or angry or vexed. After she had wepttill no more tears flowed she felt relieved and comforted.

She called Utta, had her bring water, bathed her face and sentthe maid away again.

Then she resolutely examined room after room. The second floortook a long while, for there were many doors to open and closefor the last time.

There was a third floor, a feature possessed by few dwellingsin Rome in ancient times. The Imperial Palace, which latertowered to even seven stories, was unique in Brinnaria's time, inthe possession of five superposed floors. The great palace ofSallust, near the Salarian Gate, had but three.

To the third floor she mounted. Before she had investigatedhalf the rooms she found a door fast. What was more, as she triedit, she thought she heard a sound, as of human movement, insidethat room.

Brinnaria was no weakling. Methodically she tried that doorwith her full, young strength, tried it all along its edgeopposite its hinges, tried it at the middle, at the top, at thebottom. She made sure the door was not stuck or jammed; she wasconvinced that it was bolted within the room.

She leaned over the railing of the gallery and calledGuntello.

The odd note in her voice brought that faithful giant up thestairs, two steps at a time; the beams of the house, even themarble steps of the stair, seemed to quiver under his tread.

She had him try the door. He agreed that it was bolted.

"Can you break it in?" she queried.

Guntello laughed. "Without half trying, little Mistress," hereplied.

Brinnaria's voice came hard and sharp.

"You in that room!" she called, "unbolt that door and comeout, or it will be the worse for you. I'll count ten and thenorder the door burst open." She began to count.

She heard the bolt shot back.

She nodded to Guntello.

He gave the door a push.

Before them stood Calvaster, his attitude and countenanceexpressing cringing cowardice, cloaked by ill-assumed effrontery.He did not speak, trying to appear unconcerned.

"What are you doing in my house?" Brinnaria demanded.

"I do not wonder that you are astonished to see me here andangry as well," Calvaster replied, "but the explanation issimple. I learned that you were proposing to sell the property. Ihad a curiosity to see it as it is. I found means to slip in andgo over the building. I counted on leaving before you arrived. Imiscalculated, that is all. Awkward for both of us, butunintentional on my part."

"I don't believe half of that rigmarole," snappedBrinnaria.

"It is all true, nevertheless," Calvaster asserted with an airof injured innocence.

"One thing is plain, anyhow," Brinnaria declared. "You bribedone of my slaves. Which one did you bribe?"

Calvaster kept his lips pressed tight together.

"March him downstairs, Guntello," Brinnaria commanded.

Calvaster winced and made. as if to dodge. Big as he wasGuntello was wonderfully quick. In a flash he had the intruder bythe neck. Utterly helpless Calvaster was marched down thestairs.

In the courtyard Brinnaria had brought before her the halfdozen slaves who had charge of the empty house. They stood in arow fidgeting and glancing at each other.

"Now," she demanded of Calvaster, "point out which one youbribed." Calvaster remained motionless and mute.

"Hurt him, Guntello," said Brinnaria.

Guntello applied a few. simple twists and squeezes, such asschoolboys of all climes employ on their victims.

Calvaster yielded at once and indicated one of thesuspects.

"Throw him out, Guntello," said Brinnaria.

When Guntello returned he cheerfully inquired, with the easyassurance of an indulged favorite.

"Shall I kill Tranio, Mistress?"

"No!" said Brinnaria viciously. "I wouldn't have a toad killedon the word of that contemptible scoundrel. Give Tranio amoderate beating and hand him over to Olynthides to be sold atauction without a character." Her survey of her former home andher selection of the ornaments, pictures, statues, articles offurniture and other objects which she desired reserved forherself she completed with an air less of melancholy than ofpuzzled thought.

She was off duty for all of that day and night and was to dinewith Flexinna and Vocco. In the course of the pestilence they hadinherited a magnificent abode on the Esquiline. In particular ithad a private bath with a large swimming-pool. The Vestals werethe only ladies in Rome who might not enjoy the magnificentpublic baths, to which all Roman society flocked every afternoon,somewhat as we moderns throng a beach at a fashionable seasideresort. Brinnaria, who loved swimming, felt the deprivationkeenly. The Atrium had luxurious baths, but no swimming-pool.Whenever Brinnaria dined with Flexinna she particularly enjoyedthe swim the two always took together before dinner. On thatafternoon, while they were revelling in the water, Brinnaria toldFlexinna of her adventure.

"I can't conjecture," she said, "what motive brought himthere. I have been racking my brains about it ever since ithappened and it is an enigma to me."

"No riddle to me," Flexinna declared. "It's as c-c-clear as d-d-daylight."

"If you are so sure," said Brinnaria, "explain. I have noguess even."

"Why," expounded Flexinna, "he was there to c-c-collectevidence against you. He hates you because you wouldn't marry himand he is t-t-tenaciously resolved to be revenged. He is on thelookout for anything that might d-d-discredit you. He hoped tospy on an interview b-b-between you and Almo, for he surmisedthat you would arrange to have Almo meet you in the emptyhouse!"

"The nasty beast!" cried Brinnaria, shocked. "How darehe?"

"Oh, b-b-be sensible," Flexinna admonished her. "You know thek-k-kind he is. He's b-b-bound to impute to everybody what hewould d-d-do in their p-p-place. Any man under the samecirc*mstances would jump at the same suspicions."

"But why?" queried Brinnaria, bewildered and angry.

"Think a minute," said Flexinna. "To suspect all women is a c-c-convention, almost an axiom, with most men. All men like C-C-Calvaster assume that every married woman is interested in someman b-b-besides her husband, or in almost any man, and if marriedwomen are under suspicion, on the assumption that one husband isnot enough, of c-c-course you Vestals, who haven't even ahusband, are doubly under suspicion."

"Bah!" snarled Brinnaria, "you make me cross!"

"Facts are facts," Flexinna summed up.

Brinnaria did not retort. She had climbed out of the tank andwas seated on the edge, the drops streaming off her in rivulets,watching the ripples her toes' made in the water.

"Facts are facts," she echoed, "and conjectures are merelyconjectures; what is more, conjectures ought to have some basisin fact. You assert, as if you know it to he true, that Calvasterexpected Almo to meet me to-day. But Almo is at Falerii."

"No, he's not," Flexinna retorted; "he's b-b-been in t-t-townt-t-ten d-d-days and has had the old house on the C-C-Carinaereopened. He's settling d-d-down to live in Rome."

Brinnaria flushed.

"I think," she said, scrambling to her feet, "that he mighthave had enough consideration for me to stay in the country."

"So d-d-do I," said Flexinna.

X. — CONFERENCE

SOME months later, during one of the brief andinfrequent breathing spells in his ten years' fight to beat offthe raids of the Marcomanni and other Germanic tribes, Aureliusreturned from the Rhine frontier to Rome. As soon as she wasreasonably sure that the Emperor was rested from the fatigues ofhis journey and had disposed of the worst of his accumulatedroutine duties, Brinnaria sought a second audience with the chiefof the nation.

She was then a tall, grave girl of nineteen, looking andbehaving like a woman of twenty-five. Very handsome she was,full-fleshed without a trace of plumpness, fun breasted without ahint of overabundance. Her brown hair, now grown long again afterits ceremonial shearing at her entrance into the order ofVestals, was so dark that it was almost black. Arranged in thesix braids traditional for Vestals and wound round her head likea coronet it became her notably. Her complexion was creamy, witha splendid brilliant color that came and went in her cheeks. Herexpression of face was an indescribable blend of kindliness andhaughtiness towards others, of austerity and cheerfulnessinwardly, of intellectuality and comprehension towards life atlarge. She had acquired the statuesqueness of the conventionalVestal attitudes and movements, but she sat and stood so that allbeholders felt a vivid impression of her vitality, of reservestrength, incomparably beyond anything possessed by her fivecolleagues.

Her stately pacing as she walked always appeared the consciousrestraint of what, of itself, would have been a swinging stride.She wore her clothes with an unanalyzable difference, with a sortof effrontery, as Calvaster put it in talking of her to hiscronies.

On her way to the palace, erect in her white robe amid thegorgeous crimson hangings of her gilded state coach, shemeditated on the great dissimilarity between the feelings withwhich she had gone to her first audience with the Emperor andthose with which she now approached his abode. Then she had beenpalpitating with conscientious scruples and childish dreads, nowshe was sure of herself and of her errand; then she had thoughtchiefly of her mother and of the traditions of her family andclan, now not only her mother was dead, but the whole family ofthe Epulones had perished except herself and the Brinnarian clanwas represented by but three families, her relationship to whichwas fainter than any assignable degree of cousinship; then shehad been full of elation at her lofty position in the world, nowshe was perfectly at home in her environment and felt no emotionat the thought of it.

At the palace she found herself in the same vast room, alonewith a somewhat older and graver Emperor, now sole ruler of theirworld since the death of his colleague, Lucius Verus. He greetedher kindly, with an air of effort to conceal his weariness, andwhen both were seated asked her errand.

"In the first place," she said, "I want you to tell me whetheryou are satisfied with the reports you have had of me."

Aurelius half smiled.

"I am well pleased in respect to all your actions but one," hesaid. "You have certainly done better than I expected or hoped.You have curbed your wild nature so well that, of late years, youhave behaved altogether as a Vestal should. Even earlier yourconduct was creditable, since from the very day of your promiseto me, your outbursts were less and less frequent and also lessand less violent. Once only have you acted so that I feltdispleased when I heard what you had done and feel somewhatdispleased even yet."

"I suppose," Brinnaria ruminated, "you mean my larrupingBambilio."

"Yes," Aurelius admitted. "That was in a sense unforgivable.Had I been in Rome at the time I must have animadverted upon itwith the greatest severity."

"If you had been in Rome at the time," spoke Brinnaria boldly,"I should not have been flogged by any mere deputy Pontifex ofVesta. It would have been incumbent upon you, as PontifexMaximus, yourself to give me my ceremonial scourging. To you Ishould have been, of course, as submissive after my beating aswhile it was going on. No harm would have been done."

The Emperor smiled more than a half smile.

"I am not sure," he said, "that any harm was done,anyhow."

"What!" cried Brinnaria. "You excuse me? You defend me?"

"Softly! Softly!" the Emperor caveatted, raising his hand. "Ido not acquit you nor exonerate you. But I do make allowances.And we must distinguish. We must not confuse the causes of mydisapprobation of what you did with my reasons for believing thatno harm resulted. Nor, for that matter, must we confound witheither of them those qualities in yourself and thosecirc*mstances of the case which make me feel, illogicallyperhaps, but very possibly, more inclined to thank you than tocensure you."

"Castor be good to me!" cried Brinnaria. "Am I dreaming?"

"Don't interrupt, you disrespectful minx," the Emperorlaughed; "this is a lecture. Hear it out.

"In the first place you were technically right in saying thatthere is not one word in any sacred writing or in thepronouncements of the Pontiffs or the statutes of the Vestals toforbid a flogged Vestal from beating her scourger. Just as Solonin the code of laws which he drew up for the Athenians prescribedno penalty for the slayer of his father or mother, because, as heexplained when the omission was pointed out to him, he hadthought that no child would ever kill its parents; so no framerof rubrics ever foresaw the necessity of forbidding what no oneconceived of as possible. All persons were assumed to be too muchin awe of Pontiffs, for anyone to dare to raise a hand againstany Pontiff, least of all a Vestal against her spiritual father.The world had to wait for a Brinnaria to demonstrate that theunimaginable could come to pass.

"Yet the very fact that it was nowhere written down that youmust not do it makes your act all the worse. It wasmonstrous.

"But fortunately it was not sacrilegious. The person of thePontifex of Vesta is not sacrosanct and a blow inflicted on himis not to be rated as impious. Your act called for no expiation,personal or official. It did not desecrate him, or you, nor theplace where it occurred.

"Besides, I cannot resist admitting to you,"—and theEmperor smiled an unmistakable smile—"that this particularPontiff of Vesta is farther from being sacrosanct than any of hispredecessors. As far as I can learn, Faltonius is a worthy man,pious and scrupulous. But he is absurdly unfitted for his officein appearance and in manner. The self-importance he assumes, thepomposity with which he performs his duties, would be too greateven for an Emperor. He irritates all of us. All of us havewished, secretly or openly, many, many times, that Bambilio wouldbe soundly thrashed. He has been. You did it. The story was toogood to keep. It has not, of course, been allowed to leak out,and become common property. But it is known to all the Flamens,Augurs and Pontiffs.

"I need not describe to you the feelings of my colleagues, normy own. To hint them is perhaps too much; to particularize themwould be unseemly. I may say, however, that just as street-boysacclaim you by shouting:

"'That's the girl that saved the dog;' just as all over theEmpire you are talked of as the lady who rescued the retiarius;so at any festival or ceremonial in which the Vestals take part,many a dignitary is likely to nudge his neighbor, indicate youand whisper:

"'That's the priestess who walloped Bambilio!' You are notinfamous, you are famous.

"As for myself I am the more inclined to feel indulgenttowards you because I understand how you felt. You were boilingwith rage at being struck by any one, as any noble girl would be.Yet you would have controlled your fury but for the fact that youknew that you yourself had done nothing to deserve chastisem*nt,that you were suffering for another's fault."

"What!" cried Brinnaria.

"Oh, yes," Aurelius continued, easily. "Causidiena and I arequite agreed on that point. Neither she nor I have questionedMeffia, and we do not mean to; partly because we are sure enough,without any admission from her; partly because the matter is bestleft as it is, without any further notice. But, with theexception of Meffia, it is quite certain that, from the Vestalsthemselves down to the last slave-girl, every resident of theAtrium believes that not you but Meffia let the fire go out, andthat you took the blame due her. And we can all conjecture yourmotives, as we all applaud them.

"Meffia might never have survived a scourging, might have beenailing for months. Rome wants no sick Vestals nor dead Vestals.Causidiena is grateful to you, all the Atrium is grateful, I amgrateful."

"But," said Brinnaria, wide-eyed, "I had supposed that, ifMeffia was suspected, there would be an inquisition and testimonyunder oath and that it would be obligatory that the Vestalactually at fault must be scourged."

"For once," the Emperor smiled, "you have failed to readaccurately the statutes of the order. It is positivelyrefreshing. I was beginning to feel that you were altogether tooaccurate. In fact the scourging of a delinquent Vestal is a meredisciplinary regulation, designed to assure the maintenance ofthe fire. It is not in the nature of a mandatory atonement. Ithas nothing in common with an act of expiation. It has nothing todo with placating or propitiating the Goddess. It has no likenesswhatever to the punishment of a guilty Vestal."

"That reminds me," said Brinnaria, "of what I came for. I'm asgrateful as possible for what you have said to me, surprised thatCausidiena and you so easily saw through my deception, delightedthat you take it as you have, more than delighted to find you sokindly disposed towards me. I need all the kindness you can feeltowards me. I want to come to the point, to the reason why I amhere. I want you to answer me this question: 'Suppose I wereaccused of the worst possible misconduct, formally accused beforeyou, what then?"

"Then," said Aurelius, "you would have a fair trial."

"I believe I should," said Brinnaria. "You would be perfectlyfair and entirely just. And a fair trial would be a novelty.Almost never has an accused Vestal had a fair trial."

"Not even if acquitted?" the Emperor suggested slyly.

"No," Brinnaria retorted vigorously. "Even most of thoseabsolved were not tried fairly. Postumia was, if the records fromso long ago are to be trusted. The first trial of the thirdLicinia was perfectly fair, the minutes are very full and thereis no shade of bias in the discussion of her many interviews withCrassus, while the court was plainly genuinely amused at hisgreed for desirable real-estate and at his artifices to induceher to sell cheap. Fabia, in the same year, was justly treated.But most of the other acquittals were quite as bad as most of theconvictions to my mind. I can discover almost no trial where bothsides had a full hearing, where the judges tried to get at thefacts and kept their attention on the evidence, where the findingas the expression of the opinions rather than of the partialityof the Pontiffs. Almost every verdict on record, it seems to me,was dictated by favoritism or influence or prejudice orwrath."

"You seem to think you know a great deal about the subject oftrials of Vestals," Aurelius remarked.

"I feel justified in thinking so," Brinnaria maintained."Where the minutes of the court have perished, as, of course, inthe case of all the trials before the capture and burning of thecity by the Gauls, I have read what records remain. Where thecourt records are extant I have pored over every word of theminutes of the proceedings and of every document attached."

"That is more than ever I found time to do," Aureliusmeditated. "Your conclusions ought to be of interest. What arethey?"

Brinnaria drew a deep breath and went on. "I am convinced,"she said, "that sometimes the accused received what she deserved,but generally by accident. The judges were swayed by politics orexpediency or clan-feeling or popular clamor or self-interest,not by reason.

"Nobody could form any judgment, at this distance of time,about the guilt or innocence of Oppia or Opimia or Popilia orPorphilia or Orbilia or Orbinia or whatever her real name was, itall happened so long ago. But Minucia and Sextilia and Floroniaand the rest were just victims of judicial ferocity, as far as Ican make out."

"You are then of the opinion," the Emperor asked, "that therenever was a guilty Vestal?"

"No," Brinnaria replied judicially, "I don't go as far asthat. Varonilla was probably depraved and with her the twoOculatas. I don't think their suicides prove anything againstthem, for a woman is just as likely to hang herself because shedespairs of a fair hearing as because she is conscious of guilt.What weighs with me is that they were brought up in the dissolutetimes of Messalina and Nero and that their relatives were leadersof the most profligate set in Rome, cronies of Vitellius and hiscoterie. But although Cornelia was bred and raised in the samesocial atmosphere, I am quite as sure of her innocence as all theworld was the day she was buried and as everybody has been eversince. Domitian just murdered her without a trial, for politicalreasons and for moral effect. So likewise Marcia and the secondLicinia were judicially murdered by that fierce old CassiusLonginus Ravilla. He was elected to convict them, not to trythem, and he conducted the trial not to arrive at a fair verdict,but to force a conviction. He had some excuse, for theiracquittal on their former trial had been brought about by idioticbribing and family influence. On the face of the evidence at bothtrials they were clearly blameless. What ruined them was theirtrying to shield Aurelia, surely the worst Vestal on record, forshe had everything in her favor, ancestry, upbringing andsurroundings; she was beyond doubt innately vicious. She was theonly Vestal ever justly convicted and justly punished, in myopinion. All the others were irreproachable women, doomed to afrightful fate by prejudiced judges. In general, an accusedVestal is as good as condemned, the whole population so dreadsthe results of acquitting an unclean priestess. And it is theeasiest thing in the world for a Vestal to be accused. Refuse tosell a farm for half its value, snub a bore, order a slaveflogged for some unbearable blunder, and the result is the same;false accusation with perjured witnesses and a quick convictionmost likely to follow."

"The subject seems to have occupied your mind a great deal,"Aurelius ruminated.

"Do you wonder?" Brinnaria flamed at him. "What in all thetragic, dramatic history of Rome is half so dramatic or a tenthso tragic as the burial of a Vestal? In all our centuries offerocity, what seems half so cruel?

"I know that cruelty played no part in the invention of burialalive as a punishment for a convicted Vestal. I know that nocaitiff could be found so vile as to dare to lay hands on aVestal, no ruffian so reckless as to venture to end her life bysword or axe, by strangling or drowning. The most impiousmiscreant has too much fear of the gods to injure a consecratedpriestess. The only way to dispose of a delinquent Vestal is tobury her alive. But the cruelty of it makes me choke. I think ofthe last hours of each of those who were punished, of theirthoughts as the time drew near, of their feelings alone in thedark waiting for death to release them from their sufferings.

"I think of these underground cells as they are now, out thereunder that awful unkempt, ragged waste lot by the Colline Gate. Ithink of the skeletons mouldering on the mouldering cots, of thebones, the fragments of crumbling bones, the dust of crumbledbones on the stone floors, as they have been for hundreds ofyears, as they will be for thousands of years to come. The cotcannot yet have decayed from under what is left of poor Cornelia;her bones must still be entire and in order on the webbing;Aurelia's bones must be whole yet and Licinia's and Marcia's; ofFloronia there can hardly be left a trace by now, where Minuciadied there can be only an empty stone cell. Do you wonder thatthe subject haunts me?"

"I do and I do not," Aurelius replied. "I've let you relieveyour mind by talking yourself tired. Now listen to me. I think Iunderstand you perfectly. When you came to me before the novelresponsibilities of your office had worn on your nerves and youwere quivering with dread for fear you might be an unworthypriestess. Now the perils of your situation are wearing on yournerves and you are brooding over the possibility of accusation,trial, conviction and burial alive.

"I sympathize with you. As an Emperor I am exposed to theperpetual danger of assassination. You would be amazed if Idetailed to you my various narrow escapes from death at the handsof disappointed seekers after preferment, of incompetentofficials, of knaves with grievances of every conceivable andinconceivable variety and of fools with no grievance at all. Youwould be astonished if I merely reckoned the occasions on which Ihave just missed being killed. It gets on my nerves, more orless, of course. But I strive to bear up and remain calm and Isucceed more or less. I keep before me the fact that as anEmperor I am obnoxious to countless hatreds from fancied slightsand to uncountable schemes of revenge. I reflect that the dangeris inseparable from the state of my being an Emperor. I try to bephilosophical about it.

"So you must attempt to remain placid under the strain of theknowledge that you are exposed to perpetual danger of a horribledeath from conviction on false accusation. It is part of thecondition of being a Vestal. If anything goes wrong in the way ofearthquake, flood, famine, pestilence, conflagrations or defeats,the populace are likely to cry out that some Vestal is uncleanand bringing down on the Empire the wrath of the gods. Thatnothing of the kind has occurred during our recent afflictionshas been clearly due to the holiness of Dossonia and Causidienaand to their reputation for strict discipline. But the danger ofpopular outcry is always real. Then there is the fact that fartoo large a proportion of our population are dissolute and that,among the dissolute-minded, all Vestals are under suspicionbecause they are the only women among our nobility who remainunmarried long after they have reached marriageable years. Youmust learn to take all this as a matter of course and to gosedately about your duties.

"Of course, I lessen my danger by keeping about me many trustyguards. It is right that you should appeal to me in your anxiety.I shall do what I can to lessen your danger. I believe in you. Ifyou were accused before me it would take notably plain andconvincing evidence to make me believe anything against you. Ishall put my opinion of you on record among my papers ofinstructions to my successor. I shall declare it to all the ChiefPontiffs. I shall verbally and in writing make it clear to allconcerned that you seem to me all you should be, that you are inan unusually difficult and delicate position and that in case ofaccusation all presumption should be in favor of your innocenceand against the sincerity of your accusers.

"And now I think that ought to satisfy you and cover all thegeneral considerations. Let us come to the special considerationthat interests me chiefly. You have never come to me because youbecame gradually unnerved by brooding which had no specificorigin or cause:

"Tell me plainly and outspokenly what has happened to youlately to fill your mind with thoughts of buried Vestals, trials,accusations and terrors?"

Brinnaria thereupon related her encounter with Calvaster andher conversation with Flexinna.

The Emperor stroked his beard and reflected.

"I have never liked Calvaster," he said, "and if I had been inthe city to consider recommendations for appointments he would,assuredly, never have become a member of Rome's hierarchy. I deemhim gravely unsuited for even the most minor grade of Pontiff. Heappears to me to be mean-spirited, narrow-minded and base. I aminclined to believe of him all that you impute. But, even to suchas Calvaster, we should be just. You complained, a while ago,that the judges of the Vestals had ignored both the facts and theevidence. Let us weigh the evidence and stick to the facts. Theonly fact you present is that you caught Calvaster lurking inyour house. You confess that you were completely puzzled as towhat motive brought him there. Your friend surmises anexplanation which disgusts, insults and alarms you. You instantlycredit it completely, think and act as if it were unquestionablytrue. I am prejudiced against Calvaster, as I have told you, yetI am by no means ready to admit that your beliefs about him areevidence against him, more particularly as they rest solely onFlexinna's ingenious conjectures. The notion is plausible and itis entirely congruent with Calvaster's character as I imagine it.Yet it is, after all, merely a plausible surmise. I am just asinclined to accept Calvaster's own explanation; he is aninquisitive busybody.

"My verdict is that you need feel no alarm."

"But I do," Brinnaria maintained; "I do not feel safe withCalvaster anywhere about."

The Emperor reflected.

"The peace of mind of a Vestal," he said, "is a matter of suchimportance to the state that I should not hesitate about orderingCalvaster banished to some comfortable and healthy island andthere detained permanently, were it not that the fellow has madehimself almost indispensable. The pestilence has carried offpractically all the adepts at interpretation of the sacredwritings, the prophetic books, the rubrics and rituals of thevarious temples, the statutes of the brotherhoods and otherorders of the hierarchy. Only Numerius Aproniarius remains of theolder experts, and he is afflicted by an incurable and loathsomedisease which he cannot long survive. Of the younger men onlyCalvaster has displayed any aptitude for learning this delicateand complex art, only he has attained any reputation. He is, inthe circ*mstances, indispensable, I cannot banish him merely toplease you. You will have to endure Calvaster."

Brinnaria pulled a wry face, as in her mutinous girlhood. Shefelt entirely at ease with Aurelius.

"I perceive that I must endure him," she said, "but if youcannot banish Calvaster, perhaps you'll oblige me by banishingAlmo."

"Almo!" the Emperor exclaimed, "what can you have against thatgallant lad? Have you turned against him? I thought you wereunshakably resolved to marry him, thought you loved himunalterably!"

"I shall marry him, if we both live," Brinnaria replied, "andmost unalterably love him. But I love life and daylight and freshair and my full meals even more. I have a splendid appetite, Iloath stuffy places, I hate the dark. The idea of being shut inan underground cell to suffocate slowly or starve to death evenmore slowly goes against my gorge. I see myself in my mind's eyeclimbing down that ladder, like poor Cornelia, I see myselfstretched out on my cot, watching the ladder being pulled up bythe executioner, watching the workmen fitting in the last stoneof the vault. I imagine myself staring at the wick of the lampand wondering how long the oil will last and debating whether itwould be better to blow out the light and save the oil to drinkand so live longer in the dark, or to let the lamp burn out andhave the discomfort of the light a little longer. I fancy myselfconning over the trifle of bread, milk, fruit and wine left onthe stone slab, and speculating as to how long they'll keep mealive.

"Bah!

"No burial alive for me.

"Acquittal on a trial is a poor way for a Vestal to escape theworst possible fate, a last resort, at best, and an unchancyreliance, even as a last resort. A far better way is never to betried, and the best way never to be tried is never to be accused.You've been good enough to tell me that if I were accused you'dbe predisposed to favor me in all possible ways and that you'llgive instructions as to your opinion of me. Any directions ofyours would be respected by any heir of yours. But you yourselfhave just remarked how slender is an Emperor's hold on life or onpower. I may survive both yourself and your son. I might be triedbefore men we should never think of now. I must arrange so that Ishall never be tried at all, I must live so that I shall never beaccused.

"Now I am unlikely ever to be accused in relation to any manexcept Almo. Everybody knows I mean to marry Almo when my serviceis at an end, everybody knows he means to marry me, everybodyknows we are in love with each other. That puts me in the mostdelicate position any Vestal ever was placed in. I have beenextremely careful. I have never spoken to Almo since I was takenfor a Vestal, have never met him except by accident, have neverset eyes on him except against my will; have never even written aletter to him or received one from him. I have been, I think,wise, judicious and controlled. But Almo has not behaved welltowards me."

"Indeed!" Aurelius interjected. "You surprise me! What has hedone?"

Brinnaria flushed.

"A girl in love," she said, "is a fool, but she has senseenough to conceal her foolishness. A man is different. I supposem*n are made that way and can't help themselves. But a man inlove is not only a fool, but he parades his foolishness. Almosent me messages by all sorts of mutual acquaintances, by hispeople and mine, by Flexinna, by Nemestronia, by Vocco, beggingme to exchange letters with him. I was angry and said so andrepeatedly sent him word that he was most foolish and mostinconsiderate. I sent him word that if he wanted to please mehe'd ignore my existence and stay as far from me as possible.

"He actually begged his father to be allowed to come to Rome.His father had the good sense to keep him at Falerii. Now thatall his relatives are dead and he is his own master he has cometo Rome. If he had any real consideration for me he'd go toAquileia, at least he might be satisfied with a popular resortlike Baiae or a place like Capua; Capua has enough baths andshows and horse-races and gladiators for anybody.

"But he must come to Rome, when a spark of sense and decencywould tell him to keep as far away as he could. It stands toreason that I could never be accused of misconduct with him if hehad never been within a hundred miles of me since I was taken fora Vestal.

"But he must needs come to Rome. He has opened his house onthe Carinae and had it put in order and has settled down to sucha life here as is usual with wealthy leisured idlers. He hasbought additional furniture, as if his father's house wasn'tstuffed with everything magnificent, he has bought curios andantiques and statuary and pictures and books. He spends most ofhis time in the barracks of his favorite gladiatorial company orat the stables of the Greens, and the rest of it at the afternoonbaths. I sent Vocco to him to protest and to urge him to leaveRome for my sake. The selfish wretch said he loved me and alwayswould, but he just could not live anywhere except at Rome. Hestays here, in defiance of my wishes and against all reason."

"That is not what I should have expected of him," the Emperormeditated. "I am surprised and far from pleased. I shallcertainly find means to relieve your mind as far as he isconcerned."

"There is worse yet to tell," Brinnaria went on. "You'd thinkthat, if he must stay in Rome he'd at least have the decency tokeep away from me and from places where he is likely to encounterme. He does just the reverse. He haunts me, he waylays me. Heprowls up and down the Via Sacra and the Via Nova, he stands inthe moonlight and stares up at the outside windows of the Atrium;on festival days he waits outside of our entrance to theColosseum or of the Circus Maximus to watch me enter; on any dayhe loiters about the portal of the Atrium to watch me come out tomy litter or my carriage, he dogs me on my airings."

"Hercules!" Aurelius exclaimed. "This is too bad!"

"Too bad indeed," Brinnaria pursued; "it would be bad enoughfrom anybody in his position, from him it is ten times worse thanfrom anyone else. You know how individual Almo is, how almostpeculiar he looks, how no one would mistake him for anyone elseor forget him or fail to recognize him. I have often tried toanalyze the factors that go to make him look so striking, but Icannot. He is perfectly proportioned in every measurement, yet,somehow, he has a long-armed and long-legged appearance differentfrom that of any young man in Rome, he gives almost the effect ofreminding one of a spider or of a grasshopper or of a daddy-long-legs. It makes him the most conspicuous, the most recognizableman in all Rome. Why, if your son were to mingle in a crowd,habited like any other boy in that crowd and Almo did the same,and nobody in the crowd had any reason to expect to see either,Almo would most likely be noticed sooner than Antoninus,recognized more generally, more readily, further off andquicker."

"You are right," Aurelius mused, "I never thought of that, butAlmo is unforgettable, striking and arresting to the eye beyondany lad in our nobility."

"And being what he is," Brinnaria raged, "he must needsarrange that nearly every crowd I am in should see him at thesame time as me. Already thousands of reputable Romans mustremember seeing us at the same glance. Before long the majoritywill be ready to recall, if the subject is broached, that theyhave habitually seen him wherever they saw me. Some one willstart the talk and presently all Rome will buzz with the gossipthat we are continually seen together. A charming state ofaffairs for me if some busybody or some enemy of mine raises thequestion of my fitness for my holy duties! I have protested. I'vehad Vocco go to Almo and urge all these considerations on him,and the silly boy says he can't live without seeing me, that helongs for the sight of me so he cannot control himself. How'sthat for lover's folly? One minute he can't live away from Rome,he loves Rome more than he loves me; the next minute I'm the oneobject on earth which he must behold or die. I've no patiencewith such imbecility."

"And I have very little," said the Emperor; "just enough toimagine a better way of disburdening you and of disposing of Almothan banishing him would be. The lad is far too good to bewasting his time with the horse-jockeys and charioteers andostlers of the Greens, or brutalizing himself with thecompanionship of ruffianly prize-fighters, belonging to this orthat speculator in the flesh of ferocious savages. He must findsome outlet for his energies and interests and is carried away bythe fashionable mania, which is corrupting our whole population,especially our young nobles, and which, even at his tender age,fills the thoughts of my son, to the despair of his tutors.

"All Almo needs is worthy occupation. I'll put the sea betweenhim and you and so put your mind at rest. I'll make a man of himat the same time. I'll appeal to his pride and his patriotism.Rome needs such keen-minded, capable youths on the frontiers.I'll not give him too hard or too unpleasant employment, notrelegate him to Britain or Dacia or Syria. I'll send him toAfrica to chase the desert nomads who are harrying the borders ofNumidia and Mauretania. He can gain credit there without danger,can learn to command men and to know the great game of war. Nepteand Bescera are pleasant little cities—he will becomfortable between campaigns. I'll see he sets out the day afterto-morrow, at latest."

XI. — FAREWELL

TWO days later, Brinnaria had a visit fromFlexinna. Flexinna's eyes were dancing.

"G-G-Guess where I've been," she challenged.

"I'm not good at guessing," Brinnaria parried; "better tellme."

"I've b-b-been to the Palace," Flexinna revealed.

"What took you there?" Brinnaria queried, surprised.

"I was sent for," Flexinna declared, elated.

"Who'd you see?" Brinnaria enquired.

"The Emperor himself," proclaimed Flexinna triumphantly.

Brinnaria was very much astonished.

"Better tell me the whole story," she suggested.

"Not much story," said Flexinna. "Aurelius t-t-told me that hewanted t-t-to see you again and that, as a formal visit from theEmperor as P-P-Pontifex Maximus at the Atrium was unusual and waslikely to c-c-cause g-g-gossip, whereas you Vestals are c-c-continually at the Palace to ask favors for all sorts of peoplewho p-p-pester you to use your influence with the Emperor, hethought it b-b-best to suggest that you apply for an audience t-t-to-morrow. He said he wanted the intimation c-c-conveyed to youas unobtrusively as p-p-possible and d-d-desired p-p-particularlythat no one should ever know or g-g-guess that it had b-b-been g-g-given. So he sent for me, as your b-b-best friend, since he wassure I would never t-t-tell anybody.

"B-B-Better send along your application for an audience. Itwas p-p-plain to me that he has something agreeable to t-t-tellyou. His face was just as g-g-grave as usual but his eyessparkled at me, as d-d-different as p-p-possible from theirhabitual dull filmed appearance. He was all k-k-kindliness andanticipation."

"I'm willing to take the hint, of course," Brinnariareplied.

Next morning she found Aurelius most cordial and informal inhis greeting to her.

"I've been investigating Almo," he said, "and I am more thanpleased with all I can learn of him. I see no reason for nottelling you that, from the very day you were taken as a Vestal,some of the most expert, secret and trustworthy men in the employof the information department have had no other duties than tokeep close watch upon you and Almo. I have been over all thepapers relating to him and to you, I have talked with the menthemselves. They all assure me that never once have you and Almomet since he reached your father's house a half hour too late.They also report that, in the course of his injudicious mooningsabout your haunts, he has always kept at a respectful distance.And except for those same loverly danglings about places where hemight catch glimpses of you, I can find nothing against the lad.Everybody speaks most highly of him. His former tutors andpreceptors are enthusiastic in their laudations of hiscapacities, abilities, diligence and attainments in all matterspertaining to books and study. About Falerii he was regarded as afine specimen of a young nobleman, huntsman and swimmer, good atall rustic sports, as haughty as the proudest when he was givengood cause to assert himself, but habitually affable, unassumingand sunny tempered. Towards his father's tenants and slaves hewas most kindly and nothing could be more to any man's creditthan his downright heroic behavior from the very day thepestilence appeared on his estates, all through the frightfulperiod of its raging about Falerii, until the neighborhood hadsomewhat recovered after the plague had abated.

"The most extraordinary feature of the reports about him isthat they all agree as to his amazing devotion to you. Allpersons who know him or know of him are unanimous in the opinionthat he has never taken the slightest personal interest in anyhuman being except yourself; all are emphatic in stating that hehas certainly never manifested any affection for anyone else.This is unprecedented. I never heard of such another case. Thereis nothing astonishing about a young Roman declaring that hewould remain unmarried for thirty years in order to mate,ultimately, with the girl of his choice. There is nothingwonderful about his keeping his word. But any other youth I everheard of would have consoled himself variously, and variedly.Almo's austere celibacy is a portent in our world and altogethermarvellous. It lifts his affair with you out of the humdrumatmosphere of to-day and puts it on a level with the legendarystories of heroic times, with the life-long fidelities of theMilesian tales.

"Under the stress of such severe and unflinching selfisolation I do not wonder that his broodings drove him tooverstep the bounds of common sense, that he was irresistiblycompelled to leave Falerii, to come to Rome, to loiter where hemight, at least, behold you at a distance. I shall make sure thathe does so no longer. This very day he sets out for Carthage,Theveste and the deserts to the south beyond the lagoons ofNepte. But I cannot be angry with him for being unable torestrain his longing at least to set eyes on you. And I see noreason why you two, who have not exchanged a word in more thannine years, should not meet here in this room and say farewell toeach other before I put the Mediterranean between you."

Brinnaria sprang up.

"I see many reasons," she declared, "and my feelings are allagainst seeing Almo until my service as a Vestal is ended."

"I can well believe," came the answer, "that you feel that wayat the first presentation of the idea. But I am your Emperor andalso Chief Pontiff of Rome. I am engaged at present in solvingthe problem of ow best to ensure peace of mind to one of Rome'sVestals. To ensure her peace of mind I am about to relegate herfuture husband to important duties on a far frontier of theEmpire. I judge that he will better perform his duties, that shewill better perform hers, if she bids him farewell in mypresence. I am a lover of wisdom and a student of wisdom.* Ibelieve I possess some pretensions to wisdom. Will you not deferto me in this? I am of the opinion that he will worry less aboutyou and you less about him if you see each other once before yourtwenty years of certain separation begins."

*The wisdom of Marcus Aurelius was recognized during hislifetime and is highly regarded even today, over 1900 yearslater. His book, Meditations, remains in print and isavailable through Project Gutenberg at http://promo.net/cgi-promo/pg/t9.cgi?entry=2680&full=yes&ftpsite=http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/

Brinnaria looked mutinous and gazed at the Emperor in silence.In silence he waited for her to speak. At last she said,curtly:

"I bow to your authority."

The Emperor struck his silver gong and a page appeared.Aurelius gave a brief order. A few moments later Almo was usheredin. After his formal salute to the Emperor he stood silent, hiseyes fixed on Brinnaria.

They made a fine picture. The ceiling of the immense hall wasa barrel-vault, of which the beams were stuccoed in cream-white,picked out with gilding, while between them the depth of eachsoffit was colored an intense deep blue, against which stood outa great gilt rosette. The mighty pilasters, whose gilded capitalssupported the vaulting, were of many-veined dark yellow marble,polished and gleaming like the slabs of pale yellow marble whichpanelled the interspaces. The high-moulded wainscot was of redand green porphyry, somberly smooth and shining. Against it,below the wall-panels, were set great chests of carved and gildedwood, while about the bases of the pilasters were placed groupsof settees and armchairs, similarly carved and gilded and richlyupholstered. The floor was paved with an intricate mosaic ofparti-colored bits of marble, its expanse broken only by thegreat gorgeous carpet before the throne, by the chair set forBrinnaria, by the onyx table, supported on sculptured monsterslike griffons, beside the throne, and by the throne itself, acurule seat of ivory mounted with gold, its crimson cushionglowing, set far out in the room.

Before the throne stood Aurelius, his head bare, the longringlets of his hair and beard sweeping his shoulders and hisbosom, one foot a trifle advanced, the gold eagle embroidered onhis sky-blue buskin showing beneath the crimson silk robes,lavishly embroidered with a complicated pattern of winding vines,bright blue and green, edged with gold, which the etiquette ofthe time imposed upon even a philosophically austere Emperor; onhis right Brinnaria, erect and tense in her white official habit,her square white headdress all but hiding her coronet of darkbraids, her veil pushed back from her flushed face; the tasselsand ribbons of her head-band, her great pearl necklace, the bigpearl brooch that fastened the folds of her headdress where theycrossed on her breast, and the bunch of fresh white flowers whichit clasped, rising and falling with the heaving of her bosom;facing her, splendid in the gilded armor and scarlet cloak of acommander of irregular cavalry, Almo.

"You know why I have sent for you," Aurelius reminded him."Speak out."

Like a school-boy repeating a lesson by rote, Alma spoke.

"Brinnaria," he said, "the Emperor has remonstrated with me onmy recent folly. I am sincerely ashamed of myself and I wish toapologize to you for my lack of self-control and for my lack ofconsideration for you. I leave Rome before sunset and shall notreturn until I may return without danger to you."

Aurelius looked at Brinnaria.

"Caius," she said, "I forgive you. I trust that you will winpromotion and honor where you are going and I am sure that youwill do your duty to the Empire. May the blessing of all the godsbe on you and may you return to me safe and well."

"And may I find you safe and well when I return," spoke Almo."Farewell, Brinnaria."

"Farewell, Caius," said she.

The Emperor nodded and Almo bowed himself out.

"Do you know," said Aurelius, when they were alone, "I havebeen thinking over what you said about Almo's peculiar notabilityof looks. It puzzles me as it puzzles you. He is not merely ofdistinguished appearance, he is unusual, striking, unforgettable,conspicuous. I have talked about it to several of my gentlemen-in-waiting, equerries and orderlies. They have seen him latelyabout the stables of the Greens. They all say that he is, infact, as normally proportioned as any youth alive, but theyconfirm what you said about his long-legged appearance. Julianusused almost the same word you used, said Almo looked'Grasshoppery.' They all say Almo is precisely the mostunmistakable, the most readily and quickly recognizable youth inall our young nobility."

Brinnaria rose to go. Aurelius bent on her a kindly smile.

"I have been talking about you with Faustina," he said. "Weare both much interested by the strangeness of your fate, by thedifficulty and delicacy of your situation and by the wonderfulconstancy of you both. Faustina and I are a most united pair,never happy out of each other's company and very proud of ourdomestic felicity. We are, if I may use the word, rather prone togloat over it, and, while continually congratulating ourselvesand each other, we cannot but mourn the infrequency of suchhappiness throughout our Italian nobility. There are few matronsin Rome as serenely happy as your friend Flexinna, few indeed whofind all their happiness in children, husband and household. Andof those who really enjoy their homes most are remarried after adivorce, or even after two or more. Our society suffers from aplague worse than the pestilence itself, a plague of greed forexcitement, eagerness for novelty, of peevishness andfickleness.

"In this unhealthy atmosphere such households as Vocco's aremost notable. And that you, who seem by nature fitted for justsuch blessedness as has befallen Flexinna, should have beenrobbed of it by a strange series of peculiar circ*mstances winsfor you our interest and our solicitude. Still more are ourhearts drawn towards you by your unwavering fidelity, alike toyour present duties and all that they imply and to that lovewhich you have had to put away and forget, to the ideal of thatfelicity which you have had to postpone so far.

"Faustina desires an interview with you. She is now in theamber gallery. I shall have you conducted there, if you do notobject."

Brinnaria could not very well object and after an equerry,very stately in his garb of duty, and two gaudily clad pages hadescorted her through what seemed like miles of corridors, shefound herself alone with the Empress.

The Empress she had so far seen infrequently and spoken withonly seldom. It was impossible to be a Vestal, in the heyday ofRome's Imperial times, and not meet and know the Empress of Rome.Brinnaria had seen her whenever they were both present at theCircus or the Amphitheatre; had been close to her at allimportant state functions; had occasionally dined with her atformal Palace banquets, when the curved sofa about the Empress'table was always occupied by the Empress, the wives of the chiefFlamens and the Vestals; but had hardly ever exchanged a wordwith her.

Faustina was endowed with the general healthiness with whichRoman noblewomen were blessed. But she had had the bad luck tosuffer from many and severe illnesses. These and her slowrecoveries from them had kept her away from very many officialfunctions and public festivals. Numerous had been the occasionson which Aurelius had appeared without her. When she was well,indeed, they were always together, if possible. A greatproportion of his time, however, was occupied with officialduties of such a nature that, according to Roman etiquette, nowoman could participate in them. During such enforced separationsFaustina sought amusem*nt. And with the overflowing energy andabounding vigor which she displayed between her illness, shethrew herself into the whirl of her pleasures with suchimpetuosity, there was so much rollicking and roistering abouther favorite diversions that she attracted to herself and keptaround her just those elements of Roman society with which theVestals were least likely to mingle, professional idlers, andwhat we moderns would call the fast set. Naturally, therefore,Brinnaria and Faustina had never had any familiar intercourse.This was their first real conversation.

Faustina was not a large woman. She was of medium height,slender and graceful. She was noted for the originality of hercoiffures, which made the most of her magnificent hair. Her hairBrinnaria noticed the moment her eyes fell on her.

Her habitual expression of haughtiness and boredom hadvanished from the Empress's face and she was all kindliness andsolicitude.

Faustina put her at her ease at once.

"I have always been so sorry," she began, "that I was ill theday you climbed over the balustrade of the podium and rescued theretiarius. I've missed many a sight I regretted, I miss so muchby falling ill again and again, but I never missed a sight Iregretted missing more than that. Nothing more worth seeing everhappened in the Colosseum."

"I was terribly ashamed when I found what I had done," saidBrinnaria.

"Of course you were," the Empress agreed.

This broke the ice between them and Faustina led her into along talk about all her past, her love affair, her life as aVestal, her bereavements, her embarrassing circ*mstances, herfuture, her hopes.

Brinnaria left the Empress, feeling that she had found a realfriend and also feeling comforted at heart.

XII. — OBSERVANCES

BRINNARIA found that, with Almo definitely andpermanently out of the way, she did not worry about Calvaster.She also found that she did not worry about Almo and that herglimpse of him had rather calmed her feelings. She confessed asmuch to Aurelius when she had a third audience with him before heleft for the Rhine frontier, and she thanked him for hisinsistence.

With her mind at peace Brinnaria settled more and more intothe routine of her life and enjoyed it more and more.

She came to feel keenly the spiritual significance of everydetail of the ritual observances in which she took part. Besidesthe maintenance of the sacred fire, the Vestals had manyobligatory duties. Every sacrifice of the Roman public worshipinvolved the sprinkling of the sacred meal upon the head of thevictim, if a live animal was offered, or upon the fire, if thesacrifice was bloodless. Early in each ceremony one of the smallboys assisting the priest carried around to all the participantsin the act of worship a maple-wood box containing the holy meal;from it each worshipper ladled a small portion into the palm ofhis right hand; at a specified point in the course of theceremonial each participant sprinkled the meal as prescribed.

The holy meal was made of very coarsely ground wheat, a sortof grits, salted and toasted. It was prepared by the Vestalsaccording to immemorial custom. They were supplied with asufficient quantity of heads of wheat, the best of the produce oftwo of their estates, one near Caere, the other near Lanuvium.These wheat ears were packed in baskets and stored on the farmsin dry, airy barns. There they were kept drying and hardeningtheir grains until the next spring. Then the allotted basketswere brought into Rome. On the seventh of May, after a ceremonialof prayer, the three elder Vestals began going over these wheat-ears, sorting out those entirely perfect, and placing them inlarger baskets shaped like the big earthen jars in which theRomans commonly tored wheat, olives, oil, wine and other similarsupplies. On the next day the wheat from the first day'sselection of ears was separated from the straw, beards and chaff,was roasted and coarsely ground. The resultant groats were thenput away in great earthen jars in the outer storeroom of thetemple. On the third day they again selected wheat ears, on thefourth they again prepared wheat-grits, arid so on alternatelyfor eight days. By the evening of the eighth day they had storedenough groats to make the sacred meal for one year's ceremoniesof the entire Roman ritual.

The salt with which they salted the holy meal was preparedwith similar invariable formality. Crude salt, obtained fromevaporated sea-water out of the sand-pits on the seashore nearLavinium, was conveyed to the Atrium in small two-handledearthenware jars. This coarse, dirty, dark-colored salt wasdissolved by the three younger Vestals in boiling water, whichwater might not be obtained from the lead pipes which connectedthe Atrium with the general water-supply of the city's aqueducts,but must be drawn by the Vestals themselves and carried by themin the earthenware jars from the famous fountain of Jaturna, atwhich Castor and Pollux were fabled to have watered their whitehorses after bringing to Rome the news of the victory at LakeRegillus. The solution was purified by repeated boilings, theimpurities being gotten rid of by successive careful decantingsof the liquid from one vessel into another, so that the sedimentmight be left behind as the top part was poured off. Whensufficiently boiled down the solution was recrystallized inshallow earthenware pans. The resulting slabs of salt were harderthan the pans and were freed from them by breaking theearthenware with an ancient stone hammer, said to have beencaptured by AEneas himself from a king of Ardea. The slabs ofsalt were sawed into pieces with an iron saw, the pieces werepounded in a mortar, the fine salt was thrown into an earthenwarebowl and dried out in a kiln. When dried a little powdered gypsumwas stirred through it to prevent it from again becoming moist.It was then stored in a tall jar with a tight lid, which was keptin the outer storeroom of the temple, along with the jars ofmeal. Three times a year, on the ninth of June, on the thirteenthof September and on the fifteenth of February, with solemnprayers the Vestals mixed the prepared salt with the preparedgrits, the resultant mixture being the sacred meal.

On each First of March the fire in the temple was allowed togo out and was solemnly rekindled by the friction of maple woodon apple wood, as when the fire went out by accident. The templewas then decorated with fresh boughs of green laurel, after theboughs put up the year before had been removed.

On May fifteenth the Vestals were the chief figures in asolemn procession of the entire Roman hierarchy to the Sublicianbridge, from which the Vestals threw into the Tiber thirty dollsmade of rushes, fifteen representing men, fifteen women, eachabout two feet high.

This offering to the river of effigies of men and womencommemorated the primitive human sacrifices by which the riverwas each year placated, that it might not drown more byfloods.

On June fifth the inner storeroom of the temple was opened andits treasures inspected by the Pontifex wearing his antiquevestments. With him entered always also the Chief Vestal clad inher austere habit with all her badges of office. They wereattended by the other Vestals, who went through traditionalpacings, haltings and prayers. The Temple of Vesta was anenclosure from which all men were rigidly excluded. The onlyexceptions to this immemorial taboo were a few of the moreimportant Pontiffs, and they might only enter on specified festaldays, and then must be in their full regalia. Also, in general,the temple was closed against all women except the Vestals andtheir assistants. It was open, however, from sunrise on themorning of each seventh of June until sunset on the evening ofthe fourteenth of June. During this period it was incumbent uponevery Roman matron to visit the temple. And each worshipper mustwalk the entire distance from her home to the temple and mustleave her house barefoot, barefoot she must walk from the templeto her home. Only illness excused a Roman woman from thisreligious duty. Few ever omitted it from indifference.

During these eight days the temple was thronged.

During these eight days also fell the great yearly festival ofVesta, on the ninth of June, on which day also all millers keptholiday, with processions and picnics to which the mill-donkeyswere led decorated with wreaths of flowers and strings of tiny,crisp-baked rolls.

On June fifteenth the temple was ceremonially cleaned and thesweepings and the ashes collected from the sacred fire for theyear past were solemnly carried in a stately procession to aprescribed spot on the slope of the Capitol where a great pit wasclosed by a heavy maple-wood door. In this pit the ashes werereverently buried.

Besides these observances of their special cult the Vestalstook part in nearly every important sacrifice, procession andfestival of the public worship of Rome. They were busy women andamong them Brinnaria was anything but idle. She never found timehang heavy on her hands.

So busied with her duties she passed three peaceful years,contented and happy. There was but one drawback to life in theAtrium from Brinnaria's point of view. That drawback was Meffia.Meffia was never ill but never well. Everything tired her. Ittired her to walk upstairs, to stand for any length of time, todo anything. She was forever sitting down to rest or lying downto rest. Excitement exhausted her totally. She was a perpetualworry to the other Vestals.

Otherwise Brinnaria was very happy. Through Flexinna she hadfrequent news of Almo. Ancient Rome had no institution, public orprivate, in any way corresponding to our post office. But routesof trade and travel by land and sea were well defined and trafficalong them fairly regular, on the most used routes almostcontinual. There were private organizations, vaguely resemblingour modern express companies, which forwarded merchandise alongthe main-travelled routes and even into remote regions. Theirmessengers took charge of bales, boxes and packages of all sizesand also of letters. The service on the roads of Africa, fromBescera, Nepte and Putea along the frontier of the desert,through Lambese, Capsa and Thysdrus, to Carthage, by well-builtvehicles with frequent relays of horses on the excellenthighroads was fairly good. The ships from Sicily plied withalmost the regularity of our ocean-liners. Roads and road-servicein Sicily were of a high quality of excellence. The transit toItaly at Messina was a sort of ferry. Italy was served by anetwork of roads always busy. Almo's letters to Flexinna werefairly regular and Vocco heard frequently from his friends amongAlmo's brother officers and sometimes from his militarysuperiors.

Almo was an immediate and brilliant success as a leader ofscouting expeditions, cavalry dashes, and, within a year, ofraids in considerable force. His men adored him at once; hisfellow-officers found him excellent company, unassuming andcompanionable, his commanders came early to rely on him. He wonan excellent reputation and was universally regarded as a youngofficer of great promise, likely to rise to high position and notunlikely to become famous.

This kind of news delighted Brinnaria and promoted her peaceof mind. In great contentment she went about her duties, lovingthem more and more from month to month, preparing the blessedsalt, assisting at sacrifices, participating in processions.

Also interest in music and enjoyment of music came to playmore and more a part in her spiritual life. As a child she hadhated music and had been in continual conflict with her musicalgovernesses. Even after she entered the Atrium her aversion tolearning anything about music had given Causidiena a great dealof trouble. Later Brinnaria was docile, but the reverse ofenthusiastic. Only after Almo's departure for Africa did musicbegins to mean anything to her.

But one keyed instrument was known to the ancients. That was aform of organ, in effect and appearance not very dissimilar to asmall portable modern organ, with one bank of keys. Itsmechanism, however, was very different in respect to theconstruction of the pipe stops and bellows. In particular, thesteady flow of air to the pipes was obtained from the pressure ofwater, and a receptacle partly filled with water was an essentialpart of every Roman organ. From this feature it was called thewater-organ. The Emperor Nero had been a notable performer on thewater-organ and had interested himself in some improvements inits mechanism.

As with the modern organ, so with the Roman water-organ, thesonorous, sustained and resonant notes lent themselves naturallyto the expression of religious emotion.

Religious emotions, Brinnaria, at this period of her life,felt to an overwhelming extent. She expressed them in longcolloquies with Numisia and Causidiena, in a tendency to beunnecessarily careful about her duties, to pet her daily routine,as it were; and in an awakening to the charms of music in generaland of organ music in particular. She developed into a capableperformer on the water-organ, bought for herself the finest to befound in all Rome, had it set up in the Atrium in place of theold one which had belonged to the order of Vestals, and satbefore it for hours at a time.

Her solitary communings with her favorite instrument becameher chief solace when she was: low-spirited, which was seldom,and her favorite diversion when she was high-spirited, which wasoften. Moreover, her rendition of well-known airs and heimprovisings came to be a great pleasure to all the inmates ofthe Atrium, most of all to Causidiena.

Besides her many duties and her indoor amusem*nts, Brinnariafound time for much activity outside the Atrium. She had kept upher girlish friendship for the sieve-maker Truttidius, and sawhim occasionally, sometimes ordering her litter halted before hisshop and leaning out to ask after his health and that of hisfamily. Truttidius had an ailing household, though he himself wasalways well and never seemed to get any older.

From her talks with Truttidius she came to take a personalinterest in the welfare of the countless tenants in her manyproperties in the poorer quarters of the city. She visited someof them-a sort of approach to modern slumming by thephilanthropic rich. Such actions on the part of a landowner andsuch an attitude of mind from any rich person toward the poor wasvery unusual in the ancient world. Her behavior in this regardwon Brinnaria a sort of fame among the poor, as if she were alive goddess moving among them.

She had a healthy love of mere enjoyment too. Except when shehappened to be on duty watching the sacred fire, she never misseda theatrical performance, a gladiatorial display or an exhibitionof chariot-racing in anyone of the vast race-courses flanked bytiers of stone-seats, which the Romans called circuses. At allshows, whether of scenic artists, fighting men or speedinghorses, the Vestals had specified seats, as good as the best.

Besides these formal pleasures, she took great delight inmixing in society merely for society's sake. Moderns are likelyto imagine that the Vestals of ancient Rome were nuns orsomething like nuns. They were nothing of the sort. They weremaiden ladies of wealth and position whose routine duties broughtthem into familiar association with all the men important in theRoman government, hierarchy, nobility and gentry and with theirwives and daughters. They were women of such importance in theirworld that their acquaintance was sought by all who had anypretensions to being entitled to meet them and by shoals ofsocial bounders who had none. Their influence was so powerfulthat they were unremittingly sought, waylaid, pursued andbesieged by persons who hoped to enlist their interest in theappointment or promotion of this, that or the other connection orrelative; by the same persons they were continually overwhelmedwith presents of flowers, fruit, delicacies, dainties, ornaments,laces, garments, pieces of furniture, horses, slaves, and ofanything and everything capable of being made a present of in theRoman world; likewise with social invitations-chiefly to dinners,banquets and feasts. Invitations to banquets and dinnersBrinnaria seldom declined, unless her duties made acceptanceimpossible or the invitation came from people beneath her notice.As she had said to Aurelius, she had an excellent appetite. Shehad an epicurean tendency from her early years and was fond ofoysters, sweetbreads, eels, thrushes, turbot and other articlesof food esteemed as delicacies by the Romans. But she was ahearty eater and consumed generous portions of roast meats,particularly of pork, which even in late imperial times was thestaple of Roman diet. She never lost her childish relish forboiled pork and cabbage, for bacon, for ham, hot or cold. She wasby no means a glutton, ate deliberately and daintily, and whileshe ate, joined in the general conversation or even led it. Shehad a quick wit and a sharp tongue and her sallies wereacclaimed. She was sought after as a guest not merely because shewas a Vestal, but for herself, for her gaiety and her unexpectedutterances.

On the whole she preferred informal dinners to formal banquetsand liked better to dine with her friends than with the mostluxurious entertainers in Roman society.

With Vocco and Flexinna she dined frequently, three times amonth at least and generally oftener. Brinnaria loved children,especially babies, and there was always a baby in the Istorianhousehold—Flexinna's babies were all healthy and grewfamously. Of the six children, Brinnaria could not have toldwhich she loved or which loved her most. Her arrivals were alwaysheralded with shouts of glee, her romps with the children alwaysput her in a good humor, her swim with Flexinna sharpened anappetite which needed no edge, while the cosiness and informalityof Flexinna's dining-room, where each of the three had undividedpossession of one entire sofa, made it certain that nothingmarred her enjoyment.

XIII. — PERVERSITY

ABOUT three years after her farewell to Almo, onentering Vocco's house one afternoon, Brinnaria had apresentiment of something wrong. The children were as vociferousand as whimsical as usual, but there was a nameless difference inFlexinna's expression and bearing. As soon as they were alone intheir bath, after she had had one good plunge in the pool,Brinnaria, treading water in the deepest part of the tank,shaking her head like a wet spaniel, demanded:

"What is the matter? There's something wrong. You might aswell tell me."

But Flexinna put her off and laughed at her insistence.

To Brinnaria the laughter seemed forced and so did the talk atdinner. No sooner was the dinner over and the tray of figs,almonds and pomegranates and other fruit on the table, than shewhispered to Flexinna:

"Tell the servants to stay out. I want to talk." Flexinnasigned to Vocco and they exchanged glances.

"Why did you keep up the farce so long?" Brinnaria sneered. "Isaw through it from the first."

"We were afraid," Vocco apologized, "that what I have to tellyou would spoil your appetite."

"It would take something pretty bad to spoil my appetite,"Brinnaria reflected. "Is Almo dead?"

?Not so b-b-bad as that," spoke Flexinna.

"Tell me, Quintus," Brinnaria breathed.

Vocco fidgeted.

"It's an amazing story," he began.

"All his story, all my story, all our story," Brinnaria cutin, "is amazing. Leave out the comments and tell the story."

"While Almo was away on the expedition against the nomads ofthe plateau," Vocco narrated, "Pennasius fell ill, was allowed toresign his governorship and Grittonius took his place. On Almo'sreturn Grittonius complimented him most highly and promised himany reward he asked for. Almo amazed him by asking for a full andhonorable discharge from the army. Grittonius expostulated withhim but Almo held him to his promise. In spite of the governor'sappeals to his pride and to his patriotism he insisted, andGrittonius gave him his full official discharge. At once Almoapplied for permission to sell himself as a slave. This soastounded Grittonius that he made him repeat the applicationbefore witnesses and give his reasons. Almo explained that he hadalways been devoted to horseracing and that he wanted formallyand regularly to article himself to one of the racing companiesas a charioteer; that he had always craved that life and hadlonged for it more and more as his career as a soldier went on.He said there was no use in his continuing a life he detested,nor missing the happiness he anticipated as a charioteer.

"Grittonius had him examined by a committee of the mostreputed physicians of the province. They reported Almo entirelysane. Grittonius wanted to hold the matter over until he hadspecial permission from the Emperor. Almo craftily maintainedthat Grittonius had been made governor with the fullest powers onall lines specifically to save the Emperor from being botheredabout such trifles. Grittonius yielded. The necessary papers weredrawn up, all the depositions were made out in duplicate. Everyformality was fulfilled and Almo was publicly sold as a slave inthe market place of Hippo."

"What company did he enter?" Brinnaria queried.

"Veppius did not state," Vocco replied; "he merely said thatAlmo sailed the next day for Spain."

"The fool!" Brinnaria cried. "The three fools; a fool of aVeppius to write so vaguely, a fool of a governor to be persuadedso easily and Almo the biggest fool of all!

"What a fool of a lover I have! Are all men like that? I'm asmuch in love with him as he with me and I can behave myselfdecently and keep outwardly calm and observe the conventions oflife. Why can't he be decent? How can it comfort a man in love tothrow away a splendid career, abandon a great income and vanishfrom the ken of all who love him? What madness is this with whichthe gods afflict him? Oh, I could tear my hair with rage!"

To trace Almo everything was done that could be done. Voccohimself set out at once for Hippo. He found that Almo had beensold to a Greek slave-dealer named Olynthides, brother of thewell-known dealer at Rome. He found Olynthides a small man with aclub-foot. He said he remembered the matter, that he had beenemployed to buy Almo and resell him for cash, especially toconceal the real purchaser.

When Vocco expressed astonishment Olynthides said:

"There is nothing to be surprised at, the thing happens everyday. It is a regular feature of slave-trading. There are allsorts of reasons why a man wants a slave without any past. Suchsales are customary and habitual."

When pressed further he retorted:

"Of course I did not ask the buyer's name; equally of course,I did not take any note of him, it was my business to forget him.I didn't notice him when he came into the courtyard, there arealways knots of people coming in all day, looking over the slavesI offer for sale, and going out again. He came in like anybodyelse and looked over my stock. When he spoke to me he had aservant with him carrying a stout leather bag. He indicated Almoand asked his price. I named it.

"'Cash sale,' says he; 'no papers except a bare salecertificate.'

"'Done,' says I.

"He counted out the cash from his servant's bag and I gave himthe customary certificate, with a description of Almo and thestatement:

"'Sold on this day and date for cash' and my signature andseal. That was all there was to it."

When Vocco was persistent, Olynthides averred that he had"heard" that the purchaser's name was Jegius and that he camefrom Cadiz. Vocco could not discover anyone in Hippo who had everheard of a slave-dealer named Jegius.

When Vocco returned to Rome with his report Brinnaria set inmotion all the forces of her world which could be utilized underthe circ*mstances. Aurelius was on the Rhine frontier, butBrinnaria had, by this time, a close acquaintance with allimportant court officers and was on terms of the utmostcordiality with the officials who governed Rome in the Emperor'sabsence. They sympathized with her and put at her disposal allthe machinery of the government secret service. They agreed withher that the matter must be kept quiet, there must be noproclamations, posters, no rewards offered by crier or placard,no publishing of descriptions. With emphatic injunctions ofsecrecy they sent warnings to every provincial governor, to everylocal magistrate, to the aldermen of every free city, toinstitute unobtrusive investigations and to keep unostentatiouswatch. Brinnaria insisted that these mandates should be sent allover the Empire, pointing out that no one could conjecture whatport of the Mediterranean or of the Black Sea might be thedestination of any nameless trading ship. But, with special care,full orders were distributed throughout Spain.

Towards Spain, likewise, Brinnaria directed the energies ofthose organizations of the ancient world which were analogous toour modern private detective bureaus, and upon Spain she focussedthe energies of the managers of the racing companies.

These great corporations were among the most important money-making enterprises of the Roman world. They maintained luxuriousheadquarters in the most congested business districts of thecapital. They had offices adjacent to each of the circuses, theypossessed huge congeries of buildings utilized as stables fortheir crack racers and barracks for their charioteers, andprovided with spacious courtyards for training their teams.Outside of Rome they had similar offices and training-stables inevery city and in most towns of any size or wealth. Besides theyowned countless stud-farms, estates and ranches in every provinceof the Empire and maintained an army of herdsmen, ostlers anddrovers to convoy their horses by land and whole fleets of shipsto transport them by sea.

They were joint-stock companies, and while many smaller onesexisted in various parts of the Empire and a few even at Rome,the small concerns were insignificant and generally ignored. Whenone spoke of the racing-companies one meant the six greatcompanies whose central organizations were domiciled at Rome andwhose ramifications penetrated every district of the Empire.These were known, after the racing-colors of their jockeys, asthe Greens, the Blues, the Reds, the Whites, the Crimsons and theGolds. The Reds and the Whites were the oldest companies, theCrimsons and the Golds were companies established in the heydayof the Empire by coteries of millionaires, the Blues and theGreens were the largest, the wealthiest and the most popular,especially the Greens. In the Greens, somewhere, Brinnariaexpected to find Almo, as he had been enthusiastic about theGreens from boyhood. He had been wearing their leek-green colorsthe day she had sat in his lap in her father's courtyard. He hadhaunted their training-stables during his brief sojourn at Romebefore Aurelius sent him to Africa, he had inherited a big blockof stock in the Greens. In the Greens, likewise, Brinnaria ownedstock; and, having entered into inheritances from more thanseventy different wealthy relatives who had died during thepestilence, she happened to own stock in every one of the sixgreat companies. She had personal friends among the directors ofeach of the six. Therefore it was especially easy for her toenlist their help in her efforts to find Almo. It would have beeneasy, anyhow, since to be able to oblige a Vestal was arefreshing novelty for almost anyone at Rome and to find a Vestalseeking one's influence and one's help, equally novel andrefreshing; generally the shoe was on the other foot—mostpersons in public life in Rome were used to attempting to enlistthe help and the interests of the Vestals for their purposes andwere generally utterly at a loss for any means of requital, ifthe interest of a Vestal was enlisted and her help obtained.

Consequently all that the racing-companies could do to findAlmo was done as well as all that could be done by the privatedetective agencies and by government officials.

All that was done was utterly in vain. No trace of Almo couldbe discovered after he had sailed from Hippo with Jegius. Noslave-dealer named Jegius could be found nor anyone who knew sucha slave-dealer. No clue, no ghost of a clue came to light. TheGreens, like the other companies, could find among theircharioteers, their jockeys, their free employees, their slaves,no individual in the least answering to descriptions of Almo. Allgovernmental efforts, all professional efforts, all privateefforts, all Vocco's efforts, all Brinnaria's efforts, werecompletely baffled.

Almo had completely vanished.

When Aurelius, passing through Rome on his way from the Rhinefrontier to Syria, was in his capital for a brief period,Brinnaria had an audience with him.

"Daughter!" he said, "it is all my fault. I should have givenGrittonius explicit injunctions about the boy. But the assaultsof the Marcomanni were particularly furious just at that time; Iwas feverishly hurrying from point to point along the frontier; Iaccepted the resignation of Pennasius; by letter. I appointedGrittonius by letter; I assumed that Grittonius would have sense;I assumed that Pennasius would impart to him his secretinstructions. I erred by inadvertence; I should have set aspecial watch on the boy. But I never thought of it. He was doingso well and he seemed so interested in his work. He waswonderfully fitted for frontier duty along the desert. I waswatching him with keen interest; each report of him gave megreater pleasure. I do not hesitate to tell you that I had him inmy mind's eye to command this very expedition which I must nowcommand myself, as there is no other man in the Empire fit totake charge of it.

"Is it not a shame that a man whom the Empire needs, who hadbefore him so splendid an opportunity, who was fitting himselffor so brilliant a career, should throw it all away from mereperversity? Yet I am not wrathful against him; I see many reasonsfor sympathizing with him.

"Rigid and unflinching celibacy affects different individualsvery differently. Some it does not affect at all, apparently. Itdoes not seem to affect you. You are as plump and rosy, ashealthy and alert, as happy and normal a young woman, to allappearance, as could be found among matrons of your age in allthe Empire. Celibacy seems to agree with you.

"Manifestly it did not agree with Almo. It got on his nervessomehow. That is the most probable explanation of his eccentricvagary. Don't be discouraged. He'll turn up somewhere, after awhile, safe and sound and none the worse for hisexperiences."

Brinnaria, in fact, was not discouraged. She resolutely andunweariedly prosecuted her efforts to find Almo. Nor was shedespondent. She scouted the suggestion that he might be dead. Shekept up her spirits, did not mope or brood and never lost herhearty appetite. She was the life of the dinners she attended ndas talkative and witty as ever.

But the strain affected her greatly. She was outwardlycontrolled, statuesque and dignified, but the inward turmoil ofemotion that surged through her manifested itself in anunremitting activity. She slept well and soundly, but rose earlyand kept on the go. Besides her duties, her music and herparticipation in social gatherings, she must needs find otheroutlets for her energy, other means to pass her time and distracther thoughts.

In the course of her dealings with the racing companies shebecame interested in them not merely as means towards locatingAlmo, but for themselves. She became particularly interested intheir stables, their jockeys and their horses. There was no barof religious tradition or of social custom which hindered aVestal from freely mingling with men visibly in the open daylightin public. Visiting the stables of the racing companies had longbeen a fad with Rome's social leaders, men and women alike.Brinnaria availed herself of her freedom in this regard andfollowed her inclination. She haunted the training-stables of allsix corporations, but mostly of the Greens, always in companywith Manlia, or Flexinna, or Nemestronia or some other of herwomen friends; she visited the barracks almost daily, chattedwith the charioteers, grooms and ostlers, watched the exercisingof the teams, inspected the stalls, conned the racers.

She made herself an excellent judge of a jockey and a betterjudge of a horse.

She interested herself in the methods by which the companiesobtained and selected their animals. She became an adept on theentire subject of horse-raising. It engrossed her thoughts.

Then she herself took over the management of several of herestates in the environs of Rome; of all, in fact, which were nearenough for her to visit personally. She redistributed the forceof slaves that managed them, sold some, bought others and fittedup the properties as stud-farms. Herself she selected the broodmares and stallions with which to stock these estates. Sheherself laid down the principles guiding their management and sheherself dictated the methods of breeding them. She herselfsuperintended the carrying out of her orders, visiting eachestate frequently and inspecting everything carefully andintelligently.

Her first offering of two-year-olds sold at good prices. Shewas encouraged, felt herself completely an adept, and would takeno one's word about anything relating to horses, relying solelyon her own judgment.

All this would have subjected her to much reprehension hadFaltonius Bambilio survived. But he had died just about the timeof Almo's disappearance. His son, also named Faltonius Bambilio,had taken up a political rather than a priestly life and was notto be thought of as his successor. In his place Aurelius, on hisway to Syria, had nominated Lutorius Rusco, a man who impressedeveryone at first sight, and more and more the better anyone knewhim, as the paragon of a Pontifex. He was not lacking inecclesiastical unction, but did not wallow in it as had Bambilio.He was pious, but did not think it necessary to advertise it dayand night unremittingly. He was not lax in religious matters, buthe was no stickler for minute trifles. He inspired confidence byevery characteristic of his appearance and behavior. He was a mansomewhat over medium height, well built, neither heavy nor large,with an unusually dignified bearing and carriage, not a hint ofself-assertion and with a genially comprehending smile. It wasimpossible not to confide in him and unthinkable that confidingin him should ever be regretted. Brinnaria confided in him andnever regretted it.

Of Almo's disappearance she talked to him freely; freely alsoshe talked of her feelings for Almo. He was as sympathetic andcomprehending as the Emperor and Empress and he encouraged her tohope that Almo was yet alive, which she sometimes doubted.

Of her stock farms he said to her:

"I should certainly not have advised any woman to enter uponsuch an enterprise, least of all a Vestal. I know of no othermember of our hierarchy who has any similar interests, exceptCalvaster, whose haunting of the gladiatorial schools andassociation with trainers of gladiators has given some scandal.Some people would call your horse-breeding unseemly for a Vestal.But I see no harm in it. I have talked with Causidiena and it isclear that you do not neglect or skimp your duties, that you givethem full time and close attention. Your leisure is your own todo with as you please. And your immediate success appears anevidence that, to say the least, your undertakings give nooffence to the gods."

During the latter months of Bambilio's oversight Brinnaria hadfelt restive and as if some inward force was forever driving herto feverish activities; under the care of Lutorius she becameplacid and thought less of her stock-raising, journeys to and froto her estates, talks with grooms and such like activitie anddevoted herself with more cool ardor to her duties.

XIV. — AMAZEMENT

AURELIUS returned from Syria with his victoriousarmy in the nine hundred and twenty-ninth year of Rome, 176 ofour era, ten years after the great pestilence. He had merelycrushed a local rebellion, but a vast coalition of nomadic Arabtribes of the desert had been allied with the rebels, and to theRomans it seemed that their Emperor had won a great victory in amighty campaign. Aurelius humored their mood, and with goodjudgment, for they needed all the encouragement possible. Hearranged to have his return celebrated by shows of all kinds,theatrical performances, fights of gladiators, beast fights,horse-races uncountable and above all, by that thrillingprocession of a victor and his armed soldiers through the cityalong the Sacred Street, up to the great temple on the Capitol,which was the highest honor an army and a commander could receiveat the hands of the Roman government, which signalized a notablevictory over notable odds, which was called a triumph. Oftriumphs Rome had seen fewer than three hundred in more than ninehundred years. Not one of the three hundred had been asmagnificent as the triumph of Aurelius.

Its auxiliary spectacles were similarly magnificent. Inparticular the gladiatorial shows surpassed anything within thememory of the oldest living spectator.

Causidiena, whose eyes troubled her greatly, found thatwatching the triumphal procession caused her so much pain thatshe absented herself from the remaining shows. To all of these,races, beast-fights and combats of gladiators, she insisted thatthe other five Vestals should go together. The arrangement wasunusual, but no one could object, for no one would hint or eventhink that the sacred fire would be in any danger of going outwith such a Chief Vestal as Causidiena caring for it or that sheneeded any other Vestal to assist her. Likewise her fivecolleagues were genuinely pleased that not one of them would missany part of the shows.

As the number was odd, Causidiena decreed that they should beconveyed to the spectacles each in her own state coach, attendedby her maid of honor. The maids, of course, did not sit with theVestals, but had seats far back with the populace.

In their luxurious private box in the Colosseum the fiveVestals sat in the ample front row arm-chairs. They were seatednot according to seniority, but Numisia in the middle, Meffia andBrinnaria, as the youngest, on either side of her, Gargilia nextMeffia, and Manlia next Brinnaria.

In the Imperial loge near them Aurelius, now for more than ayear a widower, presided over the games, clad in his gorgeoussilk robes and attended by his fifteen-year-old son Antoninus,afterward known by his nickname of "Commodus." The four tiers ofthe Colosseum were packed with spectators, pontiffs, senators,nobles, ambassadors magistrates and other notables in the frontseats along the coping of the arena wall, lesser notables in thefirst tier, well-to-do persons in the second tier, traders andmanufacturers and such like in the third tier and the commonaltyin the fourth.

Besides the ninety thousand seated spectators* many thousandmore stood in the galleries, in the openings of the stairways, inany place where a foothold could be found and from which a viewcould be obtained. The outlook from the Vestals' box was acrossthe level sand to the gigantic curve of seats, all hidden undertheir occupants, so that the interior of the Amphitheatre was avast expanse of flower-crowned heads, eager faces and wavingfans.

*The author forgets himself. Earlier in the book he describesan audience of 100,000 as Brinnaria tells the emperor how shefelt down on the sand in her shift, with "two hundred thousandeyes" (implying one hundred thousand people) staring at her. Infact, the Colosseum could handle an audience of about 45 to 50thousand. — GB ed.

During that second day of gladiatorial fighting Manlia hadseveral times said to Brinnaria:

"Is there anything wrong? Are you ill? You do not seemyourself!" Each time Brinnaria had positively denied thatanything was wrong and had asserted that she was entirelyherself.

About the middle of the afternoon, the arena was filled withpairs of gladiators, all the couples fighting simultaneously.Each pair had with it a trainer, called a lanista, who watched,guided or checked the fighting.

The contending pairs were of a kind much liked by the Romans,because of the excitement they afforded, each pair consisting ofa light-built, light-armed, nimble expert pitted against aheavily built, heavily armed ruffian, the two supposed to beequally matched, the strength and weapons of the one fullybalanced by the skill and agility of the other.

Viewing fights of this kind Manlia felt rather than heard orsaw a change in Brinnaria next her, felt her stiffen and growsilent, rigid and tense. Manlia glanced at her, followed her gazeand became interested in the fight Brinnaria was watching. Beforethem, not immediately below them, but some distance out in thearena, fought a conspicuous pair of gladiators. One was a greathulking full-armored brute of a Goth, helmeted and corseleted,kilted in bronze-plated leather straps, booted, as it were, withample shin-guards of thick hide, bronze-plated like the straps ofhis flapping kilt. He carried a big oval shield and threatenedwith a long straight sword his adversary, a Roman in everyoutline, a slender young man, barefoot, bare-legged, kilted withthe scantiest form of gladiator's body-piece and apron, clad in agreen tunic and carrying only the small round shield and shortsabre of a Thracian. He wore a helmet like a skull cap with abroad nose-guard that amounted to a mask, above which were smallopenings for his eyes.

Conning this pair Manlia's attention was riveted by theslighter man. He was very light on his feet, jaunty of bearingand, as it were, ablaze with self-confidence.

Manlia, who was an expert judge of sword-fighting, perceivedat once that he was a master of his art. His method for themoment was to hold back, lead his opponent on and bide his time.His attitudes and movements bespoke the most perfect knowledge ofsword play in all its finest details. But what most held Manlia'sattention was his beauty of form and a strange something abouthim, a long-armed, long-legged appearance. She turned toBrinnaria.

"I should have sworn," she said, "that there was not in allthe world another man like Segontius Almo. But that Thracian is aduplicate of him, as like him as if he were his twinbrother."

"More like him than a twin brother," Brinnaria replied, hervoice muffled and choked. "I've been watching him ever since hecame in. I recognized him in the procession this morning. That isAlmo."

"Almo!" breathed Manlia, in a horrified whisper.

"Yes, Almo!" hissed Brinnaria.

"What shall we do?" quavered Manlia.

"Do?" snorted Brinnaria, "do nothing."

"But we can pray," Manlia panted. "We can pray. Surely you arepraying, Brinnaria?"

"I am praying," came the answer, in a viperish whisper. "I'mpraying he may be killed."

"Killed!" Manlia gasped.

"Yes, killed," repeated Brinnaria, viciously. "Killing is whathe deserves, mere killing is too good for him. If he wanted tocommit suicide why couldn't he do it decently at once andprivately without all this elaborate machinery of selling himselfas a slave, and lying about his intentions and disgracing himselfby becoming a prize-fighter and exposing himself to gettingkilled in public? Why couldn't he get killed at Treves or Lyonsor Aquileia? Why must he humiliate me by this exhibition ofhimself before me and all Rome? The quicker he is killed thebetter. I'm praying he'll be killed at once."

"Oh, Brinnaria!" groaned the horrified Manlia.

The Thracian was not killed in that first fight; he was neverin any danger of being killed. He played with his man as a catplays with a mouse; held him off without an effort, caught theattention of all the nearby spectators; won their interest by theperfection of his sword-play; and aroused their enthusiasm bythat nameles quality which marks off, from even the best drilledtalent, the man who is a born genius in his line.

He pinked his victim between corselet and helmet, so lightlythat only those spectators watching most closely saw the lunge,so effectually that the man died almost as he fell.

"You must have prayed for him to win; I did," spokeManlia.

"I didn't," Brinnaria snapped. "I prayed for him to be killed.I wish he had been. I'm not the only one who has recognized him.Aurelius has and he has told Antoninus; I watched him."

"How could you?" Manlia exclaimed. "How could you watchanything but Almo?"

"I could and I did," Brinnaria asseverated. "I'm looking allways at once, just now. The news is all over the Imperial logealready. They are looking at me as well as at him. I hope he'llbe killed this next bout." The lanista, in fact, at once matchedAlmo with another full-armed giant. Again Almo gave an exhibitionof perfect swordsmanship. The Romans were as quick to appreciateform in fighting as we moderns are to applaud our best bailplayers; they recognized pre-eminence in the swordman's art, aswe acclaim the skill of a crack baseball pitcher or cricketbowler.

Almo caught the eye of spectator after spectator, till most ofthe audience on that side of the arena were watching the fight inwhich he took part to the exclusion of everything else that wasgoing on. He displayed that perfect balance of all the mental andphysical faculties, that instantaneous co-ordination of eye,brain and muscle, which only an occasional phenomenon can attainto. He made no mistakes, bore himself like a dancer on a tight-rope, circled about his adversary, warded off all his thrusts,lunges and rushes, turned aside his long sword with his smallround shield without a trace of effort, and at his leisure founda joint in his body armor and pierced his heart with anostentatiously difficult lunge delivered with the acme ofapparent ease.

"There," sighed Manlia, "I prayed hard."

"So did I," Brinnaria murmured, "but I prayed the other way.He ought to have been killed already. Numisia has recognized himand he has been recognized by three or four nobles along thecoping. The rumor is spreading from each of them and runningthrough the audience." Manlia, in fact, looking about was awareof an unusual stir among the spectators, of notes being handedalong and read, of whisperings, callings, signs, pointings; ofmessengers worming their way from row to row and from tier totier.

Almo won his third bout. While it was in progress Manlia hadseen one of the Emperor's orderlies enter the arena from one ofthe small doors in the wall and confer with the chief lanista,who directed the fighting.

By the time Almo began a fourth bout half the audience waslooking at him or at Brinnaria. There were thousands present whohad survived the pestilence, who had been present fifteen yearsbefore when she had let herself down into the arena and hadrescued the retiarius. They remembered her spectacularinterference and were curious as to how she would now comportherself. Brinnaria, erect and calm, fanned herself placidly.

Almo won his fourth bout.

By this time the arrangements of the lanistas had been so farmodified that, instead of a great throng of fighters, there were,in the whole immense arena, not more than twenty pairs.

With scarcely a breathing space Almo was pitted against afifth adversary. By the time he had disposed of him the entireaudience, fully a hundred thousand souls, were as well aware ofwhat was going on as was Brinnaria herself. She was pale, butentirely collected. To Manlia she whispered venomously:

"Castor be thanked, he is certain to be killed, Aurelius hasattended to that." In fact the Roman sense of fair play wasoffended when the lanista gave Almo a mere moment of rest andthen set against him a sixth antagonist. Murmurs ran from tier totier, there were hoots and cat-calls.

Aurelius put up his hand and the people became still.

It was not often that the entire throng in the Colosseumfocussed its attention on anyone fighter. That happened now. Thedozen or more other pairs of fighters were ignored, all eyes wereon Almo and his opponent—all eyes that did not straytowards Brinnaria.

Almo was not showing any signs of weariness, but he wasplainly husbanding his strength. The sixth bout wastame—seldom had the Amphitheatre displayed so mild a setto. The heavy-armed man had seen Almo dispose of five likehimself, he was timid; Almo was not timid, but he was cautious.The result was a tedious exhibition of fencing for position, eachsword monotonously caught on the other shield. At the end Almoslashed his opponent's wrist, feinted, pretended to be unable toavoid a clumsy thrust, slipped inside the big man's guard anddrove his sabre deep under his arm-pit.

The Colosseum rang with cheers.

Without so much as a sponging down or a mouthful of wine Almowas faced by a seventh fresh swordsman in complete armor. Thistime there were no caterwaulings or groans. Even the uppergallery had recognized Almo or been told who he was, even thepopulace had remembered or had been informed of the relationbetween Almo and Brinnaria. Everybody had recalled or beenreminded of her rescue of the retiarius.

The audience collectively comprehended that Aurelius meantAlmo to be defeated and put at an adversary's mercy beforeBrinnaria, that he was testing her.

The habitual hubbub, hum, and buzz of undertones was checkedto a very unusual degree, the Amphitheatre became almoststill.

But when Almo fairly duplicated his first bout and neatly,almost without effort, cut his victim's throat, the audiencecheered him vociferously.

Louder, if possible did they acclaim his calm and adequatestrategy against his eighth antagonist.

A ninth and a tenth were promptly put beyond power to hurt himby wounds ingeniously disabling, but far from deadly.

The eleventh bout was more tedious than the sixth.

Almo divined some greater strength or skill in this adversaryand played him warily. When the audience was bored to the pointof being almost ready to call for something diverting Almoslaughtered his man with a terrible wound between his corseletand kilt.

The twelfth, thirteenth and fourteenth antagonists Almoplainly despised. He stood almost still, hardly altering theposition of his feet except to turn as the huge barbarianscircled ponderously about him. Each he brought down with hisfirst lunge.

As the fifteenth bout began the audience was manifestlyimpatient and restive. But they were not bored. That oneThracian, almost without rest, should successively dispose offourteen antagonists, in the fullest armor, was a notable feat.The perfect form of Almo's fighting was even more notable. Ateach victory the audience cheered him till they were hoarse. Theyseemed to cheer quite spontaneously and to need the relief fortheir feelings. But also they seemed to mean to give him as longa rest as was in their power. They were all for him.

But no man could go on fighting continually without fatigue.In his fifteenth bout Almo moved heavily.

The other man was unusually quick for a big man. He handledhis big sword deftly. After much sparring he was too quick forAlmo, and the point of his slender blade scratched Almo's splayvizor, nicked his chin, and tore a long shallow slash in the skinof his right breast.

Blood welling through it stained the green of Almo's tunic;blood dropping from his chin spotted the bright green.

The populace groaned.

Manlia prayed.

Brinnaria, under scrutiny of two hundred thousand eyes, saterect, fanned herself steadily, and gazed straight before her. Toall appearance she was as indifferent to Almo as if he did notexist.

After that Alma moved like a sleep-walker or a man in a dream,dully and dazedly.

The big man feinted and lunged cleverly. The point of hisweapon ripped Alma's thigh on the outside above the knee. No mancould stand up after such a wound. He went down, his shield underhim.

From all around the arena, from every tier, automatically,thousands of arms shot out, thumb flat. Instantly every armwhipped back and was hidden under its owner's robe. All realizedthat expression of sympathy was not their business. A hush fell.Everybody looked at the Emperor and at Brinnaria.

Brinnaria sat erect in her arm-chair, fanning herself evenly,staring straight across the arena. The same instinct, the samecuriosity which actuated the rest of the audience, restrained theVestals from giving the sign of mercy. All felt that the matterconcerned only Aurelius and Brinnaria, that for anyone else tointerfere would be flouting the Emperor.

Brinnaria, white as a corpse, dizzy and numb, kept up theunvarying motion of her fan. Otherwise she was perfectlystill.

The victor rolled his eyes along the rows of spectators. Hegot no inkling of their feelings.

He gazed at the Vestals. The audience saw him gaze that way.Brinnaria ignored him. Almo and all the world.

The victor looked toward the Emperor.

Aurelius held out his right hand, thumb out.

The lanista removed Almo's helmet. If anyone had doubted hisidentity the doubt was dispelled among all near enough to makeout his face.

The victor put one foot on Almo's chest. Almo stretched hisneck.

Brinnaria sat there, tense, pale, but as collected as if shehad no interest in what was going on.

The savage standing over Alma glanced a second time towardsthe Emperor.

Aurelius was holding his arm at full stretch over the coping,thumb flat against the extended fingers.

Brinnaria knew that she had won, that Aurelius had put her tothe test before all Rome, that she had stood the test, that allRome was witness. Her fingers clutched the handle of her fan. Shecould hardly feel it in her grasp.

The big man took his foot from Almo's chest.

The audience broke into howls of applause, gust after gust ofcheers, roaring like a storm wind in a forest.

Brinnaria saw the arena, saw the spectators, through a film ofmist, through a gray veil, through a fog of blackness. Sherealized that, for the first time in her life, she was on theverge of fainting. Mechanically she looked about her. Her glancefell on Meffia crumpled in her arm-chair.

That steadied her. If Meffia had fainted, she would not, shewould not.

She did not faint. She fanned herself steadily as she watchedthe lanistas help Almo to hobble from the arena. When he was goneher attention returned to Meffia. Gargilia and Numisia weretrying to rouse her.

She remained crumpled, she collapsed, she slid off her chairto the floor of the box. She lay in a horrid heap unmistakable inits limpness. The excitement had been too much for Meffia. Shewas stone dead.

BOOK III. — THE REBELLION OFDESPERATION

XV. — REHABILITATION

THE death of a Vestal, except from old age, wasalways regarded by the Roman populace as a sign of the gods'disfavor. The death of a young Vestal, sudden, unexpected andunexplained, could not but cause great uneasiness throughout allclasses of the population.

Moreover, gladiatorial exhibitions were part of the Romanpublic worship, which largely proceeded on the naive assumptionthat the gods liked just about what men liked and that, the bestway to please the gods and win their favor was to delight themwith such spectacles as men enjoyed, acrobatic exhibitions,dramas, beast-fights, fights of beasts with men or of men withmen, chariot-races and similar exciting displays, and so put thegods in a good humor. This underlying theory of divertingspectacles as a species of prayer and as the most effective kindof prayer was not so much definitely expressed by the Romans, astacitly and unconsciously assumed. It was, nevertheless, entirelyreal and all Romans felt every public show as an act of publicworship, as a hallowed function.

Most Roman rites were held to be entirely vitiated if a deathtook place among the worshippers during the course of theceremony. To all solemnities at which only a few persons werepresent this applied without qualification and positively.Naturally a death among the crowd about a temple was held of muchless import.

Still less could anyone regard a death amid the vast throng inthe Colosseum or the Circus Maximus. So that Meffia's sudden endwas not necessarily held a certain indication of the wrath of thegods. But, as the death of one of the most importantfunctionaries present at the spectacle, it caused much concern.The dismay of the people the pontiffs tried to alleviate by allthe means in their power, by consultation of the augurs,soothsayers and professional prophets, and by officialconsultation of the Sibylline Books. The general anxiety wassomewhat allayed by their placards and proclamations, announcingthat Meffia's death was wholly due to her personal weakness andwas not to be regarded as a portent, in particular that it in noway indicated the wrath of the gods or their rejection of thepetition for public safety embodied in the spectacles celebratingthe triumph of Aurelius.

The Temple and the Atrium of Vesta made up an institution inwhich death was entirely disregarded. As no seriously ill Vestalwas ever allowed to remain within the limits of the Atrium, but,as soon as alarming symptoms appeared, was removed from theAtrium and put in charge of relations or friends, so also thebody of a dead Vestal was always turned over to the care of herfamily or connections. Though the Vestals, alone among Romans,possessed the privilege of being buried inside the walls of Rome,though their funerals were magnificent public processions,participated in by all the functionaries of the state andlavishly provided at the public expense, yet the death itself washeld to be a concern of the family of the dead Vestal, not of hersurviving colleagues. The Vestals might mourn but the Atrium wasnever in mourning. Its routine went on as if nothing hadhappened; no sign of grief was displayed or even permitted;visitors were received as usual.

Among the first visitors to the Atrium on the morning afterAlmo's fight and Meffia's death was, naturally, Flexinna.

At the first word Brinnaria cut her short.

"I don't want to hear his name," she declared. "I'm done withhim forever. I don't love him any longer; I don't care for him,even; I hate him. It does not concern me whether he recovers ornot. I'd rather he wouldn't recover. The best thing for both ofus would be for him to die anyhow. I wish he were dead; I wishone of those heavy men had killed him."

"B-B-Brinnaria!" Flexinna remonstrated, "you t-t-talk like araving maniac! You look like a F-F-Fury!"

"I'm furious enough!" Brinnaria snarled, "and I've plenty ofgood cause for being angry. Was ever woman on earth put in aposition so invidious, so embarrassing? Everybody knew of myrescue of the retiarius, thousands had seen me rescue him.Everybody knew of my involvement with Almo before I was taken fora Vestal, of our love for each other, of my expressed intentionto marry him at the end of my service. Everybody recognizedAlmo.

"And there I was with the one man on earth in the jaws ofdeath before my eyes and I with the power to save him if I choseand a hundred thousand people watching me to see what I would do.And because I had once before rescued a man in that samesituation everybody expected me to do something unusual andspectacular to save Almo.

"If it had been any other man it would have been the mostnatural thing in the world for me to give the signal for mercyand nobody would have thought anything of it. But, because theman before me was the man I had expressed my intention ofmarrying at the end of my service, therefore, if I had tried tosave him, that would be taken as a confession of my beingactuated by the sort of interest which no Vestal has a right tofeel for any man.

"A delightful situation to be placed in!

"And he must needs go out of his way to put me in thatposition! When all he had to do was to live the normal life of aRoman gentleman and all things would in time come right for bothof us, he must needs strain the powers of human ingenuity, compelthe forces of time and space, of wind and wave to conspire toproduce that situation and make me suffer those unnecessaryagonies!

"Furious!

"Of course I'm furious.

"Never name him to me!"

When Lutorius Rusco, the new Pontifex of Vesta, called on hershe was less explosive, but still fuming.

She received him in the large room at the east end of theperistyle of the Atrium, a sort of parlor which had on eitherside of it three very small rooms, the six, used as privateoffices by the six Vestals. There each had her writing desk, andthe cabinets in which she kept her important papers, letters andsuch possessions.

After they had exchanged greetings Lutorius motioned towardsBrinnaria's little sanctum. Brinnaria bridled.

"I've nothing to say that we cannot say out here," sheadvertised, "and I do not want to hear anything that cannot besaid out here."

Lutorius was tactful and had his way. When they were alone, hesaid:

"You were magnificent! You behaved splendidly. You could nothave done better. We are all proud of you, from the Emperor downto the lowest slumgullion, every single Roman of us. You arecertainly the most popular woman alive and your popularity is nowof a sort to last as long as you live, complete and unqualified.You were popular before, but with considerable reservations. Thehierarchy liked you, but were not sure that they ought to approvea Vestal who had perpetrated such exploits as yours, particularlyyour trouncing poor old Faltonius. The nobility admired you, butshook their heads over your stock-farming. The populace wereenthusiastic about you, but, like the upper classes, were uneasybecause of your expressed intention to marry at the end of yourservice and to marry a specified man, who had been your boyishlover. All classes acclaimed you as a woman, but nearly everybodywas dubious about you as a Vestal.

"Now nobody has any hesitation about feeling that you are alla Vestal should be, a priestess whose prayers are certain to beheard and answered."

Brinnaria made a wry face.

"My prayers were not heard yesterday," she sighed. "Almo wasnot killed. I was praying hard to have him dead and have it allover with and done with forever."

Lutorius turned on her a slow, benignant, indulgent smile.

"Daughter," he said, "you must remember that you are not theonly Vestal. Four Vestals were praying that Almo be saved, eachpraying not only with her lips but with every fibre of her being.And your heart and soul were praying silently with them andagainst the fierce prayers of your lips."

"It is not so," she denied. "Every fibre of me was praying asmy lips prayed. My prayers were genuine."

"I am sure you thought so," Lutorius agreed. "It was naturalfor you to feel that way. You were very angry. But your angerwill wear off."

"My anger may," Brinnaria admitted, "but never my resentmentand my disgust."

"Only time can prove whether your forecast is correct," thePontiff soothed her, "but are you justified even in beingresentful? Ought you not rather to be thankful that chance orfate or the direct intervention of the gods working through Almogave you the precious opportunity to free yourself from theshadow of an imputation that lay upon you from your entrance intothe order? Rome vaguely suspected you of too warm an interest inAlmo. Much of Rome had seen and all Rome had heard of yourtheatrical rescue of a gladiator totally unknown to you. All Romeknew your impulsive nature. All Rome has now seen you perfectlycontrolled and outwardly calm with Almo on the verge of deathbefore your eyes. Everybody has watched you ignore him and showless interest in his fate than you once manifested towards acasual savage. Your outward observance of the conventions undersuch trying circ*mstances has abolished any qualms the peoplefelt because of your many past unconventionalities. This puts youin a very strong position toward any possible accusation ortrial. You know how earnestly you have talked to me of your dreadof such contingencies. Ought you not, after thinking it over, toforget your anger against Almo and to feel positively gratefulfor the opportunity so to exalt ourself?"

"Perhaps I ought," Brinnaria mused. "The value to me of theresults I had not thought of, but admit it now that you expoundit. But I am not grateful. I suffered too much. I am stillsmarting with indignation.

"And, apart from any remains of anger, I ache with thehumiliation of it all. Think of the infamy, of the degradationAlmo has brought on himself!"

Lutorius pursed his lips.

"There is a certain social stigma upon any man who has joineda prize-fighting gang," he conceded, "but the obloquy resultingfrom having been a gladiator has greatly attenuated amid theloose manners of our day. Nothing that becomes fashionableremains disgraceful. The social disgrace of it has greatlylessened as the thing has become more usual, and freemen who havebeen gladiators are rather acclaimed and sought after thancondemned and shunned. They win a sort of vogue, if successfulfighters.

"The treatment of such persons has greatly changed in recentyears. Even since I began to remember there has been an all butuniversal alteration in the general attitude towards suchcases—they have become too numerous for the old feelings tosurvive. Not only Roman citizens have entered gladiatorialschools, risen high in the profession, fought countless fights,served out their time as prize-fighters, and returned to theirfamilies, but noblemen have done so, even senators. Vesculariusis as much a senator as if he had not won seventy-eight bouts inthree years."

"I know it," Brinnaria admitted, "and I have thought over allthat. But I am old-fashioned in my feelings even if I have oftenbeen the reverse in my behavior. I am revolted at the thought ofAlmo as a professional cut-throat—I was insulted at thesight of him in the arena. I feel that by his abasem*nt ofhimself he has obliterated my love for him. It is as if he hadnever existed. I shall not marry him, even if we both outlive myobligatory term of service. I shall never marry anybody. I shalldie a Vestal."

"You feel that way now, of course," Lutorius agreed, "but youwill get over it, though you do not think so now."

"I do not believe I shall ever get over it," Brinnariadeclared. "So many things rankle in my thoughts, the small thingseven more than what is more important. I grind my teeth over themere legal consequences of his having been a gladiator. He willforfeit half the properties he inherited and he can never holdany office, civil or military."

"All that," said Lutorius, "the Emperor will attend to infull. And your thinking of such trifles shows that you even yetcare more for Almo than you admit to yourself.

"You must let me tell you about him. He is in the care of thebest physicians in Rome. They assure me that he will recover,that his face will show but the merest trace of a scar, nodisfigurement whatever, and that he will walk without theslightest limp. He is comfortable and convalescing nicely. I amgoing to bring you news of him daily, whether you think you wantit or not, and you are going to listen to me because I tell youto."

Brinnaria, for once in her life, was submissive andsilent.

Not many days later the Pontiff greeted her with a contentedsmile.

"Almo," he said, "is now practically recovered. He is wellenough to have enjoyed brief visits from several of his formercronies. He is in his house on the Carinae, and it is besieged byall the fashionables of Rome, not only his boyhood friends andacquaintances, but people who never spoke to him. Everybody isrushing to call on him.

"He is a free man again. At an intimation of the Emperor'swishes Elufrius became as supple as possible and all willingnessto oblige. He asked a huge price for Almo's release, and nowonder, for after the advertisem*nt you gave him, Almo could havecommanded fabulous fees for all future fights and the profitsaccruing to Elufrius must have been enormous. So Elufrius had tobe paid a large sum, but nothing compared to even one year'saccumulation of revenue from Almo's estates administered by hisagents. So Almo will never feel that. The papers have all beendrawn, signed and sealed. The cash has been paid. Almo is nolonger a member of a gladiatorial band.

"And, at a word from the Emperor, the Senate framed and passeda decree relieving Almo of all the legal disabilities inhering inhis past. He has been restored to his former rank in thenobility, has been confirmed in the possession of allinheritances which he might otherwise have forfeited, has beendeclared free from all stain and entirely fit to hold any officein the service of the Republic. The decree has been engrossed,sealed and signed by the Emperor. Almo is a nobleman as before.Are you pleased?"

"I am," Brinnaria confessed.

Lutorius nodded.

"Now, do not take umbrage," he said, "at what I am about toask. If you must say no, say no without being offended. May Itell the Emperor what you have said to me?"

"Certainly," Brinnaria authorized him. "Aurelius is so good afriend to me that sometimes I think he is the best friend I haveon earth."

After an interval of some days the Pontiff hinted that theEmperor desired to see her. Brinnaria's disposition to stand uponceremony and to insist on her full rights as a Vestal had wanedas she grew to maturity. In her dealing with Aurelius she hadlong laid it aside altogether and likewise with Lutorius, bothwere so unassuming, so manifestly actuated by the sincerestregard for her. Now she obediently sent in her application for anaudience with the Emperor.

It was accorded her about twenty days after Almo's fight.Aurelius came straight to the point.

"Daughter," he said, "I want you to tell me the entire truth.You can confide in me without reservation and you should do sowithout hesitation, since I ask it.

"What I wish you to tell me is this: Has your lover's behavioreffaced your regard for him, as you asserted to Lutorius, or wereyou self-deceived? Is everything at an end between you and willyou ignore his existence in future and remain a Vestal for lifeor have your feelings overcome your displeasure and are you againthinking of him and of your future as you did in the past?"

"Castor be good to me," Brinnaria confessed. "I did think hisfolly had alienated me from him forever, but the more I broodover it all the more I realize that no matter what he has done ordoes or will do I love him just as genuinely as if he deservedit, and as far as I can judge I shall love him to the last breathI draw. I am ashamed of my weakness, but I foresee that, when myservice is over, I shall be just as eager to marry him as if hehad been all he ought to have been."

"You please me," said Aurelius, "particularly in the way youput it.

"I am not in the habit of giving a second chance to any man.But Almo's case is so peculiar and the circ*mstances so unusualand my interest in him is so compelling that I am going to makean exception in respect to him. I shall give him anotheropportunity as an officer. I have reflected where to send him andI have concluded to relegate him to Britain. There, in the north,our frontier, pushed far beyond the former line, is ceaselesslyattacked by the Caledonian savages. My predecessor's greatearthwork needs larger garrisons. There Almo will find occupationand may rehabilitate himself. There he will be under the watch ofOpstorius, who is a stern and scrupulous governor. He sets outthis very day.

"Now is the time for me to speak to you of Calvaster.Calvaster, unfortunately, is as indispensable as ever, even moreso. My impulse was to banish him, but I had to forego the idea. Icontented myself with summoning him to my presence and tellinghim in so many words that the slightest suspicion of any furthermachinations by him against you or Almo would draw down on himthe unescapable consequences of my severest displeasure. By thatadmonition, and by his chagrin at the unexpected and unwelcomeoutcome of his plot, I think him sufficiently punished. Also Ithink him thoroughly cowed. He will make no further attempt totrouble you.

"It appears that when he was touring Spain, inspecting thecopies of the sacred books at all the chief temples of the fiveprovinces, he recognized Almo in the arena at Corduba. He at onceused all the influence in his power to arrange that Elufriusshould bring his gang of fighters to Rome and that their boutsshould be so managed that Almo would be saved to fight before youas he did. Almo himself found this out through Elufrius since hebecame again a free man and in control of his fortune, and ittook a great deal of money and the participation of a great manyexperts to uncover and prove the facts. Proved they have been tomy satisfaction and Calvaster's confusion.

"Almo had expected to serve his three years in Spain and wasas dismayed as possible when he found he was to be transferred toRome. But an articled gladiator has taken oath to submit toanything, specifying death, torture, burning, wounding, floggingand more besides, an articled gladiator cannot object to fightinganywhere. Almo had to acquiesce.

"And now, having heard that it was not wholly his fault thatyou were so cruelly tried before all of us, will you not agree tosay farewell to him a second time?"

In the flood-tide of her revulsion of feeling Brinnaria couldrefuse Aurelius nothing. The Emperor gave a signal and Almo wasushered in as he had been six years before.

Brinnaria's eager scrutiny could detect no limp in his gait,could barely descry the scar on his chin, even when she knew sowell where to look for it. She noted that he looked well,vigorous and very handsome in his gilded armor and scarlet cloak.She contrasted their magnificent surroundings with the roughfrontier to which he was going.

Almo tried to speak and choked.

"Caius," she said, "the Emperor has told me how it all cameabout. Don't ask me to forgive; I ask your pardon formisconceiving you; I have nothing to forgive in you. If you arewhat I believe you to be I shall never have to forgive anythingfrom you. Go, and with the help of the blessed gods, proveyourself all you ought to be. Farewell!"

And Almo, as he bowed, managed to say:

"Farewell!"

XVI. — VAGARY

TERENTIA FLAVOLA, who was taken as a Vestal tofill Meffia's place, was a really beautiful girl.

Her hair was golden hair in fact, not merely in name; her eyeswere an intense, bright blue; her complexion was exquisite, thedelicate texture and perfect whiteness of her skin emphasized bythe healthful coloring which came and went on her cheeks. Everyone of the Vestals fell in love with her at once, most of allBrinnaria.

Besides her good looks Terentia had a charming disposition, apretty unconsciousness of herself and a winning deferentialnesstowards her elders. The combination made her irresistible.

Also she was an interesting child, being amazingly precocious,not as Brinnaria had been, in growth and behavior, for she was acomplete child in all respects, but in being what moderns call aninfant prodigy. Infant prodigies in ancient times displayed theirunusual powers chiefly by recitations, mostly of poems, whichthey learned by rote and repeated with very little understandingof what they rehearsed. More than most of her kind Terentiacomprehended what she declaimed, but she knew by heart many poemsentirely beyond her childish grasp. At barely eight years of ageshe was able to reel off without hesitation or effort anyone ofan amazingly long list. With little prompting she could recitesome of the longest narrative poems in Latin literature and sheneeded prompting only to give her the cue words at the beginningof each book and of each important episode.

Besides her amazing powers as a reciter she was alreadyproficient in Greek, talked it easily and knew many poems in thatlanguage, which all educated Romans spoke and which was used morethan Latin at Court.

But her chief distinction came from her capability as amusician. In music she was not only an infant prodigy, but verymuch of a born genius. Her memory for any composition she heardonce was unfailingly accurate; her rendition of anything she knewwas more than perfect, since to perfection of rendition she addedsympathetic interpretation. She was already reputed the bestfemale performer on the lyre, the most popular instrument inancient times. The lyre had an effect something between that of aguitar and a harp, with some of the characteristics of the modernbanjo, zither and mandolin.

Since the lyre was looked upon as frivolous and unsuited tothe gravity of a Vestal, Brinnaria introduced Terentia to theorgan. This instrument the child had heard, but had not learnedto play, as organs were expensive in those days, whereasTerentia's family, although of the most ancient nobility, were invery straitened circ*mstances.

To the organ Terentia took with great enthusiasm, and inperforming on it she soon surpassed her teacher.

Brinnaria's playing on the water-organ was similar to thepiano music of a modern girl who has mostly taught herself andwho plays largely by ear; Terentia played it as a born genius inour days plays her piano, with impeccable exactitude, inimitableindividuality and compelling charm. Her organ recitals were soona chief feature of the social life in the Atrium, each throngedby the most fashionable ladies in Rome, who competed forinvitations. Her vogue in no way spoiled Terentia, who playedwith just as much zest for her co-inmates of the Atrium, or whenshe was entirely alone amusing herself at the organ. Teachingher, playing with her, listening to her, took up a good deal ofBrinnaria's time and came to be a great solace and comfort toher.

Even more was this abundance of good music a solace and acomfort to Causidiena, for, like Dossonia, her predecessor, likeso many former Chief Vestals, Causidiena was going blind fromsome disorder slow, painless and obscure, altogether baffling tothe best medical and surgical skill.*

*Clearly cataracts. As a matter of fact they WERE sometimestreated even this long ago, but the treatments did not meet withmuch success, and Causidiena probably would not have cared totake the risk.

For much of the ritual of Vesta and much of the participationof the Vestals in the public worship in general, the presence ofthe Chief Vestal was essential.

She was the Vestal, the others were only her assistants and intraining to succeed her. But as Causidiena became less and lessable to see, all matters which could be attended to by othersdevolved more and more upon Numisia. Among her colleagues Numisiahad greatest confidence in Brinnaria, so that Brinnaria's dutiesoccupied her insistently.

Besides her ritual duties and her music she kept up herinterest in horse-racing; in fact, she became more and moredevoted to this pastime, which Lutorius countenanced, but whichher detractors characterized as indelicate.

The success of her venture was notable. She became animportant local dealer in racers. Her colts, sold at well-advertised auctions, were sought after, were competed for,brought fancy prices, won many races, came to have a reputationthat spread beyond the city, over all Italy, even into theprovinces. Her career as a stock farmer was brilliant, meteoric,phenomenal.

Between her duties, her music and her horse-breedingBrinnaria's mind was pretty well occupied. She had no time tobrood and passed six contented and almost happy years.

She had reason for happiness in the fact that reports fromAlmo were uniformly good. To Flexinna he wrote at intervals andhis letters reached their destination without much irregularity.In those days communication with Britain was by no means so easyas with Africa. Gaul was a country well Romanized and verypopulous, busy and prosperous. All across it were good roads,excellent bridges and frequent post houses. But between Italy andGaul were the Alps, where the winter snows blocked the roads formonths at a time and where avalanches and floods suspendedtraffic at unpredictable intervals at all times of the year. Theonly sure road uniting Italy and Gaul was not through the Alpsbut past them along the sea-coast, and that was roundabout.

At the other end of Gaul the sea interposed a barrier whichthe Romans found annoying. In the state of seamanship in thoseages a head-wind was an insuperable obstacle. As long as the windblew the wrong way there was nothing to do but wait for the windto change. High winds made navigation altogether impossible.Between storms and head-winds, on more than half the days in theyear attempting the passage of the channel was not to be thoughtof. Moreover, bitter experience had taught the Romans that theweather-signs of the Mediterranean were not to be relied on whenone dealt with Atlantic weather conditions. In particular theyfound that a clear sky, a light breeze, warm air and a calm seain the morning not infrequently heralded a terrible storm beforedusk.

Consequently their attempts to cross from Gaul to Britain orfrom Britain to Gaul were restricted to occasions when, at andafter sunset, the sky was clear, the sea calm and the windfavorable. Only under those circ*mstances could they bereasonably sure of the conditions remaining unaltered until thetransit was accomplished. In practice about sixty-five nights ina year promised well for traffic. With sea transit so restricted,communication with Britain was infrequent, and news of Almoirregular.

Besides his letters to Flexinna he wrote occasionally toVocco. Vocco also had hopes of hearing from some of his comradesin arms. But as Valentia was a place of semi-exile forincompetent, illiterate, drunken and reckless officers, smallreliance could be placed on any such channel of news.

Therefore, with Brinnaria's knowledge and at her expense,Vocco had arranged to have an unremitting watch kept on Almo byskillful hirelings of the Imperial information department. Thesem*n sent messages whenever it was possible, and their reportswere consistently favorable.

The frontier of Caledonia offered no such opportunities fordistinction and promotion as the outskirts of the Sahara hadafforded. Military duty from the Forth to the Clyde wasmonotonous and wearisome. But, considering his environment, Almodid very well. He was liked by his companions, loved by hissubordinates and worshipped by his men. What there was to do hedid capably, and in his leisure, among comrades who guzzled wineand gambled like madmen, he was always sober and never abused thedice, which were an inevitable social feature of all Romanoutpost existence.

Aurelius spent the last four years of his life along theheadwaters of the Danube and Rhine, where the rising tide ofGermanic migrations beat incessantly at the outworks of theEmpire. His death at Vienna occurred when Brinnaria was twenty-nine years old and had been nineteen years a Vestal. He wassucceeded by his son Antoninus, whose obliging disposition andeasy-going manners made him exceedingly popular with his cronies,the young fops, dandies and sports of Roman society, and led tohis being known among them as "the good fellow," which nicknameof "Commodus" soon supplanted his given names and officialtitles, on the lips first of the Romans, then of the Italians,soon of all his subjects everywhere.

Commodus was not in Rome when his father died and it wastherefore not possible for Brinnaria to have an audience withhim. She dreaded that a change of governors in Britain might workunfavorably for Almo.

In consultation with Vocco she did what she could, through thecity Prefect in charge of Rome during the Emperor's absence, andthrough other officials, to make sure that any new governor ofBritain would be fully informed of the secret instructions whichAurelius had given Opstorius concerning Almo. She also did allthat was possible to have Commodus reminded of the matter. Thiswas difficult at a distance and a delicate undertaking at anytime and in any place, no Emperor ever relishing the assumptionthat he need be reminded of anything, while the necessity foremphasis and secrecy at one and the same time taxed the bestingenuity. With the great influence possessed by the Vestals,they hoped that they had succeeded.

But when Commodus had been Emperor a little over a year,Brinnaria, as she descended from her carriage at Vocco's door,felt a thrill of vague foreboding. On entering the house herpremonition of something wrong intensified. At first sightFlexinna's face confirmed her suspicions. However, she asked noquestions and worked off her feelings by a series of high dives,followed by fancy-stroke swimming under water. She came up fromher tenth plunge sufficiently exhausted to feel to some extentsoothed.

As they composed themselves on the dining-sofas Vocco andFlexinna exchanged glances. Brinnaria did not wait for either tospeak.

"I am afraid," she said, "that my appetite is not as reliableas it was ten years ago. I think we had best eat our dinner firstand discuss our bad news afterwards." Vocco and Flexinna lookeddistinctly relieved.

Brinnaria's appetite seemed excellent. She ate abundantly,and, after the dinner tray was removed and the dessert traybrought in, she relished a half a dozen of her favorite purplefigs. Savoring her glass of Vocco's exquisite Setian wine sheasked:

"What has gone wrong, Quintus?"

"Just precisely what we feared has happened," Vocco replied."In spite of all our efforts Hostidius appears to have knownnothing whatever about Almo's peculiar past or of the specialinstructions Aurelius gave Opstorius.

"Almo has practically repeated the vagary he perpetrated atHippo. He induced Hostidius to give him a full, honorabledischarge from the army and later wheedled the governor intoauthorizing him to have himself sold as a slave."

"What maggot can he have in his brain," Brinnaria burst in,"that he is so fascinated with the idea of being sold as a slave?What earthly basis can there be for the enticement it holds outto him? Being sold as a slave is universally regarded as theworst fate that can befall a man in life. What makes the prospectof life as a slave so alluring to him?"

"Flexinna and I have been debating that point," said Vocco,"but we cannot so much as think up a conjecture.

"As to the facts there can be no doubt. He was publicly soldin the marketplace of Eboracum."

"At least," Brinnaria breathed, "we have not lost track of himthis time."

"We have not," Vocco answered, "and I'll wager we shallnot."

"Is it prize-fighting again?" Brinnaria queried, "or is itreally charioteering this time?"

"Neither," said Vocco. "I must say it sounds like lunacy. Butall Almo's words and all the small details of his behavior showno signs of derangement. Up to the last report he slept well, atewell, looked well, talked sensibly, in respect to all minormatters acted like a rational being, and seemed to thrive. Butwhat he did in the large sense appears incredible.

"He had himself advertised for sale as an expert farmoverseer, was bought by a prosperous proprietor whose propertiesare situated in the southwestern part of Britain and there, nearIschalis, he has settled down to the management of a largeestate; large at least for that part of the world. He was givingexcellent satisfaction in his dealings with the slaves and by hisknowledge of budding, grafting, transplanting and of all themysteries of gardening, orchard lore, and of agriculture ingeneral."

"Yes," Brinnaria reflected, "he was keen on all that sort ofthing while he was at the villa near Falerii. Such knowledge,gained in boyhood, sinks in deep and is never forgotten. He isnot playing a part or pretending; he is really enjoying farmlife. But what kink in his head makes him fancy that he prefersto enjoy it as a slave rather than as a free man? That puzzlesme. Why be sold as a slave in order to bask in rural delightswhen he could buy the ten largest estates in Britain and neverfeel the outlay? When after his honorable discharge from the armyhe was at liberty to remain in Britain openly and to do as heliked? Can you see through it?"

Flexinna and Vocco agreed that they saw no glimmer oflight.

"At least," Brinnaria summed up, "he is in Britain and we canarrange to prevent his leaving the island. Certainly we can havehim watched, wherever he goes."

Vocco at once set about making the arrangements to ensure thatAlmo would not leave Britain. Within a half year he had to reportthat their efforts had been futile.

"We were too late," he said. "He did not remain at Ischalis ayear. Egnatius Probus, of Fregellae, had been in Britain morethan ten years as adviser to the tax-department. His health hadgiven way and he was taking the waters at Aquae Solis. He was anacquaintance of Almo's owner and went down to Ischalis after hiswater-cure had had its effect and he felt better. While visitingand idling at Ischalis he took a fancy to Almo, offered a highprice for him and bought him. He returned home by way ofMarseilles and from there by ship to Puteoli. He is now on hisestates near Fregellae and Almo is his head overseer, in chargeof the entire place. He has been there three months already."

Brinnaria fidgeted on her sofa, for, as on the previousoccasion, Vocco had imparted his news after dinner.

"Give me another goblet of that Setian you bought fromZaelis," she said. "I'm getting to be a confirmed wine-bibber. Atevery piece of bad news I need a bracer."

After she had emptied her glass, she burst out:

"If Almo is acting as villicus of an estate near Fregellae hemust be living with some slave-woman or other."

"He is not," Vocco informed her. "I made careful inquiries onjust that point and got my information from two differentsources. Almo told Egnatius that he was a woman-hater and couldnot endure a woman about him. Egnatius humored him and he isacting villicus without any villica. The wife of the assistantoverseer does whatever is necessary in the way of prayers andsacrifices and such duties of a villica. She and her husbandoccupy the overseer's house and Almo is living in the hut meantfor the assistant villicus."

"Did anybody ever hear the like!" exclaimed Brinnaria.

Vocco's agents verified this news and made it quite certainthat Almo was masquerading as a slave and as a villicus of a fineestate in lower Latium, near Fregellae, southeast of Rome on theLatin highroad, about half way between Capua and the capital.

Brinnaria found herself very much in a quandary, anddiscussions with Flexinna and Vocco, however lengthy and howeveroften repeated, left her just where she started. They could notdecide whether it was best to do nothing or to interfere, andwhether, if they were to interfere, what form their interventionshould take.

Should Vocco travel to Fregellae and force an interview withAlmo and try to appeal to his better self? If so, should he do sowithout apprizing Egnatius of the real name and origin of hisoverseer? Or should they enlighten Egnatius under a pledge ofsecrecy and afterwards decide whether or not to make an attemptto recall Almo to his natural way of life? Should they do any ofthese things without appealing to the Emperor or would it bebetter first to inform Commodus? They debated over and over everyline of conduct any one of them could suggest. After all completeinaction and entire secrecy seemed best.

This view was confirmed when Brinnaria consulted Celsianus,the most reputed physician of Rome. She had already confided inLutorius, who informed Celsianus, arranged for an interview andwas present at it.

The great man said: "Almo is not necessarily or even probablyderanged. On the face of what you tell me the most unfavorableconjecture I could form would be that he has resolved to commitsuicide. You will say that the idea is absurd, that suicide iseasy and that the means are always at hand, which is quitetrue.

"But there are cases, more numerous than you could fancy, ofpersons who make up their minds to bring about their end in someunimaginable manner, of which nobody but themselves would everhave thought. Then they lay complicated plans and by devious waysapproach their purpose. If they are thwarted or diverted, theynever end their lives in any other fashion than by the specialmethod they have devised.

"I am inclined to think that Almo's entrance into a gang ofsword-fighters was caused by some such intention, that he isalive because the circ*mstances he looked forward to neverconspired to give him just the kind of death he preferred. I aminclined to think that he is now working towards some unthinkableexit from life.

"But I am not much disposed to think his such a case at all.It may be a mere whim of self-torment, or it may be spontaneousyielding to a genuine liking for the life he is living. What onehuman being likes cannot be realized by other human beings, inmany cases.

"My advice is to let him entirely alone. If you interfere youmay precipitate his suicide, if he meditates suicide. By callingin the help of the Emperor or of his owner or both, you maydestroy the chances, the very good chances, of his returning tohis full senses. Men in his state of mind are often sane in allrespects, and, if unsettled, are deranged only in one particular.They are generally wholly reasonable on all points except as totheir fad of the moment. If that wears off they are entirelyrational. Let him alone. Watch him, but take no other steps."

This advice seemed simple enough, but carrying it out provedmore of a strain than Brinnaria could have foreseen. Theknowledge that Almo was in Italy, near Fregellae, actually inLatium and within seventy miles of Rome, that he was living inthe hut of an under-farm-bailiff, that he perhaps purposed someeccentric method of suicide proved racking to her nerves. Shebecame irritable and fidgety, her music failed to solace orcomfort her and sometimes almost bored her. She groped blindlyfor something to distract her mind.

First she had a brief but violent attack of solicitude for herpauper tenants. She found entertainment in visiting her slumproperties and in endeavoring to alleviate the condition of theirinmates. They were far from grateful. To have a Vestal, clad inthe awe-inspiring dignity of her white robes, with all her badgesof office, six braids, headdress, headband, tassels, ribbons,brooch and all descend from her dazzlingly upholstered carriageand invade the courtyard of their hive was thrilling but stillmore disconcerting to a swarm of slum spawn. They bragged of thehonor for the rest of their lives and strutted over it formonths, but they were unaffectedly relieved to see herdepart.

Her inquiries as to their means of livelihood wereexcruciatingly embarrassing. The Roman populace, all freemen withtheir wives and children, were legally entitled to free seats atthe spectacles and to cooked rations from the government cook-shops in their precinct. They throve on their free rations. Oftheir own efforts they had merely to clothe themselves and paythe rent of their quarters. Cash for rent and garments theyobtained in whatever way happened to be easiest, often by dubiousmeans. As to their resources they were reticent.

In particular, Brinnaria was unable to cajole any admission,by word or silence, from any dweller in one of her largestrookeries, and they were better off than any tenants she had,too. What was more, not one of their neighbors would impart anyinformation about them. .

Brinnaria's curiosity was aroused. She bethought herself ofTruttidius, the sieve-maker, and of his intimate knowledge of allthe dens and lairs in the city.

She asked him. He laughed.

"On the fa*gutal?" he made sure, "at the second corner beyondthe end of the Subura?"

He laughed again.

Then he tactfully explained that the tenants in thatparticular congeries of buildings were professional secret cut-throats, good enough husbands and fathers and amicable amongthemselves, but earning an honest livelihood by putting out ofthe way any persons displeasing to anybody able to pay for theirservices.

Brinnaria abruptly ceased slumming.

All the more she threw herself into her horse-breeding. Shevisited her stud-farms oftener; and, oddly enough, as the resultof her overwrought state of mind, the management of the farmsthemselves came to mean less to her than the means of reachingthem and returning. She paid close attention to the make of herroad-carriage, to the speed and pace of her roadsters. She boughtpicked teams of blooded mares, selecting them especially fortheir ability to keep up a fast walk without breaking pace. Sheboasted that she had six spans of mares, any one of which could,at a walk, outdistance any team in Rome owned by anybodyelse.

By specializing in fast-walking cattle she saved much time inpassing from the Atrium to the city gates and in returning.

Outside the city her mares displayed their capacity for otherpaces than the walk. She saw to it that her coachman kept them attheir utmost speed. The sight of her tearing along a highwaybecame familiar everywhere throughout the suburban countryside.She made a hobby of extremely fast driving and of buying fastmares.

Also she fell into another fad, at the time all the rage,invented since the accession of Commodus and made fashionable bythe young Emperor. Some popinjay had conceived a whim fortravelling by litter instead of in his carriage. It was far lessexpeditious and far more expensive. But the notion took. All atonce every fop in Roman society must needs take his countryoutings, go to his villa and come back from it, not in hiscarriage but in his litter. The plea was that a carriage joltedand that riding in a litter was less tiring. There was somethingin that, for carriage springs had not been invented in thosedays. But mostly it was just a craze among the very wealthy, asdistinguishing them from people who could afford but one set oflitter-bearers. An ordinary four-man litter could be used onlyfor going about the city—longer distances were impossible,and excursions into the country soon tired out eight bearers. Forroad travelling one must have sixteen bearers, two sets relievingeach other in turn. Brinnaria bought sixteen gigantic negroes andtested them on her inspections of her stock-farms. She triedGerman bearers, Goths and Cilicians. Her bearers became famousfor their speed and endurance. If she heard of any squad reputedbetter than hers, she bought it at any price, until, not countingthe teams of bearers belonging to the Palace, there was only onegang in Rome which she envied. She tried to purchase them butcould not. They belonged to her mother's friend Nemestronia.

Nemestronia always had been a wonder and was a marvel. She wasone of the wealthiest women in Rome and had never been ill amoment in her life. A very beautiful girl, she had kept her looksand a wonderful singing voice, still clear and sweet when she wasover sixty. She had been, since within a year after her firstmarriage, one of the social leaders of Rome. She had become thesocial leader of Rome, her influence almost equal to that of theEmpress. She had outlived three empresses and had reignedunquestioned in the social world for over fifty years, yet hadnot an enemy in Rome. Everybody loved Nemestronia. At the time ofthe litter craze she had already celebrated her eighty-firstbirthday, was plump, rosy, merry and spry, always ready for anyamusem*nt, and was living happily with her fifth husband.

She prided herself on her litter-bearers and with her unerringsocial instinct anticipated the caprice of her world and providedherself with three sets of carriers, sixteen to a set. One gang,of brawny Cappadocians, outclassed any but the Emperor's own.

These Brinnaria tried to buy, tried in vain. Nemestronia waswilling to exchange, if she could do so to her advantage. Butsell she would not. Amid her opulence no sum could tempt her.

Brinnaria fumed and drove her horses almost to death, urgedher litter-men almost to exhaustion. But, with all her haste,care outpaced her steeds or carriers. She gnawed her heartout.

Only at Vocco's house, amid Flexinna's bevy of youngsters, didshe find peace of mind.

Even there, at last, care followed her.

When Alma had been more than a year at Fregellae, Brinnaria,visiting Flexinna about the middle of May, scented more trouble.As they lay down to dinner she said:

"The occasion, I perceive, calls for an extra supply of wine.Let it be the old Falernian this time and have the mixturestrong." After they had eaten, none any too heartily, Vocco toldhis news.

Almo had left his master's estate without a permit, in plainwords had gone off like any runaway slave and had thereby exposedhimself to the penalties incurred by a fugitive. Egnatius hadtaken the usual steps to recapture him, but neither he nor theauthorities had any clue to Almo's whereabouts. As far as theywere concerned he had vanished.

He had not, however, eluded the vigilance of Brinnaria'sagents, of the men Vocco had employed to keep him in view. Theyunderstood that Egnatius was to be kept in ignorance of theiractivity, and gave no aid to the police of the neighborhood intheir efforts to retake him. They had reported only to Vocco.

Almo had money with him and at Arpinum had garbed himselfdecently for the road. He avoided the main highway and wanderedalong by-roads, zigzagging and circling about. He idled at inns,sometime for days in one place, often in small towns, oftener atroad-houses between.

He was then near Atina.

At intervals during June and July Vocco gave Brinnaria reportsabout Almo. He seemed to enjoy the society of the casualtravellers he met at small inns and of the local frequenters ofthem. He got on famously with everybody. Nowhere was he suspectedof being a runaway slave and naturally, for he had theunmistakable carriage and bearing of a born freeman. The hue andcry Egnatius had set loose after him was active wherever he went,but he sat under placards offering rewards for his capture and noone applied the description to him.

Early in June he was at Casinum and Interamna, before it endedat Fundi and Privernum. In July he passed through Setia, Ulubrae,Norba and Cora. Early in August he was idling at Velitrae,playing quoits in the inn-yard morning after morning.

He seemed to like Velitrae. He stayed there longer thananywhere else.

XVII. — RECKLESSNESS

ON the fifteenth of that same August, not longafter noon, Brinnaria was much surprised by a call fromFlexinna.

"The most amazing weather that ever was," Flexinna stated. "Inever heard of such, everybody says nobody ever heard of thelike. Even Nemestronia says she never saw or heard of anything tocompare to it. The densest imaginable fog, as white as milk. Youc-c-can't see across a street, you c-c-can hardly see the bearersin front of your litter."

"I noticed it in the courtyard," Brinnaria replied, "and it isthicker than usual. But we often have morning fogs and I haveseen several almost as dense as this."

"Nothing unusual in a fog d-d-down hereabouts and along theriver," Flexinna admitted. "B-B-But this fog is most unusual. Itis all over the whole city. I have lived on the Esquiline eversince I was b-b-born and I never saw a fog up there except p-p-perhaps a whiff just about sunrise and then only in wisps. Thisfog is high up on the Esquiline, as d-d-dense as along the river.I know the fog is all over the city b-b-because I sent two slavesto the P-P-Pincian and two to the Aventine, and they reportedthat it is just as b-b-bad everywhere as here and at home. And Imet Satronius Satro, just b-b-back from B-B-Baiae. He slept at B-B-Bovillae last night and he says the fog is just as b-b-bad allthe way from B-B-Bovillae. He says it is heavy over the whole c-c-country for miles. It amounts to a portent."

"Flexinna," said Brinnaria, "you never came here and at thistime of day, to talk about the weather."

"I d-d-didn't know how to b-b-begin," Flexinna admitted.

"What has Almo done now?" Brinnaria queried.

"He left Velitrae day before yesterday," said Flexinna, "andwent to Aricia. Yesterday he challenged the K-K-King of the G-G-Grove."

"Just as Celsianus conjectured," Brinnaria groaned. "Someunthinkable method of suicide. Is he dead?"

"No," Flexinna replied. "He's very much alive."

"Then he is the King of the Grove!" Brinnaria cried.

"They haven't fought yet," Flexinna informed her.

"Impossible!" Brinnaria exclaimed. "Or there is somethingwrong with your information. There is only one way to challengethe King of the Grove and that is to enter the Grove with aweapon. Almost as many men as women go to worship at the Templeof Diana in the Grove by the Lake; the King of the Grove nevernotices any unarmed man. But let a man with a weapon of any kind,spear, sword, or what not, even a club, step over the boundaryline of the Grove and that act of entrance there with a weaponconstitutes a challenge to the King of the Grove; at sight of anarmed man the King or the Grove attacks him. They fight then andthere till one is killed. The survivor is the King of theGrove.

"The challenger is supposed to pluck a twig from the sacredoak-tree and the act of picking the branch is supposed to be thechallenge. But, in practice, the King of the Grove watches thesacred oak so carefully, that nobody remembers any challenger whosucceeded in pulling a twig unless he won the fight.

"That is the only way to challenge the King of the Grove.Everybody knows that."

"That is just what I always thought," Flexinna confessed, "b-b-but, it seems we are b-b-both mistaken. There is another way tochallenge the K-K-King of the G-G-Grove; that is to go to theDictator of Aricia and enter formal challenge. In that c-c-case,the Dictator notifies the K-K-King of the G-G-Grove that he mustface the challenger at midnight next d-d-day. Meanwhile, thechallenger is entertained in the t-t-town-hall of Aricia. He isb-b-bathed, p-p-provided with fresh c-c-clothing, g-g-givenwhatever food he asks for and accommodated with a c-c-comfortableb-b-bed for the night after his challenge. Then, when he has hada g-g-good chance to sleep all night and has had at least four g-g-good meals, he is c-c-conducted by the aldermen to the G-G-Grove just b-b-before midnight. The aldermen t-t-take with themtwo ancient shields, p-p-precisely alike, and two ancientAmazonian b-b-battle-axes, also p-p-precisely alike, which are k-k-kept among the t-t-treasures in the strong room of the t-t-townhall at Aricia. The challenger plucks a t-t-twig from the sacredoak. Then he and the K-K-King of the G-G-Grove face each other inthe open space b-b-before it. A shield and a b-b-battle-axe arehanded to each. Then they wait for the word of the Dictator ofAricia. At the word they fight.

"That is the other way to challenge the K-K-King of the G-G-Grove."

Flexinna, as generally happened, had been shown at once up toBrinnaria's private apartment and had walked straight intoBrinnaria's bedroom. In that small room they sat facing eachother.

"Then they fight at midnight to-night," Brinnaria deduced.

"Yes," Flexinna corroborated.

"How did you come here?" her friend queried.

"In Nemestronia's litter," the visitor answered. "I b-b-borrowed it."

"With her Cappadocian bearers?" queried Brinnaria.

"Eighteen, of them," said Flexinna; "two extras."

"How on earth did you come to do that?" Brinnariawondered.

"I had a notion," Flexinna explained, "of trying to get to theG-G-Grove by the Lake b-b-before the fight. I thought p-p-perhapsAlmo would listen to me if I c-c-could see him in t-t-time."

"Did you tell Quintus?" Brinnaria demanded.

"Of c-c-course," said Flexinna. "He wanted to go alone, b-b-but I said Almo would not listen to him, so I p-p-persuaded himto let me t-t-try. I c-c-couldn't think of riding, of c-c-course,as I am. He wouldn't even hear of my d-d-driving, said I might aswell hang myself and be d-d-done with it as risk the jar of a t-t-travelling c-c-carriage. I said I'd use my litter. He said ourb-b-bearers c-c-could never g-g-get there in t-t-time for me tohope to d-d-do any g-g-good. I said I'd b-b-borrow Nemestronia'sfastest gang. He said he c-c-could g-g-go and c-c-come b-b-backon a horse quicker than any litter c-c-could reach the G-G-Grove.I repeated that Almo would certainly p-p-pay no attention to him,b-b-but might listen to me. So I b-b-borrowed Nemestronia'slitter. Shall I g-g-go? Shall I start at once?"

"No!" Brinnaria cut her off. "Let me think. Sixteen miles?They could do it in a little over five hours, if everything wentjust right. They'd take at least eight hours for the returnjourney. You wouldn't be back at the Appian gate before sunrise.It would be a hungry job."

"I thought of that," Flexinna informed her. "I'm alwaysravenous when I'm this way* and c-c-can never g-g-go from onemeal to the next. I had a k-k-kid-skin of wine p-p-put in thelitter and b-b-bread and cheese and fruit."

*In other words, she's pregnant. —PG ed.

"You did!" cried Brinnaria. "Where is Vocco?"

"On horseback b-b-beside the litter," said Flexinna, "waitingfor your d-d-decision."

"I've made it," Brinnaria proclaimed.

"Shall I g-g-go t-t-try?" enquired Flexinna.

"No!" Brinnaria fairly shouted, pulling off her headdress.

"What shall I d-d-do then?" Flexinna queried.

"Undress," Brinnaria ordered, "undress quick!" Flexinna staredat her, horrified.

"What for?" she quavered.

"Undress first and ask afterwards," Brinnaria commanded."Undress, woman, undress!" She was tearing off her clothes as shetalked.

"Can't you see, you fool!" she hissed. "The gods have made itall easy. The densest fog Rome ever saw and all over the country-side, a curtained litter with the fastest bearers alive right atmy door, my best friend on horseback beside it, drink and foodenough and to spare, me off duty till to-morrow noon and you hereto change clothes with me. I put on your clothes and go saveAlmo."

"You'll be outside Rome all night," Flexinna objected. "That'ssacrilege."

"Not a bit of it," Brinnaria retorted. "I know a regulationfrom a taboo. When the Gauls captured Rome the Flamen of Jupiterwent up into the Capitol with the garrison. He might not leaveRome, it would have been impious. But the other flamens nd theVestals left Rome, the Vestals were months at Caere. It is notimpiety for a Vestal to be outside the city walls over night, itis merely forbidden by the rules. I'm going."

"You might as well g-g-go b-b-bury yourself alive and b-b-bed-d-done with it," Flexinna protested. "You're certain to b-b-befound out. It's sure d-d-death for you."

"Hang the risk!" Brinnaria snarled. "I never realized how muchI loved Almo till you brought this news. I don't care whether Ilive or die or what death I die, if I can only save him.

"And the risk is too small to think of. All you have to do isto stay abed and keep still. Utta will never tell and she won'tlet anyone in. Numisia will not suspect anything: any Vestal hasthe right to twenty-four hours abed and no questions asked,Meffia spent one day out of ten in bed. Manlia takes a day's resta dozen times a year. Even I have done it several times, when Iwas sore all over with jolting too long at full gallop over ourso-called perfect roads. I was abed all day about a month ago,and certainly I rove hard enough and long enough yesterday and Iwas in the Temple half the night. I'll be back here long beforenoon to-morrow.

"Don't you see how easy it is? Flexinna has called onBrinnaria to-day, as usual, except the hour. And Flexinna oftencalls on Brinnaria at odd hours. Flexinna makes a short call andgoes out to her litter. Flexinna makes an excursion into thecountry in a litter with drawn curtains, her husband riding byit. Nobody can take any notice of that. Flexinna returns from herouting, calls at once on Brinnaria, pays a brief call, goes out,gets into her litter and goes home. Brinnaria, refreshed bytwenty-four hours abed, goes about her duties. The plan simplycan't fail." She had on all Flexinna's clothes by the end of herexplanation and was adjusting er two veils, one over her face,the other tied over the broad-brimmed travelling-hat, so that theedges of the brim, drawn down on either side, almost met underher chin and her face was lost in it.

Flexinna continued to protest feebly, but Brinnaria made hercompose herself in the bed.

"You can have anything you want to eat," she reminded her,"and as much as you want, any time."

Utta came at the first signal.

"Now listen," Brinnaria instructed her, "I am in that bed andI am going to stay there until the lady who has just called on mecomes back. That will be tomorrow morning. I am tired and needrest, the same as I did the day after the axle broke and I barkedmy knee in the gravel. I am not going out now; oh, no the ladygoing out is the lady who called on me. Do you understand?"

Utta understood.

Flexinna, quaking in the bed, prayed under her breath.

"For Castor's sake," was her farewell, "d-d-don't forget to s-s-stutter." In a fashionable costume of brilliant pink silk withpearly gray trimmings, feeling horribly conspicuous, butunaccosted and, as far as she could judge, unnoticed, Brinnariadescended the stairs, traversed the courtyard and passed theportal. Just outside, in the nook left by the angle of the wallenclosing the Temple, she found the litter set down clear of thethrong that surged and jostled ceaselessly up and down the HolyStreet. The bearers stood about it, one holding Vocco's horse;all, like the street-crowd, vague and unreal in the fog. Throughthe fog Vocco strode towards her and checked, amazed. She put herfingers to the folds of the veil over her lips.

"C-C-Careful," she warned him, laboriously stuttering. "I amFlexinna come back. Now for Aricia, as fast as the b-b-bearerscan hoof it."

Vocco, dazed, helped her into the litter, gave the order andmounted his horse.

Composed in her litter, Brinnaria's sensations were all of thestrangeness of the outlook; fog blurring the outlines of familiarbuildings; fog hiding the landmarks she looked for, fog wrappingher round till she could hardly see the front pair of carrierstramping ahead or even Vocco beside her on his horse; fogconcealing all the wide prospect of the levels south of Rome, fogso thick that they positively groped their way through the townsalong the road, fog so dense that she could not discern thegradations by which afternoon melted into evening and dusk intodarkness.

When they were clear of the city Vocco ranged his horsealongside the litter and expostulated with Brinnaria, talkingGreek that the bearers might not understand.

"The best thing you can do," he said, "is to give up thisharebrained adventure and merely swing round through the suburbsfor some hours and return to the Atrium by some other gate."

"Not I," she replied in her hardest tone.

"How do you expect to succeed in speaking to Almo?" heasked.

"I leave that to you," she said; "you must manage to see theDictator of Aricia and tell him that you have with you a lady ina litter who must speak to the challenger before the fight."

"I'll attempt the commission," said Vocco, "and I'll do myutmost, but I hold it impossible."

"In any case," spoke Brinnaria, "I keep on even if I have toexpose myself and be recognized in Aricia."

Vocco gave up the effort to influence her.

The roads joining the Appian Way were paved with similarblocks of the same sort of stone. In the fog they went wrongthree several times where side-roads branched off at a thinangle. In each case they failed to discover their mistake untilthey had gone on for some distance; in each case they had toretrace their steps for fear of getting wholly lost if they trieda cross-road; in each case they wasted much time.

Twice the leading bearers were all but trampled on by therecklessly driven horses of careless drivers. Both times the mix-up delayed them.

Just beyond Bovillae they had a third collision, in which onepole of the litter was snapped and two of the bearers injured. Itbarely missed resulting in a free-fight. All of Vocco's tact wasneeded to allay the feelings on both sides. By great good luck hesucceeded in getting a substitute litter-pole from a near-by innwithout too much publicity.

The delays caused by missing the road and by collisions hadcut down the margin of time they had hoped for at Aricia. Thislast misfortune delayed them so much that it seemed unlikely thatthey could reach the Grove until midnight.

In fact, before they reached Aricia, the road was alive withparties of celebrants, men and women, but no children, every mancarrying a lighted torch, nearly every man accompanied by a slavewith an armful or a back-load of spare torches, all moving in thesame direction with them.

With torch-bearing crowds the streets of Aricia were jammed.From gate to gate of the town they crawled, wading slowly throughthe press of revellers. Along the road to the Grove they were asa chip floated along on a tide of torchbearers, for the partiesof worshippers converging to their great local yearly festivalfrom Tusculum, Tibur, Cora, Pometia, Lanuvium and Ardea formed acontinuous procession, their pulsing torch-flames looking strangeand blurred through the fog.

When they reached the top of the ridge enclosing the Lake,Vocco dismounted and trusted his roan to one of Nemestronia'sextra bearers, as horses were not allowed within the Grove or itsprecincts.

Not much before midnight the bearers swung sharply at thebrink of the cliff and plunged down the steep narrow road cutalong its face. Brinnaria felt the dampness of the lake air onher cheek.

By the Lake the fog was, if possible, more impenetrable thanelsewhere. The Grove, the lodging for the cripples and invalidswho thronged the place to be cured, the vast halls about thetemple, the temple itself, all were doubly whelmed in thedarkness and the mist.

Brinnaria made out only the six channelled vermilion columnsof the temple portico and the black boughs of the sacred oak.These, to right and left of the temple area, showed vaguely inthe light of thousands of torches in the hands of the throngpacked about it.

Respect for a closed litter with sixteen bearers accompaniedby a gentleman in a Senator's robes won them a way through thecrowd, the torches surging in waves of flame as they ploughedthrough.

When they reached the margin of the open space, Brinnaria,choking with the realization that she had arrived too late,peered between the drawn curtains of her litter and saw thepavement of the temple-area bright under the splendor of thetorch-rays; saw a dozen young women, dressed in gowns of astartling deep orange, standing in a row clear of the torch-bearing crowd; saw the five aldermen of Aricia in their officialrobes, grouped about the square marble altar; saw before thealtar a circular space of clipped turf midway of the areapavement, saw standing on it to the right of the altar the Kingof the Grove, clad in his barbaric smock of dingy undyed blackwool, his three-stranded necklace of raw turquoises broad on hisbosom, the fox-tails of his fox-skin cap trailing by his ears;saw facing him Almo, bare-kneed, his hunting-boots of softleather like chamois-skin coming half way up to his calves, hisleek-green tunic covering him only to mid-thigh, his head bare,his right hand waving an oak bough.

After she recognized Almo and glimpsed the bough in his handshe hardly looked at him. She stared, fascinated, at the whitemarble altar on which, as an offering to Diana of the Underworld,the victor of the fight would lay the corpse of his victim.

The Dictator of Aricia, chief of the Aldermen, raised hishand. From somewhere in the darkness behind the dozen simperingwenches appeared two slaves, each carrying a small round shieldand a double-headed battle-axe. The shields had painted on each ahorse, the battle-axes were of the pattern always seen inpictures of the legendary Amazons. The blade of each axe-head wasshaped like a crescent moon. From the inner side projected aflat, thick shank, by which the blade was fastened to the helve.The curve of each blade made almost a half circle, the tips ofthe crescents almost touched the haft between them, so that theirouter cutting-edges made a nearly complete circle of razor-sharpsteel, from which protruded the keen spear-head tipping theshaft.

Two of the aldermen received these accoutrements from theslaves. Brinnaria noticed that one of the other aldermen held thebroad, gold-mounted, jeweled scabbard containing the greatscimitar with which the King of the Grove kept girt, waking orsleeping. She even noted how its belt trailed from his hands andthe shine of its gloss-leather in the torch-rays.

The two aldermen handed a shield and an axe to eachcontestant. One took from Almo the oak-bough and passed it to theDictator.

The two champions fitted the shields on their arms, balancedthem, and hefted their battle-axes. Each assumed the posture thatsuited him best, his feet well under him. So they stood facingeach other, waiting for the signal.

The King of the Grove was a stocky, solidly-built ruffian ofmedium height and weight. Almo seemed much taller and very muchslenderer and lighter. His delicate features and thin nosecontrasted strangely to the high cheek-bones, small, close-seteyes, and wide, flat nostrils of his antagonist.

The Dictator waved the oak-bough and shouted.

The two champions warily approached each other.

Each kept his left foot forward; each crouched, as it were,inside the shield tight against his shoulder; each held his axealoft.

Each struck, each dodged, Almo awkwardly, his axe trailingbehind him after it missed.

The stocky man thought he saw his chance and whirled hisweapon, bringing it down in a terrible sweep. Craftily Almocaught it against his shield, just below the upper rim, horriblyit grated against the bronze plating of the shield, with the fullweight of the mighty swing it buried itself in the sod.

The force of his blow carried the assailant with it so that healmost fell face forward on the sward.

Before he could recover himself Almo's ready axe swung.

Brinnaria saw it flash in the air. Then she saw the fox-skincap in two halves, a horrid red void between.

"Oh Vocco," she called, "t-t-take me home, t-t-take me home."At that volcanic instant, at the bitterest moment of her life,what kept back her tears was her tendency to laugh at the fact,that, ill the midst of her agony, she did not forget tostutter.

XVIII. — FURY

THE darkness of the night, the impenetrabilityof the fog and the weariness of the bearers all contributed toimpede their return journey. While on her way and buoyed up byher wild purpose, Brinnaria had been able to rest herself bydozing along the roadway and had remembered to keep up herstrength with food and wine. After they had turned back she couldnot have swallowed anything, if she had thought to try, and thenearest she came to sleep was an uneasy drowse which seemed along nightmare. The Cappadocians, famous for their strength,endurance and indifference to wakefulness, exertion, hunger orthirst, were also astute foragers. On their way from Rome thereliefs had invaded every inn they passed and, lavishly providedwith small coins by Vocco, had provisioned themselves abundantly.These supplies they handed over to their fellows when they tookup the litter. All the way back the spare carriers, ploddingbehind, munched their provender and conversed in undertones. Thebearers, necessarily flagging, trudged leadenly.

Through it all Brinnaria was haunted by her memory of twopictures.

One was of the row of saffron-clad hussies watching thefight.

The King of the Grove was the only legal polygamist in Italy.Concomitant with the barbarous and savage conditions determininghis tenure of the office as High Priest in the Grove by the Lakeof Diana of the Underworld, congruent with his outlandish attireand ornaments, he had the right to have twelve wives at once.Seldom had a King of the Grove failed to avail himself of theprivilege; and, indeed, to have twelve wives was regarded asincumbent upon him, as necessary to his proper sanctity and asindispensable to maintain the curative potencies of the locality,which restored to health each year an army of sufferers.

He had the power to repudiate any wife at any time, to dismissher and expel her from the Grove. Any former wife of his, whenexpelled or after leaving the Grove of her own accord, became afree woman with all the privileges of a liberated slave. Most ofhis ex-wives, however, elected to remain in the Grove and formeda sort of corps of official nurses for the sick who flocked thereto be cured. In practice the King of the Grove usually repudiatedany wife who lost her youthful charms.

His wives were commonly, like himself, truant slaves.

Fugitive male slaves were an ever-present feature of countrylife in all parts of the ancient world, as tramps are in moderntimes. A female runaway, however, was a distinct rarity. But thesanctuary afforded them by the Grove encouraged them about Ariciaand many fled to it. If young and comely they became wives of itsKing. Also slave-girls were constantly being presented to him bygrateful convalescents, who had come to the Grove as invalids orcripples and had left it hale and sound. Thus the twelve wives ofthe King were always as vital and buxom a convocation of wenchesas could be found anywhere.

The spectacle they had made haunted Brinnaria.

They had been so utterly callous, so completely indifferent,so merely curious to see which contestant was to be their futuremaster, so vacant-mindedly giggling and nudging each other. Theimpression they had made on her nauseated her, while the memoryof their red cheeks, full contours, youthfulness and undeniableanimal charm enraged her.

The other picture which had branded itself on her memory wasthe sight of Almo, straightening up after stooping over hisbutchered predecessor, clasping the triple turquoise necklaceabout his throat.

Almo was King of the Grove.

At that thought and at the recollection of the dozen jadeswriggling and smirking, her blood boiled.

By the margin of the cliff Vocco had had much ado finding hishorse. On the road back to Aricia they passed through manyparties of belated worshippers. As the torch festival kept upuntil dawn that town was open all night. Unquestioned they passedin at a wide-open gate, through torch-lit, but almost desertedstreets, out at another wide-set gate.

In the Roman world travelling by night was almost unexistent.Only imperial couriers and civilians driven by some dire stresskept on their way after sunset. In general travellers halted forthe night at some convenient inn or town, or camped by the roadif darkness overtook them far from any hostelry. But on the nightof the yearly festival of Diana, many parties were abroad.Between Aricia and Bovillae they met several convoys, and abouthalf-way they were overtaken and passed by a rapidly drivencarriage, and somewhat tater by a troop of horsem*n, trottingrestrainedly, one of them on a white horse which showed ratherdistinctly, even in the fog and darkness.

Near Bovillae they overtook the same band of horsem*n, haltedabout the wreck of two travelling carriages which had crashedtogether in the fog. Two of the horses lay dead on the stones,killed to put them out of their misery. From curb to curb thepavement was cluttered with pieces of wreckage and the carcassesof the horses. The roadway was completely blocked and thebearers, at first, could find no way around the obstacle.

Some women were wailing over a little boy whose leg had beencrushed and who was uttering frightful shrieks. The childscreamed so terribly that Brinnaria impulsively leaned half-wayout of her litter, carried away by her sympathies. Close besideher she saw the white horse and astride of it, vague in the mist,but unmistakable in his lop-sided, bony leanness, outlinedagainst the glare of the torches behind him, she recognizedCalvaster.

Instantly she shrank behind her litter curtains.

Almost at once a relief bearer who had gone to scout reporteda free path through the fields by the road.

They continued on their way.

Bovillae, not being one of the towns participating in theFestival of Diana, was closed for the night, its gates shut fast,its walls dark. Going round it was a trying detour over roughcross-roads.

After they were again on the Appian Road they were for asecond time overtaken by the same band of horsem*n. When theirhoof-beats had grown faint in the distance ahead, Vocco rangedhis horse alongside the litter and asked:

"Did you notice the man on the white horse?"

"I recognized him," said Brinnaria briefly.

The fog held all the way to the Appian Gate, which theyreached as some watery sun-rays struggled through the mist, helduntil they reached the Atrium.

Out of her litter tumbled Brinnaria in Flexinna's rumpledfinery, feeling unescapably recognizable, even inside her doubleveil and under her broad-brimmed, tied-down travelling hat.

But the heavy-built, sinewy slave-woman who guarded the portalof the Atrium passed her in without remark. She met no one on herway up to her suite, where she found Utta squatted outside herbedroom door.

Flexinna was incredulously delighted, pathetically overjoyedto see her.

"You have a wonderful larder here," she said. "Every singlething I asked for was b-b-brought me at once. I d-d-didn't haveany appetite, b-b-but I had to have food. And I g-g-got it."

Promptly she put on her own clothing and was gone.

In a trice Brinnaria was flat on her back in bed with Uttamassaging her vigorously and methodically. After onecomprehensive rubbing she went off for hot milk, hot wine, honey,barley-meal and spices. The posset she brewed she compelled hermistress to swallow. Then she gently massaged her until she wasasleep. Thanks to these attentions Brinnaria, after some fourhours abed, was able to reappear in the Temple looking not muchunlike a Vestal who had enjoyed twenty-four hours of unbrokenrepose.

Numisia appeared to suspect nothing. Certainly sheremonstrated with her and begged her not to exhaust herself so byhard riding.

After that first sleep, induced by fatigue and by Utta'sministrations, Brinnaria slept little. She tossed and turned.Before her eyes was continually the recollection of that row ofsaffron-clad minxes, of their exuberant health, heartiness androllicking vivacity.

The memory of them suffocated her. In the Atrium she had toconceal her inward convulsions of rage, had to appear calm,placid and collected.

The effort made her the more explosive when she was atFlexinna's and could speak out. She stormed.

Flexinna let her talk herself hoarse. But no amount of talkingrelieved her. Whatever she said, no matter how often she had saidit, she wound up the same way:

"Here I am, packed in ice, so to speak, for thirty years andthere he is, King of the Grove, with twelve wives, twelve wives,twelve wives!"

Jealousy, in its most furious form, is not a mild malady, evenin our days, and in women of northern ancestry and cold blood.Brinnaria was a hot-blooded Latin and the pulses of her heartwere earthquakes of fire. The Romans were a ferocious andsanguinary stock. Even among the most delicately nurtured womenlove turned quickly into hate and solicitude might in a brieftime give place to the thirst for vengeance.

Brinnaria struggled with herself for some days.

Then she bade her coachman drive her to the fa*gutal. Herappearance among her tenants caused general trepidation, asusual.

When the clustering drabs and brats discovered that she feltno present interest in women and children, but that she demandedspeech with the men, the elder men, their dismay deepened intoacute consternation.

Since she would take no denial some dotards and striplingswere routed out and the patriarch of the clan was thrust forward.He looked senile from his slippered feet to the shine on hisbald-pate, he was blear-eyed and hard of hearing, but heunderstood plain Latin when he heard it, he knew of old the signshe read in the flash of her eyes, the set of her jaw and everyfeature as she stood or moved. Also no dog ever had a keenerscent for game than he for business.

He shouted in the slang of his caste.

The women and children vanished.

Promptly a chair was brought, carefully dusted and she wasinvited to seat herself. Before her cringed, in attitudes ofobsequious deference, a group of as hulking, truculent, ruthlessvillains as could have been found anywhere on earth. Just out ofearshot of a low-voiced conversation, stood younger men,sentinels, to keep all others at a distance.

The patriarch's son, recognized chief of the brotherhood, anappallingly inhuman brute, acted as spokesman.

At the first word their wary expression altered to one ofbrotherly comprehension. There was a man to be killed. Pride intheir vocation shone all over them. Yes, they knew of the King ofthe Grove, who did not? and they especially, since thepatriarch's grandfather, great-grandfather to the spokesman, hadat an advanced age ended his life in the Grove, after years asits priest, having become King late in life, the last of a longseries of challengers whom the Emperor Caligula had subornedagainst an insufferable and all but invincible hierophant.

Could they find a swashbuckler willing to assail the presentincumbent?

Of a surety and what was more able to vanquish anybody.

Could it be arranged secretly?

No human being would ever suspect that she knew anything aboutthe matter; what was more, the most inquisitive would neverdivine that they themselves had any hand in the change of priestsat Aricia.

How could this be accomplished?

In countless ways. One might find a discontented slave, mightyand skilled with weapons, and reveal to him a means of betteringhis condition, or one might bribe the owner of a capable slave towink at his running away, or if no fit slave could be found, asuitable freeman might be induced to become a slave under amaster also in the plot. It was easy, merely a matter ofmoney.

How much money would be needed?

That would depend. If they could cajole a slave the job wouldcall only for cash for the instigators!" expenses, for journey-money and for a good sabre for the challenger, and at the last abonus for all concerned. If a slave-owner had to be bribed, morecash and more money for bonuses would be required. If a freemanhad to be employed the enterprise would be still more expensive.It was all a matter of money, above all, of cash.

Cash was forthcoming.

Brinnaria returned to the Atrium by a circuitous drive out theTiber Gate, round through the suburbs and in at the River Gate.She needed fresh air. All the way, all the afternoon, all thewakeful night, she was in an eery state of icy, numb exaltation.It was all over—Almo was a dead man, she had avengedherself, she had vindicated the proprieties, her wrath wasrighteous, her vengeance laudable. This tense condition of hernerves lasted for some days.

According to stipulation the messenger from the tenements onthe fa*gutal was a decently clad woman of inconspicuouslyrespectable appearance. She came after an interval of about tendays. She was apologetic. Their first champion had perished.

Twice more she brought the same message. Then Brinnariaventured a second visit to the unsavory locality. She wassarcastic. The chief was abashed.

This, he said, was evidently a task unexpectedly difficult.The more certain was it that they would measure up to therequirements. They felt that their time-honored reputation was atstake.

There followed for Brinnaria an exciting, a wearing autumn andwinter. For some months messages came to her at about nine-dayintervals, all of the same tenure. Towards mid-winter, on a mildfair day, she risked a third expostulation with her hirelings. Onan apologetic and humiliated rabble she poured her scorn.

Thereafter the messages came thicker, about one every fourdays, but monotonously unwelcome. Brinnaria set her teeth andsent all the money asked for.

Meanwhile her wrath, her jealousy, her thirst for vengeancesteadily waned and their place was largely taken by admirationfor Almo's incredible skill and by a sort of pride in him.

But again and again the vision of the twelve baggages returnedto her and she steeled her heart. One warm June morning she lostpatience and burst in on her gang of cut-throats.

Inundated by a cascade of vitriolic denunciations and stingingsneers they hung their heads, too limp to utter a protest. Thepatriarch was weeping openly.

Turned from anger to curiosity she found the rookery was inmourning. Their chief, the apple of their eye, aghast at thefailures of his minions, had himself undertaken to redeem theirhonor. For him they grieved. They owned themselves beaten. Theyhad scoured Italy, had sent against Almo every promising bully inthe fifteen districts. Their best young men had gone, lastlytheir adored leader. They could do no more; Almo wasinvincible.

Brinnaria, reflecting that, after all, she was to blame fortheir dejection and woe, that, after all, they had done theirbest, distributed what cash she had with her and promised them alavish apportionment of gold.

As she went she realized, as they realized, that the placewould never see her again.

Next morning she sent for Guntello. That faithful Goth, stilhuge, mighty and terrific, came, mild as a pet bulldog.

"Go kill him!" she commanded.

"Certainly, Little Mistress," he acquiesced, "but whom am I tokill?"

She explained.

Guntello, always parsimonious, asked a moderate sum for thepurchase of a sabre and for road-money. She gave him ten times asmuch.

When he was gone, she felt, as at first, a painful numbness ofexaltation. Almo was now certainly a dead man.

This mood suddenly inverted itself into an uncontrollablepassion f solicitude. Off she posted to Flexinna and confessedeverything to Vocco. In a frenzy she demanded they again borrowNemestronia's litter and that Vocco again accompany her toAricia. To their expostulations she retorted that go she would,if not escorted by Vocco, then alone, if not disguised and in aborrowed litter, then in her own and openly, or openly in hercarriage or afoot if need be; but go she would!

Flexinna succeeded in getting her to listen long enough tourge that there was no need for her to go personally, as Guntellowould obey Vocco at sight of her signet ring, moreover thatGuntello now had a long start and that only a swift horsemanmight hope to intervene in time. To these representations sheyielded.

Vocco returned amazed and manifestly relieved. He had arrivedtoo late. Guntello was dead.

That night Brinnaria wept long and bitterly.

"The poor, brave, harmless, faithful fellow," she moaned. "Outof the malignity of my heart, in my pride and callousness, I senthim to an undeserved death! Oh, I am a wicked woman!" Strangelyenough Guntello's death seemed to divert her mind entirely fromthe idea of avenging herself on Almo. From hating him, she cameto realize that she had really loved him all the while, that sheloved him unalterably. From thinking that she desired his deathshe came to dread acutely that, exhausted in body by more than ahundred fights in ten months and worn by the strain of ceaselessanxiety and vigilance, Almo might succumb to even a chance-brought adversary.

In this new mood she confided in Lutorius.

The good man was horrified.

"And I never suspected anything wrong!" he exclaimed. "Atleast you have been outwardly collected. Nobody has suspectedanything. But this is terrible. A Vestal should menace no man'slife, should not desire any man's death. Far from it, her heartshould be clean of hate, malice or envy."

"Never mind what I have been," said Brinnaria.

"No disasters have befallen Rome. There is no sign of anywrathfulness of the gods, or of their displeasure, and I am nolonger as I was. That is all over, I am chastened. I desire harmto no one. Quite the reverse. What fills my mind now is thethought that, sooner or later, Alma must perish at the hand ofsome challenger. I long to save him. I would move earth and seato save him. Must a King of the Grove live and die King of theGrove? Is there no way to rescue him?"

"Consult the Emperor," said Lutorius. "He is Chief Pontiff ofRome."

XIX. — COMFORT

COMMODUS received Brinnaria in the same palatialroom in which she had so often conferred with his father. Themajestic impression of the magnificent hall was, however, marredby the evidence of the young Emperor's chief interests. On one ofthe great chests lay a pair of boxing gloves, on another a quiverof arrows and two unstrung bows, on a third a bridle; a fourthwas open and from it protruded a sheaf of those wooden swordswhich the Romans used for fencing-practice as we use foils.Commodus could never wholly free himself from his absorbingpassion for athletic sports.

He himself was a sort of artistic caricature of his father,being very like him in height, build, features and complexion,with similarly abundant hair and beard falling over his shouldersand bosom in long ringlets. But in place of the gravity, wisdom,intelligence and sympathy which had ennobled the countenance ofAurelius, his face wore an expression of boyish frivolity, sillyvanity, vapid stupidity and impatient selfishness.

Brinnaria had seen him countless times and often near at hand,not only close to her when both occupied their official seats inthe Amphitheatre or the Circus, at horse-races or other shows,but almost at arm's length at various religious functions,processions, sacrifices and other acts of public worship.Necessarily they had often exchanged formal greetings, but neveryet any other words.

He greeted her effusively, with a comical mixture ofhobbledehoy clumsiness and imperial dignity.

"I'm glad you demanded an audience," he said, as she sat down;"we should have had a good talk long ago. You lambasted oldBambilio. That is one for you. A juicier story I never heard. Youare made of pepper. And you saved the retiarius, the year after Iwas born. I've often gloated over the story and wished I had beenthere to see. I was there when you had your embarrassingexperience and came through it so gallantly. I was proud of you,like everybody else. I remember it well. And Father gave mespecial instructions about you, so emphatically that evenscatter-brained as I am I have not forgotten them. I've beenmeaning to have a talk with you ever since I took up this Emperorjob. But you know how it is. Every day there are ready andwaiting for me to do more things I really want to do than anyoneman could get through in anyone day, and three-quarters of them Ihave to forego doing because of the pressure of my officialduties. I can never seem to get time for half the sword-exerciseand archery drill and driving practice I need, let alone forchats with heroines.

"I trust you'll accept my apologies.

"There! That is all the talking I mean to do. I'm going tolisten, now. Tell me what you want and I'll see your desireaccomplished. I'll do anything for you, not only for your heroismand on account of Father's directions, but because of your horse-breeding. They say you're as good a judge of a horse as any manin Italy and I believe there are not a dozen to equal you.

I've driven several pairs of your crack colts and they areparagon racers, docile as lambs and mettlesome as game-co*cks.

"There! I've gone on talking! But I am really going to stopnow and listen. State your wishes."

"I'll have to make a long story of it," said Brinnaria,hesitatingly.

"And one sixty times better worth listening to than ninety-nine out of a hundred of the long stories folks bore me with,I'll wager," said Commodus. "If it is long we'll get to the endquicker by beginning at once. And take your time, I'll talk toyou till dark, if need be. You are entitled to all of my time youchoose to claim." Brinnaria began at the beginning and rehearsedher story fully, Commodus listening without much fidgeting andinterrupting only to say now and then:

"Yes, I know about that. I remember that." When she came toAlmo's escape from Britain the Emperor slapped his thigh andemitted a sound between a grunt and a squawk.

"The joke is on me!" he guffawed. "Just like me! Father toldme particularly about his injunctions to Opstorius, and Pertinaxhimself reminded me about Almo after Father's death. But it allwent out of my head and I never thought of it from the momentPertinax bowed himself out until this very instant. I'll make upto you for my forgetfulness, I promise you. Go on." Upon hertelling of Almo's idling at inns after he ran away fromFregellae, Commodus cut in with:

"I liked Almo, what little I saw of him, but I had forgottenhim. You make me remember him, make me recall trifling thingsabout him, attitudes, smiles, tones of his voice, witty replies,quips. I liked him. But I like him better than ever from what youtell me of him. I understand him. I know just how he feels. Ilong, sometimes, to chuck Emperorizing and go off alone, with noresponsibilities, and have a really good time hobnobbing with thegood fellows the world is full of. I envy him. I dream of doingit, but he cut loose and did it. Good for Almo." At first mentionof the King of the Grove Commodus leapt up from his throne,strode up and down the room and clapped his hands.

Two pages rushed in.

"Get out!" he shouted. "I wasn't clapping for you." He pacedthe room like a caged tiger.

"Think of it!" he exclaimed. "Think of it! Your lad certainlyhas fire in his belly, yes and brains in his head, too! Think ofit! He thought it all out up there in the raw all-day mists,thought it all out, and he works towards his purpose like apattern diplomat, like a born general, like a Scipio, like a catafter a bird! Has himself sold as a slave, bides his time, putshimself in the pink of condition, watches his opportunity.

"Think of it! Disconsolate because he couldn't marry you,moody because he has to wait so long, he seeks comfort inchallenging the King of the Grove. Oh, I love him! Only a princeof good fellows would have thought of it. No ordinary adventurewould divert him. He picks out the most hazardous venturepossible. Oh, I love him!"

When she narrated her interchange of clothing with Flexinnaand her litter-journey, Commodus looked grave. The loutishnessvanished from his attitude and expression. He became wholly anEmperor.

"Out of Rome, outside the walls, beyond the Pomoerium allnight!" he exclaimed. "That sounds bad. You were fool-hardy, tooreckless entirely. Why that is impiety. That amounts tosacrilege!" As with Flexinna Brinnaria reminded him of theVestals' flight after the disaster at the Allia and of theirsojourn at Caere, again emphasizing the contrast between theirunreprehended departure and the scrupulous steadfastness of theFlamen of Jupiter."

"You have me!" he acknowledged. "Your contentions are sound.But, all the same, even if it was merely a violation of rule,still, it is a mighty serious matter. It is a good thing for youthat I like you, that my Father trusted you so notably, and gaveme such explicit and emphatic injunctions about you, that youhave made a clean breast of it all to me. If I had known nothingmore about you than I know of Manlia or Gargilia, if I hadlearned of your escapade from anyone but you, I'd have had youformally accused, tried, convicted and buried alive with theutmost dispatch.

"As things are, after all Father had to say about you, afterhis detailing to me your several conversations with him, Iunderstand, I sympathize, I am convinced of the innocence of yourfeeling for Almo, of the austerity with which you have banishedfrom you all thoughts unbefitting a Vestal and have postponedyour anticipations of marriage until your service shall have cometo an end, I believe in the impeccable correctness of yourattitude.

"But, without that, even having learnt of your prank fromyourself, I should have thought it necessary to lay the factsbefore the College of Pontiffs and ask their opinion. It looksfishy, stravaging all over the landscape after dark with acavalier beside your litter all night long. I comprehend, Icondone, I judge that you have not impaired your qualificationsfor your high office. I have no qualms. But it is well for youthat Father instructed me. Go on, tell me the rest." Over thefight he rubbed his hands and chirruped with delight, and, whenshe spoke of the King's harem, he burst into roars of laughter,rolling himself on his throne, slapping his thighs, holding hisribs.

"Oh you women," he gurgled, "you are all alike, you Vestals asmuch as the rest! The fire of womanhood smoulders under your icycomposure like the fires of Etna under her mantle of snow.

"You more than most Vestals, of course. You are a real humanbeing, you are! So you went out to save him, even if you lostyour life trying, even if you were buried alive for it, and youcame back hot, red hot, to have him killed, and the sooner thebetter, it couldn't be too soon for you.

"Oh, I'm glad you came. I haven't been entertained like thissince I was made Emperor. Go on!" When she uttered the wordfa*gutal and told of her visit to the rookery he had another fitof laughter and exhausted himself with mirth.

When she narrated the repeated failures of the champions shehad suborned and Almo's uniform success, Commodus was inecstasy.

"He's the boy for my money," he cried. "He's worth all thetrouble you've had with him. You'll get a husband worth waitingfor. He's one in a million. One hundred and five bouts in tenmonths and victor in all of them! He's a jewel, a pearl I I'd doanything for you, as I told you, I'd keep myself on the rack dayand night for you and him. You are a pair! There's not on earththe match for the two of you!"

At the end of her story he said:

"You have not gone to all this trouble and taken up so much ofmy time and confided to me all the secrets of your heart merelyto ease your mind. There's something you want me to do, some helpyou expect to gain from me. You have given me no inkling of whatit is. What is it? Speak out!"

"He is certain to be killed sooner or later," she said,wringing her hands. "I want you to help me to save him."

"Save him!" Commodus echoed. "Isn't he competent to savehimself? Hasn't he convinced you of his ability to protecthimself—Sooner or later? Much later, very much later. Andhe's more likely to be killed by old age than by any weapon inthe hands of any man.

"I'll never understand women. No man can, I suppose. You'rebent, bound and resolved that he must die. You pour out gold likewater to compass his death. You have Italy ransacked fordexterous cutthroats. He never turns a hair. It's easy for him asfor a Molossian dog to kill wolves. He enjoys it; disposes ofevery man who dare face him. You can't find another bravo to takethe risk, not for any money! Then, when he has proved himself thebest fighter in Italy, you face about and all of a sudden you arein a wax for fear some one may kill him!

"Nobody will ever kill him. You and I saw him dispose of morethan a dozen expert gladiators, one after the other; you saw howdaintily and adroitly he did, it. You have just described hisfight with his predecessor. It was over almost before it wasbegun. The incumbent was a dead man from the moment he facedAlmo. Both knew it, too, and, since then he has done for the pickof the blackguards from all Italy. If Ravax and his gang couldfind no one to face him, there is none; if no man of that crewcould best him, not Ravax himself, no man can best him. Don't yousee?"

"No, I don't," she said. "It will be just like his fights inthe arena. No matter how often he wins, he is bound to lose atlast."

"Don't you believe it," Commodus argued. "I remember him well.I was wild over him just after Father's triumph and saw a gooddeal of him before he set out for Britain. I was then no suchall-round expert at weapon-play as I have become since, but I wasgood for my age. I fenced with him repeatedly and I know hisquality. I had all the best swordsmen in the capital pittedagainst him and not one of them was his match. Murmex Lucro didnot come to Rome till after Father's death. So I never saw Murmexand Almo fence. But let me tell you this: Murmex is the only manalive who can fence with me for points and make anything like myscore. And Almo is the only man alive, except me, who is fit toface Murmex on equal terms. There are only two men on earth whocould kill Almo in a fight with any kind of weapons—Murmexis one and I am the other.

"Why, Almo is as safe in the Grove as I am in the Palace.Don't you worry about him. Nobody will kill him; take it from me,I know."

Brinnaria, with a sharp intake of her breath, gazed about theroom and collected herself to resume her argument and make hernext point.

"Do you concede," she queried, "that I have the right to besolicitous about Almo's life?"

"Father said so," Commodus replied, "and I never knew him tobe wrong. I took that opinion from him and I see no reason tochange it."

"Do you concede," she pressed him, "that I have the right tolooking forward to marrying him at the end of my service?"

"Like Father, I do," he admitted.

"How can I ever marry him," she demanded, "if he remains Kingof the Grove?"

The young Emperor laughed merrily.

"Don't you worry about that, either," he said. "I told you I'ddo anything for you and I meant it. I told you I'd do anythingfor Almo, and I meant that too. But, as things are, doing whatyou want and what is good for him will be doing just what I mostwant myself. I have a frightfully poor memory. Barely seven yearsago my Father triumphed after what was thought a complete,decisive and crushing victory over Avidius Cassius and a hugeconfederation of nomadic tribes. Cassius was certainly abolished;he was buried. But after scarcely five years the desert nomadswere as active as ever and they have grown so pertinacious andco*cky that something must be done. I don't want to go myself, andI feel no confidence in my ability to accomplish anything if Iwent. I have been on the rack to decide whom to send. I can'tafford to send some bungler who'd mismanage and let the sand-hills devour a half a dozen of my best legions.

"My councillors and I have found no promising candidate. Allthe while I have been cudgelling my brains trying to remembersomething Father told me. I distinctly recalled that he said thathe had in view the very paragon of a commander to dispatchagainst Avidius, but that some occurrence made it impossible tosend him and he had to go himself. I couldn't for the life of merecollect what had happened to hinder the man going or what theman's name was. Since it was a verbal communication from Father Ihad no memorandum and no one else had ever known it.

"Now I remember that Almo was the man and that his infatuationwith the life of a gladiator was what prevented.

"Do you see what I mean? I shall not have to go to Syria andI'll send the very best man for that job who can be found onearth. If anybody knows what I'm doing they'll say that Almo is alunatic and I am another to send him. But nobody will ever knowand if everybody knows, what do I care. Father knew a good manwhen he saw one. I'll take his word for it that Almo provedhimself the greatest genius for desert fighting that the Republichas produced in a hundred years. And I'll follow my own intuitionthat a swashbuckler whose own thoughts prompted him to challengethe King of the Grove as a cure for tedium, who had the nerve tocarry out the idea and the skill to win a hundred and six fightsin ten months must be a good all-round man and a real man clearthrough. I take it that being put in supreme command of a greatexpedition will brush the cobwebs from Almo's brain and restorehim to himself. Do you follow my idea?"

"I cannot conjecture," Brinnaria replied, "how you expect tocarry it out."

"Simple enough," said Commodus. "I'm not the man my Fatherwas, not by a great deal. I am a natural all-round athlete, but Iwas never born to be an Emperor. All the same, when I buckle downto my job, I'm not such a bad hand at it. If I have a talk withAlmo I'll swing him my way without half trying."

"But," Brinnaria interposed, "even you, even as Emperor andChief Pontiff, cannot free a man who has become King of theGrove. There is no record of any form of exauguration for aPriest of Diana of the Underworld. There would be an outcry. OnceKing of the Grove a man must live out his life as King of theGrove."

Commodus grinned a school-boy grin.

"My dear," he said, "there are more ways of killing a dogbesides choking him to death on fresh curds."

Brinnaria stared.

"You talk," he said, "as if you had gone over all the records.Don't you recall two cases where a King of the Grove died withoutbeing killed?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"Well," he continued, "what was done?"

"Two challengers were brought forward," she said, "and theyfought each other."

"Just so," said he, "and don't you recall one case where aKing of the Grove disappeared and was believed to have run away,but was never found, nor any trace of him?"

"I remember that, too," she agreed.

"Well," he pressed her, "what was done in that case?"

"Two challengers fought each other that time also," sheallowed.

"Well," he summed up, "that's what we'll have done now. Almowill vanish. He's good at it, he's had practice. Two challengerscan be found easily enough."

"But," she cavilled, wide-eyed, "there's all the difference inthe world between egging on two challengers after the post isvacant and arranging to vacate the post. What you propose wouldbe sacrilege, impiety."

"Don't you worry about that!" he soothed her. "The priesthoodat Aricia is no part of our hierarchy; the safety of Rome in noway depends on its sanctity. It is important enough for the ninetowns that share the cult, but it concerns no others. It's analien cult, anyhow. Whether Orestes brought it to Aricia orHippolytus or who else makes no difference, nor the traditionthat it is four hundred years older than Rome. It's a disgrace toItaly and it exists on sufferance. Father told me thatGrandfather and he were both in half a mind to have it suppressedas the Bacchanals were suppressed. The curative repute of theGrove stood in the way. As for me, if it were not for thesporting character of the King's tenure, I'd see to it that Almowould be the last King. I feel free to do as I please in anymatter that concerns it."

Brinnaria said nothing.

He resumed:

"Leave it all to me. I'll go to Aricia myself; I'llexpostulate with Almo; I'll appeal to his manhood, to his pride,to his patriotism. Ten to one he's disillusioned by this time,sick of his job and ready to listen to reason. He'll promise toobey me and he'll obey me.

"The rest will be managed by men who will make no mistakes.They'll find two challengers each much like Almo in build andappearance. One dark night Almo will slip off in charge of themen I delegate for that duty; the two challengers will be guidedso that each thinks he is fighting the King of the Grove.Whichever survives will be rigged up in the customary toggery.There will be a corpse properly offered on the altar. Nobody willsuspect anything."

About a month later Lutorius conveyed to her a hint from theEmperor. She at once applied for an audience.

Commodus was as expansive as a boy who has had a good day'sfishing.

"It's all over," he said, "and everything went off just as Iforesaw and planned. Almo was disgusted and tractable. We foundtwo desperadoes of suitable make. While we steered them at eachother Almo slipped out. Besides you, your two friends, youragents, Lutorius and myself, no one knows that Almo was ever Kingof the Grove. I had him brought to the Palace and Lucro and I hadno end of good fun fencing with him. I had the Senate pass adecree relieving him of all and sundry legal consequences ofhaving been sold as a slave in Britain. I had him choose a fullstaff of the best possible aides, orderlies and such. He is offto Syria. I did not send for you until I had word that he had notonly sailed from Brundisium but had actually landed atDyrrhachium. I anticipate that the job I have sent him on willtake all of six years. Just about when your service is drawing toan end he will return to Rome covered with glory and loaded withloot. The nomads have been plundering our cities and haveaccumulated in their strongholds immense amounts of treasure.He'll get it back. Meantime your mind should be at peace."

Brinnaria was properly grateful and expressed her feelingsfervently.

"And now," said Commodus, "since I have done what you wantedand you are pleased, may I ask a favor of you? You can dosomething for me that no one else can and if you promise it willset my mind at rest to some extent."

Brinnaria earnestly promised to do her best.

"I am troubled," said the Emperor, "very much troubled. Youknow how rumors get about among people, starting no one knowswhere; and how, when such a notion is abroad, nothing on earthcan counteract it.

"Well, there's a story going about of an oracle, an oraclewhich says that the Republic reached its acme under Trajan, thatthe Empire kept up its prosperity under Hadrian and myGrandfather and Father, but that the glory of Rome is fated tofade and wane and that its decline will date from my taking overthe Principiate.

"I am worried about it. I have sent to Delphi and Dodona andevery other oracle from Olisipo to Pattala, but I can find norecord of any such oracle having been uttered. The people,however, credit it as if it came from Delphi.

"I've had a hundred oracles consulted about the matter, Delphitoo. They all hedge; not one is clear. But they all speak of animpending disaster that may be averted by watchfulness. And theyall hint darkly at some danger to the Palladium; they all mentionit somehow; most of them allude unmistakably to the Temple ofVesta; some of them manifestly refer to the Atrium; all of themspeak of fire.

"Now I know that the sacred fire will be cared for by you andManlia and Gargilia and Numisia as well as ever it was sinceNuma. Causidiena is too old to count and Terentia is too young,but in the four of you I have complete confidence as far as thefire is concerned.

"About the Palladium I don't feel so sure. The six terra-cottachests are so exactly alike and the five counterfeits are so likethe real statue that I am afraid the precautions taken to bafflean intruding thief might confuse you Vestals in a crisis.

"Do you know the real Palladium from the five dummies?"

"I do," said Brinnaria; "we all do. When I had been a Vestalfive years Causidiena showed me the Palladium. No Vestal is evershown it until she is over fifteen. Like all other young VestalsI was made to spend hours in the inner storeroom, blindfolded,learning to recognize the real Palladium by touch.

"The differences between the original and the copies are verysmall, mostly in the carving of the folds of the gown. But everyyoung Vestal is drilled until she can recognize the genuine relicby touch, one hundred times out of one hundred times, and untilshe can similarly discriminate the terra-cotta chest thatcontains it from the other five chests. I could tell thePalladium from the imitations instantly any time."

"You relieve me," said Commodus. "I've wanted to talk aboutthis to all you Vestals, but I've been ashamed to broach thesubject. Since you confided in me I feel no hesitation aboutconfiding in you."

"I promise you," said Brinnaria, "that the Palladium willnever be stolen, lost, or come to any harm if I can prevent it,and I believe I can. I pledge you my word."

"I feel better," said Commodus.

"And I want to say," Brinnaria added, "that I have always felta special interest in the Palladium. Ever since I was old enoughto share all the duties and all the responsibilities of a Vestal,my feelings have been particularly engaged with the Palladium.There is something tremendous and crushing in the thought ofbeing in charge of four of the seven objects on the safety ofwhich depends the safety of Rome and the prosperity of theRepublic. Whenever Causidiena has shown them to us youngerVestals I have felt the strongest emotions at the sight of thejar containing the ashes of Orestes, of the antique gold canisterwhich protects the plain, gold-mounted ivory sceptre of Priam, ofthe lapis-lazuli casket which enshrines the tatters remaining ofIlione's veil; but more than at sight of them I have trembledwith awe to look at that little statuette, no longer than myforearm, and to think that if it were destroyed the Empire wouldcrumble and Rome would perish. You maybe sure I shall do all Ican to keep safe the precious treasure committed to mycharge."

"I feel sure you will," said Commodus.

BOOK IV. — THE REVULSION OFDELIGHT

XX. — ACCUSATION

AFTER Almo's redemption and his departure forSyria Brinnaria calmed down. Her feverish activity abated andvanished. She ceased to take any interest in the speed of herlitter-bearers or of her carriage-teams. She took her outings fortheir own sake, not merely to feel herself transported rapidlyfrom somewhere to anywhere. She kept an oversight of her stock-farms, but she left the management of them almost entirely to herbailiffs. On music she spent more of her time and in it she tookan intenser delight.

Life in the Atrium altered chiefly through the growing up ofTerentia, whose fifteenth birthday was celebrated soon after Almoleft Italy, and by the steady waning of Causidiena's eyesight.She could still recognize familiar persons when between her andthe strong light of a door or window in the daytime; she couldstill place pieces of wood on the fire, if it was burning well.But she was plainly verging on total blindness. Except in so faras it was modified by pride in Terentia and solicitude forCausidiena, life in the Atrium flowed on as it had forcenturies.

Reports from Almo were uniformly good. From the first hedisplayed all the qualifications requisite for a commander inchief. For him everything promised well.

Under these conditions Brinnaria throve. Her natural vigor hadalways been such that she never had showed any outward signs ofthe strain to which she had been subjected. Uniformly she hadlooked handsome and healthy. But now, if anything, she lookedhealthier and handsomer than ever. She was then thirty-two yearsold. At ten years of age she had looked eighteen, at eighteen shehad looked twenty-four. At thirty-two she still looked no morethan twenty-five. Her hair was abundant and glossy, her eyesbright, her cheeks rosy; she was neither slender nor plump, but awell-muscled, graceful woman, decidedly young-looking, andaltogether statuesque in build and carriage, but very much alivein her springy suppleness.

About a year after Almo's departure for Syria Lutorius came tosee her one morning, his face grave.

He indicated that they had best confer alone. In her tinysanctum he came straight to the point.

"Daughter," he said, "my news is as bad as possible. You areformally accused of the worst misconduct."

"Why look so gloomy?" said Brinnaria. "That is comic, nottragic. Who's the fool accuser?"

"Calvaster, as you might conjecture," he answered; "and grieveto have to inform you," he added, "that this is no laughingmatter."

"Pooh!" said Brinnaria. "I'm not a bit afraid of Calvaster.Aurelius gave Commodus emphatic injunctions about me. And he wentinto details. Commodus can't have forgotten his reprimand toCalvaster nor his categorical threat."

"I fear," said Lutorius, "that his father's instructions onthat particular point are not well to the front of the Emperor'smind."

"Well, anyhow," said Brinnaria, "everybody knows mypreoccupation with Almo and everybody saw my behavior in theAmphitheatre. I feel pretty safe in respect to my generalreputation. As to particulars, I've been vigilantly careful tokeep away from Almo. Except twice, in the presence of Aurelius, Ihaven't been within speaking distance of him in twenty-two years.Between the fact that no one can prove that I have had anythingto do with him and the improbability that anyone would suspect meof interest in any other man, let alone misconduct with any otherman, I feel entirely secure."

Lutorius wagged his head.

"You are accused of misconduct with another man," he said.

"Absurd!" said Brinnaria, "easy to confute. Who is theman?"

"Not so easy to confute, I fear," said Lutorius. "The mannamed is Quintus Istorius Vocco."

"Whew!" cried Brinnaria, springing to her feet and snappingher fingers. "That is ingenious! That will give me trouble! Ididn't credit Calvaster with that much sense. I never thought ofanyone looking askance at my relations with Quintus. I've nevertaken any precautions as to when I was with him or how long orwhere. I've treated him as an honorary brother, seeing I have nobrothers of my own left alive. Flexinna has been such a sister tome, that we have disregarded Quintus almost as if he were a slaveor a statue or a picture on the wall or another woman. Whew!"

"You perceive," said Lutorius, "that the situation, ingeneral, is very serious?"

"I do, indeed!" admitted Brinnaria.

"Serious as it is in general," he went on, "it is still moreserious in particular. Your excursion to Aricia was by no meansas much a secret as you have all along supposed. I, for instance,knew of it before you confessed it to me."

"How was that?" Brinnaria inquired.

"Numisia," he explained, "saw you go out in Flexinna's clothesand recognized you. She entered your room and talked withFlexinna. She summoned me and we conferred. We both loved you andwe both believed in you. We were solicitous for the cult, but wewere nearly as much solicitous for you. We agreed that we werealmost fully warranted in assuming your entire innocence of heartand that your impulsive behavior would not alienate the good willof the Goddess. We decided to take it upon ourselves to judge youblameless and to shield you. Utta was instructed never to let youknow that Numisia had seen Flexinna; Flexinna, of course, fell inwith our plans. Numisia made every arrangement that would preventany more from learning the secret and would make your returneasy.

"After you came back safe our decision seemed justified. Italked with Vocco and learned that nothing had occurred to renderyour exposure likely, except your encounter with Calvaster. As weheard nothing from Calvaster we felt entirely successful. Itturns out that he was only biding his time. He has formallyaccused you before the College of Pontiffs, alleging in generalyour long-continued familiarity with Vocco, and, in particular,your having been outside of Rome after midnight in Vocco'scompany."

"Whew," Brinnaria exclaimed, "this is indeed serious! I feelmyself strangling or starving in a vaulted cell. What am I todo?"

"See Commodus first of all," said Lutorius.

In the short interval since her former audience, those traitsof which he had previously shown the merest traces had rapidlydeveloped in Commodus into fixed characteristics. He had becomewhat he remained until his end, an odd mingling of loutish,peevish school-boy, easy-going, self-indulgent athlete andsuperstitious, suspicious despot.

"To begin with," he said, "I want you to understand that Ilike you, that I haven't forgotten that you rescued theretiarius, whopped Bambilio and behaved like a trump when Fathertested you. I'm for you. Your colts are the cream of Italianstud-farms. You are a wonderful woman, all round. But, as aVestal, you have your weak points. I remember Father'sinstructions about you and I have all that in mind. Besides, Iknow that I, as Chief Pontiff, have the right to make my owndecision about any such matter and to brush aside anybody else'sopinion and anybody else's interpretation of the evidence. Alsomy impulse is to make use of my prerogative, dismiss theaccusation against you, reiterate Father's warning to Calvasterand get the whole thing off my mind. I don't like Calvaster and Idon't value him an atom. They say he's indispensable, but if heirritates me ever so little more I'll dispense with him and I'llwager the Republic will get on without him. You see that I amstrong on your side and almost on the point of deciding in yourfavor.

"But I hesitate. This case of yours worries me more thananything that has come up since I took over the Principiate. Icannot make up my mind.

"I'm not the man I was a year ago. I'm shaken. Father told methat the most wearing feature of his being Emperor was hisrecurring escapes from assassination. I had my first escape justafter your audience with me. It jarred me horribly. The foolbarely missed finishing me. The experience made me takeprecautions and so no other miscreant has come so near to doingfor me. But the repetitions have grown monotonous. I alwaysthought highly of your lad, and I've often wondered how hemanaged to get any sleep or swallow any food while he was King ofthe Grove, but I think immeasurably more of him since I've beenthrough something faintly similar. He deserves the best of lifeand I hope he'll get his heart's desire and marry you at the endof your service.

"You see how enthusiastically I am on your side.

"But there is much to be considered.

"If this were a question of judging a two-year-old filly I'dneed no man's advice and I'd listen to no man's opinion. I'mbetter fitted to judge a horse than any man alive. It would bethe same if it were a question of refereeing a sword-bout or aboxing-mill or a wrestling-match or anything of the kind. I knowall about such things and I know that I am a judge superior toanybody on earth. I'm a born all-round athlete and everybodyknows it and recognizes me as a past master.

"But as an Emperor, as Chief Pontiff, such is not at all thecase. I feel a fumbler, a bungler. I grope. I suspect that thejudgment of my advisers is better than mine. What is worse, Iknow that they think so. I am surrounded by men pre-eminent intheir specialties, who look on me as a green boy placed by merechance in a position which I fail to fill adequately. They watchme like hawks, they expect to see me blunder, they raise eyebrowsat each other, they exchange glances. It rattles me. I wish I hadAlexander's nerve. He was as young as I am and he brooked noopposition, but rammed his opinions down his councillors' throatsfrom the hour when he became King. But I haven't his nerve, notby a long shot. I had as good teachers as he had, too. But,Hercules be good to me, I never could learn anything out of abook.

"As a charioteer, or a swordsman I'm as confident as a lion.As an Emperor I'm as cowardly as a jackal. It's the effect of theprophecies and auguries and oracles and such. They all hint at myimpairing the prosperity of the Republic or diminishing the powerof the Empire. It gallies me when I see two old bald heads winkat each other; I know they are thinking:

"'What did I tell you! Here's this young fool ruining Rome,just as the oracle prophesies.' "It gets on my nerves.

"I daren't decide the matter on my own judgment.

"Besides, there's the danger of assassination hanging over me.All the men who have tried so far have been highly educatedmagnates of lofty principles. They seem to feel I am an unworthyPrince and that to kill me would be a service to the state. Itgalls me to think of it, and me doing my best for the Republicand the Empire, denying myself hours of pleasure daily, missingraces and all kinds of contests and toiling over documents andestimates and statistics. But it is true. If I decide this caseof yours, ten to one any number of self-righteous nobles will sayto themselves:

"'Here is this lout on the way to destroy the foundations ofRome's greatness. Rome must be saved from him. My duty is clear.He must be put out of the way.' "Nice situation for me. I darenot let loose any such possible fanaticism for my owndestruction.

"And apart from any qualms about my qualifications to judge,apart from any dread of the consequences to myself, of absolvingyou, there is my sense of duty to Rome. Here are these cursedambiguous oracles hinting some harm to Rome, mentioning fire andthe Temple of Vesta and the Palladium. Perhaps what they mean isjust the possible wrath of Vesta at an unworthy priestess. Howcan I tell?

"You see why I hesitate?"

Brinnaria nodded. She judged it no time to speak, and, had shewished to speak she could hardly have done so.

"I might not have hesitated," Commodus resumed, "if Calvasterhad come to me. But he pops up in a full meeting of the Collegeof Pontiffs and says he saw you, after midnight and before dawn,on the Appian Road, between Aricia and Bovillae, in a litter thatdidn't belong to you and with Vocco on horseback beside it. Thatputs all the Pontiffs in possession of the facts and on the watchto see how I'll decide, if I do decide. Calvaster made sure ofproving those facts, for he had two highly respectable andrespected nobles to swear that they were with him and saw Voccoand the litter and knew the litter for Nemestronia's. That he hadany number of witnesses to swear to the frequency of your visitsto Vocco's house, your habit of dining there and the freedom withwhich you treated him.

"My impulse was to tell Calvaster I disbelieved any story hefathered, that I had my Father's instructions discrediting him,that I knew all about your intimacy with Flexinna and herhusband, that I knew all about your excursion to Aricia and whyyou went and that I approved and that was the end of it. I havetold you why I hesitated.

"But I was inclined that way. I have talked with Lutorius andCausidiena and Numisia. They feel towards you as my Father felt.They believe in you and in your worthiness as a priestess, andthey minimize your irregularities. I sent for Flexinna and talkedwith her. She deserves consideration, if only because she is themother of the largest family to be found among our nobility, evenamong our gentry. She hoots at the idea of anything improperbetween you and Vocco, in act or thought. She evidently tells thetruth. It is plain that she and Vocco are a devoted pair, thatyou and he never did anything wrong or thought of anything wrong.I sent for Vocco and talked with him. I am all but clear what Ishould do, but I am not quite clear.

"Now, there are only two ways to settle this: one is for me tosettle it myself and out of hand. The other is to have a formaltrial of you before the College of Pontiffs.

"If you are tried you'll be condemned. All you can say of theinnocence of your intimacy with Vocco, all you can say of theinnocence of your regard for Almo, all I can say of my Father'shigh esteem of you, of his injunctions regarding you, will notavail to save you. The Pontiffs will not heed the considerationswhich were so plain to Father and are so plain to me and Lutoriusand Numisia. They will say it makes no difference whether youwent to Aricia because of solicitude for Almo or on account of anintrigue with Vocco. They will hold that such a manifestation ofinterest in Almo proves you almost as unfit to be a Vestal as ifit were certain that you were philandering with Vocco.

"In particular they will hold that there might be room toabsolve you had you openly gone to save Almo in your full regaliaand in your own carriage, or your own litter, with your lictorbefore you; but that while the fact of your being out of Rome allnight in a litter is damning enough, the appearance of duplicityand underhanded secrecy given to the proceeding by your beingdisguised in another woman's clothing and carried in a borrowedlitter makes terribly against you.

"Of course I could impose my will on the Pontiffs, but Ishould hesitate to override their decision, even more than Ihesitate to decide the case myself, and for the reasons I havegiven.

"Yet I must say I could forget my dread of assassination andignore any opinionated contempt I might evoke, if I could be surein my own heart that I am doing what is best for Rome; I shouldbe as arrogant an Emperor as ever Domitian was if only I feltconfident that my instincts are right. My instincts all urge meto act as an Emperor and a Pontifex Maximus and settle thismatter out of hand, once and for all.

"But I hesitate. I can't make up my mind. All I need is a signthat you are as acceptable to Vesta as I believe you are. I havetried to satisfy myself, to elicit some sign of the Goddess'will, but no sign has been vouchsafed me. I've had the SibyllineBooks consulted, which is a trying matter with Calvaster left outof the consulting board; I have sent to every oracle withinreach, have put questions to all the sibyls in all the caves ofItaly, have called in a rabble of Etruscan soothsayers, everyharuspex and auspex in Etruria, I believe. They all hedge. Theyare all vague. They are all indefinite. They give me no help!

"Now, I like you; I like Almo; I like both of you and Irespect you; I believe in you. I'd hate to wake up and call forany breakfast I had a whim for and look at it and smell it andthink of you, all alone in the dark in a vaulted cell six footunder the rubbish of that garbage-dump out by the Colline Gate.And I hate the thought of the bother and worry of a trial. I wantto put my foot down and assert my will and be done with it all.But, as I've said a dozen times already, I hesitate. Chiefly Ihesitate because I am resolute to do my duty to Rome according tomy lights. I feel I am right, but I am not quite man enough tofollow my feelings. If I could have some plain sign that Vestaunderstands and condones your past irregularities as I do, thatVesta approves of you and is pleased with you as I am, if I couldfeel Vesta corroborating my feelings, if I could evoke anunmistakable token of her will, I'd not hesitate. I'd scout thesuggestion of a trial; I'd squelch Calvaster; I'd absolveyou."

Brinnaria looked straight into his goggling, bloodshoteyes.

"Would you consider it an unmistakable sign," she said, "aplain token of my acceptability to my Goddess, of her esteem forme, if Vesta gave me power to carry water in a sieve?"

Commodus goggled his eyes at her even more thanhabitually.

"Carry water in a sieve," he cried, "as Tuccia did?"

"There is a legend," said Brinnaria. sedately, "that someVestal once proved her holiness by carrying water in a sieve. Andthe story is connected with Tuccia in popular tradition. But ifit was ever done some other Vestal did it. Poor Tuccia wasinnocent, as far as I can judge from the minutes of her trial.But she was not absolved, by intervention of Vesta or of herjudges. She was condemned and buried. You can read the verdict aswell as the details of the proceedings in the records. And whatis left of poor Tuccia is now in one of those tiny vaulted cellsunder the Wicked Field. You will find, along with the documentsof her case, the bill for the wages of the mason who completedthe vault after she had descended the ladder and the affidavitsof the sentinels who patrolled the spot day and night for amonth, according to custom."

"Never mind who did it or didn't do it, or whether it ever wasdone at all before," said Commodus, "if I saw you carry water ina sieve I'd hold it a plain sign of Vesta's particular favor toyou, of your special acceptability to her, of the correctness ofmy intuitions about you and about this whole wretchedbusiness.

"Do I understand you to offer to demonstrate your innocence bycarrying water in a sieve?"

"That is my offer!" said Brinnaria.

"But," he protested, "the thing can't be done. It'simpossible! Better stand your chance of a trial."

"I am sure," said Brinnaria, "that my Goddess will not desertme. I know I am innocent and acceptable to her. She knows me andwill give me the power to prove my worthiness. She will no failme. I know I can do it."

"Do I understand you to offer to do it in broad daylightbefore me and the whole College of Pontiffs, Calvaster andall?"

"In sight of all Rome," said Brinnaria, "if all Rome couldcrowd near enough to see."

"Do I understand you," said the Emperor, "to stake your lifeon the venture, and, just as you would expect full absolution ifyou succeed, so to expect a rigid and severely stern trial beforeme and the College of Pontiffs, with your failure countingagainst you, if you fail in the attempt?"

"That is my understanding," said Brinnaria, unflinching, herclear eyes on his face, her cheeks neither flushed nor blanched,her expression calm, her pose easy, her voice unfaltering.

"Hercules be good to me!" cried Commodus. "That is a firstclass game sporting offer! I like you, girl! I like the idea. Isee my way to a decision. I glimpse a method of banishing myhesitation. I'll take you. If you agree, clasp hands, like aman."

Brinnaria stood up and put out her hand.

"For life or death," said the Emperor.

They clasped hands.

"Done!' said Commodus.

XXI. — ORDEAL

THE next day Commodus, officially, in his fullregalia as Emperor and Pontifex Maximus, convoyed by amagnificent retinue of gorgeously apparelled gentlemen-in-waiting, equerries, aides, orderlies and pages, and of gaudilyuniformed guards, paid a formal visit to the Atrium.

He was received by Lutorius, Causidiena. and Numisia, who hadbeen in close conference most of the previous afternoon and untillate at night and again most of the morning from dawn.Causidiena, on account of her failing sight, was escorted byManlia and Gargilia.

After the exchange of ceremonious greetings Commodusasked:

"Where is Brinnaria? Why isn't she here?"

"We thought best," Causidiena replied, "that she should not bepresent at our conference."

"As to part of it I quite agree," said the Emperor. "Fairnessto her requires that much of what we have to say should be saidin her absence, as she must be free from any suspicion ofparticipation in some of our arrangements. But part of what wehave to say she must hear and some details I must talk over withher. Send for her, and meanwhile, sit down, all of you, sit down,I say."

Manlia and Gargilia departed to summon Brinnaria.

When she came and had seated herself the Emperor said:

"I've been thinking over this matter ever since you left me.Precious little else did I do yesterday and mighty little sleepdid I get last night. I'm not clear yet altogether, but I seedaylight on several points.

"What you propose is more or less like interpreting thesignificance of the appearances seen in the victim's intestinesafter a sacrifice for a specific object; it amounts to asking adefinite question of your Goddess and getting a yes or noanswer.

"That is one way to regard it and seems to me correct from thereligious point of view.

"But there is another point of view and another way to regardit, not less correct, it seems to me.

"This is a sort of a sporting proposal, like a dicing contest,or any kind of match or wager.

"Now in such matters, it is important, it is of the utmostimportance, that there should be no differences of opinionbetween the principals or among the backers or lookers-on afterthe contest or during its progress; particularly that nounexpected differences of opinion should crop up after startingthe set of actions which determine the decision. To avoid allsuch untoward possibilities, every detail must be settled inadvance before the matter comes to a test.

"Now, treating your appeal to Vesta not only as a solemninvocation of the Goddess, but also as a sporting chance, Iintend to have a definite, unquestionable understandingbeforehand on every debatable point.

"You see what I mean?

"Some of the points we others will settle without you, but weshall begin with those which you must settle or share insettling.

"I and Lutorius, Causidiena and Numisia are to be thewitnesses to the stipulations and our agreement on any point isto prove that point. I propose to make it impossible for there tobe any misunderstanding or disagreement among the four of us, tomake it certain that we four think, speak and act unanimously onall points whatever. Nothing must be assumed, everything must beexplicit.

"To begin with, is this a fair statement of your proposal?

"You maintain that you are a worthy priestess of Vesta andwholly acceptable to her. You propose to demonstrate this byasking of her the power to carry water in a sieve in the sight ofthe whole College of Pontiffs and of such other persons as I maysee fit to have present at the test. If you fail you will expectto be tried for misconduct. If you succeed you will expect to bethen and there absolved from all accusations and imputationsconnected with your deportment or behavior.

"Is that a fair statement of your proposal?"

"It is," Brinnaria replied.

"What kind of water do you propose to carry?" Commodus asked."Spring water, rain-water from a tank, aqueduct-water, orwhat?"

"I assumed," said Brinnaria, "that I would carry water fromthe river, in accordance with the legend of my predecessor:Father Tiber being himself one of our gods, one of the sternestto evildoers, yet to the righteous most kindly and helpful."

"Excellent!" said the Emperor. "My notion precisely. That issettled. I accordingly appoint as the place of your test theMarble Quay, since the porticoes flanking it shut out the mob andprotect the Quay from intruding eyes, and since the spaceenclosed by them is ample for the assemblage of the College ofPontiffs, the Senate and the Court officials. Are you satisfiedwith that place?"

"I am," said Brinnaria.

"In what kind of a sieve do you propose to carry water?" camethe next question.

"A sieve," said Brinnaria, "is a sieve."

"Not at all," Commodus objected. "There are sieves andsieves."

"Well, of course," Brinnaria reflected, "I do not mean abroken, worn-out or imperfect sieve, nor one incompetentlymade."

"Just so," the Emperor amplified. "You propose to carry waterin a sieve with a circular rim, without any hole, crevice orcrack in it and with a web stretched taut on the rim, evenlywoven and of the finest mesh."

"That expresses my unformed idea," said Brinnaria.

"Did you mean a linen sieve," the Emperor asked, "or a horse-hair sieve, or a metal sieve?"

"That," said Brinnaria, "can make no difference, if itfulfills the conditions you have just specified. I leave thechoice of material to you."

"That is the correct attitude for you," said Commodus, "anddoes you credit.

"And now I think we four will settle the other details withoutyou. Do you agree to that?"

"No!" Brinnaria objected. "I think I should be a party to thesettling of several other details."

"What are they?" Commodus queried.

"In the first place," said Brinnaria, "there should be theclearest understanding as to how much water I must carry."

"What do you mean?" the Emperor asked.

"Well," Brinnaria expounded, "a drop of water the size of mythumb-nail would not be enough, I presume. That would not beconsidered as demonstrating my innocence. You would expect me tocarry more water than that. On the other hand, to exact that Icarry a sieve full of water to the top of the rim, as if it werea pan, would be unfair to me."

"I see," said Commodus. "I should lay down the condition thatthe water must cover the web of the sieve entirely and touch therim all round, and that it should be a finger-breadth deep.Deeper than that it need not be, that depth would prove the favorof your Goddess as plainly as if you carried all Tiber. Is thatall? If not, what next?"

"Next," she said, "it ought to be definitely agreed how far Imust carry the sieve with the water in it."

"You do not need to carry it at all," said Commodus. "If youstand up and hold the sieve of water as high as your chin, youwill have proved the favor of your Goddess for you."

Lutorius, tactful and bland, here spoke up.

"Your Majesty," he said, "I doubt whether that will confuteBrinnaria's enemies or even convince the majority of thePontiffs."

"What does it signify?" the Emperor demanded, "whether anybodyelse is convinced, if I am satisfied?"

"Nothing whatever, your Majesty," said Lutorius, "if you takethat view of the matter."

"Perhaps," Commodus admitted, "there may be something in yoursuggestion. Suppose we make the stipulation that she must carrythe sieve of water from the brink of the river to the top of thesteps."

"The number of steps," Lutorius reminded him, "varies atdifferent points along the Marble Quay."

"True," the Emperor admitted. "Let us specify the middlestair, which has seven steps, if I mistake not. Do you agree tothat?" he asked Brinnaria.

"I agree," she concluded.

After Brinnaria had gone, Commodus resumed:

"Now we must decide," he said, "what kind of a sieve she is touse."

Causidiena spoke up, her all but sightless eyes strainedtowards the Emperor.

"Lutorius and Numisia and I have talked over that question,"she said. "It seems to me that it would be unfair to her for usto decide on a metal sieve. They are always coarse and theapertures between the wires are comparatively large. It seems tous that no one could carry water in a copper sieve, not even by amiracle.

"The meshes of linen sieves are the smallest of any made, butthe linen does not seem to have much sustaining power. We feelthat with a linen sieve not only Brinnaria would be, as Lutoriusexpressed it, severely handicapped for water-carrying, but that,as he also said, I fear irreverently, that Vesta herself would betoo much handicapped in respect to miracle-working."

"A mighty sensible remark," Commodus cut in, "and one withwhich I concur. You are more of a sport than I thought you,Lutorius."

"Considering only the construction of sieves," Causidienacontinued, "we were of the opinion that a horsehair sieve wouldbe the fairest. The hairs are coarser than linen threads andfiner than copper wires and the apertures between are similarlyof medium size, as sieves go.

"Besides, we have ascertained that horse-hair sieves are byfar the most usual kind. We are told that in most sieve-shops inRome all the linen sieves and copper sieves sold do not amount toone-third the horsehair sieves."

"That ought to settle that point," said Commodus. "No one cancavil if we use the commonest kind of sieve, of medium finenessand of normal make.

"As to the question of procuring one we must arrange thatBrinnaria may feel wholly secure that it has not been tamperedwith by some enemy of hers, and, on the other hand, that allpersons whatever, to whomsoever hostile or friendly, or whollyindifferent, may be at once and forever certain that neitherBrinnaria nor any partisan of hers has had any access to itbefore the test. Have you any suggestions to make?"

"Yes," Causidiena replied. "Lutorius and Numisia and I havedebated that point and have come to a conclusion which we thinkyou might approve. The best sieve-maker in Rome is CaiusTruttidius Falcifer, a tenant of one of our shops on the HolyStreet. Not only are his wares reputed the best-made sievesproduced in Rome, but he sells more than anyone else and carriesa larger stock than can be found in the possession of any otherdealer. He is sieve-maker to the Atrium, like his father beforehim. His horse-hair sieves are the closest and finest of theirkind. We use them to sift the flour for our ceremonial cakes. Ihad some brought to show you. Where are they, Numisia?"

Numisia rose and took from an onyx console a flattish dish-like basket of gilt wicker, containing a number of square cakes.In size and on account of the ridges on them, each looked muchlike the joined four fingers of a man's hand.

Commodus took one, broke it and munched a piece.

"Very good," he said. "If the excellence of the pastrydemonstrates the virtue of the sieve let us consider it proved. Ido not see, however, what the cakes have to do with it. But I amentirely willing to agree that Brinnaria is to use a horse-hairsieve made by Truttidius.

"Now, how are we to select the particular sieve so as toconvince all concerned that it is a normal sieve chosen at randomand not one doctored for the occasion ?"

"Our idea," said Lutorius, "was to arrange that Truttidius bepresent with a number of horse-hair sieves, practically with hiswhole stock of his best, and that one of those be chosen beforethe whole College of Pontiffs, perhaps by your Majesty, perhapsby some one of the altar-boys, blindfolded, if you like thatidea, or in any other manner which seems good to you."

"That," said the Emperor, "is an excellent suggestion. Butwould not there be some difficulty in carrying to the Marble Quayso large a number of sieves at once, particularly just when itwill be crowded with notables and the neighboring squares andstreets choked, even jammed, with their equipages? We should notwant to present a numerous gang of sieve-carrying slaves. But ifmore than two sieves are trusted to each slave, there will bedanger of the sieves being damaged in transit. We might find itdifficult to select one sufficiently perfect."

"We have thought of that," said Lutorius, "and have devised asolution which we think you might accept. I have arranged to haveTruttidius convey some eighty horse-hair sieves to the water-front of the Marble Quay in a flat-bottomed row-boat, such as areused for bringing vegetables to the quays of the Forum Olitorium.The oarsmen can keep the boat nearly stationary off any point ofthe Quay indicated, and the selection can be made in sight of theofficial assemblage of all the Senators and Pontiffs."

"That," said Commodus, "is an excellent suggestion. Have itcarried out and see to it that only we four know of it and thatno one but the sieve-maker and his assistants have anything to dowith conveying the sieves from his shop to the boat and that onlythe boatmen, the sieve-maker and his assistants are in the boat,that no one else has been in the boat. I'll detail any number ofmen you ask for to escort the sieve-maker and his convoy.

"I'll have the river policed and all possible trafficsuspended. Any craft that are let through the cordons of police-boats will be made to follow the other side of the river. We'llhave nothing off the Marble Quay except the boat-load of sievesand the patrol-boats." He sighed.

"I believe," he said, "that that is all except fixing the dayand the hour."

"I suggest," said Lutorius, "the day after to-morrow, theeighteenth day before the Kalends of September, the twenty-thirdanniversary of Brinnaria's entrance into the order of Vestals,and, I regret to say, the second anniversary of her nightexpedition to Aricia."

"That suits me," said Commodus.

"And the hour?" Numisia queried.

"Noon," said the Emperor.

Accordingly it was settled that Brinnaria was to face herordeal at midday on August fifteenth of the nine hundred andthirty-seventh year after the founding of Rome, 184 of ourera.

That night Numisia, conferring with Brinnaria, concluded bysaying:

"Truttidius enjoined me to remind you to be very careful notto touch the web of the sieve with your fingers. Also he saysthat, if anybody's finger touches the web of the sieve as it isbeing handed to you, you are to decline to accept it and todemand another."

"I understand that already," said Brinnaria.

The Marble Quay was that part of the embankment along the leftbank of the Tiber which was used by the Emperors of Rome forembarking on their state barges and for landing from themwhenever they took part in one of the gorgeous river processions.Also it was used by all members of the Imperial household forstarting on excursions by water or when returning from them. Itwas situated below the north corner of the Aventine Hill, not farfrom the square end of the Circus Maximus, close to the roundTemple of Hercules and near the meat market. Every trace of ithas long since vanished, its precious marbles having offered mosttempting plunder for builders of every century since the fall ofRome.

In its glory it was a space about two hundred feet long andnearly a hundred feet wide, bounded by a gentle hollow curvealong the river, and enclosed on the other three sides bymagnificent colonnaded porticoes.

The shafts of the columns were of black Lucullean marble andfully forty feet high. Their capitals and bases were of greenporphyry, the entablature they carried of red porphyry and thewall behind them of yellow Numidian marble. The area was pavedwith slabs of pinkish and light greenish marble while the copingsof the Quay and the steps leading down to the water were of coralred marble, a building material extremely rare and verycostly.

At noon on the fifteenth of August the area, lined all roundjust before the colonnade by a double rank of Pretorian guards,gorgeous in their trappings of red gloss leather, gilded metaland scarlet cloth, was thronged with Senators, Pontiffs andofficials of the Imperial Court, to the number of nearly athousand.

Midway of the crowd, near the head of the middle water-stair,a part of the pavement, ringed about by the lucky dignitaries inthe front row of spectators, was left free. In it, by the water-steps, were grouped a selection of Pontiffs, all the Flamens,four Vestals and the Emperor. The yellow river was almost free ofcraft; along the other bank some barges were being warped up-stream; nearby only patrol boats were visible.

Brinnaria, standing alert and springily erect, her white habitdazzlingly fresh, fresh as the white flowers clasped at her bosomby her big pearl brooch, looked like a care-free young matron whohad had a long night's sleep and a good breakfast. Commodus,looking her up nd down, mentally contrasted her easy pose and therosiness of her smiling face with the tense statuesqueness andaustere, almost grim countenances of her three colleagues. Henoticed that her three-strand pearl necklace seemed to become hermore than theirs became the other three and that she wore hersquare, white headdress with an indefinable difference, thatthere was a difference in the very hang of her headband and inthe way its tassels lay on her bosom. He noted two unusualadjuncts to her attire; a long, rough towel through her girdleand a gold sacrificial dipper thrust in beside it.

"Are you ready?" he asked her.

She looked him full in the face and slowly raised her leftarm, stiffly straight, hand extended, palm down, until herfinger-tips were almost level with his face and not a foot fromit. Holding it so at full stretch she asked:

"What do you think of that? Am I ready?"

Commodus regarded her finger-tips, her face, and again herfinger-tips:

"Hercules be good to me! " he exclaimed. "Not a tremble, not awaver, not a quiver. You are mighty cool. You've plenty ofconfidence. I take it you are ready."

"I am," said Brinnaria. "Where is that sieve?"

From behind her spoke Calvaster. "I have a sieve here."

Commodus rounded on him like an angry mastiff.

"Who authorized you to speak?" he demanded. "You act as if youwere Emperor. You are merely a minor Pontiff. Remember that andspeak when you are spoken to."

Calvaster, abashed but persistent, stammered:

"I merely offered a sieve."

"None of your concern to offer a sieve," Commodus growled."You insult all of us and me most of all. Do you take me to be sounfair as to subject this lady to her test with a sieve broughtand offered by her accuser?"

Calvaster was dumb.

"Show me that sieve," the Emperor commanded.

Calvaster produced from under his robes a copper-hooped sievestrung with linen.

Commodus handed it to Brinnaria.

"What do you think of that sieve?" he inquired.

Brinnaria held it up to the light and looked through the web;held it level, upside down, and looked along the web.

"It is very irregularly woven," she pronounced; "some of themeshes are three times the size of others. It is very unevenlystrung, it bags in two places." She held it up to her face amoment.

"Also," she concluded, "it has been scrubbed with wood-ashesand fuller's-earth. Vesta herself could not carry water in thatsieve."

"Give it back to me!" the Emperor ordered.

He eyed it as she had, sniffed at it like a dog at a mouse-hole, and glared over it at Calvaster.

"You advertise yourself to all the world," he snarled, "as anunworthy Pontiff and a contemptible caitiff. You attempt toentrap me into the meanest unfairness! You pose as a public-spirited citizen solicitous about the sanctity of the worship ofVesta and I find you a pettifogging wretch actuated by spite andmalice. You desire not a fair test, but the ruin of a woman youare low-minded enough to hate. Eugh!" With one of his excesses ofunconventional energy he flung the sieve far out over the river.It sailed whirling through the air, splashed in the water andsank out of sight.

"For the price of one dried bean, I'd order you thrown afterit," said Commodus to Calvaster.

He beckoned one of his aides.

"Signal that boat!" he commanded.

A broad blunt-ended cargo-boat, rather guided than propelledby its four heavy oars, came drifting down with the current. Itsgunwale was hung with horsehair sieves. Up from the thwarts stoodmany poles, each with cross-pieces, every cross-piece hung withsieves. Its oarsmen edged it nearer and nearer to the Quay andslowed its motion until it was almost stationary opposite thestair, scarcely an arm's-length from the lowest step.

When it was close the Emperor spoke to Numisia:

"Choose any sieve you see."

Numisia indicated the sieve on the forward arm of the secondcross-piece of the fourth pole from the bow.

Lutorius, at the Emperor's bidding, called the directions toTruttidius, who, bowed and bent with age until he looked almostlike a clothed ape, wizened so that his leathery, wrinkled facewas like a dried apple, was standing near the middle of theboat.

"Go down the steps," said Commodus to Brinnaria, "and yourselftake the sieve from him." Brinnaria, on the lower step, reachedover the water, and grasped the rim of the sieve which Truttidiusheld out to her. She held it up to the light. Its web was ofblack and white horse-hair, each thread alternately of adifferent color. It was made for bolting the finest flour and thetiny apertures between the hairs were all of a size and scarcelybroader than the hairs themselves.

She scrutinized the sieve from several angles and then lookedback at the Emperor.

"Are you satisfied with that sieve?" he queried.

"I am satisfied with this sieve," spoke Brinnaria, loud andclear.

"I want to see close," said Commodus, coming down thesteps.

Brinnaria, holding the sieve in both hands, lifted it towardsthe blue sky. "O Vesta!" she prayed aloud, "O my dear Goddess,manifest your divinity, succor your votary! To prove me pleasingand acceptable in your eyes, grant me the miraculous power tocarry up these stairs water from this river in the sieve which Ihold!" She lowered her arms and holding the sieve in her lefthand knelt on one knee on the lowest step, spread her towel overthe other knee and took from her belt the sacrificial dipper.With that she scooped up half a ladleful of Tiber water. On thetowel spread over her knee she carefully dried the bottom of thedipper.

Holding it just outside the rim of the sieve she glanced up atCommodus.

"Go on," he said.

She smiled.

"If you want to see me fail," she said, "talk to me. If youwant to see me carry water in this sieve, let me alone."

"I'm dumb*," said he.

*"Dumb" at this time meant unable to speak. —PGeditor

She eyed the sieve to make sure that it was level and steady.Commodus, also eyeing it, judged it both steady and level.

She brought the ladle over the rim of the sieve and lowered ituntil it all but touched the middle of the web.

She tilted the ladle slowly, slowly she poured its contentsover its lip.

She lifted it clear:

On the web of the sieve lay a silver disk, as it were, ofwater, round-edged and shining.

"Hercules be good to me!" cried Commodus.

"Keep quiet!" she admonished him. "You'll put me off." Shedipped up a ladleful of water, flirted half the water out, wipedthe bottom of the ladle on her knee and brought it cautiouslyover the sieve, cautiously she lowered it until it nearly touchedthe shining disk of water, cautiously she tilted it, cautiouslyshe let its contents flow over its lip.

The disk of water spread. She repeated the process. The diskof water spread.

Again and again she repeated the process.

The disk of water became a film hiding nearly all the web ofthe sieve.

Commodus noticed that, as she dipped up each ladleful ofwater, she watched the dipper out of the corner of her eye, as itwere, with a sort of partial, sidelong glance, but that all thewhile her gaze was intent on the sieve.

He noticed other details of her procedure.

"You never pour twice in the same place," he commented.

Rigid as a statue, the sieve in her hand as unmoving as ifclamped in a vise, Brinnaria spoke:

"If I take my eyes off the sieve," she rebuked him, "it willtilt in my hand and the water will run through. If you make melook round you'll destroy me. You are not fair."

"I'm dumb," said Commodus again, apologetically.

As she poured in the next dipper-load, the film of watertouched the rim of the sieve at one point.

Commodus heard a sharp intake of Brinnaria's breath.

The next half-ladleful she poured near the spot where thewater touched the sieve-rim.

Round near the hoop she dribbled in half-ladleful after half-ladleful until the web of the sieve was entirely covered.

She had moved slowly from the first dip into the river. Butnow, since she could not see any part of the web of the sieve,she moved yet more slowly.

Commodus began to be impatient.

"That is plenty of water," he said.

"Do you, as Pontifex Maximus," she uttered, "certify that thewater now in this sieve is as deep as you stipulated ?"

"I," said Commodus in a loud voice, "as Emperor and asPontifex Maximus, here certify before all men that the water nowsupported by the web of that sieve is enough to demonstrate thefavor of Vesta towards you and your impeccable integrity."

"Back away," said Brinnaria, "I'm going to stand up." Shethrust the handle of the ladle through her belt, brushed thetowel from her knee and with her right hand also she grasped thesieve. Holding it now in both hands, her eyes on it, she veryslowly, inch by inch, rose to her feet. When she was erect, shevery slowly drew back her left foot until her two feet were closetogether.

"Back away," she repeated. "I'm going to turn round." Slowlyshe pivoted on her firm feet until she was standing with her backto the river.

Commodus at the top of the steps stared down at her.

"Back away," she reiterated, "I'm coming up the steps." Up thesteps she came, very slowly. Planted on her right foot she wouldalmost imperceptibly raise and advance her left foot. When it wasfirm on the step, she would gradually shift her weight to thatfoot, would very deliberately straighten up and very carefullydraw up her right foot until both feet were together. So standingshe would breathe several times before she repeated theprocess.

When she was standing firm on the top step on the level of theQuay platform, she raised both hands until the sieve was levelwith her chin.

"You have won," Commodus exclaimed. "You have demonstratedyour Goddess's favor. The test is over."

An arm's length away stood Calvaster.

"It's a trick!" he cried. "That is not water."

"Not water!" cried Brinnaria.

All the forgotten tomboy of her childish girlhood surged upwithin her. The obsolete hoydenishness inside her exploded.

"Not water!" she cried, and smashed the sieve over hishead.

The rim on his shoulders, his head protruding from the torneb, frayed ends of broken horse-hair sticking up round his neck,the water trickling down his clothing and dripping from his thinlocks, from his big flaring ears, from the end of his long nose,his face rueful and stultified, he presented a sufficientlyabsurd appearance.

Commodus, like the overgrown boy he was, burst into roars oflaughter. The Pontiffs laughed, the Senators laughed, even Manliaand Gargilia laughed.

"It's a trick!" Calvaster repeated.

On the face of Commodus mirth gave place to wrath.

"Isn't that enough water for you?" he roared. "Anybody wouldthink, the way you behave, that I am the minor Pontiff and youthe Emperor. I'll teach you!" He turned and beckoned a centurionof the guard.

With his file of men he came on the double quick.

"Seize that man!" the Emperor commanded.

Two of the Pretorians gripped Calvaster by the elbows.

"March him out there to the edge," came the next order, theEmperor gesturing towards the quay-front on his right.

At the brink of the platform the Pretorians paused.

"Grab him with both your hands," the Emperor commanded, "andpitch him into the river." Over went Calvaster with a mightysplash.

As all Romans were excellent swimmers he came to the surfacealmost at once. A few strokes in front of him was the boat withthe sieves. To it he swam and Truttidius hauled him aboard andlocated him on a thwart.

After the general merriment had waned and the laughter hadabated Commodus faced the assemblage and raised his hand.

Into the ensuing silence he spoke not as a blundering lad noras a sportsman, but as a ruler. For the moment, in fact, helooked all the Emperor.

"We have all beheld," he said, "a miracle marvellous andconvincing. As Prince of the Republic, as Chief Pontiff of Rome,I proclaim this Priestess cleared of all imputations whatever.Manifestly she is dear to Vesta, and worthy of the favor she hasshown her. Henceforward let no man dare to smirch her with anyslur or slander."

XXII. — TRIUMPH

IN recognition of Brinnaria's complete andincontrovertible vindication Commodus decreed an unusuallysumptuous state banquet at the Palace, inviting to it all themost important personages of the capital, including the moredistinguished senators, every magistrate, the higher Pontiffs,the Flamens in a body and most of his personal cronies.

While old-fashioned households, such as that of Vocco andFlexinna, clung to the antique Roman habit of lying down to mealson three rectangular dining-sofas placed on three sides of asquare-topped table, this arrangement had long been supplanted atCourt by a newer invention. The mere fact that, from of old, ithad been looked upon as the worst sort of bad manners to havemore than three diners on a sofa, and as scarcely less ridiculousto have fewer than three, had made the custom vexatious in theextreme, as it constrained all entertainers to arrange for nineguests or eighteen or twenty-seven and ruled out any other moreconvenient intermediate numbers. In the progressive circles ofsociety and at the Palace, the tables were circular, eachsupported from the center by one standard with three feet, andeach table was clasped, as it were, by a single ample C-shapedsofa on which any number of guests from four to twelve couldconveniently recline.

At the Palace banquet in honor of Brinnaria, three tables onlywere set on the Imperial dais at the head of the dining hall. Onone side of the Emperor's table was that where feasted the higherFlamens and Pontiffs, the sofa of the other was occupied by theyoung Empress, by the wives of the higher Flamens, and by thefour Vestals present.

Brinnaria declared that her appetite was as good as on the daywhen she had returned home from her exile to Aunt Septima'svilla.

After two public advertisem*nts of the Emperor's favor andesteem she was entirely free from any sort of worry. Her enemieswere few, merely Calvaster and his parasites, and they werethoroughly cowed and curbed their tongues. Not only no defamationof her but not even an innuendo gained currency in the gossip ofthe city during the remainder of her term of service.

Quite the other way. Her fame as a Vestal whose prayers weresure to be heard, at first a source of natural pride andgratification to her, came to be a burden, even a positivemisery. There was an immemorial belief that if a Vestal could beinduced to pray for the recapture of an escaped slave, such arunaway, if within the boundaries of Rome, would be overcome by asort of inward numbness which would make it impossible for him tocross the city limits, so that the retaking of such fugitivesbecame easy, as it was only necessary to search the wards forthem. City owners of escaped slaves besieged Brinnaria for yearsand as it was reported that her intercessions were invariablyeffective, her fame increased and petitions for her assistancepestered her.

She bore the annoyance resignedly, reflecting that, while shewas in such repute, no one was likely to impugn her honor.

Life in the Atrium, for the ensuing six years, altered little.Causidiena, within three years after Brinnaria's ordeal, becametotally blind. Care of her devolved particularly upon Terentia,of whom she was dotingly fond.

The routine duties of the maintenance of the sacred fire thosetwo shared, for Causidiena, even stone blind, never requiredanyone's assistance to tell her the condition of the altar-fireand could care for it and feed it even alone, judging its needsby the sensations of her outstretched hands, never burningherself, never letting brands or ashes fall on the Temple floor.But in all other matters Causidiena and Terentia were concernedonly when their participation was demanded by canonicalregulations, Terentia devoting herself to attendance onCausidiena, while Causidiena officiated only when the presence ofthe Chief Vesta was indispensable.

For Numisia, Gargilia, Manlia and Brinnaria, their mainconcern was to arrange that Causidiena should have as little aspossible to do and that Terentia might devote as much as possibleof her time to entertaining Causidiena. This was not easy toaccomplish, for Causidiena's mind was perfectly clear, herknowledge of every inch of the Atrium enabled her to move aboutit unhesitatingly at all hours of the day and night, her sense ofduty urged her to do all that she had ever done when her sightwas perfect, and, like most blind persons, she resented anyreference, expressed or implied, to her infirmity. Considerationfor her called for almost superhuman tact and dexterity. To thebest of their ability the four strove to shield her without herbeing able to perceive their sedulity. To the charm of Terentia'smusic she, moreover, yielded readily. Music, as never before,occupied the leisure of the Atrium.

During these years Brinnaria was almost entirely happy. Herduties, her solicitude for Causidiena, her affection forTerentia, her delight in her own and Terentia's music filled upmost of her time.

Her horse-breeding continued to interest her, but her interestwas milder and far from absorbing. She kept it up largely becauseshe regarded her outings as imperatively necessary to maintainher health, while aimless outings bored her.

As when younger, she dined out very often and regularly withVocco and Flexinna. But since Calvaster's accusation, she nevervisited Flexinna alone, always in company with another Vestal,usually Terentia, so that her dinners at Flexinna's becamerestricted to evenings on which she and Terentia were both offduty. Terentia, who was passionately fond of small children,revelled in her visits to Flexinna's house, where there werechildren of all ages in abundance, all ready to make friends, alldiverting, all pleased at being petted, and, as Flexinnasaid:

"Not a stutterer among 'em."

From Almo news came frequently through Flexinna.

His campaign, deliberately prepared and relentlessly carriedout, progressed evenly and without any reverse.

The nomads nowhere withstood his legions and their attendantcloud of allied cavalry; one after the other their strongholdswere reached and stormed, methodically and unhurriedly he reducedtribe after tribe to submission, his prestige growing from seasonto season and from year to year.

When Brinnaria's term of service was drawing to an end andonly about eleven months of it remained, all Roman society wasconvulsed by what was variously referred to as the Calvasterscandal, the great poisoning trial or the murder ofPulfennia.

Pulfennia Ulubrana, one of Calvaster's great-aunts, was adwarfish creature, humpbacked and clubfooted.

She was an only child and her parents, in spite of herdeformities, were devoted to her. They lavished on her everythingthat fondness could suggest, and, as they were very wealthy, shenot only lived but enjoyed life in her way and to a veryconsiderable extent.

To begin with she never had an ill hour or an ache or a painfrom her earliest years. Then, like many cripples, she had greatvitality and a wonderfully alert mind. Amid the small army ofmaids, governesses, tutors, pages, litter-bearers, and so on,with which her parents surrounded her she did not become merelypeevish, exacting and overbearing, as might have been expected.Even the services of her personal physician, of three expertreaders to read aloud to her and of a half dozen musicians todivert her whenever she pleased, did not spoil her. She wasimperious enough, self-willed and obstinately resolute to haveher own way in all matters, but she had a great deal of common-sense, realized what was possible and what impossible and wasconsiderate of her entire retinue, even of such unimportantslave-girls as her three masseuses.

She was greedy of all sorts of knowledge and acquired aneducation altogether unusual for a Roman woman.

Withal she was feminine in her tastes, spent much time onembroidery and was justly proud of her complex and beautifulproductions in this womanly art. She overcame her disabilities toa great extent and, with no lack of conveyances, became a figurealmost as well-known in oman society as Nemestronia herself.

As she had an accommodating disposition, an excellent appetiteand a witty tongue, she was a welcome guest at banquets and wentabout a great deal. Also she entertained lavishly.

She survived the pestilence and, like so many of the remnantsof the nobility, found herself solitary and enormouslywealthy.

Her vast estates she managed herself and she knew to asesterce the value of every piece of property, the justifiableexpenses of maintaining each, and the income each should yield.Self-indulgent as she was and moreover an inveterate gambler, shegrew richer every year.

Like all childless Romans of independent means she was theobject of unblushing and overwhelming attentions from countlesslegacy cadgers. She enjoyed the game, accepted everything offeredin the way of gifts, services or invitations, and, moreover,played up to it, for she was forever destroying her last will andmaking a new one. Each was read aloud to a concourse of expectantand envious legatees. Each specified scores of legacies of nodespicable amount, and yet more numerous sops to numerousacquaintances. In every will Calvaster, her nearest relative andfavorite grandnephew, was named as chief legatee.

She kept on making wills, and, what was more, she kept onliving. Naturally her wealth, her eccentricities, her amazinghealthiness and her obstinate vitality were subjects of generalremark by all the gossips of the capital.

One night, an hour or two after midnight, she was seized withviolent internal pains, and, in spite of the ministrations of herprivate physician, died before dawn.

In Rome any sudden death was likely to be attributed topoison. In her case the indications, from the Roman point ofview, all converged on the inference that she had been poisoned.No-one questioned the conclusion.

Calvaster was immediately suspected. The evidence against himwould not suffice to put in jeopardy any one in our days. To theRomans it seemed sufficient to justify his incarceration andtrial. He had more to gain by the old lady's death than anybodyelse. He had been chronically in need of money and there had beenmuch friction between him and Pulfennia on this point. She hadalways provided for his necessities, but had always insisted onscrutinizing every item in his accounts, and on being convincedof his need for every sesterce she gave him. She had supportedhim, but by an irritating dole of small sums. He had joked withhis cronies about her hold on life. He had been heard to say thathe would be glad when she was gone. He had bought various drugsfrom various apothecaries, though none within a year of her deathand none used merely as a poison. Under torture some of herslaves and some of his slaves told of his having tried to inducethem to put poison in her food.

Roman society promptly divided into two camps on the questionof his guilt or innocence. The subject was debated withvehemence, even with acrimony. He had been a disagreeablecreature from childhood and had made many enemies. On the otherhand, great numbers of fair-minded people asserted that no man,however distasteful to themselves, should be convicted on suchflimsy evidence.

His trial was watched with great interest, and when he wasconvicted and an appeal was successful and a retrial ordered,upper class Rome seethed with altercations. The case, by commonconsent, was tabooed as a subject of conversation at all socialgatherings; feeling ran so high that it was possible to mentionthe matter only between intimate friends.

Naturally Flexinna and Brinnaria, Terentia and Vocco discussedthe case frequently. To her friends' amazement Brinnariamaintained that she did not feel convinced of Calvaster'sguilt.

"I always despised him and hated him," she said, "and Idespise and hate him as much as ever, if not more. He certainlyhas been my worst enemy and he came very near to ruining me. ButI see no reason why hate should blind me in judging his case. Ishould be glad to have him plainly convicted and put to death. Itwould please me. But I am not pleased at his present plight. I amnot convinced of his guilt. I don't believe any slave evidencegiven under torture. A tortured slave will say anything he thinkslikely to relax his sufferings or please his questioners. And Isee no proof of Calvaster's guilt in the other evidence.Everybody buys such drugs as he bought. And suppose he did jokeabout Pulfennia's tenacity to life, who wouldn't? I don't believeit is proved that she died of poison anyway. People who havenever been ill are reckless eaters. Look at me, I am. She mayhave died of indigestion or stomach-ache or what not. I'd doanything I could to save him, now."

"D-D-Do you mean to say," spoke Flexinna, "that if youencountered him being led out to execution, you'd reprievehim?”

"A Vestal can't use her prerogative of reprieving criminals,"said Brinnaria, "unless she encounters by accident a criminalbeing led to execution. She can't lay in wait for one. Anysuspicion of collusion vitiates her privilege. The encounter mustbe unforeseen."

"Suppose," said Flexinna, "you did meet C-C-Calvaster on hisway to execution, wouldn't you g-g-gloat over him and watch himon his way and not interfere?"

"No, I should not, I should interfere," said Brinnaria, "andanyhow, what is the use of supposing? Suppose the moon fell onyour front teeth, would you stop stuttering?"

In June of 191 Almo returned from Syria, completely victoriousand much acclaimed. He brought with him his veteran legions andwas received with every mark of the Emperor's favor. After hisofficial reception he at once left Rome for Falerii, where he wasto remain until the last day of Brinnaria's service.

Meanwhile his house on the Carinae was opened and put in orderunder Flexinna's supervision.

On August 14th, Lutorius, Causidiena, Numisia and Brinnariahad a long conference as to the details of her wedding, which wasto take place on August 16th.

The subject needed not a little discussion, as thecirc*mstances were unusual. Having no parents, nor indeed anynear connections, it was inevitable that the wedding should varya great deal from what was customary.

It was decided that on leaving the Atrium after herexauguration, she should spend one night as the guest ofNemestronia; that on the next day she should go to Vocco's houseand be married from there; but that in the ceremonies, Lutorius,who had been her spiritual father for many years, should take thepart which her own father would have taken had he been alive. Itwas also decided that the wedding feast should be at Almo'shouse, after the wedding-procession, instead of at Vocco'sbefore, as it would have been if she had living parents and wasbeing married from her home.

Lutorius, who had a warm personal affection for Brinnaria, hadbeen hovering about her, as it were, for some days, and on thislast full day of her service he kept, so to speak, fluttering inand out of the Atrium, repeatedly returning to confer about sometrifle or other which he had forgotten.

So it happened that he was approaching the portal as she cameout for her afternoon airing.

"You have your light carriage, to-day, I see," he said."Yesterday you had out your state coach. Why the difference?"

Brinnaria, settling herself among her cushions, leaned outtowards him as he stood beside the vehicle, holding on to thetires, his arms stiff, a hand on each wheel.

"This," she said, "is merely a constitutional. Yesterday Itook my last outing with all my special privileges as a Vestal,drove all over Rome in my state coach, drove up to the Capitol,and, in a fashion, said farewell to the advantages of myoffice."

"How do you feel about it all?" he asked.

Brinnaria pulled a wry face and laughed a forced laugh.

"I am finding out," she said, "why so few Vestals ever leavethe order. When I realize that, after to-day, I shall have nolictor to clear the streets for me, that I may go out in mylitter daily, but even so without a runner ahead, that I maynever again drive through Rome, that I have been driven up to theCapitol for the last time and may go there hereafter only afootor in my litter, I am almost ready to change my mind, give upfreedom and matrimony and Almo and all and cling to myprivileges. When it comes over me that, as I go out to-day, thelictors of any magistrate will salute me, even the lictors of theEmperor, whereas after to-morrow noon there will be no salutesfor me, I understand why most Vestals live out their lives in theorder."

"There is time still to change your mind and stay with us," hesaid, smiling.

Brinnaria laughed a perfectly natural laugh.

"No danger," she said; "my heart is Almo's as always."

"And now, if you have nothing urgent to discuss, I'm off!"

"Where to?" asked Lutorius.

"I don't care," said Brinnaria, "I don't even want to know.Give the coachman any orders that come into your head, sketch around-about drive for me. I'm in the humor to have nothing on mymind."

Lutorius, with a comprehending smile, whispered to thecoachman, who mounted his tiny seat.

Almost at once Brinnaria was lost in thought and joltedthrough the streets oblivious to her surroundings, not evenseeing what was before her eyes.

From her muse she was roused by the halting of thecarriage.

Amazed, she looked up.

Still more amazed, she recognized, standing near the head ofthe off-horse, the state-executioner.

This repulsive public character, tolerated but despised andloathed, was the last living creature in or about Rome who woulddare to approach a Vestal.

At sight of him she was inundated with a hot flood of wrath.She was about to call to her lictor, to demand why the carriagehad stopped and rebuke him for being so negligent as to allow sounsavory a being to come so near her.

Then she saw between her and the executioner, just in front ofthat official, a kneeling figure.

She recognized Calvaster.

Also she saw the guards and executioner's assistants groupedabout the two.

It came over her that she had encountered, wholly by accident,this gloomy convoy, and that before her, beseeching her for areprieve, begging for a mere day and night more of life, knelther inveterate, furtive enemy.

She raised her hand and looked the executioner full in theeyes.

"Send him back," she commanded. "He is reprieved until thishour to-morrow." The guards dragged off Calvaster, babbling hispitiful gratitude.

"Drive home," said Brinnaria to her coachman.

XXIII. — SALVAGE

THE exauguration of a Vestal, by which canonicalritual she was formally released from her obligations of chastityand service and became free to go where she liked and to marry orto remain unmarried as she preferred, was a brief and simpleceremony. But it required the presence of all the Vestals, of themajor Flamens, of many Pontiffs, of the entire College of Augursand of the Emperor himself as Pontifex Maximus. Commodus, who wasimpatient of anything which curtailed the time he might lavish onathletic amusem*nts, arrived precisely at noon, at the very lastminute. The moment he had entered the Atrium he hurried theceremony. It was soon over and Brinnaria no longer a Vestal, buta free woman.

It had been arranged that immediately after her exaugurationher successor should be taken as a Vestal there in the Atrium byCommodus himself as Chief Pontiff. Little difficulty had beenencountered as to selecting a candidate, since a most suitablechild had been offered by her parents, people of xcellent familyand of unblemished reputation. Her name was Campia Severina, andshe was a small girl, just seven years old, plump, with a roundfull-moon of a face, a leaden-pasty complexion, and a most un-Roman nose, flat, broad and snub.

Commodus, prompted by Lutorius, droned through the requiredquestions and showed manifest relief when he pronounced the word"Beloved" and the second ceremony was over.

He was, however, not wholly a loutish and unmannerly Emperor,but could be tactful and gracious when his interest was aroused.He took time to speak to each of the Vestals; complimentedTerentia on her music and spoke of the Empress's admiration ofher organ-playing, had a brief but kindly commendation for Manliaand Gargilia; praised Numisia highly for her efficient dischargeof the duties devolving on her, and condoled with Causidiena onher blindness and feebleness, wording what he said so dexterouslythat she could not but feel cheered and comforted.

Then, aside from the assemblage of Pontiffs, Augurs, Flamensand the rest, he spoke privately with Brinnaria:

"I'm sorry to lose you," he said; "I felt comfortable aboutthe Palladium as long as you were a Vestal. Numisia is a woman tobe relied on too, and Gargilia and Manlia are capable creatures,but not one of the three is your equal in any respect and theyare but three; the others are a corpse, a doll and an infant.

"Understand I'm not growling at your departure, I am trying toconvey to you how highly I esteem you. I'll advertise it to allthe world by having you and your husband, the moment you aremarried, put on the official roster of my personal friends whohave the right of access to me at all times and can go in and outof the Palace at their pleasure.

"As to your wedding, I'm sorry I gave you my promise to stayaway from it. I think that this recent notion of yours that themarriage of an ex-Vestal is an ill-omened occasion, like afuneral, is morbid and baseless. Every Vestal has a right toleave the order at the end of her term of service and to marry ifshe pleases. The right is indubitable. Nothing that is right isill-omened. I think that an ex-Vestal's wedding ought to beregarded precisely as the wedding of anybody else. The most I'llconcede is, that it might be likened to the wedding of a widow,considering her service as a sort of first marriage. That is myjudgment, not merely as a man but as Chief Pontiff.

"My impulse is to revoke my pledge and to do all I can to makeyour wedding a grand affair. But I'm too good a betting man tobreak a promise. Besides, though I impugn your arguments as anex-Vestal, I respect your personal preference for a quietwedding. I'll not insist on being invited to the banquet, and, sofar from taking part in the procession, I'll not even peep at itdown a side street. I'll keep inside the Palace.

"But I want you to release me from my promise in one smalldetail. I want to be present at Vocco's to see you two break andeat the old-fashioned cake, and I want to be first to sign yourmarriage register. I promise to leave as soon as I have signedthe register."

Brinnaria, of course, could not but acquiesce.

"Good for you!" said the Emperor, "and thank you too. I'llkeep away from the procession, but that won't make any differencein the throngs you'll find along your route. They'll jam thestreets and you'll have to plough your way through. No Emperorcould ever call out more sight-seers than will the wedding ofBrinnaria the water-carrier." He then went out into the streetwhich his escort blocked, and departed, accompanied by hiscoterie of boxers, wrestlers, swordsmen, jockeys and such-like,convoyed by a large and gorgeous retinue of pages, runners,guards nd lictors.

Immediately after his departure Brinnaria said her farewellsand set out for Nemestronia's.

Next morning, as she descended from her litter at Vocco'sdoor, a Vestal's carriage drove up and Gargilia got out.

"You're surprised to see me at this hour," she said, "and Idon't wonder." When they were indoors and seated with Flexinnashe explained:

"We have been having a terrible night at the Atrium and theworst sort of luck this morning. That little fool of a Campia isthe most complete cry-baby and the most homesick little wretch Iever saw or heard of. She has sobbed herself ill and screamed usall out of a night's sleep. Terentia and Manlia were up half thenight with her and she waked me and Causidiena.

"The result is that Causidiena has had one of her semi-fainting spells and is in her arm-chair for the day, poor Manliahas one of her splitting headaches and Terentia is almost as bad.I never saw the Atrium in such a state. Campia goes to sleep offand on from exhaustion, but she wakes up howling and keepsblubbering and whining and sniveling. I left both Terentia andManlia in tears. They are so vexed to think that to-morrow theywill be entirely well, but for to-day there is absolutely nothingfor it but they must both keep abed and in the dark.

"Numisia sent me to tell you that she will be at your wedding,will walk in the procession and will be at the banquet, but thatI must be on duty in the Temple. So we'll just have to have ourchat now and when I leave we shall not see each other again forthe present."

As she climbed into her carriage she said:

"I'm sorry you haven't a bright wedding day."

"So am I," said Brinnaria, glancing up at the gray canopy ofrainless cloud which hid the sky; "any day is a good day to bemarried on, but I hoped for sunshine."

Commodus, faithful to the spirit of his promise, came toVocco's house with the smallest possible official retinue. He wasin the best humor, affable and genial, and cast no chill offormality over the ceremony. He was the first to set hissignature to the marriage register, signing in his sprawlingschool-boy hand. Then he stood aside and looked on whileFlexinna, as matron of honor, led Brinnaria to Almo and joinedtheir right hands, while they seated themselves side by side onthe traditional cushioned stools, while the Flamen of Jupiteroffered on the house-altar the old-fashioned contract-cake, andsaid the formal prayers for the happiness of the bride and groom;while the Flamen's assistant, one of Flexinna's older boys,carried the cake to Almo and Brinnaria and each broke off a pieceand ate it, she uttering the old-time formula:

"Where you are Caius I am Caia."

Above the voices of the guests Commodus' could bedistinguished shouting with them:

"Good luck! Good luck!"

In the silence that followed he warned:

"Now, no rising, no bowing. I'm not here to spoil thiswedding, I came to enjoy it. No bowing, I tell you, no rising.Let me get out like an ordinary man."

Into the gathering dusk he vanished with his retinue.

As soon as he was gone the arrangement for the processionbegan, the slaves lit their torches and grouped themselvesoutside the house-door, the flute players struck up a tune,Flexinna's thirteen-year-old boy lit his white-thorn torch at thealtar-fire, her eleven-year-old and nine-year-old, as pages ofhonor, caught Brinnaria by the hands and led her out at the door.So led by the two little boys, their brother with the white-thorntorch walking before her, she passed through the streets toAlmo's house, Nemestronia and Flexinna on either side of Almo,close behind her, Vocco and the other guests following.

The people made good the Emperor's prophecy.

From house-door to house-door the streets were packed withcrowds eager to see her pass and loud to acclaim her. Throughcheers, good wishes, loud jokes, merry longs and cries of"Talassio! Talassio!" she passed along the upper part of thefa*gutal, and past the flank of the Baths of Titus to theCarinae.

Her bridal dress of pearl-gray, with the flame-colored bridalveil, reminded her more than a little of that costume ofFlexinna's which she had worn to Aricia and back, only that wasmostly pink, this mostly gray.

She looked well in it and wore the six braids and the headbandmore naturally than most brides, having been habituated to themfor thirty years, since all Vestals always wore the bridalcoiffure.

At the doorway of Almo's house, the bearer of the white-thorntorch halted and faced about inside the door, his two littlebrothers let go her hands, Almo himself caught her up clear ofthe pavement and swung her clear of the door-sill. As he held herin the air, nestling to him, she repeated the formula:

"Where you are Caius, I am Caia."

When he set her down inside the house she was at last amarried woman.

She turned and watched the scramble for the white-thorn torchwhich its bearer first put out and then threw among the crowdafter the slaves had also put out their torches.

So watching, Almo's arm about her, she became aware of astrange something in the look of the crowd and of the street.

"What makes it so light?" she asked Almo. "Why are the tops oftheir heads all bright that way?"

Lutorius, who was near them, explained:

"There is a big fire somewhere the other side of the Capitol.I noticed it at the top of the street. The Capitol stood outblack, the outline of both temples plain as in the daylight,against the red smoke behind it."

"Send some of the slaves," said Brinnaria, "to find out wherethe fire is, and let us lie down to dinner. I'm as hungry as awolf." And like a true Roman she began with a trifle of threehard-boiled eggs, merely to take the edge off her appetite.

There were six tables set in Almo's dining-room and an amplecrescent-shaped sofa to each. The sixty guests made the big roombuzz with talk and echo with laughter.

Nemestronia called across to Brinnaria:

"Now you have what you've always wanted. You're a marriedwoman at last."

"And I'll soon have what I've wanted almost as much,"Brinnaria replied.

"What's that?" several voices called.

"Two desires," Brinnaria explained, "haunted me all the whileI was a Vestal. One was the longing for a horseback ride. I usedto revel in galloping bareback. I haven't been astraddle of ahorse for thirty years. It won't be many days now before I shallenjoy a good canter on a good horse.

"Then, by to-morrow night, I trust, I shall have had a finelong swim with my husband and six hundred other couples in thebig basin of one of the City Baths.

"Words could not tell you how I have longed to go swimming inthe public baths with the rest of my kind, as a lady should."

The messengers returned with the news that the fire hadstarted near the round end of the Flaminian Circus, close to theTemple of Bellona. Before a strong wind it had spread both ways,had caught everything in the north slope of the Capitol betweenit and Trajan's Forum: the silver-smiths' shops were all ablaze;to the south it had crept between the slope of the Capitol andthe theatre of Marcellus and was sweeping over the booths of theVegetable Market.

"It is the biggest fire in our time," said Lutorius.

"Where will it stop?" queried Numisia.

Both sent their lictors to make further report.

Before the dinner was half over they returned, with messengersfrom the Atrium. The conflagration was roaring up the VicusJugarius and Gargilia was alarmed.

Lutorius and Numisia hastily excused themselves, called fortheir shoes and went off; he in his litter and she in hercarriage.

As Brinnaria was about to cut the wedding cake her formerlictor, Barbo, thrust himself into the dining-hall, frantic withconcern, and narrated how the fire was beyond any hope of controland was already devouring the Basilica Argentaria and BasilicaJulia.

"Lutorius has had the sacred fire carried out of the Temple ina copper pan by Gargilia and Manlia," he said, "and Terentia andNumisia, with little Campia, were helping Causidiena along theHoly Street. Causidiena had an earthenware casket in her arms. Isaw them turn the corner to their right into Pearl-Dealers Lane.They are safe in the Palace by now."

"Safe in the Palace?" Brinnaria echoed.

"Yes," Barbo repeated. "Safe in the Palace. They say that theTemple and the Atrium must burn, nothing can save them."

"The Temple!" cried Brinnana. "Fire! And everybody ill exceptGargilia and Numisia! And all they could think of would be savingthat dear old blind saint and that contemptible cry-baby. Ten toone they have missed the Palladium and taken one of the dummiesby mistake!

"O, Almo, I must go save the Palladium!"

Of course Almo protested.

"Don't hinder me," she begged. "Go I must, whether you objector not. We'd never forgive ourselves if to-morrow we learned toolate that the Vestals missed the true Palladium in the confusion,whereas I might have saved it if I had tried. They may have takenthe real Palladium; I may be too late now to save it if they madea mistake, but I am bound to try."

He shut his lips, but she read his eyes.

"That is like my hero," she said. "Patriotism first, selflast.

"Barbo," she called, "run before me and clear the way as if Iwere still a Vestal. It's illegal, but it will work."

She started for the house-door and then paused.

"Have you any fire buckets?" she asked Almo. "Then have two ofthe slaves each fill a bucket and keep close behind us."

Amid the prayers and blessings of the wedding-guests, theywent out hand in hand, the two slaves with leather water-bucketsbehind them, Barbo ahead, bellowing:

"Room for Brinnaria Epulonia! Room for Brinnaria Epulonia!" Atthe street corner, before they started down the slope of theCarinae, they had before them a wide view over the city directlytowards the Capitol. Between them and the Capitol Hill they couldsee the buildings about the Great Forum all one sea offlames.

"The Basilica AEmilia is on fire," said Brinnaria, "and theTemple of Augustus is just catching. We shall be in time; ourTemple won't catch before we get there.

"Run, let's run."

Run they did, the crowds making way at Barbo's loudadjurations. In their wedding finery, she with her veil wrappedround her head like a market-woman's shawl, they ran, hand inhand between the great Temple of Venus and Rome, black on theirright hand against the reddened clouds, and the vast Colosseum ontheir left, all orange in the glare, the gilding on its awningpoles glimmering.

Up the Sacred Street they passed, running when they could,ploughing through the crowds when the crowd was too thick.

By the time they passed through the Arch of Titus they wererunning, panting and gasping, through a hail of warm ashes, hotcinders, glowing embers, blazing bits of wood, flamingbrands.

At the corner of the Pearl-Dealers Exchange Almo halted,detaining her by her gripped left hand.

"It is no use," he said; "we are too late. You might pass theportal of the Atrium alive, but you'd never get back alive. And Idoubt if you could reach the portal through this heat. You'dscorch to death."

"I shall reach the portal," Brinnaria declared, firmly. "ButI'm not coming back through it. Listen to me and don't forget.I'm going to make a dash for the portal. I can reach it, ourTemple has not caught yet, the bronze-tile roof will hold thefire off the beams some time. This end of the Temple of Augustushas not blazed yet; I can see the cornice.

"Once inside the Atrium I'll not try to come back this way,I'll find the Palladium or make sure it is not there; then I'llrun upstairs to the south-east corner. Those rooms are on a levelwith the pavement of the New Street."

"But," Almo interrupted, "there isn't an opening towards theNew Street. The outer wall of the Atrium towards the Palace isall blank wall to the cornice, not even a ventilation holeanywhere."

"I know," she rebuked him; "keep still and listen. I'll runinto the third room from the corner. All that end of the Atriumis of brick and cement, not a beam anywhere and the ceilings arevaulted; the fire will be a long time reaching me there. You goup Pearl Dealers' Lane to the corner of the New Street. From thecorner measure thirty-eight feet along the New Street. At thatpoint have a hole smashed through the wall. There are hordes offiremen about with their axes, sledge-hammers and pick-axes.They'll hack a hole through for you in no time. The wall is thinthere; we had a temporary door made there three years ago for theplumbers when they were putting in the new bath-rooms.

"Now, every moment is precious. Hold my hand and help me tomake my dash for the portal, but drop my hand and turn back atthe portal; no man may enter the Atrium, except a Pontiff or aworkman. When I squeeze your fingers, drop my hand and make yourdash back.

"Don't try to check me, husband; self last and patriotismfirst, for every Roman of us all. We have waited thirty years foreach other and we've hardly had time for three kisses yet. But ifwe must lose each other to save Rome, then we must.

"If I fail, good-bye!" Then she turned and called thetrembling slaves to come nearer.

She ordered:

"Dash that water over us, one over him, one over me. Don'twaste any, pour it on our heads. Now go where you please!"

Dripping, hand in hand, they ran over the cinder-strewnpavement, under the rain of blazing fragments, up the SacredStreet, between the furnace-hot walls.

Under the long arcade they were safe.

At its further end she had to face a dash of some ten yardsthrough the blazing brands, the very air seeming on fire.

"I'm afraid I" she cried. "Be brave, Almo, and give mecourage!" Her fingers pressed his, their hands parted.

Her hands over her face she dashed forward.

He saw her vanish through the portal.

He ran back.

Inside the Atrium Brinnaria turned to her right, passedthrough a small door, traversed four dark rooms and groped,kneeling on the floor.

Her fingers found five earthenware caskets in a row.

Swiftly she felt them.

The third she opened.

Carefully she fingered the statuette inside, running the tipsof her finger-ends along the carved folds of the gown, over thehelmet, over the fingers clasping the spear.

With the statuette in her hands she stood up. Tearing off herveil she wrapped the statuette in it.

Back she went to the peristyle, and ran round it to her right.Under the roof of the colonnade she was safe from the rain ofbrands, but even in there the heat was appalling. She felt as ifthe very marble columns must crumble beside her as she ran.

At the far corner of the courtyard she dashed through a doorand ran up two flights of stairs; a short flight in front of her,and a longer flight to her left from the landing of the first. Atthe top of the stairs she passed through four rooms. In thefifth, lighted from behind her through a door by an orange glowfrom the glare of the conflagration, she sank down on the flooragainst its farther wall.

Almost at once she was on her feet, recoiling from the wall.It quivered with the shock of blows from the outside.

A shower of plaster and bits of brick stung her face andspattered all over her.

She saw the point of a pick-axe shine an instant in the fire-glare.

"I'm here," she called. "I'm safe. Take your time. It's nothot in here yet." The excited blows thudded on the wall. Thesledges broke a hole as big as her head, four times as big as herhead.

"Take your time!" she repeated. "There is no hurry now." Soonshe could see the torches outside, the faces of the firemen,Almo's face.

"No!" she said, "I won't be dragged through a crevice. Thereis plenty of time. Dig that hole bigger!" When it was largeenough to suit her she bade her rescuers back away.

"No man must touch what I carry," she warned.

Outside, in Almo's arms, she was hurried through windingalleys, up narrow stone stairways, to the Palace.

At the end of a deep, dark passageway between high wallslu*torius, with some of the Emperor's aides, was waiting for themat a small door. He guided them to where they were eagerlyexpected. As they threaded the corridors, they heard, at firstfar off, then closer and closer, the sound of a child wailing,bawling, blubbering. Even in the Palace, Campia was anirrepressible cry-baby.

In the chapel of the Statue of Victory they found the Vestals,the Empress and the Emperor.

"I've got it safe," Brinnaria proclaimed.

"I'm a frightful-looking bride," she added, "wet as a drownedpup, scorched all over, all my hair burnt off; I must look aguy."

"Never mind that," said Commodus; "you can't get home to-night, the conflagration is still spreading. I doubt if thefiremen can save the Colosseum. It would take you till daylightto work your way round the districts which are in confusion.You'll sleep here. I've had Trajan's own private suite made readyfor you two, as soon as the first messenger told me of yourgallantry. You'll find an army of maids and such waiting for you.Go make yourselves comfortable.

"The bedroom of Rome's greatest Emperor is none too ood foryou. Nothing is too good for you, Brinnaria.

"You've saved the Palladium, and me, and the Empire and theRepublic and Rome."

THE END

Roy Glashan's Library
Non sibi sed omnibus
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