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diff --git a/6070-0.txt b/6070-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6d62db3 --- /dev/null +++ b/6070-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10257 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Unwilling Vestal, by Edward Lucas White + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Unwilling Vestal + +Author: Edward Lucas White + +Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6070] +Last Updated: November 20, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE UNWILLING VESTAL *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer + + + + + + +THE UNWILLING VESTAL + +A Tale of Rome under the Caesars + +By Edward Lucas White + +Author of “El Supremo” + + + + Original Project Gutenberg editor’s note: First published in + 1918, this book went through sixteen printings before it + ceased to be a money-maker for its publishers. It provides a + fascinating glimpse into a world most of us know nothing + about. + + It has been slightly re-edited for ease in reading as an + E-text. The author’s spellings have been left alone even when + they are incorrect in English English, American English, and + Latin. + + + + +JACKET BLURB: + +EDWARD LUCAS WHITE Author of “El Supremo” + +This book presents, for the first time in fiction, a correct and +adequate account of the Vestal Virgins, their powers and privileges, as +well as of many strange Roman customs and beliefs. + +The author combines the power of writing a rattling good story with +a sound and full knowledge of conditions of the life which he +is depicting. Mr. White brings to the history of Rome all the +picturesqueness and power which made his South American novel, “El +Supremo,” so remarkable. The result is a vivid pageant of imperial Rome +and Roman life at the height of its power and splendor. + + + + +PUBLISHERS’ NOTE + +Readers of _The Unwilling Vestal_ who are not acquainted at first hand +with the lighter and more intimate literature of the Romans may be +surprised to discover that the lights of Roman high society talked slang +and were interested in horseracing. Most writers who have tried to draw +Roman society for us have been either ignorant or afraid of these facts. +The author of _The Unwilling Vestal_ is neither. He presents to us the +upper class Romans exactly as they reveal themselves in the literature +of their day; excitable, slangy, sophisticated and yet strangely +credulous, enthusiastic sportsmen, hearty eaters and drinkers, and +unblushingly keen on the trail of the almighty denarius. In a word, very +much like the most up-to-date American society of to-day. + +The Publishers feel that it is only fair that it should be made plain +that the great difference between the Roman society folk of _The +Unwilling Vestal_ and those appearing in other novels is due to the +author’s thorough acquaintance with the people and the period about +which he is writing. + +Incidentally, the Publishers wish to thank Mr. C. Powell Minnegerode, +the Curator of the Corcoran Gallery of Art of Washington, D. C., for his +permission to reproduce Leroux’ beautiful painting “The Vestal Tuccia” + for use on the wrapper of the volume. + + + + +PREFACE BY AUTHOR + +The title of this romance is likely to prejudice any reader against it. +There exists a popular delusion that fiction with a classical setting is +bound to be dull and lumbering, that it is impossible for it to possess +that quality of bravura slangily denominated “punch.” Anybody will be +disabused of that notion upon reading this story. + + PG EDITOR’S NOTE: The slang is now, alas, over ninety years + old. It now sounds even more stilted than the classical + language does. + +On the other hand, after having read it, almost any one will be likely +to imagine that a novel with so startling a heroine and with incidents +so bizarre cannot possibly be based on any sound and genuine knowledge +of its background; that the author has conjured out of his fantasy not +only his plot and chief characters, but also their world; that he +has created out and out not merely his Vestal, but his Vestals, their +circumstances and the life which they are represented as leading: that +he has manufactured his local color to suit as he went along. + +Nothing could be further from the actuality. The details of rule and +ritual, of dress and duties, of privileges and punishments are set forth +in accordance with a full first-hand and intimate acquaintance with +all available evidence touching the Vestals; including all known +inscriptions relating to them, every passage in Roman or Greek +literature in any way concerning them, the inferences drawn from all +existing or recorded sculptures and coins which add to our knowledge of +them, and every treatise written since the revival of learning in Europe +in which the Vestals are discussed. The story contains no preposterous +anachronisms or fatuous absurdities. Throughout, it either embodies the +known facts or is invented in conformity with the known facts. + +Any one to whom chapter twenty-one seems incredible should consult an +adequate encyclopedia article or an authoritative treatise on physics +and read up on the surface tension of liquids. + + + + +LIST OF CONTENTS + + Book I + + The Rage of Disappointment + + I. Precocity + II. Sieves + III. Stutterings + IV. Pestilence + V. Escapades + VI. Notoriety + VII. Audience + + Book II + + The Revolt of Despondency + + VIII. Scourging + IX. Alarms + X. Conference + XI. Farewell + XII. Observances + XIII. Perversity + XIV. Amazement + + Book III + + The Rebellion of Desperation + + XV. Rehabilitation + XVI. Vagary + XVII. Recklessness + XVIII. Fury + XIX. Comfort + + Book IV + + The Revulsion of Delight + + XX. Accusation + XXI. Ordeal + XXII Triumph + XXII. Salvage + + + + +BOOK I--THE RAGE OF DISAPPOINTMENT + + + +CHAPTER I - PRECOCITY + + +“Brinnaria!” he said severely, “you will marry any 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 return gaze was +less incensed than puzzled. All his life he had been habituated to +subserviency, had never met opposition, and to find it from his youngest +daughter, and she a mere child, amazed him. As she faced him she +appeared both resolute and tremulous. He looked her up and down from +the bright blue velvety leather of her little shoes on which the gilt +sole-edges and gilt laces glittered to the red flower in her brown +hair. Inside her clinging red robe the soft outlines of her young +shape swelled plump and healthy, yet altogether she seemed to him but a +fragile creature. Resistance from her was incredible. + +Perhaps this was one more of her countless whims. While he considered +her meditatively he did not move his mighty arms or legs; the broad +crimson stripe down his tunic rose and fell slowly above his ample +paunch and vaster chest as his breath came evenly; on his short bull +neck his great bullet head was as moveless as if he had been one of the +painted statues that lined the walls all about. As the two regarded +each other they could hear the faint splash of the fountain in the tank +midway of the courtyard. + +Her father, a true Roman to his marrow, with all a Roman’s arbitrary +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 and hate him +worse than any young man I ever knew; I would not marry Calvaster if he +were the only man left alive. In the second place, because, if all the +men on earth were courting me at once, all rich and all fascinating +and Caius were poor and anything and everything else that he isn’t, I’d +marry nobody ever except Caius. 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 red through her +olive complexion, her eyes shining till tiny specks sparkled green and +yellow in the wide brown of her big irises. + +Her father’s jaw set. + +“I’ve listened to you, daughter,” he said. “Now you listen to me. I have +no objections to Almo; I rather like him. I have thought of marrying you +to him; if Segontius and I had not quarreled, we might have arranged +it. There is no possibility of it now. And just now, for some reason +or other, Pulfennius is keen on arranging a marriage between you and +Calvaster. His offers are too tempting to be rejected and the chance is +to good to be missed. Our properties adjoin not only here and at Baiae, +but also at Praeneste, at Grumentum and at Ceneta. With our estates so +marvellously paired the marriage seems divinely ordained when one comes +to think it over. Don’t be a fool. Anyhow, if you insist on making +trouble for yourself, it will do you 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 one alternative. Unless +you agree to obey me I shall go at once to the Pontifex and offer you +for a Vestal.” + +Every trace of apprehension vanished from Brinnaria’s expression. She +grinned saucily, almost impudently, at her father, and snapped her +fingers in his face. + +“You can’t scare me that way, Daddy!” she mocked him. “I know better +than that. There can be only six Vestals. You can offer, if you like, +but the Emperors themselves can’t take me for a Vestal while the six are +alive.” + +The laugh muffled in her throat; she was fairly daunted. Never had she +seen her father’s face so dark, so threatening. Not in all her life had +he so much as spoken harshly to her; she had been his pet since she had +begun to remember. But now, for one twinkling, she feared a blow from +him. She almost shrank back from 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 be in earnest. +You’re only fooling; you’re only trying to frighten me. You don’t really +mean it; oh, please, Daddy, say you don’t really mean it!” + +“I really mean it,” her father answered heavily. “I never meant anything +more genuinely in my life. You know my influence with the Emperors and +with the Pontifex of Vesta. You know that if I made the proposal they +would disregard any rival petitioners, would override all unnecessary +formalities, would have the matter despatched at once. Unless you obey +me you will be a Vestal before sunset to-morrow.” + +Brinnaria was now fairly quivering with terror. + +“Oh, Daddy!” she quivered, “you couldn’t be so cruel. I’d rather die +than have to be a Vestal. I couldn’t imagine any life so terrible. Oh, +Daddy, please say you are not in earnest.” + +He frowned. + +“I swear,” he said, “that I was never more in earnest. I say it +solemnly, as sure as my name is Marcus Brinnarius Epulo, I’ll have you +made a Vestal unless you agree this moment to give up all thoughts of +Almo, to obey me about marrying Calvaster, and to be properly polite to +him and Pulfennius.” + +“Daddy!” Brinnaria cried. “Only don’t have me made a Vestal and I’ll do +anything. I’ll forget there ever was an Almo. I’ll be sweet as honey +to Pulfennius till he loves me better than Secunda, 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,” he soothed +her, “and you are just in time. That may be your future husband and +father-in-law coming now.” + +In fact they were in a moment ushered in. Pulfennius was a tall man, +lean and loose-jointed, with straggling, greenish-gray hair; a long, +uneven head, broad at the skull and narrow at the chin; puffy, white +bags of flabby flesh under his eyes; irregular yellow teeth and sagging +cheeks that made his face look squarish. Calvaster was a mere boy, with +a leaden complexion, shifty gray eyes, thin lips, and an expression at +once sly and conceited. + +“You come opportunely,” said their host after the greetings had been +exchanged, “for you happen to find me alone with the very daughter of +whom you and I were talking. This is Brinnaria.” + +“This!” Pulfennius exclaimed. “This the girl we were talking about? +Impossible! Incredible! There must be some mistake.” + +“There is no mistake,” his host assured him. “This is the girl we were +talking about, this is Brinnaria.” + +The visitor regarded her, respectfully standing now, her brown eyes +down-cast, the flush faded from her olive-skinned cheeks, her arms +hanging limply at her sides. She was tall for a girl and while slenderly +built was well muscled, a fine handsome figure in her red robe. + +“This!” he exclaimed again. “Indeed. So this is Brinnaria. I am very +glad to have seen her. And now having seen her, do you not think that +our business would be better transacted by us three males together?” + +“Certainly, if you prefer,” Brinnarius asserted. + +He patted Brinnaria and kissed her. + +“Run away now, little girl,” he said, “and wait in the peristyle 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 even than her +father, a gigantic Goth, pink-skinned, blue-eyed and yellow-haired. + +“Now listen to me, Guntello,” his little mistress said, “for if you make +any mistake about my errand you’ll get me into no end of trouble.” + +The Goth, manifestly devoted to her, leaned his ear close and grinned +amiably. She repeated her directions twice and made him repeat them +after her in his broken Latin. When she was sure that he understood, she +despatched him with a whispered injunction: + +“Hurry! Hurry!” + +Meanwhile, in the gorgeous atrium, the fathers’ conference had +continued. The moment she had gone Pulfennius said: + +“I do not believe in discussing misunderstandings before females; +evidently there is some misunderstanding here. I want for my son a bride +younger than he is, even if he has to wait two or even four years to +claim her. You assured me that your daughter Brinnaria was not yet +ten years of age and you show me a grown woman and tell me that she is +Brinnaria. What is the explanation?” + +“A very simple explanation,” he was answered. “Merely that Brinnaria is +unusually well grown and well developed for her age. I have seen other +cases of early ripening in children and so must you.” + +“I’ve seen girls grown beyond their years,” Pulfennius admitted, “but no +case comparable to this. Why, man, that girl who has just left us would +be taken for over eighteen years old by any stranger at first sight +of her, and no one on earth could look at her carefully and hazard the +conjecture that she might possibly be under sixteen.” + +“Quite so,” his host agreed, “and the better you know Brinnaria the more +you wonder at her. She not only looks sixteen or eighteen and acts as if +she were that age, but she talks as if she were that old and thinks as +if she were even older, and she is actually three full months, more +than three months, to be precise three months and twelve days, under ten +years of age.” + +“Amazing!” spluttered Pulfennius, “astounding! inexplicable!” + +“Don’t you believe me?” Brinnarius queried sharply. + +“Certainly I believe you,” his guest disclaimed, “but I cannot realize +that it can be true; I am bewildered; I am dazed.” + +“Perhaps,” the other suggested, “you would realize it better if +Quartilla added her assurances to mine.” + +“Oh,” the other deprecated, “I do not require anybody’s corroboration 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-sized woman, neither +plump nor slender, with a complexion neither brown nor white, with +yellow-brown hair, gray-brown eyes, and in every outline, hue, and +feature as neutral and inconspicuous a creature as could be conceived +of. + +“Yes,” Quartilla said, “everybody is surprised at Brinnaria’s growth. +I was scared, when she first began to grow so fast, and had special +prayers offered and sacrifices made at the temples of Youth and +Health. Also I had a Babylonian seer consult the stars concerning her +birth-signs. Everybody said she was born to long life, good health and +great luck. But I can’t fancy what ever made her grow so. She was fed +like her brothers and sisters and she never seems to eat any heartier +or any oftener. Till she was two and a half she was just like any other +child. But she has grown more in seven years than any other child I ever +knew of ever grew in fourteen and she’s so old for her years too. Not +but that she plays with dolls and toys and jacks; and she runs about +just like any other child of her age, in spite of her size; but she says +such grown-up things and she has such a womanly mind. She understands +the family accounts better than I do, is keen on economy and could +oversee the providing for the entire household. She astonishes me over +and over. But there is no doubt about her age. Both my sisters were with +me when she was born and Nemestronia too. Ask any of the three. Or I can +tell you a dozen other ladies who know just as well. Brinnaria will not +be ten years old until the Ides of September.” + +“Wonderful! marvellous!” Pulfennius exclaimed. “Madam, you amaze me. But +if this is true so much the better. I had thought my boy must wait two +years or more for a wife, as I am determined that no more of my sons +shall marry wives of their own age, let alone 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 for her to grow up. We can arrange for the +wedding for this month.” + +They chaffered a long time about the marriage settlement, Calvaster +sitting silent, biting his lips, staring about him and fidgetting; +Quartilla equally silent, but entirely placid, without the twitch of a +muscle or any shift of gaze; the two men doing all the talking. Some of +the talking was almost vehement, Pulfennius disclaiming promises which +his host declared he had made. Once they came to a deadlock and then +Brinnarius, his voice suddenly mild and soft, mentioned Rabulla’s +death and his notion of offering Brinnaria for her successor. At once +Pulfennius became manageable and supple and all eagerness for the +happiness of the young couple. + +When it seemed that they had reached an agreement on every point +Quartilla had her say. + +“I think you will find Brinnaria everything you could wish as a +daughter-in-law. The most uncanny thing about her precocious habits +of thought is her tenacity of any resolve and her grave and earnest +attitude towards all questions of duty and propriety. She takes clan +traditions very seriously and is determined to comport herself according +to ancestral precedents. You will have no fault to find with her +respectfulness towards you and Herrania or with her behavior as a wife. +She will be circumspect in her deportment towards all men and is sure +to turn out an excellent housewife. She has lofty inherited standards to +live up to and she is deeply devoted to them. + +“This is the more to be wondered at since she is strangely undignified +in many ways. I trust this will wear off as she grows up. It is only in +this respect that Brinnaria has ever given me any cause for concern. +She is more like a boy than a girl in many ways. She not only plays with +boys and plays boys’ games and plays them as well as boys or better, +not only climbs trees when she is in the country, and rides bareback and +goes fishing and swimming in any stream or pool, and ranges the woods +and cannot be restrained; but also she will indulge in the wildest +pranks, the most unthinkable freaks, play rough practical jokes on +anybody and everybody, laugh out loud, shout and yell, gesticulate +and contort herself into undignified postures and act generally in an +uproarious and uncurbed fashion. She keeps up that sort of thing even in +town, and is boisterous and unexpected beyond anything I ever heard of +in any young girl She is most docile in all really important things, but +in respect to her jokings and shriekings and carryings-on she is really +beyond my control. She is never openly disobedient, yet she is most +ingenious at devising methods for avoiding obedience. Sometimes I lose +patience with Brinnaria. But, when I really think it all over, there +is no harm in any of it. Strangers, however, would think her a very +terrible girl; she belies herself so. Any one becoming cognizant of some +of her vagaries would form a very unfavorable judgment of her and most +unjustly. In her heart she is anything but the wild creature she makes +herself appear. Her squawks of merriment, her rude interruptions of +her elders, her pert remarks, her sarcastic jokes, are all the +manifestations of mere overflowing animal spirits, of warm-blooded youth +and hearty health. She will tone down. She is the most startling +and incalculable child I ever heard of. No one could anticipate her +eccentricities. There is an originality of invention about her pranks +which amazes me. But I am sure she will turn out all that I could wish.” + +“I trust so, indeed,” said Pulfennius dryly. “I am grateful to you +for warning me; I promise not to misjudge her because of any childish +freakishness. And now it seems to me that we should make the young +lady herself a party of this conference and bring the matter 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. He could barely control +his merriment, yet was plainly afraid to utter what he had to say. His +master ordered him to speak. + +“Instead of coming with me,” he said, “the young lady sent a message. +But I am afraid to give it to you. I am afraid of a thrashing if I give +the message as she gave it to me.” + +“Another of her jokes,” her father growled. “You shan’t suffer for +any of her impudence. Repeat her exact words; I’ll hold you excused, +Dastor.” + +Dastor, reassured, grinned with anticipated enjoyment and said: + +“She says she is sitting down and very comfortable where she is, that +she will not stand up till she feels inclined, and that if you want to +see her you can come to her, for she will not come to you.” + +For a moment there was a tense silence. + +Pulfennius spoke first. + +“If this is a sample of the sort of deportment which my future +daughter-in-law is expected to outgrow I might as well be shown just +what this kind of behavior is like. Let us acquiesce and go to the +little witch, if you do not object.” + + +“I don’t object at all to going,” his host replied, “but I object to her +behavior; I’ll make her smart for it. Come, let us have it over with; +I’ll show you a submissive Brinnaria or I’ll know the reason why.” + +They stood up and from the open atrium passed into a narrow passage +lighted only from the two ends and so into the larger courtyard with +gleaming marble columns at each end and long rows of them down each +side. The tank under the open sky was much larger than that in the +atrium and had two fountains in it. Pigeons cooed on the tiles of the +roofs, and two or three of them strutted on the mosaic pavement among +the columns. + +The party, dumbfounded and stunned, stood without voice or movement, +gazing at the picture before them. + +The pavement was a cool grayish white in effect, for its mosaic work was +all of pale neutral tints. Above it the background was all white,--white +marble walls, the white marble polished pillars of the peristyle, white +marble entablature above them, the general whiteness emphasized by the +mere streak of red tiled roof visible against the intense blue of the +sky. + +The only color in the picture was to the left of the tank and close +to it, where there had been set a big armchair upholstered in blue +tapestry. In it sat a tall, fair-haired, curly-headed lad, with merry +blue eyes. He wore a robe of pale green, the green of young onion tops. +Against that green the red of Brinnaria’s gown showed strident and +glary, for Brinnaria was sitting on his lap. His arms were round her +waist, hers about his neck. She was slowly swinging her blue-shod feet +rhythmically and was kissing the lad audibly and repeatedly. As her +elders stood still, petrified, mute and motionless with amazement, she +imprinted a loud smack on the lad’s lips, laid her cheek roguishly to +his and peered archly at them, saying: + +“Glad to see you again, Pulfennius; what do you think of me for a +daughter-in-law?” + +“I do not think of you for a daughter-in-law,” Pulfennius snarled +furiously. + +He turned angrily to Brinnarius. + +“What does this mean?” he queried. + +His host echoed him. + +“Brinnaria!” he called, imperatively. “What does this mean?” + +“Mean?” she repeated. “It means that I am making the most of Almo while +I can. I love Almo; I’ve promised to forget him, to be a good wife to +Calvaster, and of course I’m going to keep my word. From the moment I’m +married to Calvaster I’ll never so much as look at Almo, let alone touch +him. So I’m touching him all I can while I have the chance.” + +She paused, kissed Almo twice, lingeringly and loudly, and looked up +again. + +“How’s that for kissing, Calvaster?” she chirped. “Don’t you wish it was +you?” + +“Come, son!” Pulfennius spluttered, “let us be gone! This is no place +for us. We are being mocked and insulted.” + +“Nonsense, Pulfennius!” his host exclaimed. “Can’t you see that I had +no part in this, that the minx devised it all by herself expressly to +thwart me? Don’t let her have the satisfaction of outmanoeuvering both +of us. Don’t let a mere prank of a child spoil all our arrangements. +She’ll be a good wife as she says.” + +“A good wife!” Pulfennius snorted. “I much doubt whether she can now +ever be a good wife to any man. I’m sure she’ll never be a wife to my +son. You’d never convince me that she’s fit to be my son’s wife. +Make her a Vestal, indeed! She a Vestal? She’s much more likely to be +something very different!” + +“Do you mean to insinuate--” his host began. + +“I mean to insinuate anything and everything appropriate to her wanton +behavior,” Pulfennius raged. + +The two men glared at each other in a silence through which could +be heard the cooing of the doves, the trickle of the two fountains, +Brinnaria’s low chuckle and the faint lisping sound of three 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 changed your mind since you +forbade him to cross your threshold, so I came here at once to disclaim +any share in his intrusion and to take him home. I feared he might get +into mischief.” + +“He has,” Brinnarius replied, sententiously, “as you may see.” + +Brinnaria, entirely at her ease, hugged Almo rapturously and kissed him +repeatedly. + +“And I thought,” Segontius pursued, “that you would probably smash every +bone in his body if you caught him.” + +“I don’t know why I haven’t,” spoke the big man reflectively. + +“I know,” shouted Pulfennius, “I can tell you. It is because this whole +comedy has been rehearsed between you just to make me ridiculous. I know +your way, your malignity, your tenacity of a grudge, your pretence of +reconciliation, your ingenuity, your well-laid traps. I’ll be revenged +for this yet!” + +“You won’t live to be revenged,” Brinnarius told him, “unless you 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 you and I had +best forget our quarrels and be friends again? These young folks were +plainly meant for each other by all the gods who favor lovers. Let us +not stand in the way.” + +“Indeed, Lucius,” spoke the big man, holding out his huge hand. “I am +of the same mind. But both of them deserve some punishment for their +presumption. They should wait four years at least before they marry. My +girl is too young.” + +“I agree,” said Segontius, “and I’ll send my boy to Falerii for the +present. That will keep them apart and ensure propriety of behavior.” + +“That is well,” growled Brinnarius, “and I’ll send my girl to her aunt +Septima’s.” + +Brinnaria sprang up. + +“Aunt Septima’s?” she cried. “Spinach and mallows and a tiny roast lark +for dinner every day. I’ll starve to death And prim! I’d almost as lief +be a Vestal!” + + + +CHAPTER II - SIEVES + + +To her luxurious but austerely managed villa, Aunt Septima welcomed +Brinnaria with heartfelt, if repressed affection. Until the second +sunrise Brinnaria controlled herself. Then the good lady endured her +overgrown niece for some strenuous days, suffered impatiently for a few +more, but finally packed off to Rome “that unspeakable child.” At home +again Brinnaria demanded pork and cabbage. + +“My insides are as empty as the sky,” she wailed. “Asparagus is all very +well, but it’s none too filling, even if you can eat all you want, and +aunty says ten stalks is enough for any one meal. Chicken-breast is +good, hot or cold, but aunty would never let me have a second helping. +She wouldn’t even let me have as much 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 for cabbage, 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, prone to the +shortest cut to peace on all occasions, acquiesced at once and let her +go out with her one-eyed maid, Utta. + +Utta, born somewhere beyond the Rhine, had been brought to Rome when a +small child and had no memories except memories of Italy. She was the +most placid and acquiescent creature imaginable. Her little mistress +led her first of all to the nearest pastry-cook’s shop where the two ate +till they could not swallow another crumb. + +Brinnaria, like many eccentric children born to wealth and position, had +special favorites, almost cronies, among the lowly. Chief among them +was the old sieve-maker of the Via Sacra. To his shop she made Utta lead +her. Utta interposed no objection. Utta never objected to anything. +But in this case she was especially complaisant, since opposite the +sieve-maker’s was a fascinating embroidery shop, the keeper of which was +entirely willing, when he had no customers, to let Utta lounge on one of +his sofas and inspect embroideries to her heart’s content. So lounging, +rapt in the contemplation of Egyptian appliques, Syrian gold-thread +borders, Spanish linen-work, silk flower patterns from Cos, Parthian +animal designs and Celtic cord-labyrinths after originals in leather +thongs, Utta could glance up from time to time and make sure that her +charge was safe with the sieve-maker. + +Safe she would have been without any maid to watch her, for old +Truttidius adored her. He was a small, hale, merry, wizened man, his +seamed and wrinkled face brown as berry in spite of his lifelong habit +of indoor labor and comparative inertia. He had more than a little tact +and was an excellent listener. Brinnaria was entirely at ease with him. + +His shop was rather large for those days, nearly fifteen feet wide and +fully twenty deep. It faced directly on the street, from which it was +separated only by the stone counter which occupied all the front except +a narrow entrance at one side. Above the counter projected the heavy +shutters which closed the shop at night and which, being hinged at the +top, were by day pushed upward and outward so as to form a sort of pent +like a wooden substitute for an awning. The entrance by the end of the +counter was closed by a solid little gate. Behind the counter was the +low stool from which Truttidius rose to chaffer with customers, and +on which, when not occupied in trading, he sat at work, his bench and +brazier by his side, his tools hanging on the wall by his hand, orderly +in their neat racks or on their neat rows of hooks. Except for the +trifling wall-space which they occupied, the walls were hidden under +sieves hanging close together; bronze sieves, copper sieves, rush sieves +with rims of white willow wood, white horse-hair sieves whose hoops were +stout ash, sieves of black horse-hair stretched in rims of clean steamed +oak and linen sieves hooped about with birch. Sieves were piled on the +counter, mostly fancy sieves with hoops of carved wood strung with black +and white horse-hair interlaced in bold patterns, or copper sieves, +polished till they shone, they being most likely to catch the eyes of +the passing throng. + +Brinnaria, sprawled on the sofa against the wall behind the work-bench, +surveyed her surroundings and sighed happily, entirely at home. +Truttidius was beating copper wire, a process always 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 me to 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 was scared though.” + +“You didn’t want to be a Vestal?” Truttidius asked, eyeing her over his +work. + +“Not I!” Brinnaria declared. “I can’t think of anything worse except +being killed.” + +“Well,” mused Truttidius, “there is no accounting for tastes. Most girls +would be wild with delight at the idea. But there would be no sense in +being a Vestal unless you wanted to be one.” + +“I don’t,” Brinnaria proclaimed emphatically, “but I have been thinking +about Vestals ever since Daddy threatened me and scared me so; I’ve been +thinking about Vestals and sieves. Did anybody ever really carry water +in a sieve, Truttidius?” + +“Water in a sieve?” the old man exclaimed. “Not anybody that ever I saw. +What do you mean?” + +“You must have heard the story of Tuccia, the Vestal,” Brinnaria +wondered, wide-eyed. “She lived ages ago, before Hannibal invaded Italy, +when everything was different. They said she was bad and she said it was +a lie and they said she could not prove it was a lie and she said she +could. She said if she was all she ought to be the Goddess would show +it by answering her prayer. And she took a sieve and walked down to the +river, right by the end of the Sublician bridge, where the stairs are +on the right-hand side. And the five other Vestals, and the flamens, and +all the priests, and the Pontifex, and the consuls went with her. And +she stood on the lowest step with her toes in the water and prayed out +loud to the Goddess to help her and show that she had told the truth and +then she stooped over and dipped up water with her sacrificing ladle and +poured it into the sieve and it didn’t run through, and she dipped up +more and more until the sieve was half full of water, as if it had been +a pan. And then she hung her ladle at her girdle-hook and took the +sieve in both hands and carried the water all the way to the temple. And +everybody said that 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 a made-up +story or is it a true story?” + +“Little lady,” spoke Truttidius, “it is impious to doubt the truth of +pious stories handed down from days of old.” + +“That isn’t answering my question,” said the practical Brinnaria. “What +I want you to tell me is to say right out plain do you believe it. Did +anybody really ever carry water in a sieve?” + +“You must remember, dear little lady,” the sieve-maker said, “that she +was a most holy priestess, most pleasing in the eyes of her Goddess, +that she was in dire straits and that she prayed to the Goddess to aid +her. The Goddess helped her votary; the gods can do all things.” + +“The gods can do all things,” Brinnaria echoed, her eyes flashing, “but +the gods don’t do all things, not even for their favorites. There are +lots and lots of things no god ever did for any votary or ever will. +What I want to know is this: Is carrying water in a sieve one of the +things the gods not only can do but do do? Did anybody ever carry water +in a sieve truly?” + +Truttidius smiled, his wrinkles doubling and quadrupling till his face +was all a network of tiny folds of hard, dry skin. He put down his work +and regarded his guest, his face serious after the fading of his brief +smile. The soft-footed sandalled throng that packed the narrow street +shuffled and padded by unnoticed. No customer interrupted them. They +might have been alone in a Sibyl’s cell on a mountain side. + +“Little lady,” spoke the sieve-maker, “you are, indeed, very old for +your age, not only in height and build, but in heart and mind. What +other child would bother her head about so subtle a problem? What other +child would perceive the verity at the heart of the puzzle and put it so +neatly in so few words? To you an old man cannot help talking as to an +experienced matron, because to you an old man can talk as to a woman of +sense. You deserve to be answered in the spirit of the question.” + +He reflected. Brinnaria, fascinated and curious, hardly breathed in her +intentness, watching his face and waiting for his answer. + +“Little lady,” he said, after a long silence, “the gods can, indeed, do +all things. But as you have yourself perceived the gods do not do all +things, even for their favorites. The gods work miracles to vindicate +their votaries, but as you divine, each miracle is the happening by the +special ordinance of the gods of what might happen even without their +mandate, but which does not happen because it is only once in countless +ages that all the circumstances necessary to bring about that sort of +happening concur to produce so unusual an effect. What folks call a +miracle is the occurrence, by the beneficent will of heaven, at just +the right time and place, of what might happen anywhere to any one, but +almost never does happen anywhere to any one, because it is so unlikely +that all things should conspire to bring about so unlikely a result. + +“So of carrying water in a sieve. + +“Anybody might carry water in a sieve any day. But very seldom, oh, +very, very seldom can it come to pass that the kind of person capable +of carrying water in a sieve can be just in the condition of muscle and +mood to do so and can at just that moment be in possession of just the +kind of sieve that will hold water and not let it through. For an actual +breathing woman of flesh and blood to carry water in a real ordinary +sieve of rush-fibres, or linen thread or horsehair or metal wire, in +such a sieve as pastry-cooks use to sift their finest flour; for that to +happen in broad daylight under the open sky before a crowd of onlookers, +that requires the special intervention of the blessed gods, or of the +most powerful of them. And not even all of them together could make +that happen to a woman of ordinary quality of hand and eye, with a usual +sieve, as most sieves are.” + +“Explain!” Brinnaria half whispered, “what kind of woman could actually +carry water in a sieve and in what kind of a sieve, and under what +circumstances?” + +“That’s three questions,” Truttidius counted, “and one at a time is +enough. + +“In the first place, no god, not all the gods together, could give +any votary power to carry water in a sieve, be it rush or linen or +horse-hair or metal, of which the meshes had been first scrubbed with +natron or embalmers’ salt or wood-ashes or fullers’ earth. Water +would run through such a sieve, did even all the gods will that it be +retained. No one ever dipped a sieve into water and brought it up with +water in it and saw that water retained by the meshes. Once wet the +under side of a sieve and water will run through to the last drop. + +“But if a sieve were ever so little greasy or oily, not dripping with +oil or clogged with grease, but greasy as a working slave’s finger is +greasy on a hot day; if such a sieve were free of any drop of water +on the underside, if into such a sieve water were slowly and carefully +poured, as you say that Tuccia in the story ladled water into her sieve +with her libation-dipper, then that water might spread evenly over the +meshes to the rim all around, might deepen till it was as deep as the +width of two fingers or of three, and might be retained by the meshes +even for an hour, even while the sieve was carried over a rough road, up +hill and down, through crowded streets. + +“But few are the women who could so carry a sieve of water or could even +so hold it that the water would not run through at once.” + +“How could the water be retained at all?” queried Brinnaria the +practical. “What is the explanation?” + +Truttidius wrinkled up his face in deep thought. + +“You have seen wine spilled at dinner,” he illustrated. “You have 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 fabric and remain +there awhile without soaking in, its surface shining wet and its edges +gleaming round and smooth and curved, bright as a star. Well, the +retaining of water in a sieve by the open meshes is like the momentary +holding up of spilt wine on a woven fabric. I can’t explain any better, +but the two happenings are similar, only the not soaking in of the +splashed liquid is far, oh, far more frequent, countless, uncountable +times more frequent, than the sustaining of fluid in a sieve. But as the +one can 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 a +grandmother 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 miracle to happen, +in fact, the sieve must be held as level as the top rail of a mason’s +T-shaped plumb-line frame, and as steady as if clamped in a vise. For +a woman to carry water in a sieve the weather must be dry, for in damp +weather the water would run through the meshes, even if the threads or +wires were just oily enough and not too oily, even if the meshes were +just the right size to favor the forming in each mesh of a little pocket +of water underneath, like the edges of the upstanding drop of wine on a +sofa-cushion. I don’t know how it comes to pass, but somehow, if all the +conditions are right, little bags of water form on the underside of a +sieve, one to each mesh, like drops after a rain hanging from the edge +of my shop-shutters, or from the mutules on the cornice of a temple. +They are capable of sustaining one or even two finger-thicknesses +of water on the upper side of the sieve-web. But if the sieve-web +is unevenly woven or unevenly stretched, it will not retain water an +instant, and if the sieve-web bags anywhere the water, even if the rest +of the sieve-web promises to retain it, will run through at that point. +And even if the sieve is perfect, the slightest tilt, the very slightest +tilt, will cause the little bags of water to break at the lowest point, +and so start all the water to running through. I know; I have tried; +I have seen the sieve hold up the water for some breaths. But for the +marvel to last any length of time, that would require the intervention +of the gods; that would be a miracle. For a woman to hold a sieve so +that it would retain water would mean that her hand was as steady as the +hand of a sleep-walker or of the priestess of Isis in her trance in the +great yearly mystery-festival. That could happen seldom to any woman; +such a woman would be rare.” + +“I see,” Brinnaria barely whispered, so intent was she on the old man’s +words. “Now, what kind of woman could do such a wonder?” + +“A very exceptional and unusual kind of woman,” the old man declared. +“Women, the run of them, are not steady-handed. Even steady-handed women +are easily distracted, their attention is readily called away from any +definite task. Even a woman usually steady-handed would find her hand +tremble if she were conscious of guilt, even a woman high-hearted with +her sense of her own worthiness might glance aside at some one in a +great crowd of people about her, might let her thoughts wander. + +“That is where the miracle would come in. Only a woman directly favored +by the mighty gods could so ignore the throng about her, could so forget +herself, could so concentrate all her faculties on the receptacle she +held, could so perfectly control her muscles or could so completely let +her muscles act undisturbed by her will, could possess muscles capable +of so long tension at so perfect an adjustment.” + +“I see,” Brinnaria sighed. “The thing may have happened in fact, +may happen again, but it could happen only once out of ten times ten +thousand times ten thousand chances. I understand. It is a possibility +in the ordinary course of events. It was a miracle if it ever took +place; it will be a miracle if it ever comes to pass again. It is not +impossible, but it’s too improbable 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 and quit +bothering me. I’ve thought about it day and night ever since Daddy +threatened me. Now I’ll forget it and sleep sound.” + + + +CHAPTER III - STUTTERING + + +When Brinnaria returned from her outing she found waiting for her her +best friend, chum and crony, Flexinna, a girl four years older, not so +tall, decidedly more slender and much prettier. Brinnaria was robustly +handsome; Flexinna was delicately lovely, yet they did not differ much +in tints of hair, eyes or skin and might have been sisters. In fact, +they were not infrequently taken for sisters. + +They chatted of their girlish interests and of local gossip and family +news, like any pair of girls, until Brinnaria described 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 a c-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! I can’t think +of anything, except death, that would fill me with more horror than the +very idea of being made a Vestal. It makes me shiver now just to speak +of it.” + +“You’re a f-f-fool,” Flexinna declared, “the f-f-foolest kind of a +f-f-fool. This is the f-f-first f-f-foolish thing I ever knew 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 a V-V-Vestal. I’ve n-n-no +p-p-patience with you. Any other g-g-girl would j-j-jump at the +ch-ch-chance.” + +“Jump at it!” cried Brinnaria. “Why?” + +“Why?” sneered Flexinna, blazing with excitement. “Why, just think 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-race in 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 the circus, front seats in the amphitheatre, all your +life, or for thirty years at least, for certain! And you’ve m-m-missed +it. And that’s not half. Your lictor to c-c-clear the way for you +whenever you g-g-go out and your choice to g-g-go out in your litter +with eight b-b-bearers or in your c-c-carriage, your own c-c-carriage, +all your own, and the right to d-d-drive any where in 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 a level 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-dizzy to think of it, and you throw away the +ch-ch-chance! To be able the m-m-moment you were taken, to m-m-make your +own w-w-will! To have 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 +for your n-n-notice all your 1-l-life 1-1-long, and you m-m-miss the +ch-ch-chance!” + +“Yes,” Brinnaria admitted, reflectively, “I have missed all that, that’s +so. But that’s not all there is to think of, when you think about being +a Vestal. I’ve missed a lot of fine privileges, mighty valuable to any +girl that would care for that sort of thing; but I’ve escaped a lot +of things that would go with those privileges. I love bright colors, +I always did and I look ghastly in white--I look like a ghost. And I’d +have had to wear white and nothing else, even white flowers, like a +corpse. And a Vestal has to keep her eyes on the ground and walk slow +and stately and stand straight and dignified, and talk soft and low. I’d +suffer, even if I could learn all the tricks they teach them as well as +Gargilia has. And I don’t believe I ever could. 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, like the gander squawking under the feet of the +pall-bearers at poor old Gibba’s funeral at the farm last summer, and +I’d wink at the head Vestal or roll my eyes at the whole congregation +and spoil the prayers; or, after keeping meek and mum for a year or so +I’d be so wild to laugh that I’d roar right out and break up the whole +service. I think I’m the last girl alive to be a Vestal. A Vestal +mustn’t answer back or make a pun, no matter how good a chance 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 I trained myself to keep still and +look as mild as a lamb, I’d be boiling inside and sometime I’d burst out +with a yell just to relieve my feelings or I’d jab a shawl-pin into the +Pontifex to see him jump, or put out my toe and trip up somebody just +to see him sprawl. I couldn’t help it. The more I’d bottle myself up +the farther the naughtiness in me would spurt when it burst through the +skin. I know. No Vestaling for me! I wasn’t born for that trade!” + +“Nonsense!” Flexinna disclaimed vigorously. “You’d g-g-get used 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 just raging inside at your f-f-folly. To +have the right to an interview with the Emperor whenever you d-d-demand +it, to see the m-m-magistrates’ lictors lower their fasces to you and +s-s-stand aside 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-palaces in +Rome, one of the most m-m-magnificent residences on earth, to have 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 much to be +said on the other side. I’ve been in the Atrium. Aunt Septima took me +there to call on Causidiena. It’s big, it’s gorgeous, it’s luxurious, +that’s all true. But I love sunlight. I’d loathe living in that hole +in the ground; why, the shadow of the Palace falls across the courtyard +before noon and for all the rest of the day it’s gloomy as the bottom +of a well. I heard Causidiena tell Aunt Septima how shoes mould and +embroideries mildew and what a time they have with the inlays popping +off the furniture on account of the dampness and about the walls and +lamp-standards sweating moisture. I’d hate the dark, poky, cold place.” + +“Oh,” Flexinna admitted, “there are d-d-drawbacks to any s-s-situation +in life, but, really the higher the s-s-station the fewer the drawbacks. +The p-p-plain truth is that being a Vestal is 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 any g-g-girl d-d-dreams of it she k-k-keeps her +d-d-dreams to herself. 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-father +and m-m-mother noble and alive. You’ve got all that and you are offered +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 Almo and I’d have +to give up Almo.” + +“Not f-f-forever,” Flexinna retorted. “He’s enough in love with you to +wait for you, to wait for you! You could have pledged him to wait till +your term of service was up and then you two could have married just the +same.” + +“Just the same!” Brinnaria echoed. “A lot of good it’d do me to marry +after I’d be an old wrinkled, gray-haired woman of forty, dried up and +withered.” + +“Nemestronia,” Flexinna cited, “has married twice since she was +forty, and she’s not withered yet, not by a great deal, even if she is +gray-haired and has a wrinkle or two.” + +“What’s the use of arguing,” Brinnaria summed up. “I hate the very idea +of being a Vestal. I’d hate the fact a million times more. I’d hate it +even if I were not in love with Almo, furiously in love with Almo. Daddy +says I’ve got to wait four years to marry him. I roll around in bed and +bite the pillows with rage to think of it, night after night. A fine +figure I’d cut trying to wait thirty years for him. I’d swoon with +longing for him and write him a note or peep out of the temple to +see him go by and then I’d get accused of misbehavior, and accused is +convicted for a Vestal; well, you know it. I’d look fine being buried +alive in a seven-by-five underground stone cell, with half a pint of +milk and a gill of wine to keep me alive long enough to suffer before +I starved to death and a thimbleful of oil in a lamp to make me more +scared of the dark when the lamp burned out. No burial alive for 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 I escaped; the chance isn’t +missed for that matter. Rabulla’s place hasn’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 as much as +that detestable ninny. I’ve a mind to chuck Almo and ask Daddy 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 talking nonsense? What +would be the sense in my spoiling my life to spite Meffia? I hate her. +I’ll hate to see her putting on airs as a Vestal, but I’d hate worse to +be a Vestal myself, and worst of all to lose Almo. I just couldn’t give +up Almo.” + +“I wish I were you,” Flexinna raged. “If I were only under ten and +d-d-didn’t s-s-stutter, I’d d-d-do all I c-c-could to g-g-get D-D-Daddy +to offer m-m-me.” + +“Bosh!” Brinnaria sneered. “You’re in love with Vocco and you know you +wouldn’t even think of giving him up if you had the chance.” + +“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 poor Quintus hard and +never regret him. Not I. Think of the influence a V-V-Vestal has! Every +man who wants p-p-promotion in the army or in the fleet, or who wants +an appointment to any office would set his sisters and all his +women relations to besieging me to use my influence for him. Every +temple-carver and shrine-painter in Rome would have his wife showing me +attentions. I know; I’ve heard the talk. + +“And b-b-besides, in all the Empire a Vestal is the nearest thing to +a p-p-princess we have. We read a lot about Egyptian princesses, and +Asiatic princesses and we hear about P-P-Parthian p-p-princesses, but +the only p-p-princesses we ever see are the Vestals. They are the only +p-p-princesses in the Empire, in Italy, in Rome, the six of them. And +you had a chance to be one of the only six p-p-princesses in our world +and you didn’t take it. Oh, you f-f-fool, you f-f-fool!” + +They wrangled about their conflicting views for a long time. + +It was only as Flexinna was leaving that she inquired casually: + +“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.” + + + +CHAPTER IV - PESTILENCE + + +Pestilence! + +Brinnaria heard the word often during the next few days. Rome talked of +little else. It had begun with a few deaths along the river front in +the sailors’ quarters, and among the stevedores and porters of the +grain-warehouses, southwest of the Aventine Hill in the thirteenth ward. +Next it came to notice when there were many deaths along the Subura in +the very centre of the city. From there the infection had spread to +every wind. Panic seized the people. There was an exodus of all who +could afford it, to their country estates, to the mountains, to the +seaside. Brinnarius and Quartilla discussed arrangements for their +departure to his mountain farm in the Sabine hills above Carsioli. Their +difficulty was to decide to whom to commit their great house in Rome. +They had no slave whom they implicitly trusted, and no one certainly who +would be willing to stay in the city. To close the house was to +invite burglary, for in the general panic watchmen were unreliable and +house-breakings were frequent. Into their consultation Brinnaria thrust +herself uninvited. + +“Why don’t you leave me in town?” she suggested. “I hate the country and +I hate it near Carsioli worse than any neighborhood I ever saw. I want +to stay right here. I love Rome. And I’m not afraid of pestilence. +Nobody can die more than once and nobody dies till the gods will it. +There’s more danger of dying of fright and worry than of pestilence. +Anyhow a pestilence never kills all the people in a city, most of the +towns- folk stay right at home and keep alive all right. Half the people +that die scare or fret themselves to death. I won’t fret or worry and +I’ll keep well here; but if you take me with you I’ll be miserable and +chafe myself ill. I can run the house as well as mother can. Most of the +slaves worship me and will obey me for love, the rest are deadly afraid +of me and will not dare to disobey me. I’ll keep order and I will not +waste a sesterce. Can’t I stay, Father?” + +Brinnarius knit his brows and looked at his wife. Her eyes answered his. + +“It would save a deal of trouble,” he said, reflectively. + +“It would make a deal of gossip,” Quartilla declared. “All my enemies +would say that I am an unnatural mother, that I do not love my youngest +child, that I hate her, that I am exposing her to certain death, that I +am as bad as a murderess.” + +“Nonsense!” her husband retorted. “We can’t bother about all the malice +of all the slanderers in Rome. Other people’s daughters are remaining. +Lucconius means to stay here in Rome with his family. If he ventures to +keep Flexinna here we might venture to leave Brinnaria behind.” + +“You might,” that self-assertive child cut in, “and you know there is +really no use in taking me if I do not want to go. You know how much +trouble it will make for both of you.” + +Quartilla sighed. + +“Perhaps we had best leave her,” she said. “Certainly the house will be +safe and the slaves kept in order. I shan’t have an instant’s anxiety +about that. Then Brinnaria is so genuinely brave that she will really +not dread the pestilence, and all the doctors say that there is nothing +like that feeling to protect any 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 yet that you may +stay. But if I say so, then you must stay. I’ll not have you changing +your mind and deciding to leave Rome after we have arranged to put you +in charge here. It would make trouble indeed to have you shutting up +this house in a hurry and chasing after us to Carsioli.” + +“Epulo!” his wife reproached him, “the child has her faults, but +changeableness is not one of them. She is the most resolute child I ever +knew. If you leave her, she will not fail us. If she gives her word +she will keep it. I never knew Brinnaria to break an 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, by my hopes of +marrying Almo, that I’ll stick it out here in Rome, going out only when +necessary, unless you send for me to come away. If anything happens that +makes me think I ought to leave the city I shall send a message to you, +but I shall not cross the city boundaries nor relax my watch on this +house without your permission. I swear.” + +“That’s enough, dearie,” her father said, “enough and too much. If +your judgment tells you that you ought to flee from Rome, you have my +permission to send me a messenger; I know you will not resort to that +without real need. I rely on your judgment. The gods be with you, child. +You have taken a load of my shoulders, two loads, in fact.” + +Thereupon preparations for departure were pushed and soon after sunrise +on the next day Brinnaria found herself left to her own resources, +responsible for the welfare of a large retinue of obsequious slaves, +autocrat over them, and mistress of one of the largest private houses +in Rome. She acquitted herself well of her duties. She had been right +in claiming that she was loved by most and feared by the rest. Certainly +she was trusted and respected by all as if she had been five times her +age. She made them as comfortable as town-slaves could be and they knew +it. To her they accorded instant and implicit obedience. The life of the +household went on as smoothly as if the master had been at home. And its +life was not gloomy. Although the main subject of conversation was the +pestilence, open forebodings were not indulged 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 no member of either +household had shown the slightest symptoms of any kind of illness. Of +the daily deaths among their large acquaintance or among the nobilities +of the city, they talked calmly, without any feeling of gloom or of +dread, secure in the confidence of youth and health. + +On the tenth day after Brinnaria had been left to her own devices +Flexinna visited her as usual. Early in their talk she said: + +“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,” Flexinna replied. “She +had been Chief Vestal ever since C-C-Calpurnia P-P-Praetextata died, and +that’s fifty- six years ago. She had been Chief Vestal longer than any +ever and she had lived longer than any Vestal ever.” + +“Well,” said Brinnaria, the practical, “she ought to have been glad 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 so healthy 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 her big chair like a great white +b-b-butterfly, so plump and handsome and soft-looking. She always +put out her hand to my face and recognized me at the first t-t-touch, +almost, and gave me her blessing so b-b-beautifully. Sometimes Manlia +let me read to the old dear, and she always seemed to enjoy it so much. +I’m real shaken at her d-d-death. I really loved her.” + +“Everybody loved her,” Brinnaria declared. “But everybody loves +Causidiena too, and she’s Chief Vestal now. She’s not fat and placid +like Dossonia, but she is wonderfully dignified. My, I admire 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 that unspeakable little muff of a +Meffia. I hate that girl.” + +“Whoever she is,” Flexinna continued, “she is sure to be chosen and +taken mighty quick. For with this p-p-pestilence in the city, and all +the trouble the P-P-Parthians are making in the East, of the Marcomanni +on the Rhine colonies, and the thunder-storms that have raged about +lately, there’ll be need felt for all the p-p-prayers all the offer. +They’ll not leave the vacancy open 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 an observance of all ritual matters and the Emperors are with +him.” + +“Marcus is,” Brinnaria agreed, pertly, “but Lucius doesn’t care what +happens so long as he has his fun.” + +“You mustn’t t-t-t-talk that way about the Emperors,” Flexinna cautioned +her. “If you were overheard you’d get into no end of trouble. Anyhow, +Verus defers to Aurelius in everything, so that whatever Aurelius wishes +is as if both wished it. And there never was a more p-p-pious Emperor +than Aurelius. So the place is certain to be filled p-p-promptly.” + +“At once, for sure,” Brinnaria agreed. “I wonder who the victim will be? +Do you suppose it will be Occurnea?” + +“It would have been Occurnea, I think,” Flexinna said. “You know it was +a chance for a while whether she’d get it instead of Meffia. But she’s +not eligible now. Her mother d-d-died yesterday.” + +“Tallentia, perhaps,” Brinnaria hazarded. + +“Impossible,” Flexinna declared. “You remember how recklessly she rode +and how her horse f-f-fell on her. She has limped ever since and always +will.” + +“Cuppiena?” suggested Brinnaria. + +“Not she,” said Flexinna; “she has some k-k-kind of skin rash and has +lost almost all her hair.” + +“Sabbia,” Brinnaria proposed. + +“Her mother’s d-d-dead too,” Flexinna reminded her; “has been for +months.” + +“Fremnia,” came the next suggestion. + +“She’s off to Aquileia with her family,” said Flexinna; “they all left +the d-d-day your folks went.” + +“Eppia,” ventured Brinnaria. + +“She’s ten years old now,” Flexinna demurred. “She celebrated her +b-b-birthday three days before the Kalends. I was at the party.” + +“Pennasia, perhaps,” Brinnaria suggested. + +“D-d-deaf in one ear like her mother and grandmother,” said Flexinna, +“and you know it.” + +“Licinia,” Brinnaria ventured. + +“She’d be the last they’d choose on account of the b-b-bad luck Vestals +of her family have had;” Flexinna reminded her. “The very 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,” Flexinna proclaimed. + +“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; might as well +be out of the world.” + +Brinnaria was at a loss. She meditated. “Gavinna!” she said at last. + +“She has a bad squint and you know it,” laughed Flexinna. “Why don’t you +think of an eligible c-c-candidate?” + +They tried a dozen more names, all of girls out of the city or defective +in some way, or with one parent dead. + +“But who will it be?” Brinnaria wondered. “It’s bound to be somebody and +quick.” + +She jumped to her feet. + +She screamed. + +“They’ll take me! They’ll take me! Oh, what am I to do, what am I to do? +I’m the only possible candidate in the city. And they’ll be after me the +moment they run over the lists and find no one else is in town.” + +She stood a moment, considering, then she called Guntello, and a +lean Caledonian slave called Intinco. She gave them each a written +journey-order to show to any patrol that questioned them, told Guntello +to take the best horse in the stable and to give the next best to +Intinco, bade Intinco ride to Carsioli and Guntello to Falerii, gave +Guntello a letter for Almo and Intinco a letter to her father and told +them verbally, in case the letter was lost, to make it plain that +she was in danger of being taken for a Vestal and bid her father come +quickly to interfere and her lover to ride fast to claim her in time. +She enjoined both slaves to spur their horses, gave them money in case +they needed to hire fresh mounts and wound up: + +“Kill Rhaebus, kill Xanthus, kill as many hired horses as need be, ride +without halt or mercy. Get there and get father and Almo here. Be quick. +You can’t be too quick.” + +She watched them ride off at a sedate walk, for no man was allowed to +trot a horse in the streets of Rome. Both had assured her that they +would ride at full gallop from the moment they passed the gates. + +Then began for Brinnaria a tense and anxious period of waiting. Flexinna +obtained her parents’ permission and remained with her friend. The +entire household continued in good health and there was nothing to +distract t he two from their dread on the one hand that the Pontifex +might come to claim Brinnaria before Almo and her father arrived, and +their hope on the other hand of seeing them come in time. + +On the whole the strain told on Flexinna more than on Brinnaria, who +never once shed a tear, attended to her housewifely 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 waiting here +inertly for Faltonius to come and claim me. Instead of dispatching +messengers for your father and Almo, you ought to have left the city at +once and made your best speed for Carsioli yourself.” + +“I couldn’t,” Brinnaria declared, “and you know why. I passed my word to +stay in this house and not so much as to go out unless some compelling +necessity arose. I pledged myself not to leave here unless I sent a +messenger saying I needed to leave and received permission before I +started. I took my oath not to cross the city limits without Father’s +consent. I can’t break my oath and I shouldn’t break my word, even if I +hadn’t sworn in addition to promising.” + +“You f-f-fool!” Flexinna declared. + +“All members of our clan keep their word,” said Brinnaria proudly. “We +do not ask whether it is advantageous to keep our word or pleasant; +when we have passed our word we keep it. I’ve given my word and there’s +nothing to do but to wait for Almo and Daddy and hope that both, or at +least a message from Daddy will get here before Faltonius.” + +“There is something else you might do,” Flexinna suggested. “You might +easily arrange to be ineligible before Bambilio comes for you.” + +“I shall,” spoke the matter-of-fact Brinnaria. “The moment Daddy and +Almo come, I’ll be Alma’s wife in less time than it takes to tell it and +will be able to snap my fingers at Bambilio.” + +“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 your father.” + +“I’ve thought of that,” Brinnaria admitted. “But I’d hate to break the +record of which our family is so proud. None of our women ever were so +much as accused of any misbehavior before marriage.” + +“I’ve no p-p-patience with you,” Flexinna raged. “You’ll throw away +your life for a mere scruple. You risk being made a Vestal every moment. +Faltonius may be on the way here now. If I were in your place I’d make +sure. I’d not wait for Almo. Any lad would do for me. You c-c-could make +sure, if you had sense. Almo would forgive 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 such dishonor +to forgive. No man of our clan ever had reason to be ashamed of his +daughter or of his sister. I’ll not be the first to disgrace the clan. +If Faltonius comes he’ll find me as eligible as the hour I was born, +unless Daddy and Almo come in time for me to be married first.” + +“At least,” Flexinna persisted, “you might say no when he asks you. That +would stall the whole ceremony and give you t-t-time.” + +“Do you suppose,” Brinnaria sneered, “that I haven’t thought of that? +I’m tempted, of course. But that would be to advertise myself a disgrace +to the Pontifex during a solemn interrogatory.” + +“At least,” Flexinna pleaded, “you might say you are over age. You look +sixteen to anybody, and no one would imagine you are under fourteen. You +could halt the proceedings, at least, and gain t-t-time.” + +“Faltonius has the lists,” said Brinnaria wearily, “with all the +birthdays sworn to by both parents for every girl on them and attested +by four excellent witnesses, besides. He’d know I was lying and it would +do me no good.” + +Flexinna changed the subject. + +But when the next day dawned and neither Brinnarius nor Almo appeared, +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 each street corner, right and left +of the house-door, and had them look out for what she hoped and what she +feared. + +Dastor brought word that the Pontifex and his retinue were approaching; +three litters, each with eight bearers, preceded by the lictor of the +Chief Vestal. + +Brinnaria, pale and tense, did her best to look collected and +controlled. She succeeded well, heard calmly the announcement of her +august visitors, ordered them shown into the atrium, and received them +with proper dignity. Her self-possession did not desert her when she +recognized in the train of the Pontifex her rejected suitor Calvaster, +sly, malignant and with an air of suppressed elation. + +Faltonius Bambilio, the Pontifex of Vesta, was a pursy, pudgy, pompous +old man, immensely self-important, almost ridiculous in his fussiness, +but clothed with a certain impressiveness by the mere fact of his +religious office. He gazed about him, stared at Brinnaria, hemmed and +hawed and threw himself into poses intended to be stately. + +With him was Causidiena, now Chief Vestal, a tall, spare woman of about +forty-five, her austere face kindly and reassuring, her dark hair barely +showing under her official head-dress, a statuesque figure in her white +robes of office. + +“My daughter,” spoke Faltonius to Brinnaria, “Rome has but five Vestals. +I have come to take you into the vacant place. You have been chosen, as +best suited to this high dignity, from among those 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 a whisper. + +“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 of speech, any +difficulty of hearing?” + +Brinnaria’s awe was wearing off, and the irritating pomposity of +Faltonius was producing its usual effect of arousing antagonism, as it +generally did in those he talked to. Brinnaria felt all her wild self +surge up in her. + +“I’m sound as a two-year-old racing filly,” she replied. “I’m clean as +fresh curd; I hear you perfectly and you can hear me perfectly.” + +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 my answer to +those questions. If you don’t like it I don’t care a shred of bran.” + +“Come! come!” fussed Bambilio, “answer the interrogatories properly.” + +“I have and I shall,” Brinnaria maintained mutinously. + +“Are you fit in mind and in faculties to be a Vestal?” he continued. + +“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 his victim. + +“Are your parents both alive?” he asked. + +“They were the last time I heard of them,” spoke Brinnaria flippantly. + +“When was that?” he insisted. + +“This is the twelfth day since they left Rome,” said Brinnaria, “and +I’ve not heard from them since they sent a messenger back from the ninth +milestone on the road to Tibur.” + +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 that they are both +alive.” + +“Find out,” snapped Brinnaria. + +Up spoke young Calvaster, his pasty face alight with a sort of malicious +glee. + +“I passed Quartilla’s travelling carriage at Varia last night. Quartilla +was alive and well. I passed Brinnarius this morning at dawn, this side +of Tibur. He was alive then and puffing.” + +“How did you get here ahead of him?” Brinnaria interjected. + +“I am light built,” Calvaster explained with obvious relish, “and I rode +the best horse in Italy. His mount labored heavily under his load.” + +“Both parents are then alive,” spoke Faltonius. “I hereupon and hereby +pronounce you in all respects fit to be taken as a Vestal. 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 sense of +patriotism? Do you not realize your duty to your country, to the Roman +people, to Rome, to the Emperor, to all of us, to the commonwealth? Do +you not realize Rome’s need of you? Shall it be said that Rome has need +of one of her daughters and that her unnatural child refuses?” + +“I have not refused,” said Brinnaria. “I only said I was unwilling.” + +“It is the same thing,” declared the bewildered ecclesiastic. + +“Not a bit the same thing,” Brinnaria disclaimed. “I know my duty in +this matter perfectly. Castor be good to me, I know it too well. I +know that a refusal would avail me nothing, if I did refuse. I have not +refused. I would not, even if I could escape by refusal I realize my +duty. If I am taken I shall be all that a Vestal is expected to be, all +that she must be to ensure the glory and prosperity and safety of the +city and the Empire. I shall not fail the Emperor nor the Roman people, +nor Rome. But I am unwilling, and I said so. Little good it will do me. +But I am no liar, not even in the tightest place.” + +“Stand up, my daughter,” said Faltonius, rising himself, suddenly +clothed in dignity, a really impressive figure, in spite of his globular +proportions. + +Brinnaria stood, her eyes on the door to the vestibule, her face very +pale, trembling a little, but controlled. + +The Pontifex took her hand and spoke: + +“As priestess of Vesta, to perform those rites which it is fitting that +a priestess of Vesta perform for the Roman People and the citizens, as a +girl who has been chosen properly, so I take you, Beloved.” + +At the word “Beloved,” which made her irretrievably a Vestal, Brinnaria +could not repress a little gasp. Her eyes no longer watched the +vestibule door. She looked at the Pontiff. He let go her hand. + +“You will now go with your servitor to be clothed as befits your +calling.” + +He indicated one of Causidiena’s attendants, a solidly built woman, +like a Tuscan villager, who carried over her arm a mass of fresh white +garments and robes. + +With her and Causidiena Brinnaria left the atrium; with them she +presently returned, a slim white figure, her hair braided and the six +braids wound round her forehead like a coronet, above them 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 of Vesta,” spoke +the Pontiff. + +“And remember,” he continued sternly, “that you are now a Vestal and +that young Vestals may not speak unless spoken to.” + +Brinnaria bit her lip. + +At that moment they heard hoofs and voices outside, the door burst 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 your daughter; you don’t count as +my father; I’m daughter to the Pontifex from now on. I’m a Vestal.” + +She was trembling, but she kept her countenance. Brinnarius uttered no +sound, the whole gathering was still and mute, the noises of the street +outside were plainly audible. They heard horse-hoofs again, again the +door flew open wide. In burst Almo, wide-eyed and panting. + +At him Brinnaria launched a sort of shriek of expostulation. + +“Why couldn’t you ride! You call yourself a horseman! And you’ve come +too late! I mustn’t even kiss you good-bye. And I mustn’t speak to you, +I mustn’t see you, I mustn’t so much as think of you for thirty years, +for thirty years, _for thirty years_!” + + +CHAPTER V - ESCAPADES + + +WHEN Brinnaria found herself actually domiciled in the House of the +Vestals she experienced an odd mingling of awe and elation. The mere +size of it was impressive, for it was nearly two hundred feet wide and +almost four hundred feet long. Also it stood alone, bounded by four +streets. Besides, it gained much dignity from its location, near the +southeast corner of the great Forum of Rome, that most famous of all +city squares, and under the very shadow of the Imperial Palace, the +walls of which towered nearly three hundred feet above it, where it +crouched as it were, on a site scooped out of the huge flank of the +Palatine Hill. + +Completely as it was dominated by the enormous bulk of the Palace it +yet looked very large, having three lofty stories. Inside it was both +spacious and stately. Brinnaria was habituated to space and stateliness, +for her father’s house had both, yet the Atrium of Vesta, as the House +of the Vestals was officially denominated, impressed her as vast and +splendid. That this immense and magnificent building was to be her +home gave her sense of her own importance that thrilled her through and +through. Its numerous retinue of deft and obsequious maid-servants added +to this impression. Brinnaria’s personal attendants, 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 at table, by a waitress who had nothing to do but +look after her wants. Then she had a sort of maid-of-honor, who had no +duties except to act as companion, make herself agreeable, read aloud, +if requested, accompany her on her outings and help to pass her leisure +pleasantly. As she was a mere child in years she had a sort of governess +to instruct her in all those subjects in which a Roman girl of good +family was generally given lessons: correct reading; a smattering of +mathematics, about equivalent to the simple arithmetic of our days; some +knowledge of literature; a steady and efficient drill in reading and +talking Greek; instrumental music, similar to the guitar-playing of +modern times, and embroidery. She had a personal maid to bathe her, +arrange her hair and otherwise make her comfortable; also a special maid +to attend to her private apartment, which included what we would call +a sitting-room, a tiny bedroom, and a large bath-room. The largest room +was used mostly as a school-room for lessons with her instructress. +Outside the Atrium Brinnaria had her private stable, her carriages, +her coachman and ostlers, and her lictor, the red-cloaked runner, who +preceded her carriage, announced its coming and cleared the way for it +through the crowds of foot-passengers who thronged the streets of Rome. +Life in the Atrium was austere and formal, but in no respect ascetic. +The austerities extended only to attire and behavior. The decorations +of the courtyard, of the corridors and stairs, of the two hundred rooms, +were bewilderingly varied and overpoweringly gorgeous. Every appointment +of the Atrium was luxurious to the last degree; the furnishings were +beautiful and precious, every object a work of art; the bathrooms +cunningly devised for comfort, the beds deep and soft, scarcely less +so the sofas on which the Vestals reclined at their meals, the table +service of exquisite glass-ware and elaborately chased silver, the food +abundant and including every delicacy and rarity most appetizing and +enjoyable. + +Except Meffia her co-Vestals were immediately liked and speedily loved +by Brinnaria. Meffia, a month older than herself and looking six years +younger, was a small, awkward, ungainly girl, with pale blue eyes, pale +yellow hair and babyish pink complexion. She had never had an ill hour +in her life, yet she always appeared ailing, shrank from any effort, +hated exercise and exertion and at every necessity for movement asserted +that she was tired, often that she felt weak. Brinnaria thought her +merely innately lazy and a natural shirk. The more she saw of her the +more her loathing for her and her hatred of her intensified. Quite +the reverse with the others. Manlia was a large young woman of about +twenty-two, a typical Roman aristocrat, her hair between dark brown and +black, her complexion swarthy, her figure abundant. Gargilia was older +than Manlia; a tall, slender creature with intensely black hair +and piercing black eyes that looked straight at you out of a face +healthfully tinted indeed, but of a whiteness which was the envy of half +the beauties in Rome. Numisia Maximilla was much like an older Manlia, +but sparer and of markedly haughty bearing and carriage. Causidiena, +newly become Chief Vestal, was a woman of about forty-five years of age, +mild, gentle, and charming, with cool gray eyes and glossy brown hair, a +being who aroused affection, inspired admiration and compelled love from +all her household. + +She won Brinnaria’s heart at once by telling her that she herself, when +she had first entered the Atrium of Vesta, had found it difficult to +learn the etiquette of the order, had wanted to shout and sing and laugh +out loud, to run up and down stairs instead of walking, to skip and +jump. + +That Causidiena had triumphed over similar tendencies comforted +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 so sympathetically that Brinnaria sat silent +through the long lecture that followed and was very submissive during +a searching interrogatory. She promised to comport herself as a Vestal +should. + +“But,” she said, “I shall suffer. That girl is unpleasant in ten +thousand ways, but the smell of her is the most unpleasant thing about +her. She’s been tubbed and scrubbed and massaged and perfumed twice a +day ever since I came here and she smells worse than a polecat, anyhow, +all day long, even the moment after her maid 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 help smelling her +yourself; she smells like nothing else on earth. It isn’t the smell of +a dirty girl or of an ill girl, nor the smell of a girl at all or of any +kind of a human being. I can’t describe it, but it’s a thin sour smell, +sharp and shrill like the 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 this outburst. At +the end of it the victim was meek and pliable, or so professed herself. +For at least five days Brinnaria kept up her effort to be comradely +with Meffia. By the sixth day she was completely exhausted and the two +avoided each other as before. + +Agonies indeed Brinnaria suffered in her efforts to live up to +Causidiena’s ideas of what she should be. On the whole she succeeded +pretty well and committed few errors of deportment. Outwardly she +controlled herself from the first; for, before her first cowed +sensations had worn off, her adoration of Causidiena had gained full +sway over her. Yet inwardly she suffered more and more acutely as time +went on, partly feeling that she must burst out in spite of herself, +partly dreading that she would. + +At last, after many days, she perpetrated her first and most undignified +prank. It was a terrific occurrence, judged by the standards of the +Atrium. + +The great peristyle of the House of the Vestals, including nearly +three-fourths of the whole courtyard, was beautified with a splendid +double colonnade, two tiers of pillars, one above the other, the lower +of delicately mottled Carystian marble wavily veined with green streaks +varying its whiteness, the upper of coral-red brecchia. Midway of the +court was a tank lined with marbles and always filled with clear water. + +One morning Meffia, walking about the court, in her irritatingly aimless +fashion, passed between Brinnaria and the edge of the tank. There was no +earthly reason for her so doing, as Brinnaria was barely a yard from +the margin of the pool, and on the other side of Brinnaria was the ample +expanse of the pavement of the spacious court. + +Brinnaria was exasperated by Meffia’s proximity, by her lackadaisical +manner, by her shambling gait, by her sleep-walking attitude, most of +all by the peculiar thin, sour odor which Meffia exhaled. At the +sight of Meffia’s elaborately disagreeable demeanor of isolation, +all Brinnaria’s natural self began to boil in her; at the whiff which +assailed her nostrils she boiled over, all her uncurbed instincts +surging up at once. She put out one foot and gave Meffia a push. + +Meffia, with a squall and a great splash, fell into the tank. + +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 scare her; but, in +a twinkling she realized that Meffia had fainted. + +Promptly she plunged in and rescued her victim. + +Numisia, hurrying to the sound of Meffia’s squawk, was horrified at the +sight of a dripping Vestal toiling up the steps of the tank carrying +over her shoulder another Vestal, equally dripping and limp as a +meal-sack, her arms and legs trailing horribly. + +Agitation at Meffia’s prolonged insensibility postponed inquiry as to +how she came to fall into the tank. It so happened that Causidiena first +questioned some of the maid-servants, who all hated Meffia and liked +Brinnaria. Therefore the ones interrogated told a story as much at +variance with the facts as they saw fit. + +Brinnaria, after she was again dry-clad, quaked inwardly in anticipation +of Causidiena’s wrath and suffered a good deal more at the thought of +her pained, silent displeasure. Hours passed, long hours passed and +nothing was said on the subject. From none of her sister Vestals did +she hear a word of reproach, not one of them behaved towards her any +differently from what was usual. + +Finally one of the maids enlightened Brinnaria. Promptly she sought a +private audience with Causidiena. First she made sure that none of +the maids would suffer for their duplicity and partiality; then she +confessed. + +The Chief Vestal was not wrathful, not even stern. She talked mildly and +gently, yet made Brinnaria feel very much ashamed of herself and acutely +penitent. + +The end of the interview was that Causidiena said: + +“You are such a robust child that you do not realize how frail Meffia +is. She is perfectly healthy, but is very easily unnerved or exhausted. +You have given her such a shock that she is unfit for duty. Any Vestal +is allowed to be ill for two nights and one day, if the trouble seems +trifling. But, if any Vestal is ill for a longer time, she is promptly +removed from the Atrium for nursing. I fear that Meffia may not recover +within the permitted time. I am most anxious that there should be as few +as possible cases of recorded illness in the Atrium under my management. +As you have caused the situation you must help me to avoid what I fear. +Go to Meffia and nurse her out of this and get her about to-morrow +morning.” + +“Castor be good to me!” Brinnaria cried. “Smell that girl for a day and +a night! Whew! Pretty severe punishment! But I deserve that 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 to her an irritant +tonic. She was entirely fit for duty the next day, not a trace of +slackness, unwillingness or sullenness. + +Causidiena early made up her mind that Brinnaria’s intentions were good +and that she was far from planning her outbursts. She had herself +no prevision of what was coming, not an inkling of what was about to +happen, she blurted out her shocking remarks without herself knowing +what she was going to say and was overwhelmed with confusion when her +own ears heard the totally unexpected words which she had uttered; she +contemplated aghast the havoc she had wrought. Generally she made a +pretty fair attempt at demeaning herself as a Vestal should; but, every +once in a while, without warning, something of her old wild self surged +up in her and the speech was spoken or the action completed before she +realized she was about to speak or act at all. + +One such freak gave her a sort of notoriety, brought her name to the +lips of every gossip in Rome. + +She was as pleased with her privileges as a normal child of her age with +a set of new toys, as warily insistent on them as any aristocrat of her +build and appearance. + +She learned the precise nature and extent of her prerogatives and did +her utmost to enjoy them all. Being an adept at accounts she ascertained +the character of the various estates and investments that went to make +up the great property which was her jointure as a Vestal, made sure of +the exact income from each of its components, also the total amount; +both how far she was allowed to have her way in spending it and how +soon she would be free of supervision in that respect. She made her will +before she had been a Vestal for a month, leaving all her property to +Almo, should she die before him; but the whole to the order of Vestals +if he died before her. + +Of all her privileges the one she enjoyed most was the right to drive +where she pleased through the city in her private carriage, with her +lictor running ahead and clearing the way for it. Carriage-driving +within the city limits was restricted in Rome by severe regulations +rigorously enforced.* Ordinary travelling carriages might use only the +great main thoroughfares leading to the city gates. The owner of +one, unless he happened to live on one of those chief arteries of the +traffic, might not step from his house door into his carriage but must +have it halted at some point on the permitted avenues and must reach +it on foot or by litter. But there was no street or alley in Rome wide +enough for a carriage which a Vestal might not drive through; a. +Vestal might drive anywhere. Brinnaria was first taken out driving by +Causidiena and Numisia, then by the others in succession. Driving with +Meffia was no pleasure to her, but it was the etiquette of the order +that each Vestal in turn should offer the courtesy of her carriage to a +new member of the sisterhood. + +*In fact, wheeled vehicles except for those of the Emperor and the +Vestals were forbidden in the city during the daytime. + +After that formality had been complied with Brinnaria was permitted 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, often with Flexinna. It gave her great +pleasure to drive up the long zigzag approach to the Capitol, where no +human being save the Vestals and the Empress might be driven, and where +few Empresses had ever ventured to drive, to have her carriage halted +before the great Temple of Jupiter, Juno and Minerva, where no carriage +except the carriages of the Vestals had been seen for more than a +hundred years, to enter the temple and say her prayers. It gave her +even more pleasure to take her mother or Flexinna with her, as was her +privilege; to make them sharers in her right to be driven to Rome’s +chief temple, to which all other Romans, even the Emperors, must walk or +be carried by litter-bearers. + +She discovered another privilege of her position. Roman women of the +better classes never went out of doors alone. On the streets a lady, +if not companioned by one or more equals, was always accompanied by a +maid-servant. This had been the custom from time immemorial and had come +to have the force of a moral law. The sight of a woman of wealth and +position entirely alone in her carriage would have been startling, to +see a lady in her litter without a maid walking behind the bearers would +have been shocking: the spectacle of a lady alone on foot would have +given scandal. + +But, by some survival of the simplicity of the manners in those +primitive days in which the order originated, the Vestals were +exceptions to this mandatory fashion. A Vestal might never go abroad on +foot, except in one of the solemn processions. But, in her litter or her +carriage, she might go anywhere in Rome unaccompanied, protected only +by her lictor and her bearers or coachman. This privilege, like many +others, marked the Vestals as being apart from and exalted above the +rest of woman-kind. + +As soon as Brinnaria learned that she possessed this right she proceeded +to exercise it. Though she felt lonesome when driving alone and enjoyed +her outing far more when she had a companion, yet she drove alone day +after day, merely because it was her prerogative. So driving she had, in +one day, two thrilling experiences. She had told her coachman to drive +where he pleased and hardly noticed where she was being driven. + +Suddenly turning from a side street into one of the main thoroughfares +of the city, she encountered the co-Emperor Lucius Verus with his +official escort. It was during the busy days preceding his departure for +Antioch and his great campaign against the Parthians. Verus, roused from +his devotion to sport and pleasure, was feverish with enthusiasm and +full of mercurial energy. 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 and gorgeous +retinue. Brinnaria had a blurred vision of splendid uniforms and +dazzling accoutrements. Her vision was blurred because her eyes filled +with tears; she turned hot and cold and almost fainted with emotion, +when the Emperor’s twenty-four lictors lowered their fasces, the whole +procession halted, the escort and the Emperor himself swerved their +horses aside to let her pass and remained at the salute until she +had passed. The sudden realization of the importance of her official +position overwhelmed her. + +As she drove on, when she recovered herself, she meditated on the +experience, and told herself that she must live up to her exalted +station, that she must never, never, never for such as one instant, +forget herself or behave otherwise than as became a Vestal. On the very +same drive, before she returned to the Atrium, she completely forgot +herself. + +It was a hot, sultry afternoon and it suited her coachman to drive +homeward along the Subura, that thronged and unsavory Bowery of ancient +Rome. Three street urchins were teasing and maltreating a rough +coated, muddy little cur. Brinnaria called imperiously to her lictor +to interfere. He was too far ahead to hear her. Her coachman had all he +could do to control her mettlesome span of Spanish mares. She spoke to +the boys and they laughed at her. Before she knew it she had flung open +her carriage door, had leapt out, had cuffed soundly the ears of the +three dumbfounded gamins, and was back among her cushions, the dog in +her arms. + +This escapade brought upon her a visit from the Pontifex of Vesta, the +semi-globular Faltonius Bambilio, diffusing pomposity. From him she +had to listen to a long lecture on deportment and to a reading of the +minutes of the meeting of the College of Pontiffs which had discussed +her public misbehavior. + + + +CHAPTER VI - NOTORIETY + + +WITHIN a month she did far worse. She perpetrated, in fact, a deed with +the fame of which not only the city, but the Empire rang; made herself +notorious everywhere. + +It was on the occasion of her introductory visit to the Colosseum when, +for the first time, she was a spectator at an exhibition of fighting +gladiators. She was in a high-strung state of elation and anticipation. +Going to the Amphitheatre, in itself, was a soul-stirring experience. +Meffia, to Brinnaria’s joy, had been on duty that day, along with +Numisia. This alone was enough to put Brinnaria in a good humor. +Meffia’s presence spoiled for her any sort of pleasure. Then, besides, +they drove to the Colosseum, not in their light carriages, but two +by two in their gorgeous state coaches, huge vehicles, of which the +woodwork was elaborately carved and heavily gilded and whose cushions +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 should call a purple, but a +deep, dark crimson, like the tint of claret in a goblet. Against a +background of this magnificent color, the Vestals, habited all in white, +showed conspicuously. Their stately progress through the streets, gazed +at and pointed at by the admiring crowds, was conducive to high spirits. +Still more so was it to be ushered obsequiously through cool corridors +and up carpeted stairs to the Vestals’ private loge, a roomy space +immediately to the right of the imperial pavilion. To be inside the +Colosseum at last set her eyes dancing and her heart thumping; the +anticipation of actually viewing the countless fights of many hundreds +of gladiators increased her excitement; to be seated in front seats, +with nothing but the carved stone coping between her and the arena +was most exhilarating of all. She was delighted with her great, carved +arm-chair, deeply cushioned and so heavy that it was as firm on its +solid oak legs as if bolted to the stone floor. She settled herself in +it luxuriously, gazed across the smooth yellow sand, glanced up at the +gay, parti-colored awning, and then conned the vast audience, line after +line of rose-crowned heads rising tier above tier all about her. + +She scanned the faces in the front row to left and right as far as she +could make them out clearly. She peered across the open space of the +arena, puckering her eyes to see better. When she 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 the thrill of a +general family handwaving in reply. + +Suddenly she experienced a qualm of bashfulness, as if every one 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 a while, for a long while, she fanned +herself nervously, very slowly, and striving to appear calm. Gradually +she became calm and laughed to herself at her own folly, realizing that +nobody was noticing her. + +Nobody noticed her. Many spectators noticed the Vestals, but no one +noticed her individually. This she realized acutely before the day was +over. + +At about the time when she began to feel herself at ease the entrance +of the Emperor and his suite distracted her attention from herself. When +the trumpet blew, announcing the approach of the Imperial party, a +hush fell on the vast audience and all eyes turned towards the grand +pavilion. When the trumpet blew the second time, just before the Emperor +came in sight, the hush deepened and the spectators watched intently. +When his head appeared as he mounted the stairs the audience burst into +the short, sharply staccato song of welcome, something like a tuneful, +sing-song college yell, with which Roman crowds greeted their master. +This vocal salute, a mere tag of eight or nine syllables, each with +its distinctive note, was repeated over and over until the Emperor was +seated. + +Then the audience settled themselves into their seats. Brinnaria had +instinctively started to rise when she caught sight of the Emperor. +Manlia had put out a restraining hand. The Vestals, alone of all Romans, +remained seated in the presence of the Emperor, not even rising when he +appeared. + +Marcus Aurelius was a tall, spare man of over forty years of age, with +abundant hair curling in long ringlets over his chest and shoulders, +and a full beard mingling with the carefully disposed curls. He was a +serious-faced man, careworn and solemn. + +Brinnaria regarded him with interest. She had never seen him so +close and she felt a sudden fellow-feeling for him from the sense of +semi-equality with him that flooded through her at having remained +seated. She recalled vividly the half-dozen times she had watched from +balconies the passage of processions in which the Emperor took part, +how her mother had made her stand up the moment he came in sight and had +kept her standing until he was far away. Her sudden exaltation in social +position was borne in upon her with startling emphasis. Not even her +carriage rides had impressed her so tellingly with the sensation of her +own importance in the great world of Imperial Rome. + +“How does he look to you?” Manlia asked. They were seated in the order +of their seniority, Causidiena on the right, then Gargilia, 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 no wonder in these +days. The Parthians are at us on the east, the Germans in the north, +and there have been more than twelve deaths in the palace each day for +twenty consecutive days now. This pestilence is enough to make anybody +sad.” + +“More than that,” Brinnaria countered. “He looks irritated and bored. +Everybody else is alert and keyed up with anticipation. His eyes are +dull and he looks as if he wished that the show was over and he could go +home.” + +“You have read him right,” Manlia told her. “He detests all kinds of +spectacles, takes no interest in races and hates beast-fights. Most of +all he loathes gladiatorial combats. Father has told me about it more +than once and Causidiena says the same thing. I can’t understand it. I +never get tired of sword-fighting, myself. What I like about it is its +endless variety. I never saw any two fights exactly alike, never saw two +closely alike. Each fight is a spectacle by itself, entirely different +from any other. I don’t mean the difference between the fighters in +respect to their equipment and appearance, though that contributes to +the variety also; I mean the difference in posture, 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 similar situations so very differently. You’ll get the +feeling for it in a 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 such a booky +man and spends so much time in reading and study. But I think not. There +never was anybody more of a bookworm than Numisia and she is as wild +over the shows as any street-boy in Rome. Anyhow, whatever the cause is, +that is the way he is. He was more than surfeited with shows before he +was Emperor. While he was nothing but a boy, soon after he was adopted +and made Caesar, he often had to preside in the Circus or here, +when Hadrian was away travelling and Antonius and Verus were on the +frontiers. He used to bring his tutors with him and have two of them +sit on each side of him a little behind him. Then, after the shows had +started, he would put a tablet on his knee and write a theme or work out +a problem in geometry and when he had finished it, would pass it to +one of his tutors for comment, or he would have them make out sets +of questions on history or something else and he would write out the +answers the best he could. Sometimes he would read. All this he did as +calmly as if he were alone in a closed room with nothing to call off his +attention. Yet he was most careful to seem to watch the shows and would +look up every little while and gaze about the arena. But nothing ever +distracted him from his lessons. That is the kind he is. He simply never +cared for this sort of thing. He says that what oppresses him is +the maddening monotony of gladiatorial shows. Fancy anybody thinking +sword-fighting monotonous! But he does. He says every combat is just +like every other. All he sees in a fight is two men facing each other +and one being killed. He gets no thrills from the uncertainties of the +outcome, no pleasure from the dexterity and skill of the fighters. To +him it’s just butchery, and the same kind of butchery over and over. He +says he might get some enjoyment out of a show if something novel would +happen, something he never saw before, something unexpected. But nothing +ever does.” + +Brinnaria regarded curiously this grave, earnest man, who derived so +little pleasure from the most coveted position on earth. She continued +to watch him until everybody turned to the procession around the arena +of all who were to fight that day, the invariable preliminary of a +gladiatorial show and always a splendid spectacle. When the fights began +Brinnaria felt at first an unexpected tightening of the chest, as if +a band were being drawn tight just under her armpits. Her breath came +short and hard and her heart thumped her ribs. + +The first sight of blood made her feel faint and the horrible +contortions just below her of a dying man, who writhed in strong +convulsions like a fish out of water, made her qualmish and sick. +But all that soon passed off. She was a Roman and the Romans were +professional killers, had been professional killers for a thousand +years. Success in hand to hand combat with any individual foe was every +male Roman’s ideal of the crowning glory of human life; the thought of +it was in every Roman’s mind from early childhood, every act of life was +a preparation for it. Their wives and sisters shared their enthusiasm +for fighting and their daughters inherited the instinct. Combat on the +field of battle was felt as the chief business of a man, to which all +other activities merely led up. By reflected light, as it were, every +kind of combat acquired a glamour in the thoughts of a Roman. The idea +of men killing men, of men being killed by men, was familiar to all +Romans, of whatever sex or age. Brinnaria was not affected as a modern +girl would be by the sight of blood or of 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 handsome fighter who +reminded her strongly of Almo. + +His adversary was that kind of gladiator known technically as a +secutor, a burly ruffian in complete armor, with huge shin-guards like +jack-boots, a kilt of broad leather straps hanging in two overlapping +rows, the upper set plated with bronze scales, a bronze corselet, and, +fitting closely to his shoulders, covering head and neck together, a +great, heavy helmet. He carried a large shield, squarish in shape, but +curving to fit him as if he were hiding behind a section of the outer +bark of a big tree. He was armed with a keen, straight bladed Spanish +sword. + +Facing this portentous tower of metal was a gladiator of the sort known +as a retiarius, equipped solely with a long-handled, slender-shafted +trident, like a fisherman’s eel-spear, and a voluminous, wide-meshed net +of thin cord. His only clothing was a scanty body-piece of bright blue. +His feet were small with high-arched insteps. Brinnaria particularly +noticed his perfectly shaped toes. His bare legs, body and arms were +in every proportion the perfection of form, the supple muscles rippling +exquisitely under his warm tanned skin. His face was almost beautiful, +with a round chin, thin curled lips, a straight nose, and a wide brow. +Its expression was lively, even merry, almost roguish, his lips parted +in an alert smile, his blue eyes sparkling. 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 +impish delight. + +Roman children heard as much talk of gladiators as modern children hear +of baseball or cricket. Brinnaria knew perfectly well that the betting +on a set-to between such a pair was customarily five to three against +the secutor and on the retiarius. Yet she felt the sensation usual +with onlookers in such a case, the sensation purposed by the device +of pairing men so differently equipped, the sensation that the mailed +secutor was invincible and the naked retiarius helpless against him. She +was 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 only been able to +reach him. But a clumsy, heavy secutor never could reach a nimble, +agile retiarius. The one Brinnaria was watching was more than usually +light-footed and skipped about his adversary in a taunting, teasing way. +Again and again he cast his net intentionally too short, merely to +show how easily he could recover 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 he +lunged through the flapping straps of his kilt and grazed his thigh. The +secutor was barely scratched, but his blood trickled down 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 a last effort to escape, but +the secutor kicked him in the ribs and, before he could recover, sent +the trident spinning with a second kick and set his foot upon his +victim’s neck. So standing he rolled his eyes over that part of the +audience nearest him to discover whether it was the pleasure of the +lookers-on that the defeated man should be killed or spared. + +Now it so happened that nearly all the spectators in that part of the +audience were watching a far more exciting contest farther out in the +arena, where two Indian elephants, each manned by a crew of five picked +men, were clashing in a terrific struggle No one, except Brinnaria, had +any eyes for the plight of the young retiarius below them The secutor +beheld indifferent faces gazing over 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. +She failed. He glanced, indeed, at the Vestals, but as three of them sat +impassive he missed Brinnaria’s imperious gesture. He prepared to put +his foe to death. First, however, he looked further along the front rows +to make sure that he had the permission of the general audience, since +the occupants of the Imperial box and of the Vestals loge seemed to +ignore him. + +Brinnaria perceived that he would probably not look again in her +direction; that as soon as his roving eyes came back from their +unhurried survey of the audience, he would deliver the fatal blow. She +quickly knotted the corner of her robe to the arm of her chair, squirmed +out of it, and threw it over the parapet. The robe of a Roman lady +was sleeveless and seamless, rather like a 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 it hung. She had acted so quickly that no one +noticed her, not even Manlia, who sat next her, staring fascinatedly at +the spectacle of the wrestling elephants and their warring crews. + +Grasping her robe firmly with both hands, escaping by a hair’s-breadth +the despairing clutch of the horrified Manlia, Brinnaria half vaulted, +half rolled over the parapet, swung sailor-fashion to the rope her robe +formed, went down it, hand over hand, raced across the sand and faced +the victorious secutor. + +He, although a foreigner and a savage, had been long enough in Rome to +know perfectly what a Vestal was and he recoiled from her in a panic +no less than he would have felt had the goddess Vesta herself come down +from the sky to balk him of his prey. + +The next instant no one was regarding the death-struggle of the +elephants, nor any other of the scores of fights ended, ending, under +way or just begun. Every human being in the audience was staring at the +amazing spectacle of a Vestal virgin, clad only in her thin, clinging +tunic, standing over a fallen retiarius and facing an appalled and +dumbfounded secutor. + +The place fell very still. So still that the shrill voice of a +street-gamin, a boy from the Via Sacra, was audible throughout the vast +enclosure from gallery to gallery. He yelled in his cutting falsetto: +“Good for you, Sis!” + +But his neighbors silenced him at once and not even any other ragamuffin +lifted his voice. The audience were startled mute. They were quite ready +to applaud the girl’s daring, but the shocking impropriety of her breach +of decorum struck them dumb. + +The Emperor, roused from his meditations by the sudden hush, looked +about him for the cause of it and saw the situation. He leaned forward, +arm out, thumb flat against the extended fingers. The secutor sheathed +his sword. + +Manlia, with great presence of mind, untied the dangling robe and +dropped it over the parapet. One of the arena attendants carried it to +Brinnaria and she put it on. But she would not stir and stood straddling +the fallen lad until one of the Emperor’s aides came out of one of the +low doors in the arena-wall, crossed to her and assured her that the +defeated retiarius would be spared and cared for. Then she suffered +herself to be led back to her seat, by way of the door in the wall and +passages and stairs never 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. The place pulsated with +a roar like that of a great waterfall in a deep gorge, salvo after salvo +of cheers swelling and merging. The deep boom of their applause pursued +Brinnaria and made her cower. The people would never forget her now. +They were in ecstasy. She was their darling. + + + +CHAPTER VII - AUDIENCE + + +ON the drive homeward from that unforgettable gladiatorial exhibition +Manlia and Gargilia shared the second state coach: in the first sat +Brinnaria by Causidiena. + +“My child,” Causidiena queried, “what ever made you do it?” + +“I don’t know,” Brinnaria replied. “I did it before I thought.” + +“Well!” said her elder philosophically. “It is done now and cannot be +helped. But please try to remember that a Vestal is expected to control +herself at all times, never to act without forethought, to reflect long +before she acts, to do nothing unusual, to be very sure in each instance +that what she is about to do is wholly becoming to a Vestal.” + +“I’ll keep on trying,” Brinnaria replied mutinously, “but I was not +constructed to be a Vestal. I always knew it; I know it now and I am +afraid I’ll continue my blundering through the conventions. I’m built +that way.” + +She had to endure a second long lecture from Faltonius Bambilio. +She listened submissively enough, but vouchsafed not one word of +self-defence, rejoinder or comment; and, when urged to speak, she was +obstinately silent. + +“My daughter,” Faltonius droned at her, “remember that, since your +entrance into the order of Vestals, I stand to you in the relation of +parent to his own child. You should confide in me as in your spiritual +father.” + +“I should do nothing of the kind,” Brinnaria refuted him. “I know the +statutes of the order better than that. Up to the days of the Divine +Augustus, the Pontifex Maximus inhabited the house next to the house +of the Vestals and stood in the closest relation of fatherhood towards +them. But since he went to live on the Palatine and made us a present of +his house we have occupied all this Atrium which was built in the place +of the two houses. Since then no one has been in the same intimate +relation of control over us. The Emperors have always held the office of +Pontifex Maximus and as such each Emperor has been the spiritual father +of the Vestals. The Emperor is my spiritual father and you are not.” + +“Your self-opinionated talk does you little credit,” Faltonius retorted. +“Since you know so much you must know also that for many years each +Emperor has designated some priest as Pontifex of Vesta to be his deputy +and to stand in the closest relation of parental 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 feel inclined to +confide I’ll make my confidences to my genuine spiritual father, not to +his understrapper.” + +Bambilio was piqued and spoke sourly. + +“The Emperor,” he said, “will be far from pleased with my report of +you.” + +“It will make no difference to me or to him what you report or whether +you make any report or not,” spoke Brinnaria. “I’m going to have a talk +with him myself.” + +“Doubtless,” Bambilio meditated. “He has sent for you to rebuke 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 have gone. I know my +rights. If he wanted to talk to me, he’d have to come to me here. But +as, in this case, I wanted to talk to him, I have asked for an audience +and the day and the hour have been fixed. I am to have an audience +to-morrow morning. And now, as I am to talk to him myself, I see no +reason why I should spend more time being bored by his deputy. If you +please, I should be obliged if you would terminate this interview.” + +Astounded and dumb, Faltonius bowed himself out. + +Causidiena suggested that she accompany Brinnaria on her visit to the +Palace. + +“It would be lovely to have you with me,” Brinnaria said, “and I am ever +so grateful for your offer. You are a dear and I love you. I shall want +you and wish for you all the way there, all the time 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 were only six years old, to have +audience with the Emperor alone whenever I ask for it and as often as I +ask for it. I am not going to abate an iota of my rights merely for my +own comfort. In the second place, I must go through this unhelped and +unsupported all by myself. I know it; I must fight it out alone and come +through alone. He’ll be sympathetic, if I deserve it. If I don’t deserve +sympathy from him I don’t deserve it from you, nor your company and your +countenance, either.” + +Scared Brinnaria was, but even through her worst qualms of panic she was +uplifted by an elating sense of her own importance. Not her encounter +with Verus and his retinue, not her having remained seated when Aurelius +entered the Colosseum had so poignantly made her realize how exalted was +a Vestal. She drove to the Palace alone, not in her light carriage, but +in her huge state coach, feeling very small in her white robes amid +all that crimson upholstery, but also feeling herself a very great +personage. + +Her reception at the Palace made her feel even more so. The magnificence +of the courtyard in which her coach came to a standstill, the ceremonial +of turning out the guard in her honor, the formality with which she was +conducted from corridor to corridor and from hail to hail, the immensity +and gorgeousness of the vast audience hall in which she was finally left +alone with the Emperor; all these did not so much overwhelm her as exalt +her. She felt herself indeed a princess. + +The Emperor greeted Brinnaria kindly, was as sympathetic as possible +and put her at her ease at once. He soothed her, made her seat herself +comfortably and said: + +“Don’t worry about what you have done. You are certainly the most +startling Vestal since Gegania, but you have really done nothing +actually wrong. So do not agitate yourself about what cannot be altered. +The question which concerns me is, what will you do next?” + +“I think,” said Brinnaria, “that the next thing I shall do will be to +procure a good strong rope and hang myself.” + +“My child,” the shocked Emperor exclaimed, “you really should not 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 as serious as +life and death. I have thought of nothing but suicide since Trebellius +conducted me back to my seat. I can’t get the idea 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’t want to be a +Vestal.” + +“Yes, I know,” he assured her. + +“Well,” she went on, “now I am a Vestal and must serve out my thirty +years, I’m really trying to do my best to be all I ought to be. I really +am. I’ve tried hard to be sedate and grave and collected 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 myself boils up in me under the scum of +convention I’ve spread on top of the cauldron, so to speak. I don’t +mean to let go and be natural and spontaneous. I’ve done the awful thing +before I know I’m going to do it. I didn’t mean to pour the pork gravy +over old Gubba’s head; but she looked so funny I just did it without +knowing what I was going to do. I didn’t mean to throw Manlia’s pet +monkey out of the window on to Moccilo’s head. But her shock of red +curls looked to be just the place on which to drop little Dito, and +I dropped Dito before I thought. It’s just the same way about all the +other dreadful things I do. I don’t mean to do them, but I do do them.” + +“Don’t worry,” the Emperor said, “you’ll outgrow all that.” + +“I trust I may,” Brinnaria sighed, “but how about the harm I’m doing as +I go along?” + +“You haven’t done any harm, not any harm that matters,” the Emperor +soothed her. + +“Are you perfectly sure of that?” she persisted. “If you could make +me perfectly sure of that, I should feel a great deal better. 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 such conduct 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, I should hold you gravely +unfitted for your position. But you are manifestly sincere in your +efforts to be all you ought to be and are trying genuinely to overcome +your tendencies and to outgrow your coltishness. I am of the opinion +that, if you curb yourself from now on, you have done no harm.” + +“Do you think,” Brinnaria insisted, “that if you called a meeting of all +the colleges of pontiffs and put the question to them, that they would +make the same answer you have made?” + +“You amazing child!” Aurelius exclaimed. “Why should you assume the +attitude of advocate against yourself? Why suggest a synod to discuss +your conduct and express an official opinion on it? Is not my opinion +enough? Even if I saw fit to call a synod and all the members of it held +the same views and expressed them never so cogently, do you not realize +that, if my views were contrary to theirs, it would be my view that +would prevail; that it would not only be my privilege and my right +but my imperative duty to override any opposition and to enforce my +decision? Are you not satisfied with the opinions of the man who is at +once Emperor and Chief Pontifex of Rome?” + +“But,” Brinnaria persisted, “I am not at all sure that you are speaking +as Emperor and Chief Pontifex. To me you seem to speak as a kindly +husband and father very sympathetic towards another man’s little +daughter who comes to you in deep trouble of spirit.” + +“You amazing child!” the Emperor repeated. “You talk as if you were +forty years old. Tell me precisely what is troubling you, for I must +have failed to fathom it, and be sure I shall reply officially as +Emperor and Pontifex.” + +“What troubles me,” said Brinnaria, “is the dread that my wild +and tomboyish behavior may be as displeasing to the Goddess as +coquettishness or wantonness. I am in terror for fear my ministrations +may be unpleasant to her, may be sacrilegious, may not only fail to win +her blessing upon Rome but may draw down her curse upon all of us. I +never thought of that until I stood there all alone out in the arena, +astraddle of that beautiful boy whom I just had to save, feeling all of +a sudden horribly naked in my one thin, clinging undergarment, with two +hundred thousand eyes staring at me. It came over me with a rush that +I was not only never going to be fit for a Vestal but that I wasn’t fit +for a Vestal and I hadn’t been fit for a Vestal; that I not only was +going to do harm, not only was doing harm, but had done harm. If the +Parthians are devastating the frontier along the Euphrates and the +Marcommani and the Quadi are storming the outposts along the Danube +and the Rhine, perhaps that is because my presence in the Atrium is an +offence in the eyes of Vesta, my prayers an affront to my Goddess, my +care of her altar-fire an insult to her. I tremble to think of it. And I +cannot get it out of my head. I wake up in the dark and think of it and +it keeps me awake, sometimes, longer than I ever lay awake in the dark +in my life. It scares me. I am a Vestal to bring prosperity and glory +to the Empire, to pray prayers that will surely be answered. Suppose +the Goddess is deaf to my prayers because I am unworthy to pray to her? +Suppose that my prayers infuriate her because I am vile in her sight? +Suppose I am causing disaster to the Empire? I keep thinking all that. +Do you wonder that I think of suicide, of hanging myself, like the two +Oculatas?” + +“My child!” Aurelius cut in. “You have not done anything that justifies +your comparing yourself to the Oculata sisters.” + +“We’ll come back to that later,” Brinnaria replied. “Just now let us +stick to the point. Do you think my fears justified or not?” + +“Decidedly not,” the Emperor rejoined, without an instant’s hesitation, +“and I speak not as a soft-hearted parent who sees the soul of his own +daughter looking at him out of the eyes of every little girl whose heart +troubles her, I speak as the guardian of the interests of the Empire, as +the warder of the destinies of Rome. + +“Your misbehavior has certainly been grave, I admit; and, if done +maliciously, would entail all the harm you imagine. But the Goddess can +see not only your actions but your thoughts. Your scruples do you high +credit. I will not say you are as pleasing to the Goddess as would be a +grave and sedate ministrant, but I do solemnly decide and declare that +you need have no further dread of any past, present or future harm to +the Empire or to Rome 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’ll boil over +again and not once, but many times.” + +“Vesta will comprehend,” he said, “if your derelictions are less and +less frequent and less and less violent; if you succeed a little better +from month to month and from year to year. She will not be pleased +with your lapses, if you lapse again, but she will be pleased at your +struggles with yourself and with your good intentions. She will smile +upon your ministrations and hearken to your petitions. Be comforted.” + +“I am,” said Brinnaria, “as far as that trifle goes, but now we come to +my real and chief concern. Suppose I am as detestable in the sight of my +Goddess as the Oculata sisters were, and for a similar reason; suppose +I ought to hang myself as dead as they hanged themselves. Oughtn’t I, +then, to hang myself?” + +“You incredible creature!” Aurelius cried. “I’ve met women by the +thousand, by the tens of thousands, but never a girl like you. What +do you mean? What can you mean? You cannot mean what you seem to mean. +Explain yourself. Be explicit. Tell me all about what is troubling you. +I’ll understand and put your mind at ease.” + +“I trust you may,” Brinnaria sighed, “but I dread that you cannot. I +mean just what I seem to mean.” + +“Impossible!” the Emperor cried, “a child of ten, but a few months out +of her mother’s care and those few months in the care of Causidiena! And +I wouldn’t believe it of you if you were twice your age.” + +“Oh,” said Brinnaria, “I haven’t acted like Caparronia and the two +Oculatas, and I shouldn’t if I were never so much left to myself. +But you said yourself that Vesta can read my thoughts and I knew that +without your telling me so. Suppose that my thoughts are as abominable +in the sight of my Goddess as was the behavior of those three +unfortunates? Oughtn’t I to hang myself and be done with myself?” + +“Indubitably,” said the Emperor, “if the facts were as your words imply. +But you are just frightening yourself to death with vapors like a child +afraid of its own shadow. Be explicit, be definite, and I can put you at +peace with yourself at once and permanently.” + +Brinnaria drew a deep breath. + +“To begin with,” she said, “you know that, before I was taken for a +Vestal, I was plighted to Caius Segontius Almo.” + +“Certainly, I knew that,” Aurelius replied. “All Rome knew of his 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 make myself +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 his resolve +to remain unmarried, to wait thirty years for you, to marry you the very +day you are free. I assumed that he would not be so constant unless +he believed you equally constant. No harm in that! You have a right to +marry at the end of your service and a right to look forward to it.” + +“That is what troubles me,” Brinnaria said. “I cannot feel that I have a +right to look forward to it.” + +“Now listen to me,” said the Emperor. “Few Vestals have left the Atrium +at the end of their thirty years. Not every one that has left has +married, the third Terentia withdrew at the end of her term and did +not marry, nor did the only Licinia who ever completed her service. But +Appellasia married and so did Quetonia and Seppia. Others have married +after their service, though it is thought unlucky. The right to leave +the order implies the right to marry after leaving. The right to leave +implies the right to mean to leave, to plan to leave, to look forward to +leaving and marrying. You have that right, like any other Vestal. Does +that satisfy you?” + +“It does not,” Brinnaria asserted. “I know a Vestal has a right 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 few days or months appear to me very +different from looking forward to it from the first hour of my service, +and knowing not only that I mean to marry, but just the man I mean to +marry, and loving him all the time, and longing for him. I can’t help +it; I feel that way, and I dread that I am not an acceptable ministrant +and I tremble for fear of the consequences to you and to Rome. I think +I ought to hang myself and be done with it. You haven’t comforted me a +bit.” + +The Emperor stood up. + +“Sit still!” he commanded, sharply. + +He paced up and down the huge audience hail; paced its full length three +times each way. + +Then he reseated himself. + +“Do you sleep soundly?” he queried. + +“Like a top, mostly,” said Brinnaria. “I go to sleep the instant I put +my head on the pillow. Generally I sleep all night long until my maid +wakes me up in the morning. Many nights, but not every night, nor most +nights, I wake up with a dreadful start, as if I had had a nightmare, +and lie there quaking for fear I am ruining Rome. But even then I +generally go to sleep again pretty quick.” + +“Do you think of Almo when you wake up in the dark?” he pursued. + +“Mighty little,” she declared. “In the dark all I can think of is Rome +and my duty. I often reflect how immediately and how greatly being taken +for a Vestal changes a girl and alters, not only her outlook on life and +her ways of thinking, but also her feelings. It has cooled and steadied +me more than I could have believed. When Daddy quarrelled with Segontius +and told me he would not let me marry Caius I used to feel as if I were +going to suffocate, used to feel that way sometimes for hours at a time, +used to suffer horribly, used to wake up in the dark and feel as if, +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. I used to feel +that way at dinner, when out visiting any time of day, for hours. I +never feel that way now. And after Daddy and Segontius made up their +quarrel and it was arranged that I was to marry Almo, I used to feel as +if it would kill me to wait four years, I used to grit my teeth to think +of it, of waiting four years for him; used to think of it an day long, +no matter what I was doing. And I used to wake up in the dark and roll +round in bed and bite the bed-clothes with rage at the thought of the +long waiting ahead of me. I wanted Almo the way you want a drink, just +before noon of a hot day, when you have been travelling since before +sunrise and the carriage creaks and jolts and the road is all dusty and +there is no wind and you feel as if you would rather die than go any +longer without a drink. I used to want that way to be married to Almo. + +“I never feel that way now. I want him and I want to be married to him, +but I look forward to it as I look forward to the next race-day at the +Circus or the next fight of gladiators at the Colosseum, as a desirable +and delightful time sure to come but by no means to be hurried, as +something I can very well do without until the time comes. The thought +of Almo is always somewhere back in my mind ready to come forward when +I have nothing else to think of. But I think of him placidly and calmly +and 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 to me. I +speak as Chief Pontifex and as Emperor of Rome. I command you to forget +your qualms and to banish your fears. Officially as Chief Pontifex I +judge you a ministrant most acceptable to your Goddess, as a most fit +and suitable Vestal. I judge that no girl naturally austere, frigid and +self-contained could be half so pleasing to Vesta as a tempestuous child +like you who curbs her temper and schools her outward behavior all she +can in the effort to be all she ought to be; whose feelings even tame +themselves without any effort of hers in the holy atmosphere of the +Atrium. + +“Manifestly you are telling the truth about your acts, your impulses +and your thoughts, I judge you a pure-minded, clean-hearted Vestal, +most suitable for her duties. Vesta understands and is glad of your good +intentions and pleased with your struggles to master yourself. You +are most acceptable to her. You will bring no curses on Rome, but your +prayers will be heard and you will bring many blessings on the Empire. +Be comforted!” + +“I am,” said Brinnaria simply, “and I shall stay comforted.” + + + + +BOOK II--THE REVOLT OF DESPONDENCY + + + +CHAPTER VIII - SCOURGING + + + +AFTER her audience with the Emperor, Brinnaria felt more at peace with +herself, succeeded better in curbing her native wildness, incurred less +and less disapprobation and won increasingly the respect and affection +of her elders. Her outbursts were less frequent and less violent; she +learned to hold her tongue, to appear calm, to stand with dignity, to +move with deliberation. Her admiration for Causidiena and Numisia and of +their statuesque attitudes and queenly movements helped her a great deal +by both conscious and unconscious imitation. It helped her more to find +that she was succeeding better than Meffia. At first Brinnaria had been +notably more prone than Meffia to assume gawky or ungainly postures, +and, as she was the bigger of the two, she was the more conspicuous. + +Before long she began to improve in her bearing, but Meffia did not. +Brinnaria held herself erect, head up and shoulders back. 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 meals luxuriously +extended on broad sofas. Brinnaria had always had trouble about her +meal-time attitudes, and her mild easy-going mother had often had to +speak to her and bid her remember herself. In the Atrium she had found +her legs kept up their old habits of getting into strange postures, her +feet seemed distressingly in evidence, and her knees always in the wrong +place. + +Causidiena, tactful and sympathetic, solved the problem of how to +influence her by getting her to watch Meffia and to contrast her with +Manlia and Gargilia. + +They were almost as statuesque as their two elders, who reclined at +table in attitudes scarcely less majestic than those of the Fates on the +Parthenon pediment. Meffia sprawled uncouthly and was forever spreading +her knees apart, generally with one up in the air. Her postures were so +disgusting that Brinnaria was hot all over with determination not to be +like Meffia. + +She succeeded. + +Great was her exultation when she perceived that it was no longer +Brinnaria and Meffia who gave cause for concern to Causidiena, but +Meffia and Brinnaria, great her triumph when she made sure that +Causidiena had ceased worrying about her, or worried only at long +intervals, but was perpetually solicitous concerning Meffia. + +Meffia was indeed a cause of solicitude. She was stupid, slow and idle +about her lessons, tearful on the slightest provocation, inert at all +times and generally ailing, though never actually ill. She never looked +clean, no matter how faithfully her maid toiled over her; she could +somehow reduce, in an amazingly short time, the neatest attire to the +semblance of mussed and rumpled rags; she slouched and shambled rather +than walked, she lolled rather than sat. + +Her hands were feeble and ineffective, her writing remained a childish +scrawl, no matter how much she was made to practice, she dropped 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 eighteen splendid marble +columns, the intervals between which were walled up to the height of not +much more than five feet, the space from the top of the low wall to the +roof being filled in with magnificent lattices of heavy cast bronze; +so that the temple was a pleasant, breezy place on warm days, but very +draughty in chilly weather and bitterly cold in winter. It contained +no statue, nor any other object of worship, except in the center of +its floor the circular altar on which burned the sacred fire, solemnly +extinguished and ceremonially rekindled on each first of March, the New +Year’s day of the primitive Roman Calendar, but which must never at any +other time be permitted to go out, upon whose continual burning depended +the prosperity of Rome, according to the belief implicitly held by all +Romans from the earliest days until Brinnaria’s time, and for centuries +after. The extinction of the perpetual fire, whether by accident or +by neglect, was looked upon as a presage of frightful disaster to the +nation, as an omen of impending horrors, almost as the probable cause +of national misfortunes. Without qualification or doubt the people of +Brinnaria’s world believed that, as long as Vesta’s holy fire burned +steadily and brightly, Rome was assured the favor and protection of her +gods; that, should it die out, their wrath was certain to be manifested +in terrible afflictions involving the entire population. + +The care of the fire was the chief duty of Brinnaria and her five +associates, as it had been of their predecessors for more than nine +hundred years. As maple was the sacred wood in the Roman ritual, maple +only was used for the holy fire. The size of the pieces used and their +shape was also a matter of immemorial ordinance. Each piece was about +a cubit long, about the length of the forearm of an average adult, +measured from elbow to finger-tips. Each piece must be wedge-shaped, +with the bark on the rounded side and the other two sides meeting at a +sharp edge where had been the heart of the trunk or branch from which it +had been cut. Each piece must have been clean cleft with a strong sweep +of the axe. The pieces varied from sections of stout trunks to 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 and might be +done no otherwise than as prescribed. It was quite a delicate art to lay +the necessary piece in just the right place and at just the right angle; +it required more than a little good sense and discretion to know just +when a piece was required, for the fire must not burn violently nor must +it smoulder, it must be steady but not strong. This discretion, this +good sense, Meffia was slow to acquire. The art of laying the wood +properly she acquired very imperfectly. She did it well enough under +direction; but, even with Causidiena watching her, she was likely to +drop the piece of wood on the floor, or, what was worse, to drop it on +the fire instead of laying it on. The scattering of ashes on the floor +of the temple was held unseemly, that live coals should fall from +the Altar was considered almost sacrilegious. Meffia, more than once, +perpetrated such appalling blunders. Very tardily did she learn her +duties; only after four years could she be trusted to take her regular +turn in care of the fire and to stand her watch of half a night each +time her turn came between sunset and sunrise. + +During these four years she had grown into a not unpersonable young +woman, for Roman girls were generally young women at fourteen years of +age. She was never ruddy or robust, always pale, delicate-looking and +fragile-seeming, never actually ill, but usually ailing, peevish, limp +and querulous. Life in the Atrium largely consisted in the effort to +keep Meffia well, to make sure that she was not overtired, to +foresee and forestall opportunities for her to blunder, to repair the +consequences of her mistakes, generally to protect and guide her. + +In the same four years Brinnaria had developed into a muscular girl, +tall, amply fleshed, robust, rosy, full of healthy vigor, lithe and +strong. She was radiantly handsome, knew it, and was proud of it. Her +duties she knew to the last, least detail, and Causidiena trusted her +quite as much as Manlia or Gargilia. + +One spring night it was Mafia’s watch until midnight, at which time +Brinnaria was to relieve her. It was the custom that, at the end of her +watch, the Vestal on duty made sure that the fire was burning properly +and then left it and herself waked her relief, it being entirely +inconceivable that, under roof and protected all round by bronze +lattices, a properly burning fire could go out in the brief space of +time required to leave the temple, enter the court-yard, cross it, +ascend the stairs and for the relieving Vestal to reach the temple by +the same path reversed. + +Brinnaria was a sound sleeper. She woke in the pitch dark with the +instant conviction that she had slept long past midnight, with a sudden +qualm of apprehension, of boding, almost of terror. + +She was a methodical creature for all her wildness, and very neat in +her habits. By touch, almost without groping, she dressed in the dark. +Silently she slipped out of her room, noiselessly she closed the door, +softly she groped her way to the stairs, down the stairs out into the +courtyard to the corner of the colonnade. + +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 blackish canopy of +cloud above her. + +Swiftly she flitted the length of the court, whisking past the +dimly-seen columns; swiftly she traversed the three small rooms at its +eastern end, panting she plunged through the dark doorway into the dark +temple. + +There was no flicker of fire-light on the carved and gilded panels 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 of redness through +the ashes. + +Brinnaria held her hand over the ashes. Nowhere could she discern more +than the merest hint of warmth. + +On the back of her hands, as on the back of her neck, she could feel the +chill of the faintly stirring dawn wind that breathed through the bronze +lattices and across the temple interior. + +She felt among the wood piled ready, found a slender sliver of a cleft +branchlet, and methodically ploughed the ashes across and across. She +did bring to the surface a faint redness, but not even one coal which +could have been blown into sufficient heat to start 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 a heap on the +mosaic floor against the base of one of the pillars. + +Brinnaria kicked her once viciously and shook her repeatedly. + +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 to do. Go +to your room, go to bed and go’ to sleep, stay asleep, keep your mouth +shut, say nothing, pretend you woke me at midnight, pretend you had +nothing to do with the fire going out, pretend you know nothing about +it, keep your face straight, keep mum, leave the rest to me!” + +“But,” wailed Meffia, “if they think you let the fire go out you’ll be +scourged for it.” + +“Well,” snapped Brinnaria, “what’s that to you? Go to bed.” + +“But,” Meffia insisted, “I let it go out. I ought to take the blame, not +you. I ought to be scourged with you.” + +“You insufferable little idiot,” Brinnaria hurled at her, “you never +could stand a flogging, you’d die of it most likely. To a certainty +you’d be ill, and have to be sent off to be nursed and kept away for a +month or more to recover. I won’t have Causidiena worried with any such +performances. And as sure as the fire is out, you’d behave like the poor +creature you are. You’d scream and 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? I have +tinder and flint and steel in my room. We could light the fire 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’d desecrate the temple, pollute the Altar, +anger Vesta, make all our prayers in vain, bring down curses without +count on Rome and all of us. Be silent! Don’t you dare to speak another +word! Off to bed with you!” + +“But,” Meffia trembled, “you hate me; why do you take my punishment?” + +“I don’t hate you,” hissed Brinnaria. “I despise you! And I’ve told you +why I’m going to take the licking. Off to bed with you!” + +“But,” Meffia still persisted, “what will you do?” + +“Do?” whispered Brinnaria. “Do? Why I’ll curl up where you’ve left a +warm spot on the floor and go to sleep and sleep till some one 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 a moment. I +never did mind a licking. It’s bad enough while it lasts, but soon over. +No licking will worry me. I’ll sleep like a top. Now to bed with you, or +I’ll break every bone in your worthless body!” Meffia started to speak +again; Brinnaria caught her gullet in one strong, young hand, clutched +her neck with the other, and craftily pressed one thumb behind one of +Meffia’s ears. + +Meffia squeaked like a snared rabbit. + +“There!” Brinnaria whispered fiercely. “Now you know how badly I can +hurt you when I try. If you let on that it was you and not I that let +the fire go out what I did to you then won’t amount to anything to what +I’ll do to you. I’ll kill you. Promise you’ll keep mum.” + +“I promise,” gasped Meffia. + +“Go to bed!” Brinnaria hissed. + +Meffia went. + +Brinnaria, left alone, did all she could to make the ashes on the Altar +look like the remains of a fire that had died out of itself, to efface +all signs of her efforts to find live coals under the ashes. She judged +that she had succeeded pretty well. + +Then she composed herself on the floor and was asleep in ten breaths. + +There Manlia found her when the daylight was already strong. + +When wakened Brinnaria merely remarked: + +“It can’t be helped. I always did sleep too sound.” That day was a +gloomy day in Rome. The report was noised abroad that the holy fire +had gone out and a chill of horror spread through all classes of the +population, from the richest to the poorest. + +The Romans were very far from being what they are represented to have +been by unsympathetic modern writers on them. Practically all modern +writers have been unsympathetic with the Romans, for the Romans were +Pagans and all modern writers on them have been more or less Christians, +chiefly interested in Pagans because most Pagans were in the later +centuries converted to Christianity. With that fact in the foreground of +their thoughts and with the utterances of Roman skeptics and dilettantes +well in view, most modern writers assert what they sincerely believe, +that the Romans had only the vaguest and most lukewarm religious faith, +and no vivid devout convictions at all. + +The facts were entirely the other way. There were agnostics among the +cultured leisure classes, there were unbelievers of various degrees +everywhere in the towns and cities. But the mass of the population, +not only universally, all over the countryside, but collectively in the +urban centers, believed in their gods as implicitly as they believed +in heat and cold, birth and death, fire and water, pleasure and pain. +Government, from the Roman point of view, was a partnership between the +Roman people, as represented by their senate, and the gods. Under the +Republic every election had appeared to the Romans who participated in +it to be a rite for ascertaining what man would be most pleasing to the +gods to fill the position in question. Under the Empire the selection +of a new Emperor, whether a confirmation by the senate of the previous +Emperor’s accredited heir, 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 chief partner. + +The choice of war or peace, of battle or maneuvering for delay, seemed +to the Romans the taking of the advice of the gods, who manifested their +injunctions by various signs, by the appearance of the liver, heart, +lungs and kidneys of the cattle and sheep sacrificed, by the flight +of birds, by the shape of the flames of altar-fires, all regarded as +definite answers to explicit questions; who also made suggestions +or gave warnings by means of earthquakes, floods, conflagrations, +pestilences, eclipses, by the aurora borealis, by any sort of strange +happening. + +The extinction of the sacred fire in the Temple of Vesta was looked upon +as a categorical warning that the behavior of the Romans or of some part +of them or the conduct of the government was so displeasing to the gods +that the Empire would come to a sudden end unless matters were at once +corrected. All Romans believed that as implicitly as they believed that +food would keep them alive or that steel could kill them. + +Therefore the days after Meffia let the fire go out were gloomy days +in Rome. The report of a great defeat for their army, with a terrible +slaughter of their best soldiers would not have depressed the crowds +more. + +The people were as dazed, numb and silent as after the first news of +a terrific disaster. Every kind of public amusement or diversion was +postponed, merry-making ceased everywhere, the wildest and most reckless +felt no inclination towards frivolity, even the games of children were +checked and repressed, gravity and solemnity enveloped the entire city +and its vast suburbs. The men talked soberly, as if at a funeral; while +for women of every degree, but especially for the matrons of the upper +classes, the three 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, on his way +home from Antioch and the great victories of his three years’ campaign +against the Parthians, Marcus Aurelius in Germany hastening from point +to point along the headwaters of the Rhine and Danube, desperately +resisting the pertinacious attacks of the Marcomanni. The Pontiffs +were without their chief and acted under the leadership of Faltonius +Bambilio, Pontifex of Vesta, the busiest and most anxious of them all. +In consultation with the august College of Pontiffs, hastily assembled +at the Regia, a splendid building occupying the site of Numa’s rustic +palace, near the great Forum and close to the Temple of Vesta, he +arranged for the necessary ceremonial of expiation and atonement. + +Besides the fasting of the women all over the city, besides their +day-long and night-long prayers, besides the sacrifices which each +matron must personally offer in her own house, besides the sacrifices +which must be offered for the matrons in the Temple of Castor and in the +less popular women’s temples in every quarter 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 the wrath of the gods, to placate them, to win their +favor, must be carried out with every detail of care, with the utmost +magnificence. + +Meanwhile, and above all, the negligent Vestal must be punished; and at +once the sacred fire must be ritually rekindled. + +The ritual rekindling worried and exhausted Bambilio not a little. + +The procedure was traditional and rigidly prescribed in every detail. +The sacred fire might not be rekindled by anything so modern as a flint +and steel, far less by anything so much more modern as a burning glass. + +The primitive fire drill must be used and the fresh fire produced by the +friction of wood on wood. + +The ritual prescribed that a plank of apple wood, about two inches +thick, about two feet wide and about three feet long, should be placed +on a firm support, upon which it would rest solidly without any tendency +to joggle. At its middle was bored a small circular depression, about +the size of a man’s thumb-nail and shallow. Into this was thrust the +tapered end of a round rod of maple wood about as thick as a large man’s +thumb. The upper end of the rod fitted freely into a socket in a ball of +maple wood of suitable size to be held in the left hand and pressed down +so as to press the lower end of the rod into the hole in the apple wood +plank. Round the middle of the rod was looped a bow-string kept taut by +a strong bow. By grasping the bow in his right hand and sawing it back +and forth, the operator caused the rod to whirl round, first one way and +then the other, with great velocity. The friction of its lower end soon +heated up the hole in the apple-wood plank, and round that were piled +chips of dry apple-wood, which, if the operator was strong and skilled, +soon burst into flame. + +Bambilio was fat and clumsy. Before he had succeeded he was dripping +with perspiration, limp with weariness and ready to faint. But succeed +he did. The quart or more of apple-wood chips burst into flame at last; +Causidiena, standing ready with the prescribed copper sieve, caught the +blazing chips as they were tilted off the plank, conveyed them to the +Altar, placed maple splinters on them, and soon had the sacred fire +burning properly. + +The punishment of the guilty Vestal was even more a matter of concern, +of trepidation. She must be scourged that very night, and, as in respect +to the rekindling of the fire, every detail of what must be done was +prescribed by immemorial tradition, long since 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 three thongs of +leather made from the hide of a roan heifer. In each thong were knotted +the tiny, horny half-hoofs of a newborn white lamb, eight to a thong, +twenty-four in all. These bits of horny hoof tore and cut terribly the +bare back of the victim. It was prescribed that the scourge must be laid +on vigorously, not lightly. + +The Vestal scourged must be entirely nude. As it would have been +sacrilege unspeakable for a man to see the ankle or shoulder of a +Vestal, let alone her entire body, it was enjoined that the scourging +take place at midnight, in a shut room, and that a woolen curtain should +hang between the Pontifex and his victim. + +Bambilio was terribly wrought up at the prospect of the perplexing 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 dread that, in spite of the dark room and the +curtain, he might catch a glimpse of his victim and bring down the wrath +of the gods on himself and on Rome. And, apart from all else, he was +shame-faced and hot and cold at the idea of being in the same room, +even in a darkened room screened by a curtain, with a naked Vestal. +He blushed and shuddered. To be sure, it was prescribed that one other +Vestal was to be in the room, on the same side of the curtain as the +victim, to say when the scourging had continued long enough and the +negligent Vestal had been sufficiently punished. But this comforted +Bambilio very little. + +He wished the ordeal over. + +At midnight he stood in the dark, close to the curtain. The darkness +was not as dark as he should have liked. Some ghost of a glimmer of +starshine filtered into the room and he could make out the shape of the +curtain. He waited, scourge in hand. + +Presently Numisia spoke, told him that Brinnaria was prepared for her +beating, took his left hand and guided it in the dark. He felt the +curtain’s edge against his wrist, felt a warm soft elbow, grasped it, +and at once gained a notion of the direction in which he was to lay on +his blows. + +He struck round the other side of the curtain and felt that the scourge +met its mark, but slantingly and draggingly. He tried again and seemed +to do better. + +For the third blow he made the scourge whistle through the air. + +“Hit harder, you old fool,” spoke Brinnaria, “you’re barely tapping me!” + That made him angry and Brinnaria experienced as severe a scourging as +any fat old gentleman could have compassed. + +She did not shriek, sob or whimper: not a sound escaped her. She +suffered, suffered acutely, particularly when one of the lamb hoofs +struck a second time on a bleeding gash in her back or on a swollen +weal. But her physical pain was drowned in a rising tide of anger +and wrath. She felt the long repressed, half-forgotten tomboy, hoyden +Brinnaria surging up in her and gaining mastery. She fairly boiled with +rage, she blazed and flamed inwardly with a conflagration of resentment. +It was all she could do not to tear down the curtain, spring on +Bambilio, wrench his scourge from his hand and lay it on him. She kept +still and silent, but she felt her inward tornado of emotion gaining +strength. + +When Numisia spoke Bambilio let go Brinnaria’s arm and stepped back +a pace. “My daughter,” he said, “you have been punished enough. Your +punishment is accomplished. This is sufficient.” + +Then Brinnaria spoke, in a voice tense, not with pain, but with 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 boiled over. + +“Then,” she fairly yelled at him, “I’m going to begin beating you. 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 on the floor, struck +her head and either fainted or was stunned. + +Bambilio, his eyes tight shut, the instant after Numisia’s head cracked +the floor, heard snap the string supporting the curtain. + +He shut his eyes tighter. + +He felt the scourge wrenched from his limp fingers, felt the back of +his neck grasped by a muscular young hand, felt the impact 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 get away, but he +dreaded unseemly contact with a naked Vestal and did not succeed in his +efforts. + +The blows fell thick and fast. He was an old man exhausted by a long day +of excitement and by his exertions while scourging Brinnaria. + +His knees knocked together, he gasped, he snorted: the pain of the blows +made him feel faint; he collapsed on the floor. + +Then Brinnaria did beat him, till the blood ran from his back almost as +from hers, beat him till the old man fainted dead away. + +When her arm was tired she gave him a kick, threw the scourge on 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 it before I +thought. Are you hurt?” + +“No,” said Numisia. “Don’t tell anyone you pushed me. I’ll never tell. I +don’t blame you, dear.” She fainted again. + +Causidiena, waiting under the colonnade of the courtyard, was appalled +to descry in the gloom a totally naked Brinnaria, a mass of clothing +hanging over her arm. + +“My child,” she protested, “why did you not put on your clothes?” + +“I don’t care who sees me!” Brinnaria retorted. “I’m boiling hot; I’m +all over sweat and blood and my back’s cut to ribbons.” + +“What are you going to do?” Causidiena queried. + +“I’m going to bed,” Brinnaria replied. “Please send Utta to me and tell +her to bring the turpentine jug and the salt box.” + +“My dear,” Causidiena objected, “you’ll never endure the pain!” + +“Yes, I shall,” Brinnaria maintained. “I’ll set my teeth and stand the +smart. I don’t mean to have a festered back. I’ll have Utta rub me with +salt and turpentine from neck to hips; I’ll be asleep before she’s done +rubbing.” + +“I’ll come and see she does it properly,” Causidiena said. + +“Better not,” said Brinnaria. “Numisia and Bambilio need you worse than +I do.” + +“Why?” queried Causidiena. + +“After Bambilio was done beating me,” Brinnaria explained calmly, “I +beat him. Numisia tried to stop me and somehow fell on the floor and +was stunned. She came to after I was done with Bambilio, but she fainted +again. I beat him till he is just a lump of raw meat, eleven-twelfths +dead, wallowing in his blood like a sausage in a plate of gravy.” + +“My child!” Causidiena cried, “this is sacrilege!” + +“Not a bit of it!” Brinnaria maintained, a tall, white shape in the +star-shine, waving her armful of clothing. + +“I have pored over the statutes of the order. It was incumbent on me +to keep still and silent all through my licking. But I defy you or any +other Vestal or any Pontiff or Flamen or either of the Emperors to show +me a word on the statutes of the order or in any other sacred writing +that forbids a Vestal, after her thrashing, to beat the Pontifex to red +pulp. I have. You’d better go help him; he might die. And poor Numisia +needs reviving. I’m all right; send me Utta and the salt and turpentine, +and I’ll be fit for duty in a day or two.” + +“You terrible child!” said Causidiena. + + + +CHAPTER IX - ALARMS + + +THE next year was the year of the great pestilence. Pestilence, indeed, +had ravaged Italy for five consecutive summers previous to that year. +But the great pestilence, for two centuries afterwards spoken of merely +as “the pestilence,” fell in the nine hundred and nineteenth year after +the founding of Rome, the year 166 of our era, when Marcus Aurelius and +Lucius Verus had been co-Emperors for a little more than five years and +Brinnaria had been almost five years a Vestal. It devastated the entire +Empire from Nisibis in upper Mesopotamia to Segontium, opposite the isle +of Anglesea. Every farm, hamlet and village suffered; in not one town +did it leave more than half the inhabitants alive; few cities escaped +with so much as a third of the population surviving. Famine accompanied +the 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’s greatness and +from it dates the decline of the Roman power. It broke the tradition of +civilization and culture which had grown from the small beginnings of +the primitive Greeks and Etruscans more than two thousand years before. +During all those two thousand years there had been a more or less steady +and a scarcely interrupted development of the agriculture, manufactures, +arts, skill, knowledge and power of the mass of humanity about the +Mediterranean Sea; men who fought with shields and spears and swords, +also with arrows and slings, believed in approximately the same sort of +gods; wore clothing rather wrapped round them than upholstered on their +bodies as with us; reclined on sofas at meals; lived mostly out of doors +all the year round; built their houses about courtyards, and made rows +of columns the chief feature of their architecture, and sheltering +themselves in colonnades, sunny or shady according to the time of the +year, the chief feature of their personal comfort. Up to the year of the +great pestilence that civilization had prospered, had produced a +long series of generals, inventors, architects, sculptors, painters, +musicians, poets, authors, and orators. Everywhere men had shown +self-confidence, capacity, originality, power and competence and had +achieved success for two thousand years. + +The great pestilence of 166 so depleted the population that Rome never +again pushed forward the boundaries of her Empire. Some lucky armies +won occasional victories, but Rome never again put on the field an +overwhelming army for foreign conquest, never again could fully man, +even defensively, the long line of her frontiers. + +All classes of the people suffered, but most of all the rich, the +well-to-do, the educated and the cultured classes of the towns and +cities. And the main point of difference between the great pestilence +and the others which had preceded it was the universality of its +incidence. For two thousand years pestilence had occurred at intervals, +but previously not everywhere at once. + +If one country suffered others did not; if half the Mediterranean world, +even, was devastated, the other half escaped. From the immune +regions competence and capacity had flowed into the ruined areas and +civilization had gone on. But the great pestilence left no district +unharmed. In six months it killed off all the brains and skill, all the +culture and ingenuity in the Empire. There were so few capable men left +in any line of activity that the next generation grew up practically +untaught. The tradition of two thousand years was broken. In all the +Mediterranean world, until centuries later, descendants of the savage +invaders developed their new civilization on the ruins of the old; no +man ever again made a great speech, wrote a great book or play or +poem, painted a good picture, carved a good statue, or contrived a good +campaign or battle. The brains of the Roman world died that year, the +originality of the whole nation was killed at once, the tradition broke +off. + +Of course, the survivors did not realize the finality of the disaster, +but they did realize its magnitude. In Italy, fed almost wholly by +imported food, the famine was most severe. In Italy the pestilence +was most virulent. Men disputed as to whether the great army of Lucius +Verus, returned home from its splendid victories in Parthia, had brought +with it a form of pestilence worse than that of the five previous years, +or whether the returned soldiers had merely been a specially easy +prey to the pestilence already abroad in Rome. Whichever was true, the +veterans died like flies. So did the residents of Rome. Whole blocks of +tenements were emptied of their last occupier and stood wholly vacant; +many palaces of the wealthy were left without so much as a guardian, +the last inmate dead; the splendid furnishings, even the silver plate, +untouched in every room; for the plague had so ravaged Rome that there +were not even robbers and thieves left to steal To the survivors, since +genuine piety as they knew it was all but universal among the Romans, it +was some small comfort, a faint ray of hope, a sign that the gods were +not inexorably wrathful, that, after Rabulla’s death, there was no +case of pestilence in the Atrium, not even among the servitors, that +no Vestal so much as sickened. Through it all the six remained hale and +sound. + +But when the plague abated, only Manlia had any living relations left +her. The other five had lost every kinsman and kinswoman, to the ninth +and tenth degree. + +Brinnaria’s parents, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts and cousins were +all among the victims. This left her grave and sobered with grief, with +no trace of her girlish wildness apparent. + +It also left her enormously rich, one of the wealthiest women in 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 seasons before +the year of the great pestilence, so, ebbing yearly, it continued for +some years after its acme. As soon as the worst was manifestly over the +life of Rome began to revive to some degree, the city dwellers plucked +up heart, the refugees began to return to their town houses, hunger +and terror were forgotten, industry and commerce rallied, bustle and +activity increased from day to day, and, slowly indeed, but steadily, +Rome returned to its normal activity and appearance. The survivors +reconstructed their life on the old lines, the streets and squares +were again thronged, the public baths, those vast casinos of ancient +club-life, were daily crowded with idlers. + +The repopulation of the city brought into it many rich families from +towns all over the Roman world. + +Their influx sent up the price of large residences and caused much +activity in the renting and selling of properties suitable for the homes +of people of ample means. + +Brinnaria, without a male relation of even the remotest degree, came to +lean more and more on Vocco, the husband of her chum Flexinna. He was a +young man of not unpleasing appearance and of courtly manners, but very +haughty, reserved and silent by nature; and exceedingly spare, lean +and wiry, with black hair and brows, a complexion as if tanned and +weatherbeaten and an habitual frown. He was fond of Brinnaria and unbent +to her more than to most of his acquaintances. She treated him as a sort +of honorary cousin and turned over to him many details of the care of +her large and scattered property. He took upon himself in her interest +the sale or management of her distant estates, found for them capable +overseers or purchasers at advantageous prices, bought slaves where they +were needed, arranged for the marketing of the more important products +and accounted to her for the proceeds. + +About her town properties he had more trouble and some exasperation, +for he found the apparently practical and unsentimental Brinnaria oddly +unwilling to disturb the contents of the palaces in which her kinsmen +had lived and died. She was naturally a good business woman and all +her instincts urged her to increase her capital and her income by every +means within her power and at every opportunity. Yet, when Vocco came to +her with offers of high prices for the various buildings which she +had inherited he could induce her to arrange for the sale only of the +smaller and less valuable houses, or of those tenements which had been +owned merely to rent, but had never been inhabited by any members of +the Brinnarian clan. At the suggestion of preparing for sale any of the +palaces of her near kinsfolk she balked; from the barest hint towards +moving the furniture in her father’s home she recoiled in horror. + +Vocco found himself faced by invincible femininity, with the possession +of which he would not have credited Brinnaria. At first he was +irritated. As he missed sale after sale he became more and more +aggravated. But he kept his temper, held his tongue and waited for +Brinnaria’s mood to alter. Her sentimentality gradually waned as the +prices offered steadily mounted. After long hesitation she gave orders +to sell at auction the furniture from the house of a distant cousin, and +to rent the house. That broke the spell. One by one the late abodes of +the Brinnarii were cleared and sold; sold furniture and all, cleared and +rented, or rented furnished. + +The former dwellings of her aunts and uncles she was reluctant to +disturb. She felt a sort of sacredness about these splendid houses where +she had been merry as a child. When at last she made up her mind to part +with one she would not give the order to sell it until she had gone over +it herself and selected some pieces of furniture which she specially +valued. Vocco tried to dissuade her, but she would not listen to him. + +Her visit to the vast, empty palace had a most depressing effect on her. +All her grief at her countless bereavements rushed back over her in a +flood and overwhelmed her. She would not allow a stick of furniture to +be moved and withdrew her consent to the sale. + +Vocco was patient and silent. + +After a time this mood, too, wore off. + +She had that particular dwelling emptied and sold and, once that first +step taken, under the pressure of hugely profitable offers, sold all the +other properties. + +In each case she insisted on inspecting the houses room by room before +anything was moved. After the first she had no hysterical qualms, +did not show any outward emotion, selected what 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 her childhood +home. Brinnaria took a night to think it over. + +She had not entered the place since her father’s funeral. He had been +the last of the family to die, three months after his wife, and some +days after his last surviving son. During the lengthy interval the +palace had stood shut fast, cared for only by a few slaves, and those +not lifelong family servants, but recent purchases; for the pestilence +had carried off with their masters nearly all the home-bred house +slaves. + +At the thought of going through the deserted halls and silent rooms +Brinnaria winced. But she nerved herself up to it. She named a day on +which she meant to face the ordeal, asked Vocco to order the palace +swept and dusted, and announced to Guntello, almost the sole survivor of +her father’s personal servitors, that he was to accompany her. + +When the day came she set out, not in her carriage, but in her litter +with eight Cilician bearers, her lictor running ahead and Guntello and +Utta walking behind. + +She began her survey accompanied by Guntello and Utta. But when she came +to the nursery and schoolroom she sent the two away, told them to wait +for her in the peristyle, shut herself in and had a long, hard cry; +precisely as if she had been, as of old, a little girl hurt or angry or +vexed. After she had wept till no more tears flowed she felt relieved +and comforted. + +She called Utta, had her bring water, bathed her face and sent the maid +away again. + +Then she resolutely examined room after room. The second floor took a +long while, for there were many doors to open and close for the last +time. + +There was a third floor, a feature possessed by few dwellings in Rome +in ancient times. The Imperial Palace, which later towered to even +seven stories, was unique in Brinnaria’s time, in the possession of five +superposed floors. The great palace of Sallust, near the Salarian Gate, +had but three. + +To the third floor she mounted. Before she had investigated half the +rooms she found a door fast. What was more, as she tried it, she thought +she heard a sound, as of human movement, inside that room. + +Brinnaria was no weakling. Methodically she tried that door with her +full, young strength, tried it all along its edge opposite its hinges, +tried it at the middle, at the top, at the bottom. She made sure the +door was not stuck or jammed; she was convinced that it was bolted +within the room. + +She leaned over the railing of the gallery and called Guntello. + +The odd note in her voice brought that faithful giant up the stairs, two +steps at a time; the beams of the house, even the marble 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,” he replied. + +Brinnaria’s voice came hard and sharp. + +“You in that room!” she called, “unbolt that door and come out, or it +will be the worse for you. I’ll count ten and then order 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 countenance expressing +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 and angry as +well,” Calvaster replied, “but the explanation is simple. I learned that +you were proposing to sell the property. I had a curiosity to see it as +it is. I found means to slip in and go over the building. I counted on +leaving before you arrived. I miscalculated, that is all. Awkward for +both of us, but unintentional on my part.” + +“I don’t believe half of that rigmarole,” snapped Brinnaria. + +“It is all true, nevertheless,” Calvaster asserted with an air of +injured innocence. + +“One thing is plain, anyhow,” Brinnaria declared. “You bribed one 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 was Guntello was +wonderfully quick. In a flash he had the intruder by the neck. Utterly +helpless Calvaster was marched down the stairs. + +In the courtyard Brinnaria had brought before her the half dozen slaves +who had charge of the empty house. They stood in a row fidgeting and +glancing at each other. + +“Now,” she demanded of Calvaster, “point out which one you bribed.” + Calvaster remained motionless and mute. + +“Hurt him, Guntello,” said Brinnaria. + +Guntello applied a few simple twists and squeezes, such as schoolboys of +all climes employ on their victims. + +Calvaster yielded at once and indicated one of the suspects. + +“Throw him out, Guntello,” said Brinnaria. + +When Guntello returned he cheerfully inquired, with the easy assurance +of an indulged favorite. + +“Shall I kill Tranio, Mistress?” + +“No!” said Brinnaria viciously. “I wouldn’t have a toad killed on the +word of that contemptible scoundrel. Give Tranio a moderate beating and +hand him over to Olynthides to be sold at auction without a character.” + Her survey of her former home and her selection of the ornaments, +pictures, statues, articles of furniture and other objects which +she desired reserved for herself she completed with an air less of +melancholy than of puzzled thought. + +She was off duty for all of that day and night and was to dine with +Flexinna and Vocco. In the course of the pestilence they had inherited a +magnificent abode on the Esquiline. In particular it had a private bath +with a large swimming-pool. The Vestals were the only ladies in Rome who +might not enjoy the magnificent public baths, to which all Roman society +flocked every afternoon, somewhat as we moderns throng a beach at a +fashionable seaside resort. Brinnaria, who loved swimming, felt +the deprivation keenly. The Atrium had luxurious baths, but no +swimming-pool. Whenever Brinnaria dined with Flexinna she particularly +enjoyed the swim the two always took together before dinner. On that +afternoon, while they were revelling in the water, Brinnaria told +Flexinna of her adventure. + +“I can’t conjecture,” she said, “what motive brought him there. I have +been racking my brains about it ever since it happened 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 no guess even.” + +“Why,” expounded Flexinna, “he was there to c-c-collect evidence +against you. He hates you because you wouldn’t marry him and he is +t-t-tenaciously resolved to be revenged. He is on the lookout for +anything that might d-d-discredit you. He hoped to spy on an interview +b-b-between you and Almo, for he surmised that you would arrange to have +Almo meet you in the empty house!” + +“The nasty beast!” cried Brinnaria, shocked. “How dare he?” + +“Oh, b-b-be sensible,” Flexinna admonished her. “You know the k-k-kind +he is. He’s b-b-bound to impute to everybody what he would d-d-do in +their p-p-place. Any man under the same circumstances 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 some man +b-b-besides her husband, or in almost any man, and if married women are +under suspicion, on the assumption that one husband is not enough, of +c-c-course you Vestals, who haven’t even a husband, 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 and was 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 merely conjectures; +what is more, conjectures ought to have some basis in fact. You assert, +as if you know it to be true, that Calvaster expected 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-town t-t-ten +d-d-days and has had the old house on the C-C-Carinae reopened. He’s +settling d-d-down to live in Rome.” + +Brinnaria flushed. + +“I think,” she said, scrambling to her feet, “that he might have had +enough consideration for me to stay in the country.” + +“So d-d-do I,” said Flexinna. + + + +CHAPTER X - CONFERENCE + + +SOME months later, during one of the brief and infrequent breathing +spells in his ten years’ fight to beat off the raids of the Marcomanni +and other Germanic tribes, Aurelius returned from the Rhine frontier +to Rome. As soon as she was reasonably sure that the Emperor was rested +from the fatigues of his journey and had disposed of the worst of his +accumulated routine duties, Brinnaria sought a second audience with the +chief of the nation. + +She was then a tall, grave girl of nineteen, looking and behaving like +a woman of twenty-five. Very handsome she was, full-fleshed without a +trace of plumpness, fun breasted without a hint of overabundance. Her +brown hair, now grown long again after its ceremonial shearing at her +entrance into the order of Vestals, was so dark that it was almost +black. Arranged in the six braids traditional for Vestals and wound +round her head like a coronet it became her notably. Her complexion +was creamy, with a splendid brilliant color that came and went in her +cheeks. Her expression of face was an indescribable blend of kindliness +and haughtiness towards others, of austerity and cheerfulness inwardly, +of intellectuality and comprehension towards life at large. She had +acquired the statuesqueness of the conventional Vestal attitudes and +movements, but she sat and stood so that all beholders felt a vivid +impression of her vitality, of reserve strength, incomparably beyond +anything possessed by her five colleagues. + +Her stately pacing as she walked always appeared the conscious restraint +of what, of itself, would have been a swinging stride. She wore her +clothes with an unanalyzable difference, with a sort of effrontery, as +Calvaster put it in talking of her to his cronies. + +On her way to the palace, erect in her white robe amid the gorgeous +crimson hangings of her gilded state coach, she meditated on the great +dissimilarity between the feelings with which she had gone to her first +audience with the Emperor and those with which she now approached his +abode. Then she had been palpitating with conscientious scruples and +childish dreads, now she was sure of herself and of her errand; then she +had thought chiefly of her mother and of the traditions of her family +and clan, now not only her mother was dead, but the whole family of +the Epulones had perished except herself and the Brinnarian clan was +represented by but three families, her relationship to which was fainter +than any assignable degree of cousinship; then she had been full of +elation at her lofty position in the world, now she was perfectly at +home in her environment and felt no emotion at the thought of it. + +At the palace she found herself in the same vast room, alone with a +somewhat older and graver Emperor, now sole ruler of their world since +the death of his colleague, Lucius Verus. He greeted her kindly, with an +air of effort to conceal his weariness, and when both were seated asked +her errand. + +“In the first place,” she said, “I want you to tell me whether you 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,” he said. +“You have certainly done better than I expected or hoped. You have +curbed your wild nature so well that, of late years, you have behaved +altogether as a Vestal should. Even earlier your conduct was creditable, +since from the very day of your promise to me, your outbursts were less +and less frequent and also less and less violent. Once only have you +acted so that I felt displeased when I heard what you had done and feel +somewhat displeased even yet.” + +“I suppose,” Brinnaria ruminated, “you mean my larruping Bambilio.” + +“Yes,” Aurelius admitted. “That was in a sense unforgivable. Had I been +in Rome at the time I must have animadverted upon it with 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 of Vesta. It would +have been incumbent upon you, as Pontifex Maximus, yourself to give +me my ceremonial scourging. To you I should have been, of course, as +submissive after my beating as while 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. “I do not +acquit you nor exonerate you. But I do make allowances. And we must +distinguish. We must not confuse the causes of my disapprobation of what +you did with my reasons for believing that no harm resulted. Nor, for +that matter, must we confound with either of them those qualities +in yourself and those circumstances of the case which make me feel, +illogically perhaps, but very possibly, more inclined to thank you than +to censure you.” + +“Castor be good to me!” cried Brinnaria. “Am I dreaming?” + +“Don’t interrupt, you disrespectful minx,” the Emperor laughed; “this is +a lecture. Hear it out. + +“In the first place you were technically right in saying that there +is not one word in any sacred writing or in the pronouncements of the +Pontiffs or the statutes of the Vestals to forbid a flogged Vestal from +beating her scourger. Just as Solon in the code of laws which he drew up +for the Athenians prescribed no penalty for the slayer of his father or +mother, because, as he explained when the omission was pointed out to +him, he had thought that no child would ever kill its parents; so no +framer of rubrics ever foresaw the necessity of forbidding what no one +conceived of as possible. All persons were assumed to be too much in +awe of Pontiffs, for anyone to dare to raise a hand against any Pontiff, +least of all a Vestal against her spiritual father. The world had to +wait for a Brinnaria to demonstrate that the unimaginable could come to +pass. + +“Yet the very fact that it was nowhere written down that you must not do +it makes your act all the worse. It was monstrous. + +“But fortunately it was not sacrilegious. The person of the Pontifex of +Vesta is not sacrosanct and a blow inflicted on him is not to be rated +as impious. Your act called for no expiation, personal or official. It +did not desecrate him, or you, nor the place where it occurred. + +“Besides, I cannot resist admitting to you,”--and the Emperor smiled an +unmistakable smile--“that this particular Pontiff of Vesta is farther +from being sacrosanct than any of his predecessors. As far as I can +learn, Faltonius is a worthy man, pious and scrupulous. But he is +absurdly unfitted for his office in appearance and in manner. The +self-importance he assumes, the pomposity with which he performs his +duties, would be too great even for an Emperor. He irritates all of +us. All of us have wished, secretly or openly, many, many times, that +Bambilio would be soundly thrashed. He has been. You did it. The story +was too good 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, nor my +own. To hint them is perhaps too much; to particularize them would be +unseemly. I may say, however, that just as street-boys acclaim you by +shouting: + +“‘That’s the girl that saved the dog;’ just as all over the Empire 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 you and whisper: + +“‘That’s the priestess who walloped Bambilio!’ You are not infamous, you +are famous. + +“As for myself I am the more inclined to feel indulgent towards you +because I understand how you felt. You were boiling with 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 you knew that you yourself +had done nothing to deserve chastisement, that you were suffering for +another’s fault.” + +“What!” cried Brinnaria. + +“Oh, yes,” Aurelius continued, easily. “Causidiena and I are quite +agreed on that point. Neither she nor I have questioned Meffia, and we +do not mean to; partly because we are sure enough, without any admission +from her; partly because the matter is best left as it is, without any +further notice. But, with the exception of Meffia, it is quite certain +that, from the Vestals themselves down to the last slave-girl, every +resident of the Atrium believes that not you but Meffia let the fire go +out, and that you took the blame due her. And we can all conjecture your +motives, as we all applaud them. + +“Meffia might never have survived a scourging, might have been ailing +for months. Rome wants no sick Vestals nor dead Vestals. Causidiena is +grateful to you, all the Atrium is grateful, I am grateful.” + +“But,” said Brinnaria, wide-eyed, “I had supposed that, if Meffia was +suspected, there would be an inquisition and testimony under oath and +that it would be obligatory that the Vestal actually at fault must be +scourged.” + +“For once,” the Emperor smiled, “you have failed to read accurately the +statutes of the order. It is positively refreshing. I was beginning to +feel that you were altogether too accurate. In fact the scourging of a +delinquent Vestal is a mere disciplinary regulation, designed to assure +the maintenance of the fire. It is not in the nature of a mandatory +atonement. It has nothing in common with an act of expiation. It has +nothing to do with placating or propitiating the Goddess. It has no +likeness whatever to the punishment of a guilty Vestal.” + +“That reminds me,” said Brinnaria, “of what I came for. I’m as grateful +as possible for what you have said to me, surprised that Causidiena and +you so easily saw through my deception, delighted that you take it as +you have, more than delighted to find you so kindly disposed towards me. +I need all the kindness you can feel towards me. I want to come to +the point, to the reason why I am here. I want you to answer me this +question: Suppose I were accused of the worst possible misconduct, +formally accused before you, what then?” + +“Then,” said Aurelius, “you would have a fair trial.” + +“I believe I should,” said Brinnaria. “You would be perfectly fair 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 those absolved were +not tried fairly. Postumia was, if the records from so long ago are to +be trusted. The first trial of the third Licinia was perfectly fair, the +minutes are very full and there is no shade of bias in the discussion of +her many interviews with Crassus, while the court was plainly genuinely +amused at his greed for desirable real-estate and at his artifices to +induce her to sell cheap. Fabia, in the same year, was justly treated. +But most of the other acquittals were quite as bad as most of the +convictions to my mind. I can discover almost no trial where both sides +had a full hearing, where the judges tried to get at the facts and kept +their attention on the evidence, where the finding as the expression of +the opinions rather than of the partiality of the Pontiffs. Almost +every verdict on record, it seems to me, was dictated by favoritism or +influence or prejudice or wrath.” + +“You seem to think you know a great deal about the subject of trials of +Vestals,” Aurelius remarked. + +“I feel justified in thinking so,” Brinnaria maintained. “Where the +minutes of the court have perished, as, of course, in the case of all +the trials before the capture and burning of the city by the Gauls, I +have read what records remain. Where the court records are extant I have +pored over every word of the minutes of the proceedings and of every +document attached.” + +“That is more than ever I found time to do,” Aurelius meditated. “Your +conclusions ought to be of interest. What are they?” + +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 or expediency 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 or Porphilia or Orbilia +or Orbinia or whatever her real name was, it all happened so long ago. +But Minucia and Sextilia and Floronia and the rest were just victims of +judicial ferocity, as far as I can make out.” + +“You are then of the opinion,” the Emperor asked, “that there never was +a guilty Vestal?” + +“No,” Brinnaria replied judicially, “I don’t go as far as that. +Varonilla was probably depraved and with her the two Oculatas. I don’t +think their suicides prove anything against them, for a woman is just as +likely to hang herself because she despairs of a fair hearing as because +she is conscious of guilt. What weighs with me is that they were brought +up in the dissolute times of Messalina and Nero and that their relatives +were leaders of the most profligate set in Rome, cronies of Vitellius +and his coterie. But although Cornelia was bred and raised in the same +social atmosphere, I am quite as sure of her innocence as all the +world was the day she was buried and as everybody has been ever since. +Domitian just murdered her without a trial, for political reasons +and for moral effect. So likewise Marcia and the second Licinia were +judicially murdered by that fierce old Cassius Longinus Ravilla. He was +elected to convict them, not to try them, and he conducted the trial +not to arrive at a fair verdict, but to force a conviction. He had some +excuse, for their acquittal on their former trial had been brought about +by idiotic bribing and family influence. On the face of the evidence +at both trials they were clearly blameless. What ruined them was their +trying to shield Aurelia, surely the worst Vestal on record, for she had +everything in her favor, ancestry, upbringing and surroundings; she +was beyond doubt innately vicious. She was the only Vestal ever justly +convicted and justly punished, in my opinion. All the others were +irreproachable women, doomed to a frightful fate by prejudiced judges. +In general, an accused Vestal is as good as condemned, the whole +population so dreads the results of acquitting an unclean priestess. And +it is the easiest thing in the world for a Vestal to be accused. Refuse +to sell a farm for half its value, snub a bore, order a slave flogged +for some unbearable blunder, and the result is the same; false +accusation with perjured witnesses and a quick conviction most 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 the tragic, +dramatic history of Rome is half so dramatic or a tenth so tragic as the +burial of a Vestal? In all our centuries of ferocity, what seems half so +cruel? + +“I know that cruelty played no part in the invention of burial alive +as a punishment for a convicted Vestal. I know that no caitiff could +be found so vile as to dare to lay hands on a Vestal, no ruffian so +reckless as to venture to end her life by sword or axe, by strangling +or drowning. The most impious miscreant has too much fear of the gods to +injure a consecrated priestess. The only way to dispose of a delinquent +Vestal is to bury her alive. But the cruelty of it makes me choke. I +think of the last hours of each of those who were punished, of their +thoughts as the time drew near, of their feelings alone in the dark +waiting for death to release them from their sufferings. + +“I think of these underground cells as they are now, out there under +that awful unkempt, ragged waste lot by the Colline Gate. I think of the +skeletons mouldering on the mouldering cots, of the bones, the fragments +of crumbling bones, the dust of crumbled bones on the stone floors, as +they have been for hundreds of years, as they will be for thousands of +years to come. The cot cannot 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; +of Floronia there can hardly be left a trace by now, where Minucia died +there can be only an empty stone cell. Do you wonder that the subject +haunts me?” + +“I do and I do not,” Aurelius replied. “I’ve let you relieve your mind +by talking yourself tired. Now listen to me. I think I understand you +perfectly. When you came to me before the novel responsibilities of your +office had worn on your nerves and you were quivering with dread +for fear you might be an unworthy priestess. Now the perils of your +situation are wearing on your nerves 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 the perpetual +danger of assassination. You would be amazed if I detailed to you my +various narrow escapes from death at the hands of disappointed seekers +after preferment, of incompetent officials, of knaves with grievances +of every conceivable and inconceivable variety and of fools with no +grievance at all. You would be astonished if I merely reckoned the +occasions on which I have just missed being killed. It gets on my +nerves, more or less, of course. But I strive to bear up and remain calm +and I succeed more or less. I keep before me the fact that as an +Emperor I am obnoxious to countless hatreds from fancied slights and to +uncountable schemes of revenge. I reflect that the danger is inseparable +from the state of my being an Emperor. I try to be philosophical about +it. + +“So you must attempt to remain placid under the strain of the knowledge +that you are exposed to perpetual danger of a horrible death from +conviction on false accusation. It is part of the condition of being a +Vestal. If anything goes wrong in the way of earthquake, flood, famine, +pestilence, conflagrations or defeats, the populace are likely to cry +out that some Vestal is unclean and bringing down on the Empire the +wrath of the gods. That nothing of the kind has occurred during our +recent afflictions has been clearly due to the holiness of Dossonia and +Causidiena and to their reputation for strict discipline. But the danger +of popular outcry is always real. Then there is the fact that far too +large a proportion of our population are dissolute and that, among the +dissolute-minded, all Vestals are under suspicion because they are the +only women among our nobility who remain unmarried long after they have +reached marriageable years. You must learn to take all this as a matter +of course and to go sedately about your duties. + +“Of course, I lessen my danger by keeping about me many trusty guards. +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. If you were accused +before me it would take notably plain and convincing evidence to make +me believe anything against you. I shall put my opinion of you on record +among my papers of instructions to my successor. I shall declare it to +all the Chief Pontiffs. I shall verbally and in writing make it clear to +all concerned that you seem to me all you should be, that you are in an +unusually difficult and delicate position and that in case of accusation +all presumption should be in favor of your innocence and against the +sincerity of your accusers. + +“And now I think that ought to satisfy you and cover all the general +considerations. Let us come to the special consideration that interests +me chiefly. You have never come to me because you became gradually +unnerved by brooding which had no specific origin or cause: + +“Tell me plainly and outspokenly what has happened to you lately to +fill your mind with thoughts of buried Vestals, trials, accusations and +terrors?” + +Brinnaria thereupon related her encounter with Calvaster and her +conversation with Flexinna. + +The Emperor stroked his beard and reflected. + +“I have never liked Calvaster,” he said, “and if I had been in the city +to consider recommendations for appointments he would, assuredly, never +have become a member of Rome’s hierarchy. I deem him gravely unsuited +for even the most minor grade of Pontiff. He appears to me to be +mean-spirited, narrow-minded and base. I am inclined to believe of him +all that you impute. But, even to such as Calvaster, we should be just. +You complained, a while ago, that the judges of the Vestals had ignored +both the facts and the evidence. Let us weigh the evidence and stick +to the facts. The only fact you present is that you caught Calvaster +lurking in your house. You confess that you were completely puzzled as +to what motive brought him there. Your friend surmises an explanation +which disgusts, insults and alarms you. You instantly credit it +completely, think and act as if it were unquestionably true. I am +prejudiced against Calvaster, as I have told you, yet I am by no means +ready to admit that your beliefs about him are evidence against +him, more particularly as they rest solely on Flexinna’s ingenious +conjectures. The notion is plausible and it is entirely congruent with +Calvaster’s character as I imagine it. Yet it is, after all, merely +a plausible surmise. I am just as inclined to accept Calvaster’s own +explanation; he is an inquisitive busybody. + +“My verdict is that you need feel no alarm.” + +“But I do,” Brinnaria maintained; “I do not feel safe with Calvaster +anywhere about.” + +The Emperor reflected. + +“The peace of mind of a Vestal,” he said, “is a matter of such +importance to the state that I should not hesitate about ordering +Calvaster banished to some comfortable and healthy island and there +detained permanently, were it not that the fellow has made himself +almost indispensable. The pestilence has carried off practically all the +adepts at interpretation of the sacred writings, the prophetic books, +the rubrics and rituals of the various temples, the statutes of +the brotherhoods and other orders of the hierarchy. Only Numerius +Aproniarius remains of the older experts, and he is afflicted by an +incurable and loathsome disease which he cannot long survive. Of the +younger men only Calvaster has displayed any aptitude for learning this +delicate and complex art, only he has attained any reputation. He is, in +the circumstances, indispensable, I cannot banish him merely to please +you. You will have to endure Calvaster.” + +Brinnaria pulled a wry face, as in her mutinous girlhood. She felt +entirely at ease with Aurelius. + +“I perceive that I must endure him,” she said, “but if you cannot banish +Calvaster, perhaps you’ll oblige me by banishing Almo.” + +“Almo!” the Emperor exclaimed, “what can you have against that gallant +lad? Have you turned against him? I thought you were unshakably resolved +to marry him, thought you loved him unalterably!” + +“I shall marry him, if we both live,” Brinnaria replied, “and most +unalterably love him. But I love life and daylight and fresh air and my +full meals even more. I have a splendid appetite, I loath stuffy places, +I hate the dark. The idea of being shut in an underground cell to +suffocate slowly or starve to death even more slowly goes against my +gorge. I see myself in my mind’s eye climbing down that ladder, like +poor Cornelia, I see myself stretched out on my cot, watching the ladder +being pulled up by the executioner, watching the workmen fitting in the +last stone of the vault. I imagine myself staring at the wick of the +lamp and wondering how long the oil will last and debating whether it +would be better to blow out the light and save the oil to drink and +so live longer in the dark, or to let the lamp burn out and have the +discomfort of the light a little longer. I fancy myself conning over +the trifle of bread, milk, fruit and wine left on the stone slab, and +speculating as to how long they’ll keep me alive. + +“Bah! + +“No burial alive for me. + +“Acquittal on a trial is a poor way for a Vestal to escape the worst +possible fate, a last resort, at best, and an unchancy reliance, even as +a last resort. A far better way is never to be tried, 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’d be predisposed to favor me in all +possible ways and that you’ll give instructions as to your opinion of +me. Any directions of yours would be respected by any heir of yours. But +you yourself have just remarked how slender is an Emperor’s hold on life +or on power. I may survive both yourself and your son. I might be tried +before men we should never think of now. I must arrange so that I shall +never be tried at all, I must live so that I shall never be accused. + +“Now I am unlikely ever to be accused in relation to any man except +Almo. Everybody knows I mean to marry Almo when my service is at an end, +everybody knows he means to marry me, everybody knows we are in love +with each other. That puts me in the most delicate position any Vestal +ever was placed in. I have been extremely careful. I have never spoken +to Almo since I was taken for a Vestal, have never met him except by +accident, have never set eyes on him except against my will; have never +even written a letter to him or received one from him. I have been, I +think, wise, judicious and controlled. But Almo has not behaved well +towards me.” + +“Indeed!” Aurelius interjected. “You surprise me! What has he done?” + +Brinnaria flushed. + +“A girl in love,” she said, “is a fool, but she has sense enough to +conceal her foolishness. A man is different. I suppose men are made that +way and can’t help themselves. But a man in love is not only a fool, but +he parades his foolishness. Almo sent me messages by all sorts of mutual +acquaintances, by his people and mine, by Flexinna, by Nemestronia, by +Vocco, begging me to exchange letters with him. I was angry and said +so and repeatedly sent him word that he was most foolish and most +inconsiderate. I sent him word that if he wanted to please me he’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 that all his relatives +are dead and he is his own master he has come to Rome. If he had any +real consideration for me he’d go to Aquileia, at least he might be +satisfied with a popular resort like Baiae or a place like Capua; Capua +has enough baths and shows and horse-races and gladiators for anybody. + +“But he must come to Rome, when a spark of sense and decency would tell +him to keep as far away as he could. It stands to reason that I could +never be accused of misconduct with him if he had never been within a +hundred miles of me since I was taken for a Vestal. + +“But he must needs come to Rome. He has opened his house on the Carinae +and had it put in order and has settled down to such a life here as is +usual with wealthy leisured idlers. He has bought additional furniture, +as if his father’s house wasn’t stuffed with everything magnificent, he +has bought curios and antiques and statuary and pictures and books. He +spends most of his time in the barracks of his favorite gladiatorial +company or at the stables of the Greens, and the rest of it at the +afternoon baths. I sent Vocco to him to protest and to urge him to leave +Rome for my sake. The selfish wretch said he loved me and always would, +but he just could not live anywhere except at Rome. He stays here, in +defiance of my wishes and against all reason.” + +“That is not what I should have expected of him,” the Emperor meditated. +“I am surprised and far from pleased. I shall certainly find means to +relieve your mind as far as he is concerned.” + +“There is worse yet to tell,” Brinnaria went on. “You’d think that, if +he must stay in Rome he’d at least have the decency to keep away from +me and from places where he is likely to encounter me. He does just +the reverse. He haunts me, he waylays me. He prowls up and down the Via +Sacra and the Via Nova, he stands in the moonlight and stares up at the +outside windows of the Atrium; on festival days he waits outside of our +entrance to the Colosseum or of the Circus Maximus to watch me enter; on +any day he loiters about the portal of the Atrium to watch me come out +to my 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 enough from +anybody in his position, from him it is ten times worse than from anyone +else. You know how individual Almo is, how almost peculiar he looks, +how no one would mistake him for anyone else or forget him or fail to +recognize him. I have often tried to analyze the factors that go to +make him look so striking, but I cannot. He is perfectly proportioned +in every measurement, yet, somehow, he has a long-armed and long-legged +appearance different from that of any young man in Rome, he gives almost +the effect of reminding one of a spider or of a grasshopper or of +a daddy-long-legs. It makes him the most conspicuous, the most +recognizable man 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 and quicker.” + +“You are right,” Aurelius mused, “I never thought of that, but Almo is +unforgettable, striking and arresting to the eye beyond any lad in our +nobility.” + +“And being what he is,” Brinnaria raged, “he must needs arrange that +nearly every crowd I am in should see him at the same time as me. +Already thousands of reputable Romans must remember seeing us at the +same glance. Before long the majority will be ready to recall, if the +subject is broached, that they have habitually seen him wherever they +saw me. Some one will start the talk and presently all Rome will buzz +with the gossip that we are continually seen together. A charming state +of affairs for me if some busybody or some enemy of mine raises the +question of my fitness for my holy duties! I have protested. I’ve had +Vocco go to Almo and urge all these considerations on him, and the silly +boy says he can’t live without seeing me, that he longs for the sight +of me so he cannot control himself. How’s that 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 one object on earth which he must behold or +die. I’ve no patience with such imbecility.” + +“And I have very little,” said the Emperor; “just enough to imagine a +better way of disburdening you and of disposing of Almo than banishing +him would be. The lad is far too good to be wasting his time with the +horse-jockeys and charioteers and ostlers of the Greens, or brutalizing +himself with the companionship of ruffianly prize-fighters, belonging to +this or that speculator in the flesh of ferocious savages. He must find +some outlet for his energies and interests and is carried away by the +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 between him and +you and so put your mind at rest. I’ll make a man of him at 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, not relegate him to Britain or Dacia +or Syria. I’ll send him to Africa to chase the desert nomads who are +harrying the borders of Numidia and Mauretania. He can gain credit there +without danger, can learn to command men and to know the great game +of war. Nepte and Bescera are pleasant little cities--he will be +comfortable between campaigns. I’ll see he sets out the day after +to-morrow, at latest.” + + + +CHAPTER XI - FAREWELL + + +Two days later, Brinnaria had a visit from Flexinna. Flexinna’s eyes +were dancing. + +“G-G-Guess where I’ve been,” she challenged. + +“I’m not good at guessing,” Brinnaria parried; “better tell me.” + +“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 he wanted +t-t-to see you again and that, as a formal visit from the Emperor +as P-P-Pontifex Maximus at the Atrium was unusual and was likely to +c-c-cause g-g-gossip, whereas you Vestals are c-c-continually at the +Palace to ask favors for all sorts of people who p-p-pester you to use +your influence with the Emperor, he thought 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 you as unobtrusively as p-p-possible and +d-d-desired p-p-particularly that 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 was sure I would never t-t-tell anybody. + +“B-B-Better send along your application for an audience. It was +p-p-plain to me that he has something agreeable to t-t-tell you. His +face was just as g-g-grave as usual but his eyes sparkled at me, +as d-d-different as p-p-possible from their habitual dull filmed +appearance. He was all k-k-kindliness and anticipation.” + +“I’m willing to take the hint, of course,” Brinnaria replied. + +Next morning she found Aurelius most cordial and informal in his +greeting to her. + +“I’ve been investigating Almo,” he said, “and I am more than pleased +with all I can learn of him. I see no reason for not telling you that, +from the very day you were taken as a Vestal, some of the most expert, +secret and trustworthy men in the employ of the information department +have had no other duties than to keep close watch upon you and Almo. I +have been over all the papers relating to him and to you, I have talked +with the men themselves. They all assure me that never once have you and +Almo met since he reached your father’s house a half hour too late. They +also report that, in the course of his injudicious moonings about your +haunts, he has always kept at a respectful distance. And except for +those same loverly danglings about places where he might catch glimpses +of you, I can find nothing against the lad. Everybody speaks most highly +of him. His former tutors and preceptors are enthusiastic in their +laudations of his capacities, abilities, diligence and attainments in +all matters pertaining to books and study. About Falerii he was regarded +as a fine specimen of a young nobleman, huntsman and swimmer, good at +all rustic sports, as haughty as the proudest when he was given good +cause to assert himself, but habitually affable, unassuming and sunny +tempered. Towards his father’s tenants and slaves he was most kindly +and nothing could be more to any man’s credit than his downright heroic +behavior from the very day the pestilence appeared on his estates, all +through the frightful period of its raging about Falerii, until the +neighborhood had somewhat recovered after the plague had abated. + +“The most extraordinary feature of the reports about him is that they +all agree as to his amazing devotion to you. All persons who know him +or know of him are unanimous in the opinion that he has never taken the +slightest personal interest in any human being except yourself; all are +emphatic in stating that he has certainly never manifested any affection +for anyone else. This is unprecedented. I never heard of such another +case. There is nothing astonishing about a young Roman declaring that +he would remain unmarried for thirty years in order to mate, ultimately, +with the girl of his choice. There is nothing wonderful about his +keeping his word. But any other youth I ever heard of would have +consoled himself variously, and variedly. Almo’s austere celibacy is a +portent in our world and altogether marvellous. It lifts his affair with +you out of the humdrum atmosphere of to-day and puts it on a level with +the legendary stories of heroic times, with the life-long fidelities of +the Milesian tales. + +“Under the stress of such severe and unflinching self isolation I do +not wonder that his broodings drove him to overstep the bounds of common +sense, that he was irresistibly compelled to leave Falerii, to come to +Rome, to loiter where he might, at least, behold you at a distance. I +shall make sure that he does so no longer. This very day he sets out for +Carthage, Theveste and the deserts to the south beyond the lagoons of +Nepte. But I cannot be angry with him for being unable to restrain his +longing at least to set eyes on you. And I see no reason why you two, +who have not exchanged a word in more than nine years, should not +meet here in this room and say farewell to each other before I put the +Mediterranean between you.” + +Brinnaria sprang up. + +“I see many reasons,” she declared, “and my feelings are all against +seeing Almo until my service as a Vestal is ended.” + +“I can well believe,” came the answer, “that you feel that way at the +first presentation of the idea. But I am your Emperor and also Chief +Pontiff of Rome. I am engaged at present in solving the problem of ow +best to ensure peace of mind to one of Rome’s Vestals. To ensure her +peace of mind I am about to relegate her future husband to important +duties on a far frontier of the Empire. I judge that he will better +perform his duties, that she will better perform hers, if she bids +him farewell in my presence. I am a lover of wisdom and a student of +wisdom.* I believe I possess some pretensions to wisdom. Will you not +defer to me in this? I am of the opinion that he will worry less about +you and you less about him if you see each other once before your twenty +years of certain separation begins.” + + *The wisdom of Marcus Aurelius was recognized during his + lifetime and is highly regarded even today, over 1900 years + later. His book, _Meditations_, remains in print and is + available through Project Gutenberg.--PG Ed. + +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 ushered in. After his formal +salute to the Emperor he stood silent, his eyes fixed on Brinnaria. + +They made a fine picture. The ceiling of the immense hall was a +barrel-vault, of which the beams were stuccoed in cream-white, picked +out with gilding, while between them the depth of each soffit was +colored an intense deep blue, against which stood out a great gilt +rosette. The mighty pilasters, whose gilded capitals supported the +vaulting, were of many-veined dark yellow marble, polished and gleaming +like the slabs of pale yellow marble which panelled the interspaces. The +high-moulded wainscot was of red and green porphyry, somberly smooth +and shining. Against it, below the wall-panels, were set great chests +of carved and gilded wood, while about the bases of the pilasters were +placed groups of settees and armchairs, similarly carved and gilded +and richly upholstered. The floor was paved with an intricate mosaic +of parti-colored bits of marble, its expanse broken only by the great +gorgeous carpet before the throne, by the chair set for Brinnaria, by +the onyx table, supported on sculptured monsters like griffons, beside +the throne, and by the throne itself, a curule seat of ivory mounted +with gold, its crimson cushion glowing, set far out in the room. + +Before the throne stood Aurelius, his head bare, the long ringlets of +his hair and beard sweeping his shoulders and his bosom, one foot a +trifle advanced, the gold eagle embroidered on his 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 of the time imposed upon even a +philosophically austere Emperor; on his right Brinnaria, erect and tense +in her white official habit, her square white headdress all but hiding +her coronet of dark braids, her veil pushed back from her flushed face; +the tassels and ribbons of her head-band, her great pearl necklace, the +big pearl brooch that fastened the folds of her headdress where they +crossed on her breast, and the bunch of fresh white flowers which it +clasped, rising and falling with the heaving of her bosom; facing +her, splendid in the gilded armor and scarlet cloak of a commander 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 on my recent +folly. I am sincerely ashamed of myself and I wish to apologize to you +for my lack of self-control and for my lack of consideration for you. I +leave Rome before sunset and shall not return until I may return without +danger to you.” + +Aurelius looked at Brinnaria. + +“Caius,” she said, “I forgive you. I trust that you will win promotion +and honor where you are going and I am sure that you will do your duty +to the Empire. May the blessing of all the gods be 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 have been +thinking over what you said about Almo’s peculiar notability of looks. +It puzzles me as it puzzles you. He is not merely of distinguished +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 lately about the stables of the Greens. +They all say that he is, in fact, as normally proportioned as any youth +alive, but they confirm what you said about his long-legged appearance. +Julianus used almost the same word you used, said Almo looked +‘Grasshoppery.’ They all say Almo is precisely the most unmistakable, +the most readily and quickly recognizable youth in all our young +nobility.” + +Brinnaria rose to go. Aurelius bent on her a kindly smile. + +“I have been talking about you with Faustina,” he said. “We are both +much interested by the strangeness of your fate, by the difficulty and +delicacy of your situation and by the wonderful constancy of you both. +Faustina and I are a most united pair, never happy out of each other’s +company and very proud of our domestic felicity. We are, if I may +use the word, rather prone to gloat over it, and, while continually +congratulating ourselves and each other, we cannot but mourn the +infrequency of such happiness throughout our Italian nobility. There +are few matrons in Rome as serenely happy as your friend Flexinna, few +indeed who find all their happiness in children, husband and household. +And of those who really enjoy their homes most are remarried after a +divorce, or even after two or more. Our society suffers from a plague +worse than the pestilence itself, a plague of greed for excitement, +eagerness for novelty, of peevishness and fickleness. + +“In this unhealthy atmosphere such households as Vocco’s are most +notable. And that you, who seem by nature fitted for just such +blessedness as has befallen Flexinna, should have been robbed of it by +a strange series of peculiar circumstances wins for you our interest +and our solicitude. Still more are our hearts drawn towards you by your +unwavering fidelity, alike to your present duties and all that they +imply and to that love which you have had to put away and forget, to the +ideal of that felicity which you have had to postpone so far. + +“Faustina desires an interview with you. She is now in the amber +gallery. I shall have you conducted there, if you do not object.” + +Brinnaria could not very well object and after an equerry, very stately +in his garb of duty, and two gaudily clad pages had escorted her through +what seemed like miles of corridors, she found herself alone with the +Empress. + +The Empress she had so far seen infrequently and spoken with only +seldom. It was impossible to be a Vestal, in the heyday of Rome’s +Imperial times, and not meet and know the Empress of Rome. Brinnaria +had seen her whenever they were both present at the Circus or the +Amphitheatre; had been close to her at all important state functions; +had occasionally dined with her at formal Palace banquets, when the +curved sofa about the Empress’ table was always occupied by the Empress, +the wives of the chief Flamens and the Vestals; but had hardly ever +exchanged a word with her. + +Faustina was endowed with the general healthiness with which Roman +noblewomen were blessed. But she had had the bad luck to suffer from +many and severe illnesses. These and her slow recoveries from them had +kept her away from very many official functions and public festivals. +Numerous had been the occasions on which Aurelius had appeared without +her. When she was well, indeed, they were always together, if possible. +A great proportion of his time, however, was occupied with official +duties of such a nature that, according to Roman etiquette, no woman +could participate in them. During such enforced separations Faustina +sought amusement. And with the overflowing energy and abounding vigor +which she displayed between her illness, she threw herself into +the whirl of her pleasures with such impetuosity, there was so much +rollicking and roistering about her favorite diversions that she +attracted to herself and kept around her just those elements of Roman +society with which the Vestals were least likely to mingle, professional +idlers, and what 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 her coiffures, which made +the most of her magnificent hair. Her hair Brinnaria noticed the moment +her eyes fell on her. + +Her habitual expression of haughtiness and boredom had vanished from the +Empress’s face and she was all kindliness and solicitude. + +Faustina put her at her ease at once. + +“I have always been so sorry,” she began, “that I was ill the day you +climbed over the balustrade of the podium and rescued the retiarius. +I’ve missed many a sight I regretted, I miss so much by falling ill +again and again, but I never missed a sight I regretted missing more +than that. Nothing more worth seeing ever happened in the Colosseum.” + +“I was terribly ashamed when I found what I had done,” said Brinnaria. + +“Of course you were,” the Empress agreed. + +This broke the ice between them and Faustina led her into a long +talk about all her past, her love affair, her life as a Vestal, her +bereavements, her embarrassing circumstances, her future, her hopes. + +Brinnaria left the Empress, feeling that she had found a real friend and +also feeling comforted at heart. + + + +CHAPTER XII -OBSERVANCES + + +BRINNARIA found that, with Almo definitely and permanently out of the +way, she did not worry about Calvaster. She also found that she did +not worry about Almo and that her glimpse of him had rather calmed +her feelings. She confessed as much to Aurelius when she had a third +audience with him before he left for the Rhine frontier, and she thanked +him for his insistence. + +With her mind at peace Brinnaria settled more and more into the routine +of her life and enjoyed it more and more. + +She came to feel keenly the spiritual significance of every detail of +the ritual observances in which she took part. Besides the maintenance +of the sacred fire, the Vestals had many obligatory duties. Every +sacrifice of the Roman public worship involved the sprinkling of the +sacred meal upon the head of the victim, if a live animal was offered, +or upon the fire, if the sacrifice was bloodless. Early in each ceremony +one of the small boys assisting the priest carried around to all the +participants in the act of worship a maple-wood box containing the holy +meal; from it each worshipper ladled a small portion into the palm of +his right hand; at a specified point in the course of the ceremonial +each participant sprinkled the meal as prescribed. + +The holy meal was made of very coarsely ground wheat, a sort of +grits, salted and toasted. It was prepared by the Vestals according +to immemorial custom. They were supplied with a sufficient quantity of +heads of wheat, the best of the produce of two of their estates, one +near Caere, the other near Lanuvium. These wheat ears were packed in +baskets and stored on the farms in dry, airy barns. There they were +kept drying and hardening their grains until the next spring. Then the +allotted baskets were brought into Rome. On the seventh of May, after +a ceremonial of prayer, the three elder Vestals began going over these +wheat-ears, sorting out those entirely perfect, and placing them in +larger baskets shaped like the big earthen jars in which the Romans +commonly tored wheat, olives, oil, wine and other similar supplies. +On the next day the wheat from the first day’s selection of ears was +separated from the straw, beards and chaff, was roasted and coarsely +ground. The resultant groats were then put away in great earthen jars in +the outer storeroom of the temple. On the third day they again selected +wheat ears, on the fourth they again prepared wheat-grits, and so on +alternately for eight days. By the evening of the eighth day they had +stored enough groats to make the sacred meal for one year’s ceremonies +of the entire Roman ritual. + +The salt with which they salted the holy meal was prepared with similar +invariable formality. Crude salt, obtained from evaporated sea-water +out of the sand-pits on the seashore near Lavinium, was conveyed to +the Atrium in small two-handled earthenware jars. This coarse, dirty, +dark-colored salt was dissolved by the three younger Vestals in boiling +water, which water might not be obtained from the lead pipes which +connected the Atrium with the general water-supply of the city’s +aqueducts, but must be drawn by the Vestals themselves and carried by +them in the earthenware jars from the famous fountain of Jaturna, at +which Castor and Pollux were fabled to have watered their white horses +after bringing to Rome the news of the victory at Lake Regillus. The +solution was purified by repeated boilings, the impurities being gotten +rid of by successive careful decantings of the liquid from one vessel +into another, so that the sediment might be left behind as the top +part was poured off. When sufficiently boiled down the solution was +recrystallized in shallow earthenware pans. The resulting slabs of +salt were harder than the pans and were freed from them by breaking the +earthenware with an ancient stone hammer, said to have been captured by +AEneas himself from a king of Ardea. The slabs of salt were sawed into +pieces with an iron saw, the pieces were pounded in a mortar, the fine +salt was thrown into an earthenware bowl and dried out in a kiln. When +dried a little powdered gypsum was stirred through it to prevent it from +again becoming moist. It was then stored in a tall jar with a tight lid, +which was kept in the outer storeroom of the temple, along with the jars +of meal. Three times a year, on the ninth of June, on the thirteenth +of September and on the fifteenth of February, with solemn prayers the +Vestals mixed the prepared salt with the prepared grits, the resultant +mixture being the sacred meal. + +On each First of March the fire in the temple was allowed to go out and +was solemnly rekindled by the friction of maple wood on apple wood, as +when the fire went out by accident. The temple was then decorated with +fresh boughs of green laurel, after the boughs put up the year before +had been removed. + +On May fifteenth the Vestals were the chief figures in a solemn +procession of the entire Roman hierarchy to the Sublician bridge, from +which the Vestals threw into the Tiber thirty dolls made of rushes, +fifteen representing men, fifteen women, each about two feet high. + +This offering to the river of effigies of men and women commemorated the +primitive human sacrifices by which the river was each year placated, +that it might not drown more by floods. + +On June fifth the inner storeroom of the temple was opened and its +treasures inspected by the Pontifex wearing his antique vestments. With +him entered always also the Chief Vestal clad in her austere habit with +all her badges of office. They were attended by the other Vestals, who +went through traditional pacings, haltings and prayers. The Temple of +Vesta was an enclosure from which all men were rigidly excluded. +The only exceptions to this immemorial taboo were a few of the more +important Pontiffs, and they might only enter on specified festal days, +and then must be in their full regalia. Also, in general, the temple was +closed against all women except the Vestals and their assistants. It was +open, however, from sunrise on the morning of each seventh of June until +sunset on the evening of the fourteenth of June. During this period +it was incumbent upon every Roman matron to visit the temple. And each +worshipper must walk the entire distance from her home to the temple and +must leave her house barefoot, barefoot she must walk from the temple to +her home. Only illness excused a Roman woman from this religious 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 of Vesta, +on the ninth of June, on which day also all millers kept holiday, with +processions and picnics to which the mill-donkeys were led decorated +with wreaths of flowers and strings of tiny, crisp-baked rolls. + +On June fifteenth the temple was ceremonially cleaned and the sweepings +and the ashes collected from the sacred fire for the year past were +solemnly carried in a stately procession to a prescribed spot on the +slope of the Capitol where a great pit was closed by a heavy maple-wood +door. In this pit the ashes were reverently buried. + +Besides these observances of their special cult the Vestals took part in +nearly every important sacrifice, procession and festival of the public +worship of Rome. They were busy women and among them Brinnaria was +anything but idle. She never found time hang 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 the Atrium from Brinnaria’s +point of view. That drawback was Meffia. Meffia was never ill but never +well. Everything tired her. It tired her to walk upstairs, to stand for +any length of time, to do anything. She was forever sitting down to +rest or lying down to rest. Excitement exhausted her totally. She was a +perpetual worry to the other Vestals. + +Otherwise Brinnaria was very happy. Through Flexinna she had frequent +news of Almo. Ancient Rome had no institution, public or private, in any +way corresponding to our post office. But routes of trade and travel by +land and sea were well defined and traffic along them fairly regular, on +the most used routes almost continual. There were private organizations, +vaguely resembling our modern express companies, which forwarded +merchandise along the main-travelled routes and even into remote +regions. Their messengers took charge of bales, boxes and packages of +all sizes and also of letters. The service on the roads of Africa, +from Bescera, Nepte and Putea along the frontier of the desert, through +Lambese, Capsa and Thysdrus, to Carthage, by well-built vehicles with +frequent relays of horses on the excellent highroads was fairly +good. The ships from Sicily plied with almost the regularity of our +ocean-liners. Roads and road-service in Sicily were of a high quality of +excellence. The transit to Italy at Messina was a sort of ferry. Italy +was served by a network of roads always busy. Almo’s letters to Flexinna +were fairly regular and Vocco heard frequently from his friends among +Almo’s brother officers and sometimes from his military superiors. + +Almo was an immediate and brilliant success as a leader of scouting +expeditions, cavalry dashes, and, within a year, of raids in +considerable force. His men adored him at once; his fellow-officers +found him excellent company, unassuming and companionable, his +commanders came early to rely on him. He won an excellent reputation and +was universally regarded as a young officer of great promise, likely to +rise to high position and not unlikely to become famous. + +This kind of news delighted Brinnaria and promoted her peace of mind. In +great contentment she went about her duties, loving them more and +more from month to month, preparing the blessed salt, assisting at +sacrifices, participating in processions. + +Also interest in music and enjoyment of music came to play more and more +a part in her spiritual life. As a child she had hated music and had +been in continual conflict with her musical governesses. Even after she +entered the Atrium her aversion to learning anything about music had +given Causidiena a great deal of trouble. Later Brinnaria was docile, +but the reverse of enthusiastic. Only after Almo’s departure for Africa +did music begins to mean anything to her. + +But one keyed instrument was known to the ancients. That was a form of +organ, in effect and appearance not very dissimilar to a small portable +modern organ, with one bank of keys. Its mechanism, however, was very +different in respect to the construction of the pipe stops and bellows. +In particular, the steady flow of air to the pipes was obtained from +the pressure of water, and a receptacle partly filled with water was an +essential part of every Roman organ. From this feature it was called +the water-organ. The Emperor Nero had been a notable performer on the +water-organ and had interested himself in some improvements in its +mechanism. + +As with the modern organ, so with the Roman water-organ, the sonorous, +sustained and resonant notes lent themselves naturally to the expression +of religious emotion. + +Religious emotions, Brinnaria, at this period of her life, felt to an +overwhelming extent. She expressed them in long colloquies with Numisia +and Causidiena, in a tendency to be unnecessarily careful about her +duties, to pet her daily routine, as it were; and in an awakening to +the charms of music in general and of organ music in particular. She +developed into a capable performer on the water-organ, bought for +herself the finest to be found in all Rome, had it set up in the Atrium +in place of the old one which had belonged to the order of Vestals, and +sat before it for hours at a time. + +Her solitary communings with her favorite instrument became her chief +solace when she was: low-spirited, which was seldom, and her favorite +diversion when she was high-spirited, which was often. Moreover, her +rendition of well-known airs and he improvisings came to be a great +pleasure to all the inmates of the Atrium, most of all to Causidiena. + +Besides her many duties and her indoor amusements, Brinnaria found +time for much activity outside the Atrium. She had kept up her girlish +friendship for the sieve-maker Truttidius, and saw him occasionally, +sometimes ordering her litter halted before his shop and leaning out to +ask after his health and that of his family. Truttidius had an ailing +household, though he himself was always well and never seemed to get any +older. + +From her talks with Truttidius she came to take a personal interest +in the welfare of the countless tenants in her many properties in the +poorer quarters of the city. She visited some of them-a sort of approach +to modern slumming by the philanthropic rich. Such actions on the part +of a landowner and such an attitude of mind from any rich person toward +the poor was very unusual in the ancient world. Her behavior in this +regard won Brinnaria a sort of fame among the poor, as if she were a +live goddess moving among them. + +She had a healthy love of mere enjoyment too. Except when she happened +to be on duty watching the sacred fire, she never missed a theatrical +performance, a gladiatorial display or an exhibition of chariot-racing +in anyone of the vast race-courses flanked by tiers of stone-seats, +which the Romans called circuses. At all shows, whether of scenic +artists, fighting men or speeding horses, the Vestals had specified +seats, as good as the best. + +Besides these formal pleasures, she took great delight in mixing in +society merely for society’s sake. Moderns are likely to imagine that +the Vestals of ancient Rome were nuns or something like nuns. They were +nothing of the sort. They were maiden ladies of wealth and position +whose routine duties brought them into familiar association with all the +men important in the Roman government, hierarchy, nobility and gentry +and with their wives and daughters. They were women of such importance +in their world that their acquaintance was sought by all who had any +pretensions to being entitled to meet them and by shoals of social +bounders who had none. Their influence was so powerful that they were +unremittingly sought, waylaid, pursued and besieged by persons who hoped +to enlist their interest in the appointment or promotion of this, that +or the other connection or relative; by the same persons they were +continually overwhelmed with presents of flowers, fruit, delicacies, +dainties, ornaments, laces, garments, pieces of furniture, horses, +slaves, and of anything and everything capable of being made a present +of in the Roman world; likewise with social invitations-chiefly to +dinners, banquets and feasts. Invitations to banquets and dinners +Brinnaria seldom declined, unless her duties made acceptance impossible +or the invitation came from people beneath her notice. As she had +said to Aurelius, she had an excellent appetite. She had an epicurean +tendency from her early years and was fond of oysters, sweetbreads, +eels, thrushes, turbot and other articles of food esteemed as delicacies +by the Romans. But she was a hearty eater and consumed generous portions +of roast meats, particularly of pork, which even in late imperial times +was the staple of Roman diet. She never lost her childish relish for +boiled pork and cabbage, for bacon, for ham, hot or cold. She was by +no means a glutton, ate deliberately and daintily, and while she ate, +joined in the general conversation or even led it. She had a quick wit +and a sharp tongue and her sallies were acclaimed. She was sought after +as a guest not merely because she was a Vestal, but for herself, for her +gaiety and her unexpected utterances. + +On the whole she preferred informal dinners to formal banquets and +liked better to dine with her friends than with the most luxurious +entertainers in Roman society. + +With Vocco and Flexinna she dined frequently, three times a month +at least and generally oftener. Brinnaria loved children, +especially babies, and there was always a baby in the Istorian +household--Flexinna’s babies were all healthy and grew famously. Of the +six children, Brinnaria could not have told which she loved or which +loved her most. Her arrivals were always heralded with shouts of glee, +her romps with the children always put her in a good humor, her swim +with Flexinna sharpened an appetite which needed no edge, while the +cosiness and informality of Flexinna’s dining-room, where each of the +three had undivided possession of one entire sofa, made it certain that +nothing marred her enjoyment. + + + +CHAPTER XIII - PERVERSITY + + +ABOUT three years after her farewell to Almo, on entering Vocco’s house +one afternoon, Brinnaria had a presentiment of something wrong. The +children were as vociferous and as whimsical as usual, but there was +a nameless difference in Flexinna’s expression and bearing. As soon as +they were alone in their 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 as well tell +me.” + +But Flexinna put her off and laughed at her insistence. + +To Brinnaria the laughter seemed forced and so did the talk at dinner. +No sooner was the dinner over and the tray of figs, almonds and +pomegranates and other fruit on the table, than she whispered to +Flexinna: + +“Tell the servants to stay out. I want to talk.” Flexinna signed to +Vocco and they exchanged glances. + +“Why did you keep up the farce so long?” Brinnaria sneered. “I saw +through it from the first.” + +“We were afraid,” Vocco apologized, “that what I have to tell you 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 cut in, “is +amazing. Leave out the comments and tell the story.” + +“While Almo was away on the expedition against the nomads of the +plateau,” Vocco narrated, “Pennasius fell ill, was allowed to resign his +governorship and Grittonius took his place. On Almo’s return Grittonius +complimented him most highly and promised him any reward he asked for. +Almo amazed him by asking for a full and honorable discharge from the +army. Grittonius expostulated with him but Almo held him to his promise. +In spite of the governor’s appeals to his pride and to his patriotism he +insisted, and Grittonius gave him his full official discharge. At +once Almo applied for permission to sell himself as a slave. This so +astounded Grittonius that he made him repeat the application before +witnesses and give his reasons. Almo explained that he had always been +devoted to horseracing and that he wanted formally and regularly to +article himself to one of the racing companies as a charioteer; that he +had always craved that life and had longed 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 most reputed +physicians of the province. They reported Almo entirely sane. Grittonius +wanted to hold the matter over until he had special permission from the +Emperor. Almo craftily maintained that Grittonius had been made governor +with the fullest powers on all lines specifically to save the Emperor +from being bothered about such trifles. Grittonius yielded. The +necessary papers were drawn up, all the depositions were made out in +duplicate. Every formality was fulfilled and Almo was publicly sold as a +slave in the market place of Hippo.” + +“What company did he enter?” Brinnaria queried. + +“Veppius did not state,” Vocco replied; “he merely said that Almo sailed +the next day for Spain.” + +“The fool!” Brinnaria cried. “The three fools; a fool of a Veppius to +write so vaguely, a fool of a governor to be persuaded so easily and +Almo the biggest fool of all! + +“What a fool of a lover I have! Are all men like that? I’m as much in +love with him as he with me and I can behave myself decently and keep +outwardly calm and observe the conventions of life. Why can’t he be +decent? How can it comfort a man in love to throw away a splendid +career, abandon a great income and vanish from the ken of all who love +him? What madness is this with which the gods afflict him? Oh, I could +tear my hair with rage!” + +To trace Almo everything was done that could be done. Vocco himself +set out at once for Hippo. He found that Almo had been sold to a Greek +slave-dealer named Olynthides, brother of the well-known dealer at Rome. +He found Olynthides a small man with a club-foot. He said he remembered +the matter, that he had been employed to buy Almo and resell him for +cash, especially to conceal the real purchaser. + +When Vocco expressed astonishment Olynthides said: + +“There is nothing to be surprised at, the thing happens every day. It is +a regular feature of slave-trading. There are all sorts of reasons why +a man wants a slave without any past. Such sales 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 are always knots of people +coming in all day, looking over the slaves I offer for sale, and going +out again. He came in like anybody else and looked over my stock. When +he spoke to me he had a servant with him carrying a stout leather bag. +He indicated Almo and asked his price. I named it. + +“‘Cash sale,’ says he; ‘no papers except a bare sale certificate.’ + +“‘Done,’ says I. + +“He counted out the cash from his servant’s bag and I gave him the +customary certificate, with a description of Almo and the statement: + +“‘Sold on this day and date for cash’ and my signature and seal. 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 came from Cadiz. Vocco could +not discover anyone in Hippo who had ever heard of a slave-dealer named +Jegius. + +When Vocco returned to Rome with his report Brinnaria set in motion all +the forces of her world which could be utilized under the circumstances. +Aurelius was on the Rhine frontier, but Brinnaria had, by this time, a +close acquaintance with all important court officers and was on terms +of the utmost cordiality with the officials who governed Rome in the +Emperor’s absence. They sympathized with her and put at her disposal +all the machinery of the government secret service. They agreed with +her that the matter must be kept quiet, there must be no proclamations, +posters, no rewards offered by crier or placard, no publishing of +descriptions. With emphatic injunctions of secrecy they sent warnings to +every provincial governor, to every local magistrate, to the aldermen +of every free city, to institute unobtrusive investigations and to keep +unostentatious watch. Brinnaria insisted that these mandates should be +sent all over the Empire, pointing out that no one could conjecture what +port of the Mediterranean or of the Black Sea might be the destination +of any nameless trading ship. But, with special care, full orders were +distributed throughout Spain. + +Towards Spain, likewise, Brinnaria directed the energies of those +organizations of the ancient world which were analogous to our modern +private detective bureaus, and upon Spain she focussed the 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 luxurious headquarters +in the most congested business districts of the capital. They had +offices adjacent to each of the circuses, they possessed huge congeries +of buildings utilized as stables for their crack racers and barracks for +their charioteers, and provided with spacious courtyards for +training their teams. Outside of Rome they had similar offices and +training-stables in every city and in most towns of any size or wealth. +Besides they owned countless stud-farms, estates and ranches in every +province of the Empire and maintained an army of herdsmen, ostlers and +drovers to convoy their horses by land and whole fleets of ships to +transport them by sea. + +They were joint-stock companies, and while many smaller ones existed in +various parts of the Empire and a few even at Rome, the small concerns +were insignificant and generally ignored. When one spoke of the +racing-companies one meant the six great companies whose central +organizations were domiciled at Rome and whose ramifications penetrated +every district of the Empire. These were known, after the racing-colors +of their jockeys, as the Greens, the Blues, the Reds, the Whites, +the Crimsons and the Golds. The Reds and the Whites were the oldest +companies, the Crimsons and the Golds were companies established in +the heyday of the Empire by coteries of millionaires, the Blues and the +Greens were the largest, the wealthiest and the most popular, especially +the Greens. In the Greens, somewhere, Brinnaria expected to find Almo, +as he had been enthusiastic about the Greens from boyhood. He had been +wearing their leek-green colors the day she had sat in his lap in her +father’s courtyard. He had haunted their training-stables during +his brief sojourn at Rome before Aurelius sent him to Africa, he had +inherited a big block of stock in the Greens. In the Greens, likewise, +Brinnaria owned stock; and, having entered into inheritances from +more than seventy different wealthy relatives who had died during the +pestilence, she happened to own stock in every one of the six great +companies. She had personal friends among the directors of each of the +six. Therefore it was especially easy for her to enlist their help in +her efforts to find Almo. It would have been easy, anyhow, since to be +able to oblige a Vestal was a refreshing novelty for almost anyone +at Rome and to find a Vestal seeking one’s influence and one’s help, +equally novel and refreshing; generally the shoe was on the other +foot--most persons in public life in Rome were used to attempting to +enlist the help and the interests of the Vestals for their purposes +and were generally utterly at a loss for any means of requital, if the +interest of a Vestal was enlisted and her help obtained. + +Consequently all that the racing-companies could do to find Almo was +done as well as all that could be done by the private detective agencies +and by government officials. + +All that was done was utterly in vain. No trace of Almo could be +discovered after he had sailed from Hippo with Jegius. No slave-dealer +named Jegius could be found nor anyone who knew such a slave-dealer. +No clue, no ghost of a clue came to light. The Greens, like the other +companies, could find among their charioteers, their jockeys, their +free employees, their slaves, no individual in the least answering +to descriptions of Almo. All governmental efforts, all professional +efforts, all private efforts, all Vocco’s efforts, all Brinnaria’s +efforts, were completely baffled. + +Almo had completely vanished. + +When Aurelius, passing through Rome on his way from the Rhine frontier +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 given Grittonius +explicit injunctions about the boy. But the assaults of the Marcomanni +were particularly furious just at that time; I was feverishly hurrying +from point to point along the frontier; I accepted the resignation of +Pennasius; by letter. I appointed Grittonius by letter; I assumed that +Grittonius would have sense; I assumed that Pennasius would impart to +him his secret instructions. I erred by inadvertence; I should have set +a special watch on the boy. But I never thought of it. He was doing so +well and he seemed so interested in his work. He was wonderfully +fitted for frontier duty along the desert. I was watching him with keen +interest; each report of him gave me greater pleasure. I do not hesitate +to tell you that I had him in my mind’s eye to command this very +expedition which I must now command myself, as there is no other man in +the Empire fit to take charge of it. + +“Is it not a shame that a man whom the Empire needs, who had before him +so splendid an opportunity, who was fitting himself for so brilliant +a career, should throw it all away from mere perversity? Yet I am not +wrathful against him; I see many reasons for sympathizing with him. + +“Rigid and unflinching celibacy affects different individuals very +differently. Some it does not affect at all, apparently. It does not +seem to affect you. You are as plump and rosy, as healthy and alert, +as happy and normal a young woman, to all appearance, as could be found +among matrons of your age in all the Empire. Celibacy seems to agree +with you. + +“Manifestly it did not agree with Almo. It got on his nerves somehow. +That is the most probable explanation of his eccentric vagary. Don’t be +discouraged. He’ll turn up somewhere, after a while, safe and sound and +none the worse for his experiences.” + +Brinnaria, in fact, was not discouraged. She resolutely and unweariedly +prosecuted her efforts to find Almo. Nor was she despondent. She scouted +the suggestion that he might be dead. She kept up her spirits, did not +mope or brood and never lost her hearty appetite. She was the life of +the dinners she attended and as talkative and witty as ever. + +But the strain affected her greatly. She was outwardly controlled, +statuesque and dignified, but the inward turmoil of emotion that surged +through her manifested itself in an unremitting activity. She slept well +and soundly, but rose early and kept on the go. Besides her duties, her +music and her participation in social gatherings, she must needs find +other outlets for her energy, other means to pass her time and distract +her thoughts. + +In the course of her dealings with the racing companies she became +interested in them not merely as means towards locating Almo, but for +themselves. She became particularly interested in their stables, their +jockeys and their horses. There was no bar of religious tradition or +of social custom which hindered a Vestal from freely mingling with men +visibly in the open daylight in public. Visiting the stables of the +racing companies had long been a fad with Rome’s social leaders, men and +women alike. Brinnaria availed herself of her freedom in this regard and +followed her inclination. She haunted the training-stables of all six +corporations, but mostly of the Greens, always in company with Manlia, +or Flexinna, or Nemestronia or some other of her women friends; she +visited the barracks almost daily, chatted with the charioteers, grooms +and ostlers, watched the exercising of the teams, inspected the stalls, +conned the racers. + +She made herself an excellent judge of a jockey and a better judge of a +horse. + +She interested herself in the methods by which the companies obtained +and selected their animals. She became an adept on the entire subject of +horse-raising. It engrossed her thoughts. + +Then she herself took over the management of several of her estates in +the environs of Rome; of all, in fact, which were near enough for her +to visit personally. She redistributed the force of slaves that +managed them, sold some, bought others and fitted up the properties +as stud-farms. Herself she selected the brood mares and stallions with +which to stock these estates. She herself laid down the principles +guiding their management and she herself dictated the methods of +breeding them. She herself superintended the carrying out of her orders, +visiting each estate frequently and inspecting everything carefully and +intelligently. + +Her first offering of two-year-olds sold at good prices. She was +encouraged, felt herself completely an adept, and would take no one’s +word about anything relating to horses, relying solely on her own +judgment. + +All this would have subjected her to much reprehension had Faltonius +Bambilio survived. But he had died just about the time of Almo’s +disappearance. His son, also named Faltonius Bambilio, had taken up a +political rather than a priestly life and was not to be thought of as +his successor. In his place Aurelius, on his way to Syria, had nominated +Lutorius Rusco, a man who impressed everyone at first sight, and more +and more the better anyone knew him, as the paragon of a Pontifex. He +was not lacking in ecclesiastical unction, but did not wallow in it as +had Bambilio. He was pious, but did not think it necessary to advertise +it day and night unremittingly. He was not lax in religious matters, but +he was no stickler for minute trifles. He inspired confidence by every +characteristic of his appearance and behavior. He was a man somewhat +over medium height, well built, neither heavy nor large, with an +unusually dignified bearing and carriage, not a hint of self-assertion +and with a genially comprehending smile. It was impossible not to +confide in him and unthinkable that confiding in him should ever be +regretted. Brinnaria confided in him and never regretted it. + +Of Almo’s disappearance she talked to him freely; freely also she talked +of her feelings for Almo. He was as sympathetic and comprehending as +the Emperor and Empress and he encouraged her to hope 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 upon such an +enterprise, least of all a Vestal. I know of no other member of our +hierarchy who has any similar interests, except Calvaster, whose +haunting of the gladiatorial schools and association 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 is clear that you do not neglect or skimp +your duties, that you give them full time and close attention. Your +leisure is your own to do with as you please. And your immediate success +appears an evidence that, to say the least, your undertakings give no +offence to the gods.” + +During the latter months of Bambilio’s oversight Brinnaria had felt +restive and as if some inward force was forever driving her to feverish +activities; under the care of Lutorius she became placid and thought +less of her stock-raising, journeys to and fro to her estates, talks +with grooms and such like activitie and devoted herself with more cool +ardor to her duties. + + + +CHAPTER XIV - AMAZEMENT + + +AURELIUS returned from Syria with his victorious army in the nine +hundred and twenty-ninth year of Rome, 176 of our era, ten years after +the great pestilence. He had merely crushed a local rebellion, but a +vast coalition of nomadic Arab tribes of the desert had been allied with +the rebels, and to the Romans it seemed that their Emperor had won a +great victory in a mighty campaign. Aurelius humored their mood, and +with good judgment, for they needed all the encouragement possible. He +arranged 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 thrilling procession of a victor and +his armed soldiers through the city along the Sacred Street, up to the +great temple on the Capitol, which was the highest honor an army and +a commander could receive at the hands of the Roman government, which +signalized a notable victory over notable odds, which was called a +triumph. Of triumphs Rome had seen fewer than three hundred in more than +nine hundred years. Not one of the three hundred had been as magnificent +as the triumph of Aurelius. + +Its auxiliary spectacles were similarly magnificent. In particular the +gladiatorial shows surpassed anything within the memory of the oldest +living spectator. + +Causidiena, whose eyes troubled her greatly, found that watching the +triumphal procession caused her so much pain that she absented herself +from the remaining shows. To all of these, races, beast-fights and +combats of gladiators, she insisted that the other five Vestals should +go together. The arrangement was unusual, but no one could object, for +no one would hint or even think that the sacred fire would be in any +danger of going out with such a Chief Vestal as Causidiena caring for +it or that she needed any other Vestal to assist her. Likewise her five +colleagues were genuinely pleased that not one of them would miss any +part of the shows. + +As the number was odd, Causidiena decreed that they should be conveyed +to the spectacles each in her own state coach, attended by her maid of +honor. The maids, of course, did not sit with the Vestals, but had seats +far back with the populace. + +In their luxurious private box in the Colosseum the five Vestals sat +in the ample front row arm-chairs. They were seated not according to +seniority, but Numisia in the middle, Meffia and Brinnaria, as the +youngest, on either side of her, Gargilia next Meffia, and Manlia next +Brinnaria. + +In the Imperial loge near them Aurelius, now for more than a year a +widower, presided over the games, clad in his gorgeous silk robes and +attended by his fifteen-year-old son Antoninus, afterward known by his +nickname of “Commodus.” The four tiers of the Colosseum were packed +with spectators, pontiffs, senators, nobles, ambassadors magistrates and +other notables in the front seats along the coping of the arena wall, +lesser notables in the first tier, well-to-do persons in the second +tier, traders and manufacturers and such like in the third tier and the +commonalty in the fourth. + +Besides the ninety thousand seated spectators* many thousand more stood +in the galleries, in the openings of the stairways, in any place where +a foothold could be found and from which a view could be obtained. The +outlook from the Vestals’ box was across the level sand to the gigantic +curve of seats, all hidden under their occupants, so that the interior +of the Amphitheatre was a vast expanse of flower-crowned heads, eager +faces and waving fans. + + *The author forgets himself. Earlier in the book he + describes an audience of 100,000 as Brinnaria tells the + emperor how she felt down on the sand in her shift, with + “two hundred thousand eyes” (implying one hundred thousand + people) staring at her. In fact, the Colosseum could handle + an audience of about 45 to 50 thousand.--GB ed. + + +During that second day of gladiatorial fighting Manlia had several times +said to Brinnaria: + +“Is there anything wrong? Are you ill? You do not seem yourself!” Each +time Brinnaria had positively denied that anything was wrong and had +asserted that she was entirely herself. + +About the middle of the afternoon, the arena was filled with pairs 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 of a light-built, +light-armed, nimble expert pitted against a heavily built, heavily +armed ruffian, the two supposed to be equally matched, the strength and +weapons of the one fully balanced by the skill and agility of the other. + +Viewing fights of this kind Manlia felt rather than heard or saw a +change in Brinnaria next her, felt her stiffen and grow silent, +rigid and tense. Manlia glanced at her, followed her gaze and became +interested in the fight Brinnaria was watching. Before them, not +immediately below them, but some distance out in the arena, fought a +conspicuous pair of gladiators. One was a great hulking full-armored +brute of a Goth, helmeted and corseleted, kilted in bronze-plated +leather straps, booted, as it were, with ample shin-guards of thick +hide, bronze-plated like the straps of his flapping kilt. He carried a +big oval shield and threatened with a long straight sword his adversary, +a Roman in every outline, a slender young man, barefoot, bare-legged, +kilted with the scantiest form of gladiator’s body-piece and apron, +clad in a green tunic and carrying only the small round shield and short +sabre of a Thracian. He wore a helmet like a skull cap with a broad +nose-guard that amounted to a mask, above which were small openings for +his eyes. + +Conning this pair Manlia’s attention was riveted by the slighter man. +He was very light on his feet, jaunty of bearing and, as it were, ablaze +with self-confidence. + +Manlia, who was an expert judge of sword-fighting, perceived at once +that he was a master of his art. His method for the moment was to +hold back, lead his opponent on and bide his time. His attitudes and +movements bespoke the most perfect knowledge of sword play in all its +finest details. But what most held Manlia’s attention was his beauty +of form and a strange something about him, a long-armed, long-legged +appearance. She turned to Brinnaria. + +“I should have sworn,” she said, “that there was not in all the world +another man like Segontius Almo. But that Thracian is a duplicate of +him, as like him as if he were his twin brother.” + +“More like him than a twin brother,” Brinnaria replied, her voice +muffled and choked. “I’ve been watching him ever since he came in. I +recognized him in the procession this morning. That is Almo.” + +“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 are praying, +Brinnaria?” + +“I am praying,” came the answer, in a viperish whisper. “I’m praying he +may be killed.” + +“Killed!” Manlia gasped. + +“Yes, killed,” repeated Brinnaria, viciously. “Killing is what he +deserves, mere killing is too good for him. If he wanted to commit +suicide why couldn’t he do it decently at once and privately without all +this elaborate machinery of selling himself as a slave, and lying about +his intentions and disgracing himself by becoming a prize-fighter and +exposing himself to getting killed in public? Why couldn’t he get +killed at Treves or Lyons or Aquileia? Why must he humiliate me by this +exhibition of himself before me and all Rome? The quicker he is killed +the better. 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 never in any +danger of being killed. He played with his man as a cat plays with a +mouse; held him off without an effort, caught the attention of all +the nearby spectators; won their interest by the perfection of his +sword-play; and aroused their enthusiasm by that nameles quality which +marks off, from even the best drilled talent, the man who is a born +genius in his line. + +He pinked his victim between corselet and helmet, so lightly that 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,” spoke Manlia. + +“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 watch anything but +Almo?” + +“I could and I did,” Brinnaria asseverated. “I’m looking all ways at +once, just now. The news is all over the Imperial loge already. They are +looking at me as well as at him. I hope he’ll be killed this next bout.” + The lanista, in fact, at once matched Almo with another full-armed +giant. Again Almo gave an exhibition of perfect swordsmanship. The +Romans were as quick to appreciate form in fighting as we moderns are +to applaud our best bail players; they recognized pre-eminence in the +swordman’s art, as we acclaim the skill of a crack baseball pitcher or +cricket bowler. + +Almo caught the eye of spectator after spectator, till most of the +audience on that side of the arena were watching the fight in which +he took part to the exclusion of everything else that was going on. He +displayed that perfect balance of all the mental and physical faculties, +that instantaneous co-ordination of eye, brain and muscle, which only an +occasional phenomenon can attain to. 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 +small round shield without a trace of effort, and at his leisure found +a joint in his body armor and pierced his heart with an ostentatiously +difficult lunge delivered with the acme of apparent 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 him and he has +been recognized by three or four nobles along the coping. The rumor is +spreading from each of them and running through the audience.” + Manlia, in fact, looking about was aware of an unusual stir among +the spectators, of notes being handed along and read, of whisperings, +callings, signs, pointings; of messengers worming their way from row to +row and from tier to tier. + +Almo won his third bout. While it was in progress Manlia had seen one of +the Emperor’s orderlies enter the arena from one of the 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 was looking at +him or at Brinnaria. There were thousands present who had survived the +pestilence, who had been present fifteen years before when she had +let herself down into the arena and had rescued the retiarius. They +remembered her spectacular interference and were curious as to how she +would now comport herself. Brinnaria, erect and calm, fanned herself +placidly. + +Almo won his fourth bout. + +By this time the arrangements of the lanistas had been so far modified +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 a fifth +adversary. By the time he had disposed of him the entire audience, fully +a hundred thousand souls, were as well aware of what was going on as was +Brinnaria herself. She was pale, but entirely collected. To Manlia she +whispered venomously: + +“Castor be thanked, he is certain to be killed, Aurelius has attended +to that.” In fact the Roman sense of fair play was offended when the +lanista gave Almo a mere moment of rest and then set against him a +sixth antagonist. Murmurs ran from tier to tier, 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 Colosseum focussed its +attention on anyone fighter. That happened now. The dozen or more +other pairs of fighters were ignored, all eyes were on Almo and his +opponent--all eyes that did not stray towards Brinnaria. + +Almo was not showing any signs of weariness, but he was plainly +husbanding his strength. The sixth bout was tame--seldom had the +Amphitheatre displayed so mild a set to. The heavy-armed man had seen +Almo dispose of five like himself, he was timid; Almo was not timid, +but he was cautious. The result was a tedious exhibition of fencing for +position, each sword monotonously caught on the other shield. At the end +Almo slashed his opponent’s wrist, feinted, pretended to be unable to +avoid a clumsy thrust, slipped inside the big man’s guard and drove his +sabre deep under his arm-pit. + +The Colosseum rang with cheers. + +Without so much as a sponging down or a mouthful of wine Almo was faced +by a seventh fresh swordsman in complete armor. This time there were no +caterwaulings or groans. Even the upper gallery had recognized Almo +or been told who he was, even the populace had remembered or had been +informed of the relation between Almo and Brinnaria. Everybody had +recalled or been reminded of her rescue of the retiarius. + +The audience collectively comprehended that Aurelius meant Almo to be +defeated and put at an adversary’s mercy before Brinnaria, that he was +testing her. + +The habitual hubbub, hum, and buzz of undertones was checked to a very +unusual degree, the Amphitheatre became almost still. + +But when Almo fairly duplicated his first bout and neatly, almost +without effort, cut his victim’s throat, the audience cheered him +vociferously. + +Louder, if possible did they acclaim his calm and adequate strategy +against his eighth antagonist. + +A ninth and a tenth were promptly put beyond power to hurt him by 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 adversary and played +him warily. When the audience was bored to the point of being almost +ready to call for something diverting Almo slaughtered his man with a +terrible wound between his corselet and kilt. + +The twelfth, thirteenth and fourteenth antagonists Almo plainly +despised. He stood almost still, hardly altering the position of his +feet except to turn as the huge barbarians circled ponderously about +him. Each he brought down with his first lunge. + +As the fifteenth bout began the audience was manifestly impatient and +restive. But they were not bored. That one Thracian, almost without +rest, should successively dispose of fourteen antagonists, in the +fullest armor, was a notable feat. The perfect form of Almo’s fighting +was even more notable. At each victory the audience cheered him till +they were hoarse. They seemed to cheer quite spontaneously and to need +the relief for their feelings. But also they seemed to mean to give him +as long a 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 handled his big +sword deftly. After much sparring he was too quick for Almo, and the +point of his slender blade scratched Almo’s splay vizor, nicked his +chin, and tore a long shallow slash in the skin of 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, sat erect, +fanned herself steadily, and gazed straight before her. To all +appearance she was as indifferent to Almo as if he did not exist. + +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 his weapon ripped +Alma’s thigh on the outside above the knee. No man could stand up after +such a wound. He went down, his shield under him. + +From all around the arena, from every tier, automatically, thousands +of arms shot out, thumb flat. Instantly every arm whipped back and was +hidden under its owner’s robe. All realized that 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 same curiosity which +actuated the rest of the audience, restrained the Vestals from giving +the sign of mercy. All felt that the matter concerned only Aurelius +and Brinnaria, that for anyone else to interfere would be flouting the +Emperor. + +Brinnaria, white as a corpse, dizzy and numb, kept up the unvarying +motion of her fan. Otherwise she was perfectly still. + +The victor rolled his eyes along the rows of spectators. He got 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 his identity +the doubt was dispelled among all near enough to make out his face. + +The victor put one foot on Almo’s chest. Almo stretched his neck. + +Brinnaria sat there, tense, pale, but as collected as if she had no +interest in what was going on. + +The savage standing over Alma glanced a second time towards the 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 to the test +before all Rome, that she had stood the test, that all Rome was witness. +Her fingers clutched the handle of her fan. She could 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 of cheers, +roaring like a storm wind in a forest. + +Brinnaria saw the arena, saw the spectators, through a film of mist, +through a gray veil, through a fog of blackness. She realized that, +for the first time in her life, she was on the verge of fainting. +Mechanically she looked about her. Her glance fell on Meffia crumpled in +her arm-chair. + +That steadied her. If Meffia had fainted, she would not, she would not. + +She did not faint. She fanned herself steadily as she watched the +lanistas help Almo to hobble from the arena. When he was gone her +attention returned to Meffia. Gargilia and Numisia were trying to rouse +her. + +She remained crumpled, she collapsed, she slid off her chair to the +floor of the box. She lay in a horrid heap unmistakable in its limpness. +The excitement had been too much for Meffia. She was stone dead. + + + + +BOOK III--THE REBELLION OF DESPERATION + + +CHAPTER XV - REHABILITATION + + +THE death of a Vestal, except from old age, was always regarded by the +Roman populace as a sign of the gods’ disfavor. The death of a young +Vestal, sudden, unexpected and unexplained, could not but cause great +uneasiness throughout all classes of the population. + +Moreover, gladiatorial exhibitions were part of the Roman public +worship, which largely proceeded on the naive assumption that the gods +liked just about what men liked and that, the best way to please the +gods and win their favor was to delight them with such spectacles as men +enjoyed, acrobatic exhibitions, dramas, beast-fights, fights of +beasts with men or of men with men, chariot-races and similar exciting +displays, and so put the gods in a good humor. This underlying theory +of diverting spectacles as a species of prayer and as the most effective +kind of prayer was not so much definitely expressed by the Romans, as +tacitly and unconsciously assumed. It was, nevertheless, entirely real +and all Romans felt every public show as an act of public worship, as a +hallowed function. + +Most Roman rites were held to be entirely vitiated if a death took +place among the worshippers during the course of the ceremony. To +all solemnities at which only a few persons were present this applied +without qualification and positively. Naturally a death among the crowd +about a temple was held of much less import. + +Still less could anyone regard a death amid the vast throng in the +Colosseum or the Circus Maximus. So that Meffia’s sudden end was not +necessarily held a certain indication of the wrath of the gods. But, +as the death of one of the most important functionaries present at the +spectacle, it caused much concern. The dismay of the people the pontiffs +tried to alleviate by all the means in their power, by consultation +of the augurs, soothsayers and professional prophets, and by official +consultation of the Sibylline Books. The general anxiety was somewhat +allayed by their placards and proclamations, announcing that Meffia’s +death was wholly due to her personal weakness and was not to be regarded +as a portent, in particular that it in no way indicated the wrath of the +gods or their rejection of the petition for public safety embodied in +the spectacles celebrating the triumph of Aurelius. + +The Temple and the Atrium of Vesta made up an institution in which death +was entirely disregarded. As no seriously ill Vestal was ever allowed +to remain within the limits of the Atrium, but, as soon as alarming +symptoms appeared, was removed from the Atrium and put in charge of +relations or friends, so also the body of a dead Vestal was always +turned over to the care of her family 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 and +lavishly provided at the public expense, yet the death itself was held +to be a concern of the family of the dead Vestal, not of her surviving +colleagues. The Vestals might mourn but the Atrium was never in +mourning. Its routine went on as if nothing had happened; no sign of +grief was displayed or even permitted; visitors were received as usual. + +Among the first visitors to the Atrium on the morning after Almo’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 with him +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 or not. I’d rather he +wouldn’t recover. The best thing for both of us would be for him to die +anyhow. I wish he were dead; I wish one of those heavy men had killed +him.” + +“B-B-Brinnaria!” Flexinna remonstrated, “you t-t-talk like a raving +maniac! You look like a F-F-Fury!” + +“I’m furious enough!” Brinnaria snarled, “and I’ve plenty of good cause +for being angry. Was ever woman on earth put in a position so invidious, +so embarrassing? Everybody knew of my rescue of the retiarius, thousands +had seen me rescue him. Everybody knew of my involvement with Almo +before I was taken for a Vestal, of our love for each other, of my +expressed intention to marry him at the end of my service. Everybody +recognized Almo. + +“And there I was with the one man on earth in the jaws of death before +my eyes and I with the power to save him if I chose and a hundred +thousand people watching me to see what I would do. And because I had +once before rescued a man in that same situation everybody expected me +to do something unusual and spectacular to save Almo. + +“If it had been any other man it would have been the most natural thing +in the world for me to give the signal for mercy and nobody would have +thought anything of it. But, because the man before me was the man I had +expressed my intention of marrying at the end of my service, therefore, +if I had tried to save him, that would be taken as a confession of my +being actuated by the sort of interest which no Vestal has a right to +feel for any man. + +“A delightful situation to be placed in! + +“And he must needs go out of his way to put me in that position! When +all he had to do was to live the normal life of a Roman gentleman and +all things would in time come right for both of us, he must needs strain +the powers of human ingenuity, compel the forces of time and space, of +wind and wave to conspire to produce that situation and make me suffer +those unnecessary agonies! + +“Furious! + +“Of course I’m furious. + +“Never name him to me!” + +When Lutorius Rusco, the new Pontifex of Vesta, called on her she was +less explosive, but still fuming. + +She received him in the large room at the east end of the peristyle of +the Atrium, a sort of parlor which had on either side of it three very +small rooms, the six, used as private offices by the six Vestals. +There each had her writing desk, and the cabinets in which she kept her +important papers, letters and such possessions. + +After they had exchanged greetings Lutorius motioned towards Brinnaria’s +little sanctum. Brinnaria bridled. + +“I’ve nothing to say that we cannot say out here,” she advertised, “and +I do not want to hear anything that cannot be said out here.” + +Lutorius was tactful and had his way. When they were alone, he said: + +“You were magnificent! You behaved splendidly. You could not have done +better. We are all proud of you, from the Emperor down to the lowest +slumgullion, every single Roman of us. You are certainly the most +popular woman alive and your popularity is now of a sort to last as long +as you live, complete and unqualified. You were popular before, but with +considerable reservations. The hierarchy liked you, but were not sure +that they ought to approve a Vestal who had perpetrated such exploits +as yours, particularly your trouncing poor old Faltonius. The nobility +admired you, but shook their heads over your stock-farming. The populace +were enthusiastic about you, but, like the upper classes, were uneasy +because of your expressed intention to marry at the end of your service +and to marry a specified man, who had been your boyish lover. All +classes acclaimed you as a woman, but nearly everybody was dubious about +you as a Vestal. + +“Now nobody has any hesitation about feeling that you are all a Vestal +should be, a priestess whose prayers are certain to be heard and +answered.” + +Brinnaria made a wry face. + +“My prayers were not heard yesterday,” she sighed. “Almo was not killed. +I was praying hard to have him dead and have it all over with and done +with forever.” + +Lutorius turned on her a slow, benignant, indulgent smile. + +“Daughter,” he said, “you must remember that you are not the only +Vestal. Four Vestals were praying that Almo be saved, each praying not +only with her lips but with every fibre of her being. And your heart and +soul were praying silently with them and against the fierce prayers of +your lips.” + +“It is not so,” she denied. “Every fibre of me was praying as my lips +prayed. My prayers were genuine.” + +“I am sure you thought so,” Lutorius agreed. “It was natural for you to +feel that way. You were very angry. But your anger will wear off.” + +“My anger may,” Brinnaria admitted, “but never my resentment and my +disgust.” + +“Only time can prove whether your forecast is correct,” the Pontiff +soothed her, “but are you justified even in being resentful? Ought you +not rather to be thankful that chance or fate or the direct intervention +of the gods working through Almo gave you the precious opportunity to +free yourself from the shadow of an imputation that lay upon you from +your entrance into the order? Rome vaguely suspected you of too warm an +interest in Almo. Much of Rome had seen and all Rome had heard of your +theatrical rescue of a gladiator totally unknown to you. All Rome knew +your impulsive nature. All Rome has now seen you perfectly controlled +and outwardly calm with Almo on the verge of death before your eyes. +Everybody has watched you ignore him and show less interest in his +fate than you once manifested towards a casual savage. Your outward +observance of the conventions under such trying circumstances has +abolished any qualms the people felt because of your many past +unconventionalities. This puts you in a very strong position toward any +possible accusation or trial. You know how earnestly you have talked to +me of your dread of such contingencies. Ought you not, after thinking it +over, to forget your anger against Almo and to feel positively grateful +for the opportunity so to exalt ourself?” + +“Perhaps I ought,” Brinnaria mused. “The value to me of the results I +had not thought of, but admit it now that you expound it. But I am not +grateful. I suffered too much. I am still smarting with indignation. + +“And, apart from any remains of anger, I ache with the humiliation of +it all. Think of the infamy, of the degradation Almo has brought on +himself!” + +Lutorius pursed his lips. + +“There is a certain social stigma upon any man who has joined a +prize-fighting gang,” he conceded, “but the obloquy resulting from +having been a gladiator has greatly attenuated amid the loose manners +of our day. Nothing that becomes fashionable remains disgraceful. The +social disgrace of it has greatly lessened as the thing has become more +usual, and freemen who have been gladiators are rather acclaimed and +sought after than condemned and shunned. They win a sort of vogue, if +successful fighters. + +“The treatment of such persons has greatly changed in recent years. Even +since I began to remember there has been an all but universal alteration +in the general attitude towards such cases--they have become too +numerous for the old feelings to survive. Not only Roman citizens have +entered gladiatorial schools, risen high in the profession, fought +countless fights, served out their time as prize-fighters, and returned +to their families, but noblemen have done so, even senators. Vescularius +is as much a senator as if he had not won seventy-eight bouts in three +years.” + +“I know it,” Brinnaria admitted, “and I have thought over all that. But +I am old-fashioned in my feelings even if I have often been the reverse +in my behavior. I am revolted at the thought of Almo as a professional +cut-throat--I was insulted at the sight of him in the arena. I feel that +by his abasement of himself he has obliterated my love for him. It is as +if he had never existed. I shall not marry him, even if we both outlive +my obligatory term of service. I shall never marry anybody. I shall die +a Vestal.” + +“You feel that way now, of course,” Lutorius agreed, “but you will get +over it, though you do not think so now.” + +“I do not believe I shall ever get over it,” Brinnaria declared. “So +many things rankle in my thoughts, the small things even more than what +is more important. I grind my teeth over the mere legal consequences +of his having been a gladiator. He will forfeit half the properties he +inherited and he can never hold any office, civil or military.” + +“All that,” said Lutorius, “the Emperor will attend to in full. And your +thinking of such trifles shows that you even yet care more for Almo than +you admit to yourself. + +“You must let me tell you about him. He is in the care of the best +physicians in Rome. They assure me that he will recover, that his face +will show but the merest trace of a scar, no disfigurement whatever, +and that he will walk without the slightest limp. He is comfortable and +convalescing nicely. I am going to bring you news of him daily, whether +you think you want it or not, and you are going to listen to me because +I tell you to.” + +Brinnaria, for once in her life, was submissive and silent. + +Not many days later the Pontiff greeted her with a contented smile. + +“Almo,” he said, “is now practically recovered. He is well enough to +have enjoyed brief visits from several of his former cronies. He is in +his house on the Carinae, and it is besieged by all the fashionables +of Rome, not only his boyhood friends and acquaintances, but people who +never spoke to him. Everybody is rushing to call on him. + +“He is a free man again. At an intimation of the Emperor’s wishes +Elufrius became as supple as possible and all willingness to oblige. +He asked a huge price for Almo’s release, and no wonder, for after the +advertisement you gave him, Almo could have commanded fabulous fees for +all future fights and the profits accruing to Elufrius must have been +enormous. So Elufrius had to be paid a large sum, but nothing compared +to even one year’s accumulation of revenue from Almo’s estates +administered by his agents. So Almo will never feel that. The papers +have all been drawn, signed and sealed. The cash has been paid. Almo is +no longer a member of a gladiatorial band. + +“And, at a word from the Emperor, the Senate framed and passed a decree +relieving Almo of all the legal disabilities inhering in his past. He +has been restored to his former rank in the nobility, has been confirmed +in the possession of all inheritances which he might otherwise have +forfeited, has been declared free from all stain and entirely fit to +hold any office in 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 to ask. If you +must say no, say no without being offended. May I tell the Emperor what +you have said to me?” + +“Certainly,” Brinnaria authorized him. “Aurelius is so good a friend to +me that sometimes I think he is the best friend I have on earth.” + +After an interval of some days the Pontiff hinted that the Emperor +desired to see her. Brinnaria’s disposition to stand upon ceremony +and to insist on her full rights as a Vestal had waned as she grew +to maturity. In her dealing with Aurelius she had long laid it aside +altogether and likewise with Lutorius, both were so unassuming, so +manifestly actuated by the sincerest regard for her. Now she obediently +sent in her application for an audience 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 so without +hesitation, since I ask it. + +“What I wish you to tell me is this: Has your lover’s behavior +effaced your regard for him, as you asserted to Lutorius, or were you +self-deceived? Is everything at an end between you and will you ignore +his existence in future and remain a Vestal for life or have your +feelings overcome your displeasure and are you again thinking of him and +of your future as you did in the past?” + +“Castor be good to me,” Brinnaria confessed. “I did think his folly had +alienated me from him forever, but the more I brood over it all the more +I realize that no matter what he has done or does or will do I love +him just as genuinely as if he deserved it, and as far as I can judge I +shall love him to the last breath I draw. I am ashamed of my weakness, +but I foresee that, when my service is over, I shall be just as eager to +marry him as if he had been all he ought to have been.” + +“You please me,” said Aurelius, “particularly in the way you put it. + +“I am not in the habit of giving a second chance to any man. But Almo’s +case is so peculiar and the circumstances so unusual and my interest in +him is so compelling that I am going to make an exception in respect +to him. I shall give him another opportunity as an officer. I have +reflected where to send him and I have concluded to relegate him to +Britain. There, in the north, our frontier, pushed far beyond the +former line, is ceaselessly attacked by the Caledonian savages. My +predecessor’s great earthwork needs larger garrisons. There Almo will +find occupation and may rehabilitate himself. There he will be under the +watch of Opstorius, who is a stern and scrupulous governor. He sets out +this very day. + +“Now is the time for me to speak to you of Calvaster. Calvaster, +unfortunately, is as indispensable as ever, even more so. My impulse +was to banish him, but I had to forego the idea. I contented myself with +summoning him to my presence and telling him in so many words that the +slightest suspicion of any further machinations by him against you or +Almo would draw down on him the unescapable consequences of my severest +displeasure. By that admonition, and by his chagrin at the unexpected +and unwelcome outcome of his plot, I think him sufficiently punished. +Also I think him thoroughly cowed. He will make no further attempt to +trouble you. + +“It appears that when he was touring Spain, inspecting the copies of +the sacred books at all the chief temples of the five provinces, +he recognized Almo in the arena at Corduba. He at once used all the +influence in his power to arrange that Elufrius should bring his gang +of fighters to Rome and that their bouts should be so managed that Almo +would be saved to fight before you as he did. Almo himself found this +out through Elufrius since he became again a free man and in control of +his fortune, and it took a great deal of money and the participation of +a great many experts to uncover and prove the facts. Proved they have +been to my satisfaction and Calvaster’s confusion. + +“Almo had expected to serve his three years in Spain and was as dismayed +as possible when he found he was to be transferred to Rome. But an +articled gladiator has taken oath to submit to anything, specifying +death, torture, burning, wounding, flogging and more besides, an +articled gladiator cannot object to fighting anywhere. Almo had to +acquiesce. + +“And now, having heard that it was not wholly his fault that you were +so cruelly tried before all of us, will you not agree to say farewell to +him a second time?” + +In the flood-tide of her revulsion of feeling Brinnaria could refuse +Aurelius nothing. The Emperor gave a signal and Almo was ushered 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 so well 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 rough frontier to which he was going. + +Almo tried to speak and choked. + +“Caius,” she said, “the Emperor has told me how it all came about. +Don’t ask me to forgive; I ask your pardon for misconceiving you; I have +nothing to forgive in you. If you are what I believe you to be I shall +never have to forgive anything from you. Go, and with the help of the +blessed gods, prove yourself all you ought to be. Farewell!” + +And Almo, as he bowed, managed to say: + +“Farewell!” + + + +CHAPTER XVI - VAGARY + + +TERENTIA FLAVOLA, who was taken as a Vestal to fill Meffia’s place, was +a really beautiful girl. + +Her hair was golden hair in fact, not merely in name; her eyes were an +intense, bright blue; her complexion was exquisite, the delicate texture +and perfect whiteness of her skin emphasized by the healthful coloring +which came and went on her cheeks. Every one of the Vestals fell in love +with her at once, most of all Brinnaria. + +Besides her good looks Terentia had a charming disposition, a pretty +unconsciousness of herself and a winning deferentialness towards 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 a complete +child in all respects, but in being what moderns call an infant prodigy. +Infant prodigies in ancient times displayed their unusual powers chiefly +by recitations, mostly of poems, which they learned by rote and repeated +with very little understanding of what they rehearsed. More than most of +her kind Terentia comprehended what she declaimed, but she knew by heart +many poems entirely beyond her childish grasp. At barely eight years of +age she was able to reel off without hesitation or effort anyone of an +amazingly long list. With little prompting she could recite some of the +longest narrative poems in Latin literature and she needed prompting +only to give her the cue words at the beginning of each book and of each +important episode. + +Besides her amazing powers as a reciter she was already proficient in +Greek, talked it easily and knew many poems in that language, which all +educated Romans spoke and which was used more than Latin at Court. + +But her chief distinction came from her capability as a musician. +In music she was not only an infant prodigy, but very much of a born +genius. Her memory for any composition she heard once was unfailingly +accurate; her rendition of anything she knew was more than perfect, +since to perfection of rendition she added sympathetic interpretation. +She was already reputed the best female performer on the lyre, the most +popular instrument in ancient times. The lyre had an effect something +between that of a guitar and a harp, with some of the characteristics of +the modern banjo, zither and mandolin. + +Since the lyre was looked upon as frivolous and unsuited to the gravity +of a Vestal, Brinnaria introduced Terentia to the organ. This instrument +the child had heard, but had not learned to play, as organs were +expensive in those days, whereas Terentia’s family, although of the most +ancient nobility, were in very straitened circumstances. + +To the organ Terentia took with great enthusiasm, and in performing on +it she soon surpassed her teacher. + +Brinnaria’s playing on the water-organ was similar to the piano music +of a modern girl who has mostly taught herself and who plays largely by +ear; Terentia played it as a born genius in our days plays her piano, +with impeccable exactitude, inimitable individuality and compelling +charm. Her organ recitals were soon a chief feature of the social life +in the Atrium, each thronged by the most fashionable ladies in Rome, +who competed for invitations. Her vogue in no way spoiled Terentia, who +played with just as much zest for her co-inmates of the Atrium, or +when she was entirely alone amusing herself at the organ. Teaching her, +playing with her, listening to her, took up a good deal of Brinnaria’s +time and came to be a great solace and comfort to her. + +Even more was this abundance of good music a solace and a comfort to +Causidiena, for, like Dossonia, her predecessor, like so many former +Chief Vestals, Causidiena was going blind from some disorder slow, +painless and obscure, altogether baffling to the best medical and +surgical skill.* + +*Clearly cataracts. As a matter of fact they WERE sometimes treated even +this long ago, but the treatments did not meet with much success, and +Causidiena probably would not have cared to take the risk. + +For much of the ritual of Vesta and much of the participation of the +Vestals in the public worship in general, the presence of the Chief +Vestal was essential. + +She was the Vestal, the others were only her assistants and in training +to succeed her. But as Causidiena became less and less able to see, all +matters which could be attended to by others devolved more and more +upon Numisia. Among her colleagues Numisia had greatest confidence in +Brinnaria, so that Brinnaria’s duties occupied her insistently. + +Besides her ritual duties and her music she kept up her interest in +horse-racing; in fact, she became more and more devoted to this pastime, +which Lutorius countenanced, but which her detractors characterized as +indelicate. + +The success of her venture was notable. She became an important 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 reputation that spread beyond the city, over all Italy, +even into the provinces. Her career as a stock farmer was brilliant, +meteoric, phenomenal. + +Between her duties, her music and her horse-breeding Brinnaria’s mind +was pretty well occupied. She had no time to brood and passed six +contented and almost happy years. + +She had reason for happiness in the fact that reports from Almo were +uniformly good. To Flexinna he wrote at intervals and his letters +reached their destination without much irregularity. In those days +communication with Britain was by no means so easy as with Africa. Gaul +was a country well Romanized and very populous, busy and prosperous. All +across it were good roads, excellent bridges and frequent post houses. +But between Italy and Gaul were the Alps, where the winter snows blocked +the roads for months at a time and where avalanches and floods suspended +traffic at unpredictable intervals at all times of the year. The only +sure road uniting Italy and Gaul was not through the Alps but past them +along the sea-coast, and that was roundabout. + +At the other end of Gaul the sea interposed a barrier which the Romans +found annoying. In the state of seamanship in those ages a head-wind was +an insuperable obstacle. As long as the wind blew the wrong way there +was nothing to do but wait for the wind to change. High winds made +navigation altogether impossible. Between storms and head-winds, on more +than half the days in the year attempting the passage of the channel was +not to be thought of. Moreover, bitter experience had taught the Romans +that the weather-signs of the Mediterranean were not to be relied on +when one dealt with Atlantic weather conditions. In particular they +found that a clear sky, a light breeze, warm air and a calm sea in the +morning not infrequently heralded a terrible storm before dusk. + +Consequently their attempts to cross from Gaul to Britain or from +Britain to Gaul were restricted to occasions when, at and after sunset, +the sky was clear, the sea calm and the wind favorable. Only under those +circumstances could they be reasonably sure of the conditions remaining +unaltered until the transit was accomplished. In practice about +sixty-five nights in a year promised well for traffic. With sea transit +so restricted, communication with Britain was infrequent, and news of +Almo irregular. + +Besides his letters to Flexinna he wrote occasionally to Vocco. Vocco +also had hopes of hearing from some of his comrades in arms. But as +Valentia was a place of semi-exile for incompetent, illiterate, drunken +and reckless officers, small reliance 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 by skillful hirelings +of the Imperial information department. These men sent messages whenever +it was possible, and their reports were consistently favorable. + +The frontier of Caledonia offered no such opportunities for distinction +and promotion as the outskirts of the Sahara had afforded. Military +duty from the Forth to the Clyde was monotonous and wearisome. But, +considering his environment, Almo did very well. He was liked by his +companions, loved by his subordinates and worshipped by his men. What +there was to do he did capably, and in his leisure, among comrades who +guzzled wine and gambled like madmen, he was always sober and never +abused the dice, which were an inevitable social feature of all Roman +outpost existence. + +Aurelius spent the last four years of his life along the headwaters of +the Danube and Rhine, where the rising tide of Germanic migrations beat +incessantly at the outworks of the Empire. His death at Vienna occurred +when Brinnaria was twenty-nine years old and had been nineteen years +a Vestal. He was succeeded by his son Antoninus, whose obliging +disposition and easy-going manners made him exceedingly popular with his +cronies, the young fops, dandies and sports of Roman society, and led +to his being known among them as “the good fellow,” which nickname of +“Commodus” soon supplanted his given names and official titles, 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 was therefore not +possible for Brinnaria to have an audience with him. She dreaded that a +change of governors in Britain might work unfavorably for Almo. + +In consultation with Vocco she did what she could, through the city +Prefect in charge of Rome during the Emperor’s absence, and through +other officials, to make sure that any new governor of Britain would +be fully informed of the secret instructions which Aurelius had given +Opstorius concerning Almo. She also did all that was possible to have +Commodus reminded of the matter. This was difficult at a distance and +a delicate undertaking at any time and in any place, no Emperor ever +relishing the assumption that he need be reminded of anything, while the +necessity for emphasis and secrecy at one and the same time taxed the +best ingenuity. 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 her premonition of something wrong +intensified. At first sight Flexinna’s face confirmed her suspicions. +However, she asked no questions and worked off her feelings by a series +of high dives, followed by fancy-stroke swimming under water. She came +up from her tenth plunge sufficiently exhausted to feel to some extent +soothed. + +As they composed themselves on the dining-sofas Vocco and Flexinna +exchanged glances. Brinnaria did not wait for either to speak. + +“I am afraid,” she said, “that my appetite is not as reliable as it was +ten years ago. I think we had best eat our dinner first and discuss our +bad news afterwards.” Vocco and Flexinna looked distinctly relieved. + +Brinnaria’s appetite seemed excellent. She ate abundantly, and, after +the dinner tray was removed and the dessert tray brought in, she +relished a half a dozen of her favorite purple figs. Savoring her glass +of Vocco’s exquisite Setian wine she asked: + +“What has gone wrong, Quintus?” + +“Just precisely what we feared has happened,” Vocco replied. “In spite +of all our efforts Hostidius appears to have known nothing whatever +about Almo’s peculiar past or of the special instructions Aurelius gave +Opstorius. + +“Almo has practically repeated the vagary he perpetrated at Hippo. He +induced Hostidius to give him a full, honorable discharge from the army +and later wheedled the governor into authorizing 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 out to him? Being sold as a +slave is universally regarded as the worst fate that can befall a man in +life. What makes the prospect of 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 sold in the +marketplace of Eboracum.” + +“At least,” Brinnaria breathed, “we have not lost track of him this +time.” + +“We have not,” Vocco answered, “and I’ll wager we shall not.” + +“Is it prize-fighting again?” Brinnaria queried, “or is it really +charioteering this time?” + +“Neither,” said Vocco. “I must say it sounds like lunacy. But all +Almo’s words and all the small details of his behavior show no signs of +derangement. Up to the last report he slept well, ate well, looked well, +talked sensibly, in respect to all minor matters acted like a rational +being, and seemed to thrive. But what he did in the large sense appears +incredible. + +“He had himself advertised for sale as an expert farm overseer, was +bought by a prosperous proprietor whose properties are situated in the +southwestern part of Britain and there, near Ischalis, he has settled +down to the management of a large estate; large at least for that part +of the world. He was giving excellent satisfaction in his dealings with +the slaves and by his knowledge of budding, grafting, transplanting and +of all the mysteries of gardening, orchard lore, and of agriculture in +general.” + +“Yes,” Brinnaria reflected, “he was keen on all that sort of thing while +he was at the villa near Falerii. Such knowledge, gained in boyhood, +sinks in deep and is never forgotten. He is not playing a part or +pretending; he is really enjoying farm life. But what kink in his head +makes him fancy that he prefers to enjoy it as a slave rather than as +a free man? That puzzles me. Why be sold as a slave in order to bask in +rural delights when he could buy the ten largest estates in Britain and +never feel the outlay? When after his honorable discharge from the army +he was at liberty to remain in Britain openly and to do as he liked? Can +you see through it?” + +Flexinna and Vocco agreed that they saw no glimmer of light. + +“At least,” Brinnaria summed up, “he is in Britain and we can arrange +to prevent his leaving the island. Certainly we can have him watched, +wherever he goes.” + +Vocco at once set about making the arrangements to ensure that Almo +would not leave Britain. Within a half year he had to report that their +efforts had been futile. + +“We were too late,” he said. “He did not remain at Ischalis a year. +Egnatius Probus, of Fregellae, had been in Britain more than ten years +as adviser to the tax-department. His health had given way and he was +taking the waters at Aquae Solis. He was an acquaintance of Almo’s owner +and went down to Ischalis after his water-cure had had its effect and +he felt better. While visiting and idling at Ischalis he took a fancy to +Almo, offered a high price for him and bought him. He returned home by +way of Marseilles and from there by ship to Puteoli. He is now on his +estates near Fregellae and Almo is his head overseer, in charge of the +entire place. He has been there three months already.” + +Brinnaria fidgeted on her sofa, for, as on the previous occasion, Vocco +had imparted his news after dinner. + +“Give me another goblet of that Setian you bought from Zaelis,” she +said. “I’m getting to be a confirmed wine-bibber. At every 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 he must be +living with some slave-woman or other.” + +“He is not,” Vocco informed her. “I made careful inquiries on just +that point and got my information from two different sources. Almo told +Egnatius that he was a woman-hater and could not endure a woman about +him. Egnatius humored him and he is acting villicus without any villica. +The wife of the assistant overseer does whatever is necessary in the +way of prayers and sacrifices and such duties of a villica. She and her +husband occupy the overseer’s house and Almo is living in the hut meant +for the assistant villicus.” + +“Did anybody ever hear the like!” exclaimed Brinnaria. + +Vocco’s agents verified this news and made it quite certain that Almo +was masquerading as a slave and as a villicus of a fine estate in lower +Latium, near Fregellae, southeast of Rome on the Latin highroad, about +half way between Capua and the capital. + +Brinnaria found herself very much in a quandary, and discussions with +Flexinna and Vocco, however lengthy and however often repeated, left her +just where she started. They could not decide whether it was best to do +nothing or to interfere, and whether, if they were to interfere, what +form their intervention should take. + +Should Vocco travel to Fregellae and force an interview with Almo +and try to appeal to his better self? If so, should he do so without +apprizing Egnatius of the real name and origin of his overseer? Or +should they enlighten Egnatius under a pledge of secrecy and afterwards +decide whether or not to make an attempt to recall Almo to his natural +way of life? Should they do any of these things without appealing to +the Emperor or would it be better first to inform Commodus? They debated +over and over every line of conduct any one of them could suggest. After +all complete inaction and entire secrecy seemed best. + +This view was confirmed when Brinnaria consulted Celsianus, the most +reputed physician of Rome. She had already confided in Lutorius, who +informed Celsianus, arranged for an interview and was present at it. + +The great man said: “Almo is not necessarily or even probably deranged. +On the face of what you tell me the most unfavorable conjecture I could +form would be that he has resolved to commit suicide. You will say that +the idea is absurd, that suicide is easy and that the means are always +at hand, which is quite true. + +“But there are cases, more numerous than you could fancy, of persons +who make up their minds to bring about their end in some unimaginable +manner, of which nobody but themselves would ever have thought. Then +they lay complicated plans and by devious ways approach their purpose. +If they are thwarted or diverted, they never end their lives in any +other fashion than by the special method they have devised. + +“I am inclined to think that Almo’s entrance into a gang of +sword-fighters was caused by some such intention, that he is alive +because the circumstances he looked forward to never conspired to give +him just the kind of death he preferred. I am inclined to think that he +is now working towards some unthinkable exit 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 spontaneous yielding to a +genuine liking for the life he is living. What one human being likes +cannot be realized by other human beings, in many cases. + +“My advice is to let him entirely alone. If you interfere you may +precipitate his suicide, if he meditates suicide. By calling in the help +of the Emperor or of his owner or both, you may destroy the chances, the +very good chances, of his returning to his full senses. Men in his state +of mind are often sane in all respects, and, if unsettled, are deranged +only in one particular. They are generally wholly reasonable on all +points except as to their fad of the moment. If that wears off they are +entirely rational. Let him alone. Watch him, but take no other steps.” + +This advice seemed simple enough, but carrying it out proved more of a +strain than Brinnaria could have foreseen. The knowledge that Almo was +in Italy, near Fregellae, actually in Latium and within seventy miles +of Rome, that he was living in the hut of an under-farm-bailiff, that he +perhaps purposed some eccentric method of suicide proved racking to her +nerves. She became irritable and fidgety, her music failed to solace +or comfort her and sometimes almost bored her. She groped blindly for +something to distract her mind. + +First she had a brief but violent attack of solicitude for her pauper +tenants. She found entertainment in visiting her slum properties and in +endeavoring to alleviate the condition of their inmates. They were far +from grateful. To have a Vestal, clad in the awe-inspiring dignity of +her white robes, with all her badges of office, six braids, headdress, +headband, tassels, ribbons, brooch and all descend from her dazzlingly +upholstered carriage and invade the courtyard of their hive was +thrilling but still more disconcerting to a swarm of slum spawn. They +bragged of the honor for the rest of their lives and strutted over it +for months, but they were unaffectedly relieved to see her depart. + +Her inquiries as to their means of livelihood were excruciatingly +embarrassing. The Roman populace, all freemen with their wives and +children, were legally entitled to free seats at the spectacles and to +cooked rations from the government cook-shops in their precinct. They +throve on their free rations. Of their own efforts they had merely to +clothe themselves and pay the rent of their quarters. Cash for rent and +garments they obtained in whatever way happened to be easiest, often by +dubious means. 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 largest rookeries, and they +were better off than any tenants she had, too. What was more, not one of +their neighbors would impart any information about them.. + +Brinnaria’s curiosity was aroused. She bethought herself of Truttidius, +the sieve-maker, and of his intimate knowledge of all the dens and lairs +in the city. + +She asked him. He laughed. + +“On the Fagutal?” he made sure, “at the second corner beyond the end of +the Subura?” + +He laughed again. + +Then he tactfully explained that the tenants in that particular +congeries of buildings were professional secret cut-throats, good enough +husbands and fathers and amicable among themselves, but earning an +honest livelihood by putting out of the way any persons displeasing to +anybody able to pay for their services. + +Brinnaria abruptly ceased slumming. + +All the more she threw herself into her horse-breeding. She visited her +stud-farms oftener; and, oddly enough, as the result of her overwrought +state of mind, the management of the farms themselves came to mean less +to her than the means of reaching them and returning. She paid close +attention to the make of her road-carriage, to the speed and pace of +her roadsters. She bought picked teams of blooded mares, selecting them +especially for their ability to keep up a fast walk without breaking +pace. She boasted that she had six spans of mares, any one of which +could, at a walk, outdistance any team in Rome owned by anybody else. + +By specializing in fast-walking cattle she saved much time in passing +from the Atrium to the city gates and in returning. + +Outside the city her mares displayed their capacity for other paces +than the walk. She saw to it that her coachman kept them at their +utmost speed. The sight of her tearing along a highway became familiar +everywhere throughout the suburban countryside. She made a hobby of +extremely fast driving and of buying fast mares. + +Also she fell into another fad, at the time all the rage, invented since +the accession of Commodus and made fashionable by the young Emperor. +Some popinjay had conceived a whim for travelling by litter instead of +in his carriage. It was far less expeditious and far more expensive. But +the notion took. All at once every fop in Roman society must needs take +his country outings, go to his villa and come back from it, not in his +carriage but in his litter. The plea was that a carriage jolted and that +riding in a litter was less tiring. There was something in that, for +carriage springs had not been invented in those days. But mostly it was +just a craze among the very wealthy, as distinguishing them from people +who could afford but one set of litter-bearers. An ordinary four-man +litter could be used only for going about the city--longer distances +were impossible, and excursions into the country soon tired out eight +bearers. For road travelling one must have sixteen bearers, two sets +relieving each other in turn. Brinnaria bought sixteen gigantic negroes +and tested them on her inspections of her stock-farms. She tried German +bearers, Goths and Cilicians. Her bearers became famous for their speed +and endurance. If she heard of any squad reputed better than hers, +she bought it at any price, until, not counting the teams of bearers +belonging to the Palace, there was only one gang in Rome which she +envied. She tried to purchase them but could not. They belonged to her +mother’s friend Nemestronia. + +Nemestronia always had been a wonder and was a marvel. She was one of +the wealthiest women in Rome and had never been ill a moment in her +life. A very beautiful girl, she had kept her looks and a wonderful +singing voice, still clear and sweet when she was over sixty. She had +been, since within a year after her first marriage, one of the social +leaders of Rome. She had become the social leader of Rome, her influence +almost equal to that of the Empress. She had outlived three empresses +and had reigned unquestioned in the social world for over fifty years, +yet had not an enemy in Rome. Everybody loved Nemestronia. At the +time of the litter craze she had already celebrated her eighty-first +birthday, was plump, rosy, merry and spry, always ready for any +amusement, and was living happily with her fifth husband. + +She prided herself on her litter-bearers and with her unerring social +instinct anticipated the caprice of her world and provided herself +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 was willing to +exchange, if she could do so to her advantage. But sell she would not. +Amid her opulence no sum could tempt her. + +Brinnaria fumed and drove her horses almost to death, urged her +litter-men almost to exhaustion. But, with all her haste, care outpaced +her steeds or carriers. She gnawed her heart out. + +Only at Vocco’s house, amid Flexinna’s bevy of youngsters, did she 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 mixture strong.” After they had +eaten, none any too heartily, Vocco told his news. + +Almo had left his master’s estate without a permit, in plain words had +gone off like any runaway slave and had thereby exposed himself to the +penalties incurred by a fugitive. Egnatius had taken the usual steps to +recapture him, but neither he nor the authorities had any clue to Almo’s +whereabouts. As far as they were concerned he had vanished. + +He had not, however, eluded the vigilance of Brinnaria’s agents, of +the men Vocco had employed to keep him in view. They understood that +Egnatius was to be kept in ignorance of their activity, and gave no aid +to the police of the neighborhood in their efforts to retake him. They +had reported only to Vocco. + +Almo had money with him and at Arpinum had garbed himself decently +for the road. He avoided the main highway and wandered along by-roads, +zigzagging and circling about. He idled at inns, sometime for days in +one place, often in small towns, oftener at road-houses between. + +He was then near Atina. + +At intervals during June and July Vocco gave Brinnaria reports about +Almo. He seemed to enjoy the society of the casual travellers he met at +small inns and of the local frequenters of them. He got on famously +with everybody. Nowhere was he suspected of being a runaway slave and +naturally, for he had the unmistakable carriage and bearing of a born +freeman. The hue and cry Egnatius had set loose after him was active +wherever he went, but he sat under placards offering rewards for his +capture and no one applied the description to him. + +Early in June he was at Casinum and Interamna, before it ended at 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 than anywhere else. + + + +CHAPTER XVII - RECKLESSNESS + + +ON the fifteenth of that same August, not long after noon, Brinnaria was +much surprised by a call from Flexinna. + +“The most amazing weather that ever was,” Flexinna stated. “I never +heard of such, everybody says nobody ever heard of the like. Even +Nemestronia says she never saw or heard of anything to compare to it. +The densest imaginable fog, as white as milk. You c-c-can’t see across a +street, you c-c-can hardly see the bearers in front of your litter.” + +“I noticed it in the courtyard,” Brinnaria replied, “and it is thicker +than usual. But we often have morning fogs and I have seen several +almost as dense as this.” + +“Nothing unusual in a fog d-d-down hereabouts and along the river,” + Flexinna admitted. “B-B-But this fog is most unusual. It is all over the +whole city. I have lived on the Esquiline ever since 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. This fog 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 slaves to the P-P-Pincian and two to the +Aventine, and they reported that it is just as b-b-bad everywhere +as here and at home. And I met 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 all the 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 this time 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, “and went to +Aricia. Yesterday he challenged the K-K-King of the G-G-Grove.” + +“Just as Celsianus conjectured,” Brinnaria groaned. “Some unthinkable +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 something wrong with +your information. There is only one way to challenge the King of the +Grove and that is to enter the Grove with a weapon. Almost as many men +as women go to worship at the Temple of Diana in the Grove by the Lake; +the King of the Grove never notices any unarmed man. But let a man with +a weapon of any kind, spear, sword, or what not, even a club, step over +the boundary line of the Grove and that act of entrance there with a +weapon constitutes a challenge to the King of the Grove; at sight of an +armed man the King or the Grove attacks him. They fight then and there +till one is killed. The survivor is the King of the Grove. + +“The challenger is supposed to pluck a twig from the sacred oak-tree and +the act of picking the branch is supposed to be the challenge. But, in +practice, the King of the Grove watches the sacred oak so carefully, +that nobody remembers any challenger who succeeded 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 to challenge the +K-K-King of the G-G-Grove; that is to go to the Dictator 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 must face the challenger at +midnight next d-d-day. Meanwhile, the challenger is entertained in +the t-t-town-hall of Aricia. He is b-b-bathed, p-p-provided with fresh +c-c-clothing, g-g-given whatever food he asks for and accommodated with +a c-c-comfortable b-b-bed for the night after his challenge. Then, when +he has had a 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 them +two ancient shields, p-p-precisely alike, and two ancient Amazonian +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-town hall at Aricia. The +challenger plucks a t-t-twig from the sacred oak. Then he and the +K-K-King of the G-G-Grove face each other in the open space b-b-before +it. A shield and a b-b-battle-axe are handed to each. Then they wait for +the word of the Dictator of Aricia. 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 to +Brinnaria’s private apartment and had walked straight into Brinnaria’s +bedroom. In that small room they sat facing each other. + +“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?” Brinnaria wondered. + +“I had a notion,” Flexinna explained, “of trying to get to the G-G-Grove +by the Lake b-b-before the fight. I thought p-p-perhaps Almo 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 him to 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 as well 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 our b-b-bearers c-c-could never g-g-get there in +t-t-time for me to hope to d-d-do any g-g-good. I said I’d b-b-borrow +Nemestronia’s fastest gang. He said he c-c-could g-g-go and c-c-come +b-b-back on 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’s litter. +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 went just right. They’d +take at least eight hours for the return journey. 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 always ravenous when +I’m this way* and c-c-can never g-g-go from one meal to the next. I had +a k-k-kid-skin of wine p-p-put in the litter 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, “waiting for 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 stared at her, +horrified. + +“What for?” she quavered. + +“Undress first and ask afterwards,” Brinnaria commanded. “Undress, +woman, undress!” She was tearing off her clothes as she talked. + +“Can’t you see, you fool!” she hissed. “The gods have made it all easy. +The densest fog Rome ever saw and all over the country-side, a curtained +litter with the fastest bearers alive right at my door, my best friend +on horseback beside it, drink and food enough and to spare, me off duty +till to-morrow noon and you here to change clothes with me. I put on +your clothes and go save Almo.” + +“You’ll be outside Rome all night,” Flexinna objected. “That’s +sacrilege.” + +“Not a bit of it,” Brinnaria retorted. “I know a regulation from a +taboo. When the Gauls captured Rome the Flamen of Jupiter went up into +the Capitol with the garrison. He might not leave Rome, it would have +been impious. But the other flamens nd the Vestals left Rome, the +Vestals were months at Caere. It is not impiety for a Vestal to be +outside the city walls over night, it is merely forbidden by the rules. +I’m going.” + +“You might as well g-g-go b-b-bury yourself alive and b-b-be d-d-done +with it,” Flexinna protested. “You’re certain to b-b-be found out. It’s +sure d-d-death for you.” + +“Hang the risk!” Brinnaria snarled. “I never realized how much I loved +Almo till you brought this news. I don’t care whether I live 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 is to stay +abed and keep still. Utta will never tell and she won’t let anyone +in. Numisia will not suspect anything: any Vestal has the right to +twenty-four hours abed and no questions asked, Meffia spent one day out +of ten in bed. Manlia takes a day’s rest a dozen times a year. Even I +have done it several times, when I was sore all over with jolting too +long at full gallop over our so-called perfect roads. I was abed all +day about a month ago, and certainly I rove hard enough and long enough +yesterday and I was in the Temple half the night. I’ll be back here long +before noon to-morrow. + +“Don’t you see how easy it is? Flexinna has called on Brinnaria to-day, +as usual, except the hour. And Flexinna often calls on Brinnaria at odd +hours. Flexinna makes a short call and goes out to her litter. Flexinna +makes an excursion into the country in a litter with drawn curtains, +her husband riding by it. Nobody can take any notice of that. Flexinna +returns from her outing, calls at once on Brinnaria, pays a brief call, +goes out, gets into her litter and goes home. Brinnaria, refreshed by +twenty-four hours abed, goes about her duties. The plan simply can’t +fail.” She had on all Flexinna’s clothes by the end of her explanation +and was adjusting er two veils, one over her face, the other tied over +the broad-brimmed travelling-hat, so that the edges of the brim, drawn +down on either side, almost met under her chin and her face was lost in +it. + +Flexinna continued to protest feebly, but Brinnaria made her compose +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 and I am going +to stay there until the lady who has just called on me comes back. That +will be tomorrow morning. I am tired and need rest, the same as I did +the day after the axle broke and I barked my knee in the gravel. I am +not going out now; oh, no the lady going 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 with +pearly gray trimmings, feeling horribly conspicuous, but unaccosted and, +as far as she could judge, unnoticed, Brinnaria descended the stairs, +traversed the courtyard and passed the portal. Just outside, in the nook +left by the angle of the wall enclosing the Temple, she found the litter +set down clear of the throng that surged and jostled ceaselessly up and +down the Holy Street. The bearers stood about it, one holding Vocco’s +horse; all, like the street-crowd, vague and unreal in the fog. Through +the fog Vocco strode towards her and checked, amazed. She put her +fingers to the folds of the veil over her lips. + +“C-C-Careful,” she warned him, laboriously stuttering. “I am Flexinna +come back. Now for Aricia, as fast as the b-b-bearers can hoof it.” + +Vocco, dazed, helped her into the litter, gave the order and mounted his +horse. + +Composed in her litter, Brinnaria’s sensations were all of the +strangeness of the outlook; fog blurring the outlines of familiar +buildings; fog hiding the landmarks she looked for, fog wrapping her +round till she could hardly see the front pair of carriers tramping +ahead or even Vocco beside her on his horse; fog concealing all the wide +prospect of the levels south of Rome, fog so thick that they positively +groped their way through the towns along the road, fog so dense that she +could not discern the gradations by which afternoon melted into evening +and dusk into darkness. + +When they were clear of the city Vocco ranged his horse alongside the +litter and expostulated with Brinnaria, talking Greek that the bearers +might not understand. + +“The best thing you can do,” he said, “is to give up this harebrained +adventure and merely swing round through the suburbs for 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?” he asked. + +“I leave that to you,” she said; “you must manage to see the Dictator of +Aricia and tell him that you have with you a lady in a litter who must +speak to the challenger before the fight.” + +“I’ll attempt the commission,” said Vocco, “and I’ll do my utmost, but I +hold it impossible.” + +“In any case,” spoke Brinnaria, “I keep on even if I have to expose +myself and be recognized in Aricia.” + +Vocco gave up the effort to influence her. + +The roads joining the Appian Way were paved with similar blocks of the +same sort of stone. In the fog they went wrong three several times where +side-roads branched off at a thin angle. In each case they failed to +discover their mistake until they had gone on for some distance; in each +case they had to retrace their steps for fear of getting wholly lost if +they tried a cross-road; in each case they wasted much time. + +Twice the leading bearers were all but trampled on by the recklessly +driven horses of careless drivers. Both times the mix-up delayed them. + +Just beyond Bovillae they had a third collision, in which one pole of +the litter was snapped and two of the bearers injured. It barely missed +resulting in a free-fight. All of Vocco’s tact was needed to allay the +feelings on both sides. By great good luck he succeeded in getting a +substitute litter-pole from a near-by inn without too much publicity. + +The delays caused by missing the road and by collisions had cut down +the margin of time they had hoped for at Aricia. This last misfortune +delayed them so much that it seemed unlikely that they could reach the +Grove until midnight. + +In fact, before they reached Aricia, the road was alive with parties of +celebrants, men and women, but no children, every man carrying a lighted +torch, nearly every man accompanied by a slave with an armful or a +back-load of spare torches, all moving in the same direction with them. + +With torch-bearing crowds the streets of Aricia were jammed. From gate +to gate of the town they crawled, wading slowly through the press of +revellers. Along the road to the Grove they were as a chip floated along +on a tide of torchbearers, for the parties of worshippers converging to +their great local yearly festival from Tusculum, Tibur, Cora, Pometia, +Lanuvium and Ardea formed a continuous procession, their pulsing +torch-flames looking strange and 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’s extra bearers, +as horses were not allowed within the Grove or its precincts. + +Not much before midnight the bearers swung sharply at the brink of +the cliff and plunged down the steep narrow road cut along its face. +Brinnaria felt the dampness of the lake air on her cheek. + +By the Lake the fog was, if possible, more impenetrable than elsewhere. +The Grove, the lodging for the cripples and invalids who thronged the +place to be cured, the vast halls about the temple, the temple itself, +all were doubly whelmed in the darkness and the mist. + +Brinnaria made out only the six channelled vermilion columns of the +temple portico and the black boughs of the sacred oak. These, to right +and left of the temple area, showed vaguely in the light of thousands of +torches in the hands of the throng packed about it. + +Respect for a closed litter with sixteen bearers accompanied by a +gentleman in a Senator’s robes won them a way through the crowd, the +torches surging in waves of flame as they ploughed through. + +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 the pavement of the temple-area bright +under the splendor of the torch-rays; saw a dozen young women, dressed +in gowns of a startling deep orange, standing in a row clear of the +torch-bearing crowd; saw the five aldermen of Aricia in their official +robes, grouped about the square marble altar; saw before the altar a +circular space of clipped turf midway of the area pavement, saw standing +on it to the right of the altar the King of the Grove, clad in his +barbaric smock of dingy undyed black wool, his three-stranded necklace +of raw turquoises broad on his bosom, the fox-tails of his fox-skin cap +trailing by his ears; saw facing him Almo, bare-kneed, his hunting-boots +of soft leather like chamois-skin coming half way up to his calves, +his leek-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 hand she hardly +looked at him. She stared, fascinated, at the white marble 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 his hand. From +somewhere in the darkness behind the dozen simpering wenches appeared +two slaves, each carrying a small round shield and a double-headed +battle-axe. The shields had painted on each a horse, the battle-axes +were of the pattern always seen in pictures of the legendary Amazons. +The blade of each axe-head was shaped like a crescent moon. From +the inner side projected a flat, thick shank, by which the blade was +fastened to the helve. The curve of each blade made almost a half +circle, the tips of the crescents almost touched the haft between them, +so that their outer cutting-edges made a nearly complete circle of +razor-sharp steel, from which protruded the keen spear-head tipping the +shaft. + +Two of the aldermen received these accoutrements from the slaves. +Brinnaria noticed that one of the other aldermen held the broad, +gold-mounted, jeweled scabbard containing the great scimitar with which +the King of the Grove kept girt, waking or sleeping. She even noted how +its belt trailed from his hands and the shine of its gloss-leather in +the torch-rays. + +The two aldermen handed a shield and an axe to each contestant. One took +from Almo the oak-bough and passed it to the Dictator. + +The two champions fitted the shields on their arms, balanced them, and +hefted their battle-axes. Each assumed the posture that suited him best, +his feet well under him. So they stood facing each other, waiting for +the signal. + +The King of the Grove was a stocky, solidly-built ruffian of medium +height and weight. Almo seemed much taller and very much slenderer and +lighter. His delicate features and thin nose contrasted strangely to the +high cheek-bones, small, close-set eyes, 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 axe aloft. + +Each struck, each dodged, Almo awkwardly, his axe trailing behind him +after it missed. + +The stocky man thought he saw his chance and whirled his weapon, +bringing it down in a terrible sweep. Craftily Almo caught it against +his shield, just below the upper rim, horribly it grated against the +bronze plating of the shield, with the full weight of the mighty swing +it buried itself in the sod. + +The force of his blow carried the assailant with it so that he almost +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-skin cap 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 to stutter. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII - FURY + + +THE darkness of the night, the impenetrability of the fog and the +weariness of the bearers all contributed to impede their return journey. +While on her way and buoyed up by her wild purpose, Brinnaria had been +able to rest herself by dozing along the roadway and had remembered to +keep up her strength with food and wine. After they had turned back she +could not have swallowed anything, if she had thought to try, and the +nearest she came to sleep was an uneasy drowse which seemed a long +nightmare. The Cappadocians, famous for their strength, endurance and +indifference to wakefulness, exertion, hunger or thirst, were also +astute foragers. On their way from Rome the reliefs had invaded every +inn they passed and, lavishly provided with small coins by Vocco, had +provisioned themselves abundantly. These supplies they handed over to +their fellows when they took up the litter. All the way back the spare +carriers, plodding behind, munched their provender and conversed in +undertones. The bearers, necessarily flagging, trudged leadenly. + +Through it all Brinnaria was haunted by her memory of two pictures. + +One was of the row of saffron-clad hussies watching the fight. + +The King of the Grove was the only legal polygamist in Italy. +Concomitant with the barbarous and savage conditions determining his +tenure of the office as High Priest in the Grove by the Lake of Diana of +the Underworld, congruent with his outlandish attire and ornaments, he +had the right to have twelve wives at once. Seldom had a King of the +Grove failed to avail himself of the privilege; and, indeed, to have +twelve wives was regarded as incumbent upon him, as necessary to his +proper sanctity and as indispensable 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 dismiss her and +expel her from the Grove. Any former wife of his, when expelled or after +leaving the Grove of her own accord, became a free woman with all the +privileges of a liberated slave. Most of his ex-wives, however, elected +to remain in the Grove and formed a sort of corps of official nurses +for the sick who flocked there to be cured. In practice the King of the +Grove usually repudiated any wife who lost her youthful charms. + +His wives were commonly, like himself, truant slaves. + +Fugitive male slaves were an ever-present feature of country life in +all parts of the ancient world, as tramps are in modern times. A female +runaway, however, was a distinct rarity. But the sanctuary afforded them +by the Grove encouraged them about Aricia and many fled to it. If +young and comely they became wives of its King. Also slave-girls were +constantly being presented to him by grateful convalescents, who had +come to the Grove as invalids or cripples and had left it hale and +sound. Thus the twelve wives of the King were always as vital and buxom +a convocation of wenches as 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 future master, so +vacant-mindedly giggling and nudging each other. The impression they had +made on her nauseated her, while the memory of their red cheeks, full +contours, youthfulness and undeniable animal charm enraged her. + +The other picture which had branded itself on her memory was the sight +of Almo, straightening up after stooping over his butchered predecessor, +clasping the triple turquoise necklace about his throat. + +Almo was King of the Grove. + +At that thought and at the recollection of the dozen jades wriggling and +smirking, her blood boiled. + +By the margin of the cliff Vocco had had much ado finding his horse. +On the road back to Aricia they passed through many parties of belated +worshippers. As the torch festival kept up until dawn that town was +open all night. Unquestioned they passed in at a wide-open gate, through +torch-lit, but almost deserted streets, 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 stress kept on their +way after sunset. In general travellers halted for the night at some +convenient inn or town, or camped by the road if darkness overtook them +far from any hostelry. But on the night of the yearly festival of Diana, +many parties were abroad. Between Aricia and Bovillae they met several +convoys, and about half-way they were overtaken and passed by a rapidly +driven carriage, and somewhat tater by a troop of horsemen, trotting +restrainedly, one of them on a white horse which showed rather +distinctly, even in the fog and darkness. + +Near Bovillae they overtook the same band of horsemen, halted about the +wreck of two travelling carriages which had crashed together in the +fog. Two of the horses lay dead on the stones, killed to put them out of +their misery. From curb to curb the pavement was cluttered with pieces +of wreckage and the carcasses of the horses. The roadway was completely +blocked and the bearers, at first, could find no way around the +obstacle. + +Some women were wailing over a little boy whose leg had been crushed and +who was uttering frightful shrieks. The child screamed so terribly that +Brinnaria impulsively leaned half-way out of her litter, carried away by +her sympathies. Close beside her she saw the white horse and astride of +it, vague in the mist, but unmistakable in his lop-sided, bony leanness, +outlined against the glare of the torches behind him, she recognized +Calvaster. + +Instantly she shrank behind her litter curtains. + +Almost at once a relief bearer who had gone to scout reported a free +path through the fields by the road. + +They continued on their way. + +Bovillae, not being one of the towns participating in the Festival of +Diana, was closed for the night, its gates shut fast, its walls dark. +Going round it was a trying detour over rough cross-roads. + +After they were again on the Appian Road they were for a second time +overtaken by the same band of horsemen. When their hoof-beats had grown +faint in the distance ahead, Vocco ranged his 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 they reached as some +watery sun-rays struggled through the mist, held until they reached the +Atrium. + +Out of her litter tumbled Brinnaria in Flexinna’s rumpled finery, +feeling unescapably recognizable, even inside her double veil and under +her broad-brimmed, tied-down travelling hat. + +But the heavy-built, sinewy slave-woman who guarded the portal of the +Atrium passed her in without remark. She met no one on her way up to her +suite, where she found Utta squatted outside her bedroom door. + +Flexinna was incredulously delighted, pathetically overjoyed to see her. + +“You have a wonderful larder here,” she said. “Every single thing I +asked for was b-b-brought me at once. I d-d-didn’t have any 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 Utta massaging her +vigorously and methodically. After one comprehensive rubbing she went +off for hot milk, hot wine, honey, barley-meal and spices. The posset +she brewed she compelled her mistress to swallow. Then she gently +massaged her until she was asleep. Thanks to these attentions Brinnaria, +after some four hours abed, was able to reappear in the Temple looking +not much unlike a Vestal who had enjoyed twenty-four hours of unbroken +repose. + +Numisia appeared to suspect nothing. Certainly she remonstrated with her +and begged her not to exhaust herself so by hard riding. + +After that first sleep, induced by fatigue and by Utta’s ministrations, +Brinnaria slept little. She tossed and turned. Before her eyes was +continually the recollection of that row of saffron-clad minxes, of +their exuberant health, heartiness and rollicking vivacity. + +The memory of them suffocated her. In the Atrium she had to conceal her +inward convulsions of rage, had to appear calm, placid and collected. + +The effort made her the more explosive when she was at Flexinna’s and +could speak out. She stormed. + +Flexinna let her talk herself hoarse. But no amount of talking relieved +her. Whatever she said, no matter how often she had said it, she wound +up the same way: + +“Here I am, packed in ice, so to speak, for thirty years and there he +is, King of the Grove, with twelve wives, twelve wives, _twelve wives_!” + +Jealousy, in its most furious form, is not a mild malady, even in our +days, and in women of northern ancestry and cold blood. Brinnaria was a +hot-blooded Latin and the pulses of her heart were earthquakes of fire. +The Romans were a ferocious and sanguinary stock. Even among the most +delicately nurtured women love turned quickly into hate and solicitude +might in a brief time give place to the thirst for vengeance. + +Brinnaria struggled with herself for some days. + +Then she bade her coachman drive her to the Fagutal. Her appearance +among her tenants caused general trepidation, as usual. + +When the clustering drabs and brats discovered that she felt no present +interest in women and children, but that she demanded speech with the +men, the elder men, their dismay deepened into acute consternation. + +Since she would take no denial some dotards and striplings were routed +out and the patriarch of the clan was thrust forward. He looked senile +from his slippered feet to the shine on his bald-pate, he was blear-eyed +and hard of hearing, but he understood plain Latin when he heard it, he +knew of old the signs he read in the flash of her eyes, the set of her +jaw and every feature as she stood or moved. Also no dog ever had a +keener scent 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 was invited to +seat herself. Before her cringed, in attitudes of obsequious deference, +a group of as hulking, truculent, ruthless villains as could have +been found anywhere on earth. Just out of earshot 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, an appallingly +inhuman brute, acted as spokesman. + +At the first word their wary expression altered to one of brotherly +comprehension. There was a man to be killed. Pride in their vocation +shone all over them. Yes, they knew of the King of the Grove, who +did not? and they especially, since the patriarch’s grandfather, +great-grandfather to the spokesman, had at an advanced age ended his +life in the Grove, after years as its priest, having become King late in +life, the last of a long series of challengers whom the Emperor Caligula +had suborned against an insufferable and all but invincible hierophant. + +Could they find a swashbuckler willing to assail the present incumbent? + +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 about the +matter; what was more, the most inquisitive would never divine that they +themselves had any hand in the change of priests at Aricia. + +How could this be accomplished? + +In countless ways. One might find a discontented slave, mighty and +skilled with weapons, and reveal to him a means of bettering his +condition, or one might bribe the owner of a capable slave to wink at +his running away, or if no fit slave could be found, a suitable freeman +might be induced to become a slave under a master also in the plot. It +was easy, merely a matter of money. + +How much money would be needed? + +That would depend. If they could cajole a slave the job would call only +for cash for the instigator’s expenses, for journey-money and for +a good sabre for the challenger, and at the last a bonus for all +concerned. If a slave-owner had to be bribed, more cash and more money +for bonuses would be required. If a freeman had 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 the Tiber +Gate, round through the suburbs and in at the River Gate. She needed +fresh air. All the way, all the afternoon, all the wakeful night, she +was in an eery state of icy, numb exaltation. It was all over--Almo was +a dead man, she had avenged herself, she had vindicated the proprieties, +her wrath was righteous, her vengeance laudable. This tense condition of +her nerves lasted for some days. + +According to stipulation the messenger from the tenements on the Fagutal +was a decently clad woman of inconspicuously respectable appearance. +She came after an interval of about ten days. She was apologetic. Their +first champion had perished. + +Twice more she brought the same message. Then Brinnaria ventured a +second visit to the unsavory locality. She was sarcastic. The chief was +abashed. + +This, he said, was evidently a task unexpectedly difficult. The more +certain was it that they would measure up to the requirements. They felt +that their time-honored reputation was at stake. + +There followed for Brinnaria an exciting, a wearing autumn and winter. +For some months messages came to her at about nine-day intervals, all +of the same tenure. Towards mid-winter, on a mild fair day, she risked a +third expostulation with her hirelings. On an apologetic and humiliated +rabble she poured her scorn. + +Thereafter the messages came thicker, about one every four days, but +monotonously unwelcome. Brinnaria set her teeth and sent all the money +asked for. + +Meanwhile her wrath, her jealousy, her thirst for vengeance steadily +waned and their place was largely taken by admiration for Almo’s +incredible skill and by a sort of pride in him. + +But again and again the vision of the twelve baggages returned to her +and she steeled her heart. One warm June morning she lost patience and +burst in on her gang of cut-throats. + +Inundated by a cascade of vitriolic denunciations and stinging sneers +they hung their heads, too limp to utter a protest. The patriarch was +weeping openly. + +Turned from anger to curiosity she found the rookery was in mourning. +Their chief, the apple of their eye, aghast at the failures of his +minions, had himself undertaken to redeem their honor. For him they +grieved. They owned themselves beaten. They had scoured Italy, had sent +against Almo every promising bully in the fifteen districts. Their best +young men had gone, lastly their adored leader. They could do no more; +Almo was invincible. + +Brinnaria, reflecting that, after all, she was to blame for their +dejection and woe, that, after all, they had done their best, +distributed what cash she had with her and promised them a lavish +apportionment of gold. + +As she went she realized, as they realized, that the place would never +see her again. + +Next morning she sent for Guntello. That faithful Goth, still huge, +mighty and terrific, came, mild as a pet bulldog. + +“Go kill him!” she commanded. + +“Certainly, Little Mistress,” he acquiesced, “but whom am I to kill?” + +She explained. + +Guntello, always parsimonious, asked a moderate sum for the purchase of +a sabre and for road-money. She gave him ten times as much. + +When he was gone, she felt, as at first, a painful numbness of +exaltation. Almo was now certainly a dead man. + +This mood suddenly inverted itself into an uncontrollable passion f +solicitude. Off she posted to Flexinna and confessed everything to +Vocco. In a frenzy she demanded they again borrow Nemestronia’s litter +and that Vocco again accompany her to Aricia. To their expostulations +she retorted that go she would, if not escorted by Vocco, then alone, if +not disguised and in a borrowed litter, then in her own and openly, or +openly in her carriage or afoot if need be; but go she would! + +Flexinna succeeded in getting her to listen long enough to urge that +there was no need for her to go personally, as Guntello would obey Vocco +at sight of her signet ring, moreover that Guntello now had a long start +and that only a swift horseman might hope to intervene in time. To these +representations she yielded. + +Vocco returned amazed and manifestly relieved. He had arrived too late. +Guntello was dead. + +That night Brinnaria wept long and bitterly. + +“The poor, brave, harmless, faithful fellow,” she moaned. “Out of the +malignity of my heart, in my pride and callousness, I sent him to an +undeserved death! Oh, I am a wicked woman!” Strangely enough Guntello’s +death seemed to divert her mind entirely from the idea of avenging +herself on Almo. From hating him, she came to realize that she had +really loved him all the while, that she loved him unalterably. From +thinking that she desired his death she came to dread acutely that, +exhausted in body by more than a hundred fights in ten months and worn +by the strain of ceaseless anxiety 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. “At least you have +been outwardly collected. Nobody has suspected anything. But this is +terrible. A Vestal should menace no man’s life, should not desire any +man’s death. Far from it, her heart should 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 any wrathfulness +of the gods, or of their displeasure, and I am no longer as I was. That +is all over, I am chastened. I desire harm to no one. Quite the reverse. +What fills my mind now is the thought that, sooner or later, Alma must +perish at the hand of some challenger. I long to save him. I would move +earth and sea to save him. Must a King of the Grove live and die King of +the Grove? Is there no way to rescue him?” + +“Consult the Emperor,” said Lutorius. “He is Chief Pontiff of Rome.” + + + +CHAPTER XIX - COMFORT + + +COMMODUS received Brinnaria in the same palatial room in which she +had so often conferred with his father. The majestic impression of +the magnificent hall was, however, marred by the evidence of the young +Emperor’s chief interests. On one of the great chests lay a pair of +boxing gloves, on another a quiver of arrows and two unstrung bows, on a +third a bridle; a fourth was open and from it protruded a sheaf of +those wooden swords which the Romans used for fencing-practice as we +use foils. Commodus could never wholly free himself from his absorbing +passion 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 shoulders and bosom in long +ringlets. But in place of the gravity, wisdom, intelligence and sympathy +which had ennobled the countenance of Aurelius, his face wore an +expression of boyish frivolity, silly vanity, 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 in the 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 never yet any other words. + +He greeted her effusively, with a comical mixture of hobbledehoy +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 old Bambilio. That +is one for you. A juicier story I never heard. You are made of pepper. +And you saved the retiarius, the year after I was born. I’ve often +gloated over the story and wished I had been there to see. I was +there when you had your embarrassing experience and came through it so +gallantly. I was proud of you, like everybody else. I remember it well. +And Father gave me special instructions about you, so emphatically +that even scatter-brained as I am I have not forgotten them. I’ve been +meaning to have a talk with you ever since I took up this Emperor job. +But you know how it is. Every day there are ready and waiting for me to +do more things I really want to do than anyone man could get through in +anyone day, and three-quarters of them I have to forego doing because +of the pressure of my official duties. I can never seem to get time for +half the sword-exercise and archery drill and driving practice I need, +let alone for chats with heroines. + +“I trust you’ll accept my apologies. + +“There! That is all the talking I mean to do. I’m going to listen, now. +Tell me what you want and I’ll see your desire accomplished. I’ll do +anything for you, not only for your heroism and 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 man in Italy and I believe there are not a +dozen to equal you. + +“I’ve driven several pairs of your crack colts and they are paragon +racers, docile as lambs and mettlesome as game-cocks. + +“There! I’ve gone on talking! But I am really going to stop now 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 end quicker by beginning at +once. And take your time, I’ll talk to you till dark, if need be. You +are entitled to all of my time you choose to claim.” Brinnaria began at +the beginning and rehearsed her story fully, Commodus listening without +much fidgeting and interrupting only to say now and then: + +“Yes, I know about that. I remember that.” When she came to Almo’s +escape from Britain the Emperor slapped his thigh and emitted a sound +between a grunt and a squawk. + +“The joke is on me!” he guffawed. “Just like me! Father told me +particularly about his injunctions to Opstorius, and Pertinax himself +reminded me about Almo after Father’s death. But it all went out of my +head and I never thought of it from the moment Pertinax bowed himself +out until this very instant. I’ll make up to you for my forgetfulness, I +promise you. Go on.” Upon her telling of Almo’s idling at inns after he +ran away from Fregellae, Commodus cut in with: + +“I liked Almo, what little I saw of him, but I had forgotten him. +You make me remember him, make me recall trifling things about him, +attitudes, smiles, tones of his voice, witty replies, quips. I liked +him. But I like him better than ever from what you tell me of him. I +understand him. I know just how he feels. I long, sometimes, to chuck +Emperorizing and go off alone, with no responsibilities, and have a +really good time hobnobbing with the good fellows the world is full of. +I envy him. I dream of doing it, but he cut loose and did it. Good for +Almo.” At first mention of 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 paced the room +like a caged tiger. + +“Think of it!” he exclaimed. “Think of it! Your lad certainly has fire +in his belly, yes and brains in his head, too! Think of it! He thought +it all out up there in the raw all-day mists, thought it all out, and he +works towards his purpose like a pattern diplomat, like a born general, +like a Scipio, like a cat after a bird! Has himself sold as a slave, +bides his time, puts himself 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 in challenging the King of the +Grove. Oh, I love him! Only a prince of good fellows would have thought +of it. No ordinary adventure would divert him. He picks out the most +hazardous venture possible. Oh, I love him!” + +When she narrated her interchange of clothing with Flexinna and her +litter-journey, Commodus looked grave. The loutishness vanished from his +attitude and expression. He became wholly an Emperor. + +“Out of Rome, outside the walls, beyond the Pomoerium all night!” he +exclaimed. “That sounds bad. You were fool-hardy, too reckless entirely. +Why that is impiety. That amounts to sacrilege!” As with Flexinna, +Brinnaria reminded him of the Vestals’ flight after the disaster at +the Allia and of their sojourn at Caere, again emphasizing the contrast +between their unreprehended departure and the scrupulous steadfastness +of the Flamen 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 you that I like you, that +my Father trusted you so notably, and gave me such explicit and emphatic +injunctions about you, that you have made a clean breast of it all +to me. If I had known nothing more about you than I know of Manlia or +Gargilia, if I had learned of your escapade from anyone but you, I’d +have had you formally accused, tried, convicted and buried alive with +the utmost dispatch. + +“As things are, after all Father had to say about you, after his +detailing to me your several conversations with him, I understand, I +sympathize, I am convinced of the innocence of your feeling for Almo, +of the austerity with which you have banished from you all thoughts +unbefitting a Vestal and have postponed your anticipations of marriage +until your service shall have come to an end, I believe in the +impeccable correctness of your attitude. + +“But, without that, even having learnt of your prank from yourself, I +should have thought it necessary to lay the facts before the College of +Pontiffs and ask their opinion. It looks fishy, stravaging all over the +landscape after dark with a cavalier beside your litter all night +long. I comprehend, I condone, I judge that you have not impaired your +qualifications for your high office. I have no qualms. But it is well +for you that Father instructed me. Go on, tell me the rest.” Over the +fight he rubbed his hands and chirruped with delight, and, when she +spoke of the King’s harem, he burst into roars of laughter, rolling +himself on his throne, slapping his thighs, holding his ribs. + +“Oh you women,” he gurgled, “you are all alike, you Vestals as much as +the rest! The fire of womanhood smoulders under your icy composure like +the fires of Etna under her mantle of snow. + +“You more than most Vestals, of course. You are a real human being, you +are! So you went out to save him, even if you lost your life trying, +even if you were buried alive for it, and you came back hot, red hot, to +have him killed, and the sooner the better, it couldn’t be too soon for +you. + +“Oh, I’m glad you came. I haven’t been entertained like this since I was +made Emperor. Go on!” When she uttered the word Fagutal and told of +her visit to the rookery he had another fit of laughter and exhausted +himself with mirth. + +When she narrated the repeated failures of the champions she had +suborned and Almo’s uniform success, Commodus was in ecstasy. + +“He’s the boy for my money,” he cried. “He’s worth all the trouble +you’ve had with him. You’ll get a husband worth waiting for. He’s one in +a million. One hundred and five bouts in ten months and victor in all +of them! He’s a jewel, a pearl I I’d do anything for you, as I told you, +I’d keep myself on the rack day and night for you and him. You are a +pair! There’s not on earth the 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 of my time +and confided to me all the secrets of your heart merely to ease your +mind. There’s something you want me to do, some help you expect to gain +from me. You have given me no inkling of what it 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 save himself? Hasn’t +he convinced you of his ability to protect himself--Sooner or later? +Much later, very much later. And he’s more likely to be killed by old +age than by any weapon in the hands of any man. + +“I’ll never understand women. No man can, I suppose. You’re bent, bound +and resolved that he must die. You pour out gold like water to compass +his death. You have Italy ransacked for dexterous cutthroats. He never +turns a hair. It’s easy for him as for a Molossian dog to kill wolves. +He enjoys it; disposes of every man who dare face him. You can’t find +another bravo to take the risk, not for any money! Then, when he has +proved himself the best fighter in Italy, you face about and all of a +sudden you are in a wax for fear some one may kill him! + +“Nobody will ever kill him. You and I saw him dispose of more than a +dozen expert gladiators, one after the other; you saw how daintily +and adroitly he did, it. You have just described his fight with his +predecessor. It was over almost before it was begun. The incumbent was +a dead man from the moment he faced Almo. Both knew it, too, and, since +then he has done for the pick of the blackguards from all Italy. If +Ravax and his gang could find no one to face him, there is none; if no +man of that crew could best him, not Ravax himself, no man can best him. +Don’t you see?” + +“No, I don’t,” she said. “It will be just like his fights in the arena. +No matter how often he wins, he is bound to lose at last.” + +“Don’t you believe it,” Commodus argued. “I remember him well. I was +wild over him just after Father’s triumph and saw a good deal of him +before he set out for Britain. I was then no such all-round expert at +weapon-play as I have become since, but I was good for my age. I fenced +with him repeatedly and I know his quality. I had all the best swordsmen +in the capital pitted against him and not one of them was his match. +Murmex Lucro did not come to Rome till after Father’s death. So I never +saw Murmex and Almo fence. But let me tell you this: Murmex is the only +man alive who can fence with me for points and make anything like my +score. And Almo is the only man alive, except me, who is fit to face +Murmex on equal terms. There are only two men on earth who could kill +Almo in a fight with any kind of weapons--Murmex is 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 the room and +collected herself to resume her argument and make her next point. + +“Do you concede,” she queried, “that I have the right to be solicitous +about Almo’s life?” + +“Father said so,” Commodus replied, “and I never knew him to be wrong. I +took that opinion from him and I see no reason to change it.” + +“Do you concede,” she pressed him, “that I have the right to looking +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 King of the +Grove?” + +The young Emperor laughed merrily. + +“Don’t you worry about that, either,” he said. “I told you I’d do +anything for you and I meant it. I told you I’d do anything for Almo, +and I meant that too. But, as things are, doing what you want and what +is good for him will be doing just what I most want myself. I have a +frightfully poor memory. Barely seven years ago my Father triumphed +after what was thought a complete, decisive and crushing victory over +Avidius Cassius and a huge confederation of nomadic tribes. Cassius was +certainly abolished; he was buried. But after scarcely five years the +desert nomads were as active as ever and they have grown so pertinacious +and cocky that something must be done. I don’t want to go myself, and +I feel no confidence in my ability to accomplish anything if I went. +I have been on the rack to decide whom to send. I can’t afford 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. All the while I +have been cudgelling my brains trying to remember something Father told +me. I distinctly recalled that he said that he had in view the very +paragon of a commander to dispatch against Avidius, but that some +occurrence made it impossible to send him and he had to go himself. I +couldn’t for the life of me recollect what had happened to hinder +the man going or what the man’s name was. Since it was a verbal +communication from Father I had no memorandum and no one else had ever +known it. + +“Now I remember that Almo was the man and that his infatuation with the +life of a gladiator was what prevented. + +“Do you see what I mean? I shall not have to go to Syria and I’ll send +the very best man for that job who can be found on earth. If anybody +knows what I’m doing they’ll say that Almo is a lunatic and I am another +to send him. But nobody will ever know and if everybody knows, what do I +care. Father knew a good man when he saw one. I’ll take his word for it +that Almo proved himself the greatest genius for desert fighting that +the Republic has produced in a hundred years. And I’ll follow my +own intuition that a swashbuckler whose own thoughts prompted him to +challenge the King of the Grove as a cure for tedium, who had the nerve +to carry out the idea and the skill to win a hundred and six fights in +ten months must be a good all-round man and a real man clear through. +I take it that being put in supreme command of a great expedition will +brush the cobwebs from Almo’s brain and restore him to himself. Do you +follow my idea?” + +“I cannot conjecture,” Brinnaria replied, “how you expect to carry it +out.” + +“Simple enough,” said Commodus. “I’m not the man my Father was, not by a +great deal. I am a natural all-round athlete, but I was never born to be +an Emperor. All the same, when I buckle down to my job, I’m not such a +bad hand at it. If I have a talk with Almo I’ll swing him my way without +half trying.” + +“But,” Brinnaria interposed, “even you, even as Emperor and Chief +Pontiff, cannot free a man who has become King of the Grove. There is +no record of any form of exauguration for a Priest of Diana of the +Underworld. There would be an outcry. Once King of the Grove a man must +live out his life as King of the Grove.” + +Commodus grinned a school-boy grin. + +“My dear,” he said, “there are more ways of killing a dog besides +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 without being killed?” + +“Yes,” she admitted. + +“Well,” he continued, “what was done?” + +“Two challengers were brought forward,” she said, “and they fought each +other.” + +“Just so,” said he, “and don’t you recall one case where a King 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,” she allowed. + +“Well,” he summed up, “that’s what we’ll have done now. Almo will +vanish. He’s good at it, he’s had practice. Two challengers can be found +easily enough.” + +“But,” she cavilled, wide-eyed, “there’s all the difference in the world +between egging on two challengers after the post is vacant and arranging +to vacate the post. What you propose would be sacrilege, impiety.” + +“Don’t you worry about that!” he soothed her. “The priesthood at Aricia +is no part of our hierarchy; the safety of Rome in no way depends on its +sanctity. It is important enough for the nine towns that share the cult, +but it concerns no others. It’s an alien cult, anyhow. Whether Orestes +brought it to Aricia or Hippolytus or who else makes no difference, +nor the tradition that it is four hundred years older than Rome. It’s +a disgrace to Italy and it exists on sufferance. Father told me that +Grandfather and he were both in half a mind to have it suppressed as the +Bacchanals were suppressed. The curative repute of the Grove stood in +the way. As for me, if it were not for the sporting character of the +King’s tenure, I’d see to it that Almo would be the last King. I feel +free to do as I please in any matter that concerns it.” + +Brinnaria said nothing. + +He resumed: + +“Leave it all to me. I’ll go to Aricia myself; I’ll expostulate 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 to obey 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 and appearance. One dark +night Almo will slip off in charge of the men I delegate for that duty; +the two challengers will be guided so 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 will suspect anything.” + +About a month later Lutorius conveyed to her a hint from the Emperor. +She at once applied for an audience. + +Commodus was as expansive as a boy who has had a good day’s fishing. + +“It’s all over,” he said, “and everything went off just as I foresaw and +planned. Almo was disgusted and tractable. We found two desperadoes of +suitable make. While we steered them at each other Almo slipped out. +Besides you, your two friends, your agents, Lutorius and myself, no one +knows that Almo was ever King of the Grove. I had him brought to the +Palace and Lucro and I had no end of good fun fencing with him. I +had the Senate pass a decree relieving him of all and sundry legal +consequences of having been sold as a slave in Britain. I had him choose +a full staff of the best possible aides, orderlies and such. He is off +to Syria. I did not send for you until I had word that he had not +only sailed from Brundisium but had actually landed at Dyrrhachium. I +anticipate that the job I have sent him on will take all of six years. +Just about when your service is drawing to an end he will return to Rome +covered with glory and loaded with loot. The nomads have been plundering +our cities and have accumulated 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 feelings fervently. + +“And now,” said Commodus, “since I have done what you wanted and you are +pleased, may I ask a favor of you? You can do something for me that +no one else can and if you promise it will set my mind at rest to some +extent.” + +Brinnaria earnestly promised to do her best. + +“I am troubled,” said the Emperor, “very much troubled. You know how +rumors get about among people, starting no one knows where; and how, +when such a notion is abroad, nothing on earth can counteract it. + +“Well, there’s a story going about of an oracle, an oracle which says +that the Republic reached its acme under Trajan, that the Empire kept up +its prosperity under Hadrian and my Grandfather and Father, but that the +glory of Rome is fated to fade and wane and that its decline will date +from my taking over the Principiate. + +“I am worried about it. I have sent to Delphi and Dodona and every other +oracle from Olisipo to Pattala, but I can find no record 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, Delphi too. They +all hedge; not one is clear. But they all speak of an impending disaster +that may be averted by watchfulness. And they all hint darkly at some +danger to the Palladium; they all mention it somehow; most of them +allude unmistakably to the Temple of Vesta; some of them manifestly +refer to the Atrium; all of them speak of fire. + +“Now I know that the sacred fire will be cared for by you and Manlia and +Gargilia and Numisia as well as ever it was since Numa. Causidiena is +too old to count and Terentia is too young, but in the four of you I +have complete confidence as far as the fire is concerned. + +“About the Palladium I don’t feel so sure. The six terra-cotta chests +are so exactly alike and the five counterfeits are so like the real +statue that I am afraid the precautions taken to baffle an 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 Vestal five years +Causidiena showed me the Palladium. No Vestal is ever shown it until she +is over fifteen. Like all other young Vestals I 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 very small, +mostly in the carving of the folds of the gown. But every young Vestal +is drilled until she can recognize the genuine relic by touch, one +hundred times out of one hundred times, and until she can similarly +discriminate the terra-cotta chest that contains it from the other five +chests. I could tell the Palladium from the imitations instantly any +time.” + +“You relieve me,” said Commodus. “I’ve wanted to talk about this to +all you Vestals, but I’ve been ashamed to broach the subject. Since you +confided in me I feel no hesitation about confiding in you.” + +“I promise you,” said Brinnaria, “that the Palladium will never 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 felt a special +interest in the Palladium. Ever since I was old enough to 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 of being in charge of four of the seven +objects on the safety of which depends the safety of Rome and the +prosperity of the Republic. Whenever Causidiena has shown them to us +younger Vestals I have felt the strongest emotions at the sight of the +jar containing the ashes of Orestes, of the antique gold canister +which protects the plain, gold-mounted ivory sceptre of Priam, of the +lapis-lazuli casket which enshrines the tatters remaining of Ilione’s +veil; but more than at sight of them I have trembled with awe to look at +that little statuette, no longer than my forearm, and to think that if +it were destroyed the Empire would crumble and Rome would perish. You +maybe sure I shall do all I can to keep safe the precious treasure +committed to my charge.” + +“I feel sure you will,” said Commodus. + + + + +BOOK IV--THE REVULSION OF DELIGHT + + + +CHAPTER XX - ACCUSATION + + +AFTER Almo’s redemption and his departure for Syria Brinnaria calmed +down. Her feverish activity abated and vanished. She ceased to take any +interest in the speed of her litter-bearers or of her carriage-teams. +She took her outings for their own sake, not merely to feel herself +transported rapidly from somewhere to anywhere. She kept an oversight of +her stock-farms, but she left the management of them almost entirely to +her bailiffs. On music she spent more of her time and in it she took an +intenser delight. + +Life in the Atrium altered chiefly through the growing up of Terentia, +whose fifteenth birthday was celebrated soon after Almo left Italy, and +by the steady waning of Causidiena’s eyesight. She could still recognize +familiar persons when between her and the strong light of a door or +window in the daytime; she could still place pieces of wood on the fire, +if it was burning well. But she was plainly verging on total blindness. +Except in so far as it was modified by pride in Terentia and solicitude +for Causidiena, life in the Atrium flowed on as it had for centuries. + +Reports from Almo were uniformly good. From the first he displayed +all the qualifications requisite for a commander in chief. For him +everything promised well. + +Under these conditions Brinnaria throve. Her natural vigor had always +been such that she never had showed any outward signs of the strain +to which she had been subjected. Uniformly she had looked handsome and +healthy. But now, if anything, she looked healthier and handsomer than +ever. She was then thirty-two years old. At ten years of age she had +looked eighteen, at eighteen she had looked twenty-four. At thirty-two +she still looked no more than twenty-five. Her hair was abundant and +glossy, her eyes bright, her cheeks rosy; she was neither slender nor +plump, but a well-muscled, graceful woman, decidedly young-looking, and +altogether statuesque in build and carriage, but very much alive in her +springy suppleness. + +About a year after Almo’s departure for Syria Lutorius came to see her +one morning, his face grave. + +He indicated that they had best confer alone. In her tiny sanctum he +came straight to the point. + +“Daughter,” he said, “my news is as bad as possible. You are formally +accused of the worst misconduct.” + +“Why look so gloomy?” said Brinnaria. “That is comic, not tragic. Who’s +the fool accuser?” + +“Calvaster, as you might conjecture,” he answered; “and grieve to have +to inform you,” he added, “that this is no laughing matter.” + +“Pooh!” said Brinnaria. “I’m not a bit afraid of Calvaster. Aurelius +gave Commodus emphatic injunctions about me. And he went into details. +Commodus can’t have forgotten his reprimand to Calvaster nor his +categorical threat.” + +“I fear,” said Lutorius, “that his father’s instructions on that +particular point are not well to the front of the Emperor’s mind.” + +“Well, anyhow,” said Brinnaria, “everybody knows my preoccupation with +Almo and everybody saw my behavior in the Amphitheatre. I feel pretty +safe in respect to my general reputation. As to particulars, I’ve been +vigilantly careful to keep away from Almo. Except twice, in the +presence of Aurelius, I haven’t been within speaking distance of him in +twenty-two years. Between the fact that no one can prove that I have had +anything to do with him and the improbability that anyone would suspect +me of interest in any other man, let alone misconduct with any other +man, 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 the man?” + +“Not so easy to confute, I fear,” said Lutorius. “The man named is +Quintus Istorius Vocco.” + +“Whew!” cried Brinnaria, springing to her feet and snapping her fingers. +“That is ingenious! That will give me trouble! I didn’t credit Calvaster +with that much sense. I never thought of anyone looking askance at my +relations with Quintus. I’ve never taken any precautions as to when +I was with him or how long or where. I’ve treated him as an honorary +brother, seeing I have no brothers of my own left alive. Flexinna has +been such a sister to me, that we have disregarded Quintus almost as if +he were a slave or a statue or a picture on the wall or another woman. +Whew!” + +“You perceive,” said Lutorius, “that the situation, in general, is very +serious?” + +“I do, indeed!” admitted Brinnaria. + +“Serious as it is in general,” he went on, “it is still more serious in +particular. Your excursion to Aricia was by no means as 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 clothes and +recognized you. She entered your room and talked with Flexinna. She +summoned me and we conferred. We both loved you and we both believed +in you. We were solicitous for the cult, but we were nearly as much +solicitous for you. We agreed that we were almost fully warranted in +assuming your entire innocence of heart and that your impulsive behavior +would not alienate the good will of the Goddess. We decided to take +it upon ourselves to judge you blameless and to shield you. Utta +was instructed never to let you know that Numisia had seen Flexinna; +Flexinna, of course, fell in with our plans. Numisia made every +arrangement that would prevent any more from learning the secret and +would make your return easy. + +“After you came back safe our decision seemed justified. I talked with +Vocco and learned that nothing had occurred to render your exposure +likely, except your encounter with Calvaster. As we heard nothing from +Calvaster we felt entirely successful. It turns out that he was only +biding his time. He has formally accused you before the College of +Pontiffs, alleging in general your long-continued familiarity with +Vocco, and, in particular, your having been outside of Rome after +midnight in Vocco’s company.” + +“Whew,” Brinnaria exclaimed, “this is indeed serious! I feel myself +strangling or starving in a vaulted cell. What am I to do?” + +“See Commodus first of all,” said Lutorius. + +In the short interval since her former audience, those traits of which +he had previously shown the merest traces had rapidly developed in +Commodus into fixed characteristics. He had become what he remained +until his end, an odd mingling of loutish, peevish school-boy, +easy-going, self-indulgent athlete and superstitious, suspicious despot. + +“To begin with,” he said, “I want you to understand that I like you, +that I haven’t forgotten that you rescued the retiarius, whopped +Bambilio and behaved like a trump when Father tested you. I’m for you. +Your colts are the cream of Italian stud-farms. You are a wonderful +woman, all round. But, as a Vestal, you have your weak points. I +remember Father’s instructions about you and I have all that in mind. +Besides, I know that I, as Chief Pontiff, have the right to make my own +decision about any such matter and to brush aside anybody else’s opinion +and anybody else’s interpretation of the evidence. Also my impulse is +to make use of my prerogative, dismiss the accusation against you, +reiterate Father’s warning to Calvaster and get the whole thing off my +mind. I don’t like Calvaster and I don’t value him an atom. They say +he’s indispensable, but if he irritates me ever so little more I’ll +dispense with him and I’ll wager the Republic will get on without +him. You see that I am strong on your side and almost on the point of +deciding in your favor. + +“But I hesitate. This case of yours worries me more than anything that +has come up since I took over the Principiate. I cannot make up my mind. + +“I’m not the man I was a year ago. I’m shaken. Father told me that the +most wearing feature of his being Emperor was his recurring escapes from +assassination. I had my first escape just after your audience with +me. It jarred me horribly. The fool barely missed finishing me. The +experience made me take precautions and so no other miscreant has come +so near to doing for me. But the repetitions have grown monotonous. +I always thought highly of your lad, and I’ve often wondered how he +managed to get any sleep or swallow any food while he was King of the +Grove, but I think immeasurably more of him since I’ve been through +something faintly similar. He deserves the best of life and I hope he’ll +get his heart’s desire and marry you at the end of 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’d need no +man’s advice and I’d listen to no man’s opinion. I’m better fitted to +judge a horse than any man alive. It would be the same if it were +a question of refereeing a sword-bout or a boxing-mill or a +wrestling-match or anything of the kind. I know all about such things +and I know that I am a judge superior to anybody on earth. I’m a born +all-round athlete and everybody knows it and recognizes me as a past +master. + +“But as an Emperor, as Chief Pontiff, such is not at all the case. I +feel a fumbler, a bungler. I grope. I suspect that the judgment of my +advisers is better than mine. What is worse, I know that they think so. +I am surrounded by men pre-eminent in their specialties, who look on me +as a green boy placed by mere chance in a position which I fail to fill +adequately. They watch me like hawks, they expect to see me blunder, +they raise eyebrows at each other, they exchange glances. It rattles me. +I wish I had Alexander’s nerve. He was as young as I am and he brooked +no opposition, but rammed his opinions down his councillors’ throats +from the hour when he became King. But I haven’t his nerve, not by 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 a book. + +“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 the prophecies +and auguries and oracles and such. They all hint at my impairing the +prosperity of the Republic or diminishing the power of the Empire. It +gallies me when I see two old bald heads wink at 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 educated magnates of lofty +principles. They seem to feel I am an unworthy Prince and that to kill +me would be a service to the state. It galls me to think of it, and me +doing my best for the Republic and the Empire, denying myself hours of +pleasure daily, missing races and all kinds of contests and toiling over +documents and estimates and statistics. But it is true. If I decide this +case of yours, ten to one any number of self-righteous nobles will say +to themselves: + +“‘Here is this lout on the way to destroy the foundations of Rome’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 dare not let loose any such +possible fanaticism for my own destruction. + +“And apart from any qualms about my qualifications to judge, apart from +any dread of the consequences to myself, of absolving you, there is my +sense of duty to Rome. Here are these cursed ambiguous oracles hinting +some harm to Rome, mentioning fire and the Temple of Vesta and the +Palladium. Perhaps what they mean is just the possible wrath of Vesta at +an unworthy priestess. How can I tell? + +“You see why I hesitate?” + +Brinnaria nodded. She judged it no time to speak, and, had she wished to +speak she could hardly have done so. + +“I might not have hesitated,” Commodus resumed, “if Calvaster had come +to me. But he pops up in a full meeting of the College of Pontiffs and +says he saw you, after midnight and before dawn, on the Appian Road, +between Aricia and Bovillae, in a litter that didn’t belong to you +and with Vocco on horseback beside it. That puts all the Pontiffs in +possession of the facts and on the watch to see how I’ll decide, if I +do decide. Calvaster made sure of proving those facts, for he had two +highly respectable and respected nobles to swear that they were with him +and saw Vocco and the litter and knew the litter for Nemestronia’s. That +he had any number of witnesses to swear to the frequency of your visits +to Vocco’s house, your habit of dining there and the freedom with which +you treated him. + +“My impulse was to tell Calvaster I disbelieved any story he fathered, +that I had my Father’s instructions discrediting him, that I knew all +about your intimacy with Flexinna and her husband, that I knew all about +your excursion to Aricia and why you went and that I approved and that +was the end of it. I have told you why I hesitated. + +“But I was inclined that way. I have talked with Lutorius and Causidiena +and Numisia. They feel towards you as my Father felt. They believe +in you and in your worthiness as a priestess, and they minimize your +irregularities. I sent for Flexinna and talked with her. She deserves +consideration, if only because she is the mother of the largest family +to be found among our nobility, even among our gentry. She hoots at the +idea of anything improper between you and Vocco, in act or thought. She +evidently tells the truth. It is plain that she and Vocco are a devoted +pair, that you 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 I +should do, but I am not quite clear. + +“Now, there are only two ways to settle this: one is for me to settle +it myself and out of hand. The other is to have a formal trial of you +before the College of Pontiffs. + +“If you are tried you’ll be condemned. All you can say of the innocence +of your intimacy with Vocco, all you can say of the innocence of your +regard for Almo, all I can say of my Father’s high esteem of you, of his +injunctions regarding you, will not avail to save you. The Pontiffs will +not heed the considerations which were so plain to Father and are +so plain to me and Lutorius and Numisia. They will say it makes no +difference whether you went to Aricia because of solicitude for Almo +or on account of an intrigue with Vocco. They will hold that such a +manifestation of interest in Almo proves you almost as unfit to be a +Vestal as if it were certain that you were philandering with Vocco. + +“In particular they will hold that there might be room to absolve you +had you openly gone to save Almo in your full regalia and in your own +carriage, or your own litter, with your lictor before you; but that +while the fact of your being out of Rome all night in a litter is +damning enough, the appearance of duplicity and underhanded secrecy +given to the proceeding by your being disguised in another woman’s +clothing and carried in a borrowed litter makes terribly against you. + +“Of course I could impose my will on the Pontiffs, but I should hesitate +to override their decision, even more than I hesitate to decide the case +myself, and for the reasons I have given. + +“Yet I must say I could forget my dread of assassination and ignore any +opinionated contempt I might evoke, if I could be sure in my own heart +that I am doing what is best for Rome; I should be as arrogant an +Emperor as ever Domitian was if only I felt confident that my instincts +are right. My instincts all urge me to act as an Emperor and a Pontifex +Maximus and settle this matter out of hand, once and for all. + +“But I hesitate. I can’t make up my mind. All I need is a sign that you +are as acceptable to Vesta as I believe you are. I have tried to satisfy +myself, to elicit some sign of the Goddess’ will, but no sign has been +vouchsafed me. I’ve had the Sibylline Books consulted, which is a trying +matter with Calvaster left out of the consulting board; I have sent to +every oracle within reach, have put questions to all the sibyls in all +the caves of Italy, have called in a rabble of Etruscan soothsayers, +every haruspex and auspex in Etruria, I believe. They all hedge. They +are all vague. They are all indefinite. They give me no help! + +“Now, I like you; I like Almo; I like both of you and I respect you; I +believe in you. I’d hate to wake up and call for any breakfast I had a +whim for and look at it and smell it and think of you, all alone in the +dark in a vaulted cell six foot under 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 want to 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 I hesitate because I am resolute to do my duty to Rome according +to my lights. I feel I am right, but I am not quite man enough to follow +my feelings. If I could have some plain sign that Vesta understands and +condones your past irregularities as I do, that Vesta approves of you +and is pleased with you as I am, if I could feel Vesta corroborating my +feelings, if I could evoke an unmistakable token of her will, I’d not +hesitate. I’d scout the suggestion of a trial; I’d squelch Calvaster; +I’d absolve you.” + +Brinnaria looked straight into his goggling, bloodshot eyes. + +“Would you consider it an unmistakable sign,” she said, “a plain token +of my acceptability to my Goddess, of her esteem for me, if Vesta gave +me power to carry water in a sieve?” + +Commodus goggled his eyes at her even more than habitually. + +“Carry water in a sieve,” he cried, “as Tuccia did?” + +“There is a legend,” said Brinnaria sedately, “that some Vestal once +proved her holiness by carrying water in a sieve. And the story is +connected with Tuccia in popular tradition. But if it was ever done some +other Vestal did it. Poor Tuccia was innocent, as far as I can judge +from the minutes of her trial. But she was not absolved, by intervention +of Vesta or of her judges. She was condemned and buried. You can read +the verdict as well as the details of the proceedings in the records. +And what is left of poor Tuccia is now in one of those tiny vaulted +cells under the Wicked Field. You will find, along with the documents +of her case, the bill for the wages of the mason who completed the vault +after she had descended the ladder and the affidavits of the sentinels +who patrolled the spot day and night for a month, according to custom.” + +“Never mind who did it or didn’t do it, or whether it ever was done at +all before,” said Commodus, “if I saw you carry water in a sieve I’d +hold it a plain sign of Vesta’s particular favor to you, of your special +acceptability to her, of the correctness of my intuitions about you and +about this whole wretched business. + +“Do I understand you to offer to demonstrate your innocence by carrying +water in a sieve?” + +“That is my offer!” said Brinnaria. + +“But,” he protested, “the thing can’t be done. It’s impossible! Better +stand your chance of a trial.” + +“I am sure,” said Brinnaria, “that my Goddess will not desert me. I know +I am innocent and acceptable to her. She knows me and will give me the +power to prove my worthiness. She will no fail me. I know I can do it.” + +“Do I understand you to offer to do it in broad daylight before me and +the whole College of Pontiffs, Calvaster and all?” + +“In sight of all Rome,” said Brinnaria, “if all Rome could crowd near +enough to see.” + +“Do I understand you,” said the Emperor, “to stake your life on the +venture, and, just as you would expect full absolution if you succeed, +so to expect a rigid and severely stern trial before me and the College +of Pontiffs, with your failure counting against you, if you fail in the +attempt?” + +“That is my understanding,” said Brinnaria, unflinching, her clear 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 first class game +sporting offer! I like you, girl! I like the idea. I see my way to a +decision. I glimpse a method of banishing my hesitation. I’ll take you. +If you agree, clasp hands, like a man.” + +Brinnaria stood up and put out her hand. + +“For life or death,” said the Emperor. + +They clasped hands. + +“Done!” said Commodus. + + + +CHAPTER XXI - ORDEAL + + +THE next day Commodus, officially, in his full regalia as Emperor +and Pontifex Maximus, convoyed by a magnificent retinue of gorgeously +apparelled gentlemen-in-waiting, equerries, aides, orderlies and pages, +and of gaudily uniformed guards, paid a formal visit to the Atrium. + +He was received by Lutorius, Causidiena and Numisia, who had been in +close conference most of the previous afternoon and until late at night +and again most of the morning from dawn. Causidiena, on account of her +failing sight, was escorted by Manlia and Gargilia. + +After the exchange of ceremonious greetings Commodus asked: + +“Where is Brinnaria? Why isn’t she here?” + +“We thought best,” Causidiena replied, “that she should not be present +at our conference.” + +“As to part of it I quite agree,” said the Emperor. “Fairness to her +requires that much of what we have to say should be said in her absence, +as she must be free from any suspicion of participation in some of our +arrangements. But part of what we have to say she must hear and some +details I must talk over with her. 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 sleep did I get last +night. I’m not clear yet altogether, but I see daylight on several +points. + +“What you propose is more or less like interpreting the significance of +the appearances seen in the victim’s intestines after a sacrifice for +a specific object; it amounts to asking a definite question of your +Goddess and getting a yes or no answer. + +“That is one way to regard it and seems to me correct from the religious +point of view. + +“But there is another point of view and another way to regard it, 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 utmost importance, +that there should be no differences of opinion between the principals +or among the backers or lookers-on after the contest or during its +progress; particularly that no unexpected differences of opinion should +crop up after starting the set of actions which determine the decision. +To avoid all such untoward possibilities, every detail must be settled +in advance before the matter comes to a test. + +“Now, treating your appeal to Vesta not only as a solemn invocation of +the Goddess, but also as a sporting chance, I intend to have a definite, +unquestionable understanding beforehand on every debatable point. + +“You see what I mean? + +“Some of the points we others will settle without you, but we shall +begin with those which you must settle or share in settling. + +“I and Lutorius, Causidiena and Numisia are to be the witnesses to the +stipulations and our agreement on any point is to prove that point. I +propose to make it impossible for there to be any misunderstanding +or disagreement among the four of us, to make it certain that we four +think, speak and act unanimously on all points whatever. Nothing must be +assumed, everything must be explicit. + +“To begin with, is this a fair statement of your proposal? + +“You maintain that you are a worthy priestess of Vesta and wholly +acceptable to her. You propose to demonstrate this by asking of her the +power to carry water in a sieve in the sight of the whole College of +Pontiffs and of such other persons as I may see fit to have present at +the test. If you fail you will expect to be tried for misconduct. If +you succeed you will expect to be then and there absolved from all +accusations and imputations connected 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, or what?” + +“I assumed,” said Brinnaria, “that I would carry water from the river, +in accordance with the legend of my predecessor: Father Tiber being +himself one of our gods, one of the sternest to evildoers, yet to the +righteous most kindly and helpful.” + +“Excellent!” said the Emperor. “My notion precisely. That is settled. I +accordingly appoint as the place of your test the Marble Quay, since +the porticoes flanking it shut out the mob and protect the Quay from +intruding eyes, and since the space enclosed by them is ample for +the assemblage of the College of Pontiffs, the Senate and the Court +officials. Are you satisfied with that place?” + +“I am,” said Brinnaria. + +“In what kind of a sieve do you propose to carry water?” came the next +question. + +“A sieve,” said Brinnaria, “is a sieve.” + +“Not at all,” Commodus objected. “There are sieves and sieves.” + +“Well, of course,” Brinnaria reflected, “I do not mean a broken, +worn-out or imperfect sieve, nor one incompetently made.” + +“Just so,” the Emperor amplified. “You propose to carry water in a sieve +with a circular rim, without any hole, crevice or crack in it and with a +web stretched taut on the rim, evenly woven 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 it fulfills the +conditions you have just specified. I leave the choice of material to +you.” + +“That is the correct attitude for you,” said Commodus, “and does you +credit. + +“And now I think we four will settle the other details without you. Do +you agree to that?” + +“No!” Brinnaria objected. “I think I should be a party to the settling +of several other details.” + +“What are they?” Commodus queried. + +“In the first place,” said Brinnaria, “there should be the clearest +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 my thumb-nail +would not be enough, I presume. That would not be considered as +demonstrating my innocence. You would expect me to carry more water than +that. On the other hand, to exact that I carry a sieve full of water to +the top of the rim, as if it were a pan, would be unfair to me.” + +“I see,” said Commodus. “I should lay down the condition that the water +must cover the web of the sieve entirely and touch the rim all round, +and that it should be a finger-breadth deep. Deeper than that it need +not be, that depth would prove the favor of your Goddess as plainly as +if you carried all Tiber. Is that all? If not, what next?” + +“Next,” she said, “it ought to be definitely agreed how far I must carry +the sieve with the water in it.” + +“You do not need to carry it at all,” said Commodus. “If you stand up +and hold the sieve of water as high as your chin, you will 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 confute Brinnaria’s +enemies or even convince the majority of the Pontiffs.” + +“What does it signify?” the Emperor demanded, “whether anybody else is +convinced, if I am satisfied?” + +“Nothing whatever, your Majesty,” said Lutorius, “if you take that view +of the matter.” + +“Perhaps,” Commodus admitted, “there may be something in your +suggestion. Suppose we make the stipulation that she must carry the +sieve of water from the brink of the river to the top of the steps.” + +“The number of steps,” Lutorius reminded him, “varies at different +points along the Marble Quay.” + +“True,” the Emperor admitted. “Let us specify the middle stair, which +has seven steps, if I mistake not. Do you agree to that?” 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 to use.” + +Causidiena spoke up, her all but sightless eyes strained towards 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 us to decide on a +metal sieve. They are always coarse and the apertures between the wires +are comparatively large. It seems to us that no one could carry water in +a copper sieve, not even by a miracle. + +“The meshes of linen sieves are the smallest of any made, but the linen +does not seem to have much sustaining power. We feel that with a linen +sieve not only Brinnaria would be, as Lutorius expressed it, severely +handicapped for water-carrying, but that, as he also said, I fear +irreverently, that Vesta herself would be too much handicapped in +respect to miracle-working.” + +“A mighty sensible remark,” Commodus cut in, “and one with which I +concur. You are more of a sport than I thought you, Lutorius.” + +“Considering only the construction of sieves,” Causidiena continued, +“we were of the opinion that a horsehair sieve would be the fairest. The +hairs are coarser than linen threads and finer than copper wires and the +apertures between are similarly of medium size, as sieves go. + +“Besides, we have ascertained that horse-hair sieves are by far the most +usual kind. We are told that in most sieve-shops in Rome all the linen +sieves and copper sieves sold do not amount to one-third the horsehair +sieves.” + +“That ought to settle that point,” said Commodus. “No one can cavil if +we use the commonest kind of sieve, of medium fineness and of normal +make. + +“As to the question of procuring one we must arrange that Brinnaria may +feel wholly secure that it has not been tampered with by some enemy of +hers, and, on the other hand, that all persons whatever, to whomsoever +hostile or friendly, or wholly indifferent, may be at once and forever +certain that neither Brinnaria nor any partisan of hers has had any +access to it before the test. Have you any suggestions to make?” + +“Yes,” Causidiena replied. “Lutorius and Numisia and I have debated that +point and have come to a conclusion which we think you might approve. +The best sieve-maker in Rome is Caius Truttidius Falcifer, a tenant of +one of our shops on the Holy Street. Not only are his wares reputed the +best-made sieves produced in Rome, but he sells more than anyone else +and carries a larger stock than can be found in the possession of any +other dealer. He is sieve-maker to the Atrium, like his father before +him. His horse-hair sieves are the closest and finest of their kind. We +use them to sift the flour for our ceremonial cakes. I had 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 much like 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 pastry demonstrates the +virtue of the sieve let us consider it proved. I do not see, however, +what the cakes have to do with it. But I am entirely willing to agree +that Brinnaria is to use a horse-hair sieve made by Truttidius. + +“Now, how are we to select the particular sieve so as to convince +all concerned that it is a normal sieve chosen at random and not one +doctored for the occasion?” + +“Our idea,” said Lutorius, “was to arrange that Truttidius be present +with a number of horse-hair sieves, practically with his whole stock of +his best, and that one of those be chosen before the whole College +of Pontiffs, perhaps by your Majesty, perhaps by some one of the +altar-boys, blindfolded, if you like that idea, or in any other manner +which seems good to you.” + +“That,” said the Emperor, “is an excellent suggestion. But would not +there be some difficulty in carrying to the Marble Quay so large a +number of sieves at once, particularly just when it will be crowded with +notables and the neighboring squares and streets choked, even jammed, +with their equipages? We should not want to present a numerous gang of +sieve-carrying slaves. But if more than two sieves are trusted to each +slave, there will be danger of the sieves being damaged in transit. We +might find it difficult to select one sufficiently perfect.” + +“We have thought of that,” said Lutorius, “and have devised a solution +which we think you might accept. I have arranged to have Truttidius +convey some eighty horse-hair sieves to the water-front of the Marble +Quay in a flat-bottomed row-boat, such as are used for bringing +vegetables to the quays of the Forum Olitorium. The oarsmen can keep +the boat nearly stationary off any point of the Quay indicated, and the +selection can be made in sight of the official assemblage of all the +Senators and Pontiffs.” + +“That,” said Commodus, “is an excellent suggestion. Have it carried +out and see to it that only we four know of it and that no one but the +sieve-maker and his assistants have anything to do with conveying +the sieves from his shop to the boat and that only the 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 of men you ask for to escort +the sieve-maker and his convoy. + +“I’ll have the river policed and all possible traffic suspended. Any +craft that are let through the cordons of police-boats will be made to +follow the other side of the river. We’ll have nothing off the Marble +Quay except the boat-load of sieves and the patrol-boats.” He sighed. + +“I believe,” he said, “that that is all except fixing the day and the +hour.” + +“I suggest,” said Lutorius, “the day after to-morrow, the eighteenth +day before the Kalends of September, the twenty-third anniversary of +Brinnaria’s entrance into the order of Vestals, and, I regret to say, +the second anniversary of her night expedition 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 her ordeal at +midday on August fifteenth of the nine hundred and thirty-seventh year +after the founding of Rome, 184 of our era. + +That night Numisia, conferring with Brinnaria, concluded by saying: + +“Truttidius enjoined me to remind you to be very careful not to touch +the web of the sieve with your fingers. Also he says that, if anybody’s +finger touches the web of the sieve as it is being handed to you, you +are to decline to accept it and to demand another.” + +“I understand that already,” said Brinnaria. + +The Marble Quay was that part of the embankment along the left bank of +the Tiber which was used by the Emperors of Rome for embarking on their +state barges and for landing from them whenever they took part in one of +the gorgeous river processions. Also it was used by all members of the +Imperial household for starting on excursions by water or when returning +from them. It was situated below the north corner of the Aventine Hill, +not far from the square end of the Circus Maximus, close to the round +Temple of Hercules and near the meat market. Every trace of it has +long since vanished, its precious marbles having offered most tempting +plunder for builders of every century since the fall of Rome. + +In its glory it was a space about two hundred feet long and nearly a +hundred feet wide, bounded by a gentle hollow curve along the river, and +enclosed on the other three sides by magnificent colonnaded porticoes. + +The shafts of the columns were of black Lucullean marble and fully +forty feet high. Their capitals and bases were of green porphyry, the +entablature they carried of red porphyry and the wall behind them of +yellow Numidian marble. The area was paved with slabs of pinkish and +light greenish marble while the copings of the Quay and the steps +leading down to the water were of coral red marble, a building material +extremely rare and very costly. + +At noon on the fifteenth of August the area, lined all round just before +the colonnade by a double rank of Pretorian guards, gorgeous in their +trappings of red gloss leather, gilded metal and scarlet cloth, was +thronged with Senators, Pontiffs and officials of the Imperial Court, to +the number of nearly a thousand. + +Midway of the crowd, near the head of the middle water-stair, a part of +the pavement, ringed about by the lucky dignitaries in the 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 of craft; 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 habit +dazzlingly fresh, fresh as the white flowers clasped at her bosom by +her big pearl brooch, looked like a care-free young matron who had had +a long night’s sleep and a good breakfast. Commodus, looking her up nd +down, mentally contrasted her easy pose and the rosiness of her smiling +face with the tense statuesqueness and austere, almost grim countenances +of her three colleagues. He noticed that her three-strand pearl necklace +seemed to become her more than theirs became the other three and that +she wore her square, white headdress with an indefinable difference, +that there was a difference in the very hang of her headband and in the +way its tassels lay on her bosom. He noted two unusual adjuncts to her +attire; a long, rough towel through her girdle and 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 left arm, stiffly +straight, hand extended, palm down, until her finger-tips were almost +level with his face and not a foot from it. 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 her finger-tips: + +“Hercules be good to me!” he exclaimed. “Not a tremble, not a waver, not +a quiver. You are mighty cool. You’ve plenty of confidence. 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 you were +Emperor. You are merely a minor Pontiff. Remember that and speak 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 so unfair as to +subject this lady to her test with a sieve brought and offered by her +accuser?” + +Calvaster was dumb. + +“Show me that sieve,” the Emperor commanded. + +Calvaster produced from under his robes a copper-hooped sieve strung +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 the meshes are +three times the size of others. It is very unevenly strung, it bags in +two places.” She held it up to her face a moment. + +“Also,” she concluded, “it has been scrubbed with wood-ashes and +fuller’s-earth. Vesta herself could not carry water in that sieve.” + +“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 an unworthy +Pontiff and a contemptible caitiff. You attempt to entrap me into the +meanest unfairness! You pose as a public-spirited citizen solicitous +about the sanctity of the worship of Vesta and I find you a pettifogging +wretch actuated by spite and malice. You desire not a fair test, but the +ruin of a woman you are low-minded enough to hate. Eugh!” With one of +his excesses of unconventional energy he flung the sieve far out over +the river. It sailed whirling through the air, splashed in the water and +sank out of sight. + +“For the price of one dried bean, I’d order you thrown after it,” said +Commodus to Calvaster. + +He beckoned one of his aides. + +“Signal that boat!” he commanded. + +A broad blunt-ended cargo-boat, rather guided than propelled by its four +heavy oars, came drifting down with the current. Its gunwale was hung +with horsehair sieves. Up from the thwarts stood many poles, each with +cross-pieces, every cross-piece hung with sieves. Its oarsmen edged it +nearer and nearer to the Quay and slowed its motion until it was almost +stationary opposite the stair, 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 second cross-piece +of the fourth pole from the bow. + +Lutorius, at the Emperor’s bidding, called the directions to Truttidius, +who, bowed and bent with age until he looked almost like a clothed ape, +wizened so that his leathery, wrinkled face was like a dried apple, was +standing near the middle of the boat. + +“Go down the steps,” said Commodus to Brinnaria, “and yourself take the +sieve from him.” Brinnaria, on the lower step, reached over the water, +and grasped the rim of the sieve which Truttidius held out to her. She +held it up to the light. Its web was of black and white horse-hair, each +thread alternately of a different color. It was made for bolting the +finest flour and the tiny apertures between the hairs were all of a size +and scarcely broader than the hairs themselves. + +She scrutinized the sieve from several angles and then looked back at +the Emperor. + +“Are you satisfied with that sieve?” he queried. + +“I am satisfied with this sieve,” spoke Brinnaria, loud and clear. + +“I want to see close,” said Commodus, coming down the steps. + +Brinnaria, holding the sieve in both hands, lifted it towards the blue +sky. “O Vesta!” she prayed aloud, “O my dear Goddess, manifest your +divinity, succor your votary! To prove me pleasing and acceptable in +your eyes, grant me the miraculous power to carry up these stairs water +from this river in the sieve which I hold!” She lowered her arms and +holding the sieve in her left hand knelt on one knee on the lowest +step, spread her towel over the other knee and took from her belt the +sacrificial dipper. With that she scooped up half a ladleful of Tiber +water. On the towel spread over her knee she carefully dried the bottom +of the dipper. + +Holding it just outside the rim of the sieve she glanced up at Commodus. + +“Go on,” he said. + +She smiled. + +“If you want to see me fail,” she said, “talk to me. If you want to see +me carry water in this sieve, let me alone.” + +“I’m dumb*,” said he. + + * “Dumb” at this time meant unable to speak. --PG editor + +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 it until it +all but touched the middle of the web. + +She tilted the ladle slowly, slowly she poured its contents over its +lip. + +She lifted it clear: + +On the web of the sieve lay a silver disk, as it were, of water, +round-edged and shining. + +“Hercules be good to me!” cried Commodus. + +“Keep quiet!” she admonished him. “You’ll put me off.” She dipped up a +ladleful of water, flirted half the water out, wiped the bottom of the +ladle on her knee and brought it cautiously over the sieve, cautiously +she lowered it until it nearly touched the shining disk of water, +cautiously she tilted it, cautiously she let its contents flow over its +lip. + +The disk of water spread. She repeated the process. The disk of water +spread. + +Again and again she repeated the process. + +The disk of water became a film hiding nearly all the web of the sieve. + +Commodus noticed that, as she dipped up each ladleful of water, she +watched the dipper out of the corner of her eye, as it were, with a sort +of partial, sidelong glance, but that all the while 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 if clamped in a +vise, Brinnaria spoke: + +“If I take my eyes off the sieve,” she rebuked him, “it will tilt in my +hand and the water will run through. If you make me look 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 water touched 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 the water 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. But now, 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 the water now +in this sieve is as deep as you stipulated?” + +“I,” said Commodus in a loud voice, “as Emperor and as Pontifex Maximus, +here certify before all men that the water now supported by the web of +that sieve is enough to demonstrate the favor of Vesta towards you and +your impeccable integrity.” + +“Back away,” said Brinnaria, “I’m going to stand up.” She thrust the +handle of the ladle through her belt, brushed the towel from her knee +and with her right hand also she grasped the sieve. Holding it now in +both hands, her eyes on it, she very slowly, inch by inch, rose to her +feet. When she was erect, she very slowly drew back her left foot until +her two feet were close together. + +“Back away,” she repeated. “I’m going to turn round.” Slowly she pivoted +on her firm feet until she was standing with her back to the river. + +Commodus at the top of the steps stared down at her. + +“Back away,” she reiterated, “I’m coming up the steps.” Up the steps +she came, very slowly. Planted on her right foot she would almost +imperceptibly raise and advance her left foot. When it was firm on the +step, she would gradually shift her weight to that foot, would very +deliberately straighten up and very carefully draw up her right foot +until both feet were together. So standing she would breathe several +times before she repeated the process. + +When she was standing firm on the top step on the level of the Quay +platform, she raised both hands until the sieve was level with her chin. + +“You have won,” Commodus exclaimed. “You have demonstrated your +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 up within her. +The obsolete hoydenishness inside her exploded. + +“Not water!” she cried, and smashed the sieve over his head. + +The rim on his shoulders, his head protruding from the torn eb, +frayed ends of broken horse-hair sticking up round his neck, the water +trickling down his clothing and dripping from his thin locks, from his +big flaring ears, from the end of his long nose, his face rueful and +stultified, he presented a sufficiently absurd appearance. + +Commodus, like the overgrown boy he was, burst into roars of laughter. +The Pontiffs laughed, the Senators laughed, even Manlia and 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 would think, the +way you behave, that I am the minor Pontiff and you the Emperor. I’ll +teach you!” He turned and beckoned a centurion of 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, the Emperor +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, “and pitch him +into the river.” Over went Calvaster with a mighty splash. + +As all Romans were excellent swimmers he came to the surface almost at +once. A few strokes in front of him was the boat with the sieves. To it +he swam and Truttidius hauled him aboard and located him on a thwart. + +After the general merriment had waned and the laughter had abated +Commodus faced the assemblage and raised his hand. + +Into the ensuing silence he spoke not as a blundering lad nor as a +sportsman, but as a ruler. For the moment, in fact, he looked all the +Emperor. + +“We have all beheld,” he said, “a miracle marvellous and convincing. +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 has shown her. Henceforward let no +man dare to smirch her with any slur or slander.” + + + +CHAPTER XXII - TRIUMPH + + +IN recognition of Brinnaria’s complete and incontrovertible vindication +Commodus decreed an unusually sumptuous state banquet at the Palace, +inviting to it all the most important personages of the capital, +including the more distinguished 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 and Flexinna, +clung to the antique Roman habit of lying down to meals on three +rectangular dining-sofas placed on three sides of a square-topped table, +this arrangement had long been supplanted at Court by a newer invention. +The mere fact that, from of old, it had been looked upon as the worst +sort of bad manners to have more than three diners on a sofa, and as +scarcely less ridiculous to have fewer than three, had made the custom +vexatious in the extreme, as it constrained all entertainers to arrange +for nine guests or eighteen or twenty-seven and ruled out any other more +convenient intermediate numbers. In the progressive circles of society +and at the Palace, the tables were circular, each supported from the +center by one standard with three feet, and each table was clasped, as +it were, by a single ample C-shaped sofa on which any number of guests +from four to twelve could conveniently recline. + +At the Palace banquet in honor of Brinnaria, three tables only were set +on the Imperial dais at the head of the dining hall. On one side of the +Emperor’s table was that where feasted the higher Flamens and Pontiffs, +the sofa of the other was occupied by the young Empress, by the wives of +the higher Flamens, and by the four Vestals present. + +Brinnaria declared that her appetite was as good as on the day when she +had returned home from her exile to Aunt Septima’s villa. + +After two public advertisements of the Emperor’s favor and esteem she +was entirely free from any sort of worry. Her enemies were few, merely +Calvaster and his parasites, and they were thoroughly cowed and curbed +their tongues. Not only no defamation of her but not even an innuendo +gained currency in the gossip of the city during the remainder of her +term of service. + +Quite the other way. Her fame as a Vestal whose prayers were sure to be +heard, at first a source of natural pride and gratification to her, came +to be a burden, even a positive misery. There was an immemorial belief +that if a Vestal could be induced to pray for the recapture of an +escaped slave, such a runaway, if within the boundaries of Rome, would +be overcome by a sort of inward numbness which would make it impossible +for him to cross the city limits, so that the retaking of such fugitives +became easy, as it was only necessary to search the wards for them. +City owners of escaped slaves besieged Brinnaria for years and as it +was reported that her intercessions were invariably effective, her fame +increased and petitions for her assistance pestered her. + +She bore the annoyance resignedly, reflecting that, while she was 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, became totally +blind. Care of her devolved particularly upon Terentia, of whom she was +dotingly fond. + +The routine duties of the maintenance of the sacred fire those two +shared, for Causidiena, even stone blind, never required anyone’s +assistance to tell her the condition of the altar-fire and could care +for it and feed it even alone, judging its needs by the sensations of +her outstretched hands, never burning herself, never letting brands or +ashes fall on the Temple floor. But in all other matters Causidiena and +Terentia were concerned only when their participation was demanded +by canonical regulations, Terentia devoting herself to attendance on +Causidiena, while Causidiena officiated only when the presence of the +Chief Vesta was indispensable. + +For Numisia, Gargilia, Manlia and Brinnaria, their main concern was to +arrange that Causidiena should have as little as possible to do and that +Terentia might devote as much as possible of her time to entertaining +Causidiena. This was not easy to accomplish, for Causidiena’s mind was +perfectly clear, her knowledge of every inch of the Atrium enabled her +to move about it unhesitatingly at all hours of the day and night, her +sense of duty urged her to do all that she had ever done when her sight +was perfect, and, like most blind persons, she resented any reference, +expressed or implied, to her infirmity. Consideration for her called for +almost superhuman tact and dexterity. To the best of their ability +the four strove to shield her without her being able to perceive their +sedulity. To the charm of Terentia’s music she, moreover, yielded +readily. Music, as never before, occupied the leisure of the Atrium. + +During these years Brinnaria was almost entirely happy. Her duties, her +solicitude for Causidiena, her affection for Terentia, her delight in +her own and Terentia’s music filled up most of her time. + +Her horse-breeding continued to interest her, but her interest was +milder and far from absorbing. She kept it up largely because she +regarded her outings as imperatively necessary to maintain her health, +while aimless outings bored her. + +As when younger, she dined out very often and regularly with Vocco and +Flexinna. But since Calvaster’s accusation, she never visited Flexinna +alone, always in company with another Vestal, usually Terentia, so that +her dinners at Flexinna’s became restricted to evenings on which she +and Terentia were both off duty. Terentia, who was passionately fond of +small children, revelled in her visits to Flexinna’s house, where there +were children of all ages in abundance, all ready to make friends, all +diverting, all pleased at being petted, and, as Flexinna said: + +“Not a stutterer among ‘em.” + +From Almo news came frequently through Flexinna. + +His campaign, deliberately prepared and relentlessly carried out, +progressed evenly and without any reverse. + +The nomads nowhere withstood his legions and their attendant cloud of +allied cavalry; one after the other their strongholds were reached and +stormed, methodically and unhurriedly he reduced tribe after tribe to +submission, his prestige growing from season to season and from year to +year. + +When Brinnaria’s term of service was drawing to an end and only about +eleven months of it remained, all Roman society was convulsed by what +was variously referred to as the Calvaster scandal, the great poisoning +trial or the murder of Pulfennia. + +Pulfennia Ulubrana, one of Calvaster’s great-aunts, was a dwarfish +creature, humpbacked and clubfooted. + +She was an only child and her parents, in spite of her deformities, +were devoted to her. They lavished on her everything that fondness could +suggest, and, as they were very wealthy, she not only lived but enjoyed +life in her way and to a very considerable extent. + +To begin with she never had an ill hour or an ache or a pain from her +earliest years. Then, like many cripples, she had great vitality and +a wonderfully alert mind. Amid the small army of maids, governesses, +tutors, pages, litter-bearers, and so on, with which her parents +surrounded her she did not become merely peevish, exacting and +overbearing, as might have been expected. Even the services of her +personal physician, of three expert readers to read aloud to her and of +a half dozen musicians to divert her whenever she pleased, did not spoil +her. She was imperious enough, self-willed and obstinately resolute +to have her own way in all matters, but she had a great deal of +common-sense, realized what was possible and what impossible and was +considerate of her entire retinue, even of such unimportant slave-girls +as her three masseuses. + +She was greedy of all sorts of knowledge and acquired an education +altogether unusual for a Roman woman. + +Withal she was feminine in her tastes, spent much time on embroidery +and was justly proud of her complex and beautiful productions in this +womanly art. She overcame her disabilities to a great extent and, with +no lack of conveyances, became a figure almost as well-known in oman +society as Nemestronia herself. + +As she had an accommodating disposition, an excellent appetite and a +witty tongue, she was a welcome guest at banquets and went about a great +deal. Also she entertained lavishly. + +She survived the pestilence and, like so many of the remnants of the +nobility, found herself solitary and enormously wealthy. + +Her vast estates she managed herself and she knew to a sesterce +the value of every piece of property, the justifiable expenses of +maintaining each, and the income each should yield. Self-indulgent as +she was and moreover an inveterate gambler, she grew richer every year. + +Like all childless Romans of independent means she was the object of +unblushing and overwhelming attentions from countless legacy cadgers. +She enjoyed the game, accepted everything offered in the way of gifts, +services or invitations, and, moreover, played up to it, for she was +forever destroying her last will and making a new one. Each was read +aloud to a concourse of expectant and envious legatees. Each specified +scores of legacies of no despicable amount, and yet more numerous sops +to numerous acquaintances. In every will Calvaster, her nearest relative +and favorite grandnephew, was named as chief legatee. + +She kept on making wills, and, what was more, she kept on living. +Naturally her wealth, her eccentricities, her amazing healthiness +and her obstinate vitality were subjects of general remark by all the +gossips of the capital. + +One night, an hour or two after midnight, she was seized with violent +internal pains, and, in spite of the ministrations of her private +physician, died before dawn. + +In Rome any sudden death was likely to be attributed to poison. In her +case the indications, from the Roman point of view, all converged on the +inference that she had been poisoned. No-one questioned the conclusion. + +Calvaster was immediately suspected. The evidence against him would not +suffice to put in jeopardy any one in our days. To the Romans it seemed +sufficient to justify his incarceration and trial. He had more to gain +by the old lady’s death than anybody else. He had been chronically in +need of money and there had been much friction between him and Pulfennia +on this point. She had always provided for his necessities, but had +always insisted on scrutinizing every item in his accounts, and on being +convinced of his need for every sesterce she gave him. She had supported +him, but by an irritating dole of small sums. He had joked with his +cronies about her hold on life. He had been heard to say that he would +be glad when she was gone. He had bought various drugs from various +apothecaries, though none within a year of her death and none used +merely as a poison. Under torture some of her slaves and some of his +slaves told of his having tried to induce them to put poison in her +food. + +Roman society promptly divided into two camps on the question of his +guilt or innocence. The subject was debated with vehemence, even with +acrimony. He had been a disagreeable creature from childhood and had +made many enemies. On the other hand, great numbers of fair-minded +people asserted that no man, however distasteful to themselves, should +be convicted on such flimsy evidence. + +His trial was watched with great interest, and when he was convicted and +an appeal was successful and a retrial ordered, upper class Rome seethed +with altercations. The case, by common consent, was tabooed as a subject +of conversation at all social gatherings; feeling ran so high that it +was possible to mention the matter only between intimate friends. + +Naturally Flexinna and Brinnaria, Terentia and Vocco discussed the case +frequently. To her friends’ amazement Brinnaria maintained that she did +not feel convinced of Calvaster’s guilt. + +“I always despised him and hated him,” she said, “and I despise and hate +him as much as ever, if not more. He certainly has been my worst enemy +and he came very near to ruining me. But I see no reason why hate should +blind me in judging his case. I should be glad to have him plainly +convicted and put to death. It would please me. But I am not pleased at +his present plight. I am not convinced of his guilt. I don’t believe any +slave evidence given under torture. A tortured slave will say anything +he thinks likely to relax his sufferings or please his questioners. And +I see no proof of Calvaster’s guilt in the other evidence. Everybody +buys such drugs as he bought. And suppose he did joke about Pulfennia’s +tenacity to life, who wouldn’t? I don’t believe it is proved that she +died of poison anyway. People who have never been ill are reckless +eaters. Look at me, I am. She may have died of indigestion or +stomach-ache or what not. I’d do anything I could to save him, now.” + +“D-D-Do you mean to say,” spoke Flexinna, “that if you encountered him +being led out to execution, you’d reprieve him?” + +“A Vestal can’t use her prerogative of reprieving criminals,” said +Brinnaria, “unless she encounters by accident a criminal being led to +execution. She can’t lay in wait for one. Any suspicion of collusion +vitiates her privilege. The encounter must be unforeseen.” + +“Suppose,” said Flexinna, “you did meet C-C-Calvaster on his way to +execution, wouldn’t you g-g-gloat over him and watch him on his way and +not interfere?” + +“No, I should not, I should interfere,” said Brinnaria, “and anyhow, +what is the use of supposing? Suppose the moon fell on your front teeth, +would you stop stuttering?” + +In June of 191 Almo returned from Syria, completely victorious and much +acclaimed. He brought with him his veteran legions and was received with +every mark of the Emperor’s favor. After his official reception he at +once left Rome for Falerii, where he was to remain until the last day of +Brinnaria’s service. + +Meanwhile his house on the Carinae was opened and put in order under +Flexinna’s supervision. + +On August 14th, Lutorius, Causidiena, Numisia and Brinnaria had a long +conference as to the details of her wedding, which was to take place on +August 16th. + +The subject needed not a little discussion, as the circumstances were +unusual. Having no parents, nor indeed any near connections, it was +inevitable that the wedding should vary a great deal from what was +customary. + +It was decided that on leaving the Atrium after her exauguration, she +should spend one night as the guest of Nemestronia; that on the next day +she should go to Vocco’s house and be married from there; but that in +the ceremonies, Lutorius, who had been her spiritual father for many +years, should take the part which her own father would have taken had +he been alive. It was also decided that the wedding feast should be +at Almo’s house, after the wedding-procession, instead of at Vocco’s +before, as it would have been if she had living parents and was being +married from her home. + +Lutorius, who had a warm personal affection for Brinnaria, had been +hovering about her, as it were, for some days, and on this last full +day of her service he kept, so to speak, fluttering in and out of the +Atrium, repeatedly returning to confer about some trifle or other which +he had forgotten. + +So it happened that he was approaching the portal as she came out 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 out towards him +as he stood beside the vehicle, holding on to the tires, his arms stiff, +a hand on each wheel. + +“This,” she said, “is merely a constitutional. Yesterday I took 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 my office.” + +“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 leave the order. +When I realize that, after to-day, I shall have no lictor to clear +the streets for me, that I may go out in my litter daily, but even so +without a runner ahead, that I may never again drive through Rome, that +I have been driven up to the Capitol for the last time and may go there +hereafter only afoot or in my litter, I am almost ready to change my +mind, give up freedom and matrimony and Almo and all and cling to my +privileges. When it comes over me that, as I go out to-day, the lictors +of any magistrate will salute me, even the lictors of the Emperor, +whereas after to-morrow noon there will be no salutes for me, I +understand why most Vestals live out their lives in the order.” + +“There is time still to change your mind and stay with us,” he said, +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 a round-about drive +for me. I’m in the humor to have nothing on my mind.” + +Lutorius, with a comprehending smile, whispered to the coachman, who +mounted his tiny seat. + +Almost at once Brinnaria was lost in thought and jolted through the +streets oblivious to her surroundings, not even seeing what was before +her eyes. + +From her muse she was roused by the halting of the carriage. + +Amazed, she looked up. + +Still more amazed, she recognized, standing near the head of the +off-horse, the state-executioner. + +This repulsive public character, tolerated but despised and loathed, was +the last living creature in or about Rome who would dare 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 carriage had stopped and +rebuke him for being so negligent as to allow so unsavory a being to +come so near her. + +Then she saw between her and the executioner, just in front of that +official, a kneeling figure. + +She recognized Calvaster. + +Also she saw the guards and executioner’s assistants grouped about the +two. + +It came over her that she had encountered, wholly by accident, this +gloomy convoy, and that before her, beseeching her for a reprieve, +begging for a mere day and night more of life, knelt her inveterate, +furtive enemy. + +She raised her hand and looked the executioner full in the eyes. + +“Send him back,” she commanded. “He is reprieved until this hour +to-morrow.” The guards dragged off Calvaster, babbling his pitiful +gratitude. + +“Drive home,” said Brinnaria to her coachman. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII - SALVAGE + + +THE exauguration of a Vestal, by which canonical ritual she was formally +released from her obligations of chastity and service and became free to +go where she liked and to marry or to remain unmarried as she preferred, +was a brief and simple ceremony. But it required the presence of all the +Vestals, of the major Flamens, of many Pontiffs, of the entire College +of Augurs and of the Emperor himself as Pontifex Maximus. Commodus, who +was impatient of anything which curtailed the time he might lavish on +athletic amusements, arrived precisely at noon, at the very last minute. +The moment he had entered the Atrium he hurried the ceremony. It was +soon over and Brinnaria no longer a Vestal, but a free woman. + +It had been arranged that immediately after her exauguration her +successor should be taken as a Vestal there in the Atrium by Commodus +himself as Chief Pontiff. Little difficulty had been encountered as to +selecting a candidate, since a most suitable child had been offered by +her parents, people of xcellent family and of unblemished reputation. +Her name was Campia Severina, and she was a small girl, just seven years +old, plump, with a round full-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 required questions +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; complimented Terentia on her music and +spoke of the Empress’s admiration of her organ-playing, had a brief but +kindly commendation for Manlia and Gargilia; praised Numisia highly for +her efficient discharge of the duties devolving on her, and condoled +with Causidiena on her blindness and feebleness, wording what he said so +dexterously that she could not but feel cheered and comforted. + +Then, aside from the assemblage of Pontiffs, Augurs, Flamens and the +rest, he spoke privately with Brinnaria: + +“I’m sorry to lose you,” he said; “I felt comfortable about the +Palladium as long as you were a Vestal. Numisia is a woman to be relied +on too, and Gargilia and Manlia are capable creatures, but not one +of the three is your equal in any respect and they are but three; the +others are a corpse, a doll and an infant. + +“Understand I’m not growling at your departure, I am trying to convey +to you how highly I esteem you. I’ll advertise it to all the world by +having you and your husband, the moment you are married, put on the +official roster of my personal friends who have the right of access to +me at all times and can go in and out of the Palace at their pleasure. + +“As to your wedding, I’m sorry I gave you my promise to stay away from +it. I think that this recent notion of yours that the marriage of an +ex-Vestal is an ill-omened occasion, like a funeral, is morbid and +baseless. Every Vestal has a right to leave the order at the end of her +term of service and to marry if she pleases. The right is indubitable. +Nothing that is right is ill-omened. I think that an ex-Vestal’s wedding +ought to be regarded precisely as the wedding of anybody else. The most +I’ll concede is, that it might be likened to the wedding of a widow, +considering her service as a sort of first marriage. That is my +judgment, not merely as a man but as Chief Pontiff. + +“My impulse is to revoke my pledge and to do all I can to make your +wedding a grand affair. But I’m too good a betting man to break a +promise. Besides, though I impugn your arguments as an ex-Vestal, I +respect your personal preference for a quiet wedding. I’ll not insist +on being invited to the banquet, and, so far from taking part in the +procession, I’ll not even peep at it down a side street. I’ll keep +inside the Palace. + +“But I want you to release me from my promise in one small detail. +I want to be present at Vocco’s to see you two break and eat the +old-fashioned cake, and I want to be first to sign your marriage +register. I promise to leave as soon as I have signed the register.” + +Brinnaria, of course, could not but acquiesce. + +“Good for you!” said the Emperor, “and thank you too. I’ll keep away +from the procession, but that won’t make any difference in the throngs +you’ll find along your route. They’ll jam the streets and you’ll have to +plough your way through. No Emperor could ever call out more sight-seers +than will the wedding of Brinnaria the water-carrier.” He then went out +into the street which his escort blocked, and departed, accompanied +by his coterie 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 farewells and set out +for Nemestronia’s. + +Next morning, as she descended from her litter at Vocco’s door, a +Vestal’s carriage drove up and Gargilia got out. + +“You’re surprised to see me at this hour,” she said, “and I don’t +wonder.” When they were indoors and seated with Flexinna she explained: + +“We have been having a terrible night at the Atrium and the worst sort +of luck this morning. That little fool of a Campia is the most complete +cry-baby and the most homesick little wretch I ever saw or heard of. +She has sobbed herself ill and screamed us all out of a night’s sleep. +Terentia and Manlia were up half the night 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 Manlia has one of +her splitting headaches and Terentia is almost as bad. I never saw the +Atrium in such a state. Campia goes to sleep off and on from exhaustion, +but she wakes up howling and keeps blubbering and whining and sniveling. +I left both Terentia and Manlia in tears. They are so vexed to think +that to-morrow they will be entirely well, but for to-day there is +absolutely nothing for 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 that I must be on duty +in the Temple. So we’ll just have to have our chat now and when I leave +we shall not see each other again for the 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 of rainless +cloud which hid the sky; “any day is a good day to be married on, but I +hoped for sunshine.” + +Commodus, faithful to the spirit of his promise, came to Vocco’s house +with the smallest possible official retinue. He was in the best humor, +affable and genial, and cast no chill of formality over the ceremony. He +was the first to set his signature to the marriage register, signing in +his sprawling school-boy hand. Then he stood aside and looked on while +Flexinna, as matron of honor, led Brinnaria to Almo and joined +their right hands, while they seated themselves side by side on the +traditional cushioned stools, while the Flamen of Jupiter offered on the +house-altar the old-fashioned contract-cake, and said 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 piece and ate it, she uttering the old-time formula: + +“Where you are Caius I am Caia.” + +Above the voices of the guests Commodus’ could be distinguished 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 this wedding, 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 procession began, the +slaves lit their torches and grouped themselves outside the house-door, +the flute players struck up a tune, Flexinna’s thirteen-year-old boy +lit his white-thorn torch at the altar-fire, her eleven-year-old and +nine-year-old, as pages of honor, caught Brinnaria by the hands and led +her out at the door. So led by the two little boys, their brother with +the white-thorn torch walking before her, she passed through the streets +to Almo’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 with crowds eager +to see her pass and loud to acclaim her. Through cheers, good wishes, +loud jokes, merry longs and cries of “Talassio! Talassio!” she passed +along the upper part of the Fagutal, and past the flank of the Baths of +Titus to the Carinae. + +Her bridal dress of pearl-gray, with the flame-colored bridal veil, +reminded her more than a little of that costume of Flexinna’s which +she had worn to Aricia and back, only that was mostly pink, this mostly +gray. + +She looked well in it and wore the six braids and the headband more +naturally than most brides, having been habituated to them for thirty +years, since all Vestals always wore the bridal coiffure. + +At the doorway of Almo’s house, the bearer of the white-thorn torch +halted and faced about inside the door, his two little brothers let go +her hands, Almo himself caught her up clear of the pavement and swung +her clear of the door-sill. As he held her in 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 a married woman. + +She turned and watched the scramble for the white-thorn torch which its +bearer first put out and then threw among the crowd after the slaves had +also put out their torches. + +So watching, Almo’s arm about her, she became aware of a strange +something in the look of the crowd and of the street. + +“What makes it so light?” she asked Almo. “Why are the tops of their +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 out black, 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 where the fire +is, and let us lie down to dinner. I’m as hungry as a wolf.” And like a +true Roman she began with a trifle of three hard-boiled eggs, merely to +take the edge off her appetite. + +There were six tables set in Almo’s dining-room and an ample +crescent-shaped sofa to each. The sixty guests made the big room buzz +with talk and echo with laughter. + +Nemestronia called across to Brinnaria: + +“Now you have what you’ve always wanted. You’re a married woman 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 while I was a +Vestal. One was the longing for a horseback ride. I used to revel in +galloping bareback. I haven’t been astraddle of a horse for thirty +years. It won’t be many days now before I shall enjoy a good canter on a +good horse. + +“Then, by to-morrow night, I trust, I shall have had a fine long swim +with my husband and six hundred other couples in the big basin of one of +the City Baths. + +“Words could not tell you how I have longed to go swimming in the public +baths with the rest of my kind, as a lady should.” + +The messengers returned with the news that the fire had started near +the round end of the Flaminian Circus, close to the Temple of Bellona. +Before a strong wind it had spread both ways, had caught everything +in the north slope of the Capitol between it and Trajan’s Forum: the +silver-smiths’ shops were all ablaze; to the south it had crept between +the slope of the Capitol and the theatre of Marcellus and was sweeping +over the booths of the Vegetable 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 messengers from the +Atrium. The conflagration was roaring up the Vicus Jugarius and Gargilia +was alarmed. + +Lutorius and Numisia hastily excused themselves, called for their shoes +and went off; he in his litter and she in her carriage. + +As Brinnaria was about to cut the wedding cake her former lictor, Barbo, +thrust himself into the dining-hall, frantic with concern, and narrated +how the fire was beyond any hope of control and was already devouring +the Basilica Argentaria and Basilica Julia. + +“Lutorius has had the sacred fire carried out of the Temple in a copper +pan by Gargilia and Manlia,” he said, “and Terentia and Numisia, with +little Campia, were helping Causidiena along the Holy Street. Causidiena +had an earthenware casket in her arms. I saw 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 the Temple and +the Atrium must burn, nothing can save them.” + +“The Temple!” cried Brinnana. “Fire! And everybody ill except Gargilia +and Numisia! And all they could think of would be saving that dear old +blind saint and that contemptible cry-baby. Ten to one they have missed +the Palladium and taken one of the dummies by mistake! + +“O, Almo, I must go save the Palladium!” + +Of course Almo protested. + +“Don’t hinder me,” she begged. “Go I must, whether you object or not. +We’d never forgive ourselves if to-morrow we learned too late that the +Vestals missed the true Palladium in the confusion, whereas I might have +saved it if I had tried. They may have taken the real Palladium; I may +be too late now to save it if they made a 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, self last. + +“Barbo,” she called, “run before me and clear the way as if I were 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 of the +slaves each fill a bucket and keep close behind us.” + +Amid the prayers and blessings of the wedding-guests, they went out hand +in hand, the two slaves with leather water-buckets behind them, Barbo +ahead, bellowing: + +“Room for Brinnaria Epulonia! Room for Brinnaria Epulonia!” At the +street corner, before they started down the slope of the Carinae, they +had before them a wide view over the city directly towards the Capitol. +Between them and the Capitol Hill they could see the buildings about the +Great Forum all one sea of flames. + +“The Basilica AEmilia is on fire,” said Brinnaria, “and the Temple of +Augustus is just catching. We shall be in time; our Temple won’t catch +before we get there. + +“Run, let’s run.” + +Run they did, the crowds making way at Barbo’s loud adjurations. In +their wedding finery, she with her veil wrapped round her head like a +market-woman’s shawl, they ran, hand in hand between the great Temple of +Venus and Rome, black on their right hand against the reddened clouds, +and the vast Colosseum on their left, all orange in the glare, the +gilding on its awning poles 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 were running, +panting and gasping, through a hail of warm ashes, hot cinders, glowing +embers, blazing bits of wood, flaming brands. + +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 the portal +of the Atrium alive, but you’d never get back alive. And I doubt if you +could reach the portal through this heat. You’d scorch to death.” + +“I shall reach the portal,” Brinnaria declared, firmly. “But I’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, our Temple has not caught yet, +the bronze-tile roof will hold the fire off the beams some time. This +end of the Temple of Augustus has 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’ll run upstairs to +the south-east corner. Those rooms are on a level with the pavement of +the New Street.” + +“But,” Almo interrupted, “there isn’t an opening towards the New Street. +The outer wall of the Atrium towards the Palace is all blank wall to the +cornice, not even a ventilation hole anywhere.” + +“I know,” she rebuked him; “keep still and listen. I’ll run into the +third room from the corner. All that end of the Atrium is of brick and +cement, not a beam anywhere and the ceilings are vaulted; the fire will +be a long time reaching me there. You go up Pearl Dealers’ Lane to the +corner of the New Street. From the corner measure thirty-eight feet +along the New Street. At that point have a hole smashed through the +wall. There are hordes of firemen about with their axes, sledge-hammers +and pick-axes. They’ll hack a hole through for you in no time. The wall +is thin there; we had a temporary door made there three years ago for +the plumbers when they were putting in the new bath-rooms. + +“Now, every moment is precious. Hold my hand and help me to make my dash +for the portal, but drop my hand and turn back at the portal; no man +may enter the Atrium, except a Pontiff or a workman. When I squeeze your +fingers, drop my hand and make your dash back. + +“Don’t try to check me, husband; self last and patriotism first, for +every Roman of us all. We have waited thirty years for each other and +we’ve hardly had time for three kisses yet. But if we must lose each +other to save Rome, then we must. + +“If I fail, good-bye!” Then she turned and called the trembling slaves +to come nearer. + +She ordered: + +“Dash that water over us, one over him, one over me. Don’t waste any, +pour it on our heads. Now go where you please!” + +Dripping, hand in hand, they ran over the cinder-strewn pavement, +under the rain of blazing fragments, up the Sacred Street, 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 yards through the +blazing brands, the very air seeming on fire. + +“I’m afraid!” she cried. “Be brave, Almo, and give me courage!” 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, passed through 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 tips of her +finger-ends along the carved folds of the gown, over the helmet, over +the fingers clasping the spear. + +With the statuette in her hands she stood up. Tearing off her veil 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 of brands, but even +in there the heat was appalling. She felt as if the very marble columns +must crumble beside her as she ran. + +At the far corner of the courtyard she dashed through a door and 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. At the top of the +stairs she passed through four rooms. In the fifth, lighted from +behind her through a door by an orange glow from the glare of the +conflagration, she sank down on the floor against 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 and spattered 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 not hot in here +yet.” The excited blows thudded on the wall. The sledges broke a hole as +big as her head, four times as big as her head. + +“Take your time!” she repeated. “There is no hurry now.” Soon she could +see the torches outside, the faces of the firemen, Almo’s face. + +“No!” she said, “I won’t be dragged through a crevice. There is plenty +of time. Dig that hole bigger!” When it was large enough 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 winding alleys, up +narrow stone stairways, to the Palace. + +At the end of a deep, dark passageway between high walls Lutorius, with +some of the Emperor’s aides, was waiting for them at a small door. He +guided them to where they were eagerly expected. As they threaded the +corridors, they heard, at first far off, then closer and closer, the +sound of a child wailing, bawling, blubbering. Even in the Palace, +Campia was an irrepressible 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 drowned pup, +scorched all over, all my hair burnt off; I must look a guy.” + +“Never mind that,” said Commodus; “you can’t get home to-night, the +conflagration is still spreading. I doubt if the firemen can save the +Colosseum. It would take you till daylight to work your way round the +districts which are in confusion. You’ll sleep here. I’ve had Trajan’s +own private suite made ready for you two, as soon as the first messenger +told me of your gallantry. 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 good for you. +Nothing is too good for you, Brinnaria. + +“You’ve saved the Palladium, and me, and the Empire and the Republic and +Rome.” + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s The Unwilling Vestal, by Edward Lucas White + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE UNWILLING VESTAL *** + +***** This file should be named 6070-0.txt or 6070-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/7/6070/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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