r skill, health or condition,"
rejoined the praefect quietly, and his rough voice, scarcely raised
above its ordinary pitch, seemed to ring a death-knell in poor
Menecreta's heart.

"Nola, the daughter of Menecreta," he continued, once more referring to
the parchment in his hand, "is here described as sixteen years of age,
of sound health and robust constitution, despite the spareness of her
body. The censor who compiled this list states that she has a fair
knowledge of the use of unguents and of herbs, that she can use a needle
and plait a lady's hair. Thou didst know all this, Hun Rhavas, for the
duplicate list is before thee even now."

"My lord's grace," murmured Hun Rhavas, his voice quivering now, his
limbs shaking with the fear in him, "I did not know--I----"

"Thou didst endeavour to defraud the State for purposes of thine own,"
interposed the praefect calmly. "Here! thou!" he added, beckoning to one
of his lictors, "take this man to the Regia and hand him over to the
chief warder."

"My lord's grace----" cried Hun Rhavas.

"Silence! To-morrow thou'lt appear before me in the basilica. Bring thy
witnesses then if thou hast any to speak in thy defence. To-morrow thou
canst plead before me any circumstance which might mitigate thy fault
and stay my lips from condemning thee to that severe chastisement which
crimes against the State deserve. In the meanwhile hold thy peace. I'll
not hear another word."

But it was not in the negro's blood to submit to immediate punishment
now and certain chastisement in the future without vigorous
protestations and the generous use of his powerful lungs. The praefect's
sentences in the tribunal where he administered justice were not
characterised by leniency; the galleys, the stone-quarries, aye! even
the cross were all within the bounds of possibility, whilst the scourge
was an absolute certainty.

Hun Rhavas set up a succession of howls which echoed from temple to
temple, from one end of the Forum to the other.

The frown on the praefect's forehead became even more marked than
before. He had seen the young idlers--who, but a moment ago, were
fawning round Dea Flavia's litter--turning eagerly back towards the
rostrum, where Hun Rhavas' cries and moans had suggested the likelihood
of one of those spectacles of wanton and purposeless cruelty in which
their perverted senses found such constant delight.

But this spectacle Taurus Antinor was not like to give them. All he
wa