d the mansion, Carrio passed into the
chamber where the senator awaited him.

On two couches, separated by a small table, reclined the lord of the
palace and his pupil and companion at Ravenna, the once sprightly
Camilla. Vetranio's open brow had contracted a clouded and severe
expression, and he neither regarded nor addressed his visitor, who, on
her part, remained as silent and as melancholy as himself. Every trace
of the former characteristics of the gay, elegant voluptuary and the
lively, prattling girl seemed to have completely vanished. On the table
between them stood a large bottle containing Falernian wine, and a vase
filled with a little watery soup, in the middle of which floated a
small dough cake, sparingly sprinkled with common herbs. As for the
usual accompaniments of Vetranio's luxurious privacy, they were nowhere
to be seen. Poems, pictures, trinkets, lutes, all were absent. Even
the 'inestimable kitten of the breed most worshipped by the ancient
Egyptians' appeared no more. It had been stolen, cooked, and eaten by
a runaway slave, who had already bartered its ruby collar for a lean
parrot and the unroasted half of the carcase of a dog.

'I lament to confess it, O estimable patron, but my mission has
failed,' observed Carrio, producing from his cloak several bags of
money and boxes of jewels, which he carefully deposited on the table.
'The Prefect has himself assisted in searching the public and private
granaries, and has arrived at the conclusion that not a handful of corn
is left in the city. I offered publicly in the market-place five
thousand sestertii for a living cock and hen, but was told that the
race had long since been exterminated, and that, as money would no
longer buy food, money was no longer desired by the poorest beggar in
Rome. There is no more even of the hay I yesterday purchased to be
obtained for the most extravagant bribes. Those still possessing the
smallest supplies of provision guard and hide them with the most
jealous care. I have done nothing but obtain for the consumption of
the few slaves who yet remain faithful in the house this small store of
dogs' hides, reserved from the public distribution of some days since
in the square of the Basilica of St. John.'

And the freedman, with an air of mingled triumph and disgust, produced
as he spoke his provision of dirty skins.

'What supplies have we still left in our possession?' demanded
Vetranio, after drinking a de