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.

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.”