“No,” shouted Saturius. “You are being fooled, she has not got the money.” “If he does not advance and no other worthy gentleman wishes to bid, then will you knock the lot down?” said the old woman. “Pardon me if I press you, noble seller of slaves, but I must ride far from Rome to-night, to Centum Cellæ, indeed, where my ship waits; therefore, I have no time to lose.” Now the auctioneer saw that there was no choice, since under the rules of the public mart he must accept the offer of the highest bidder. “Two thousand sestertia are bid for this lot No. 7, the Jewish captive known as Pearl-Maiden, sold by order of Titus Imperator, together with her collar of pearls and the property to which, as a free woman, she would have been entitled. Any advance on two thousand sestertia?” and he looked at Saturius, who shook his head. “No? Then—going—going—gone! I declare the lot sold, to be delivered on payment of the cash to the person named—by the way, madam, what is your name?” “Mulier.” At this the company burst into a loud laugh. “Mulier?” repeated the auctioneer, “M u l i e r—Woman?” “Yes, am I not a woman, and what better name can I have than is given to all my sex?” “In truth, you are so wrapped up that I must take your word for it,” replied the auctioneer. “But come, let us put an end to this farce. If you have the money, follow me into the receiving house—for I must see to the matter myself—and pay it down.” “With pleasure, sir, but be so good as to bring my property with you. She is too valuable to be left here unprotected amongst these distinguished but disappointed gentlemen.” Accordingly Miriam was led from the marble stand into an office annexed to the receiving-house, whither she was followed by the auctioneer and by Nehushta and her servant, whose backs, it was now observed, bent beneath the weight of the baskets that were strapped upon them. Here the door was locked, and with the help of her attendant Nehushta loosened her basket, letting it fall upon the table with a sigh of relief. “Take it and count,” he said to the auctioneer, untying the lid. He lifted it and there met his eye a layer of lettuces neatly packed. “By Venus!” he began in a fury. “Softly, friend, softly,” said Nehushta, “these lettuces are of a kind which only grow in yellow soil. Look,” and lifting the vegetables she revealed beneath row upon row of gold coin. “Examine it before you count,” she said. He did so by biting pieces at hazard with his teeth and causing them to ring upon the marble table. “It is good,” he said. “Quite so. Then count.” So he and the clerk counted, even to the bottom of the basket, which was found to contain gold to the value of over eleven hundred sestertia. “So far well,” he said, “but that is not enough.”