Then Petronius turned to the pontiff and said: “Now, my Smerius, what say you to this? Will not this content you and all the noisy rag‐tag at your back?” Next he commanded the rest of the prisoners to be brought forward together. This was a mixed number of poor persons, some women, some old men, boys, slaves and freedmen; none belonged to the upper class or even to that of the manufacturers and tradesmen. “You are all dismissed,” said the magistrate. “The imprisonment you have undergone will serve as a warning to you not to associate with image‐ breakers, not to enter into sodalities which have not received the sanction of Cæsar, and which are not compatible with the well‐being and quiet of the city and are an element of disturbance in the empire. Let us hear no more of this pestilent nonsense. Go—worship what god ye will—only not Christos.” Then the lictors gathered around the Quatuorvir and the pontiff, who also rose, and extended his hand to assist the magistrate, who made wry faces as rheumatic twinges nipped his back. “Come with me, Smerius,” said the Quatuorvir, “I have done the best for you that lay in my power. I hate unnecessary harshness. But this fellow, Falerius Marcianus, has deserved the worst. If the old woman be put on the rack and squeak out, and Marcianus be devoured by beasts, the people will have their amusement, and none can say that I have acted with excessive rigor—and, my dear man—not a word has been said about Christianity. The cases have been tried on other counts, do you see?” he winked. “Will you breakfast with me? There are mullets from the Satera, stewed in white wine—confound those octopi!—I feel them still.” CHAPTER XXI A MANUMISSION “Blanda, what shall I do?” Æmilius had withdrawn immediately after the interview in the citron‐house, and Perpetua was left a prey to even greater distress of mind than before. Accustomed to lean on her mother, she was now without support. She drew towards the female slave, who had a patient, gentle face, marked with suffering. “Blanda, what shall I do?” “Mistress, how can I advise? If you had been graciously pleased to take counsel of my master, he would have instructed you.” “Alack! what I desire is to find my mother. If, as I suppose, she is in concealment in Nemausus, he will be unable to discover her. No clue will be put into his hand. He will be regarded with suspicion. He will search; I do not doubt his good will, but he will not find. Those who know where my mother is will look on him with suspicion. O Blanda, is there none in this house who believes, whom I could send to some of the Church?”