“This,” she said, “is merely a constitutional. Yesterday I took my last outing with all my special privileges as a Vestal, drove all over Rome in my state coach, drove up to the Capitol, and, in a fashion, said farewell to the advantages of my office.” “How do you feel about it all?” he asked. Brinnaria pulled a wry face and laughed a forced laugh. “I am finding out,” she said, “why so few Vestals ever leave the order. When I realize that, after to-day, I shall have no lictor to clear the streets for me, that I may go out in my litter daily, but even so without a runner ahead, that I may never again drive through Rome, that I have been driven up to the Capitol for the last time and may go there hereafter only afoot or in my litter, I am almost ready to change my mind, give up freedom and matrimony and Almo and all and cling to my privileges. When it comes over me that, as I go out to-day, the lictors of any magistrate will salute me, even the lictors of the Emperor, whereas after to-morrow noon there will be no salutes for me, I understand why most Vestals live out their lives in the order.” “There is time still to change your mind and stay with us,” he said, smiling. Brinnaria laughed a perfectly natural laugh. “No danger,” she said; “my heart is Almo’s as always.” “And now, if you have nothing urgent to discuss, I’m off!” “Where to?” asked Lutorius. “I don’t care,” said Brinnaria, “I don’t even want to know. Give the coachman any orders that come into your head, sketch a round-about drive for me. I’m in the humor to have nothing on my mind.” Lutorius, with a comprehending smile, whispered to the coachman, who mounted his tiny seat. Almost at once Brinnaria was lost in thought and jolted through the streets oblivious to her surroundings, not even seeing what was before her eyes. From her muse she was roused by the halting of the carriage. Amazed, she looked up. Still more amazed, she recognized, standing near the head of the off-horse, the state-executioner. This repulsive public character, tolerated but despised and loathed, was the last living creature in or about Rome who would dare to approach a Vestal. At sight of him she was inundated with a hot flood of wrath. She was about to call to her lictor, to demand why the carriage had stopped and rebuke him for being so negligent as to allow so unsavory a being to come so near her. Then she saw between her and the executioner, just in front of that official, a kneeling figure. She recognized Calvaster. Also she saw the guards and executioner’s assistants grouped about the two. It came over her that she had encountered, wholly by accident, this gloomy convoy, and that before her, beseeching her for a reprieve, begging for a mere day and night more of life, knelt her inveterate, furtive enemy. She raised her hand and looked the executioner full in the eyes.