Calvaster kept his lips pressed tight together. “March him downstairs, Guntello,” Brinnaria commanded. Calvaster winced and made as if to dodge. Big as he was Guntello was wonderfully quick. In a flash he had the intruder by the neck. Utterly helpless Calvaster was marched down the stairs. In the courtyard Brinnaria had brought before her the half dozen slaves who had charge of the empty house. They stood in a row fidgeting and glancing at each other. “Now,” she demanded of Calvaster, “point out which one you bribed.” Calvaster remained motionless and mute. “Hurt him, Guntello,” said Brinnaria. Guntello applied a few simple twists and squeezes, such as schoolboys of all climes employ on their victims. Calvaster yielded at once and indicated one of the suspects. “Throw him out, Guntello,” said Brinnaria. When Guntello returned he cheerfully inquired, with the easy assurance of an indulged favorite. “Shall I kill Tranio, Mistress?” “No!” said Brinnaria viciously. “I wouldn’t have a toad killed on the word of that contemptible scoundrel. Give Tranio a moderate beating and hand him over to Olynthides to be sold at auction without a character.” Her survey of her former home and her selection of the ornaments, pictures, statues, articles of furniture and other objects which she desired reserved for herself she completed with an air less of melancholy than of puzzled thought. She was off duty for all of that day and night and was to dine with Flexinna and Vocco. In the course of the pestilence they had inherited a magnificent abode on the Esquiline. In particular it had a private bath with a large swimming-pool. The Vestals were the only ladies in Rome who might not enjoy the magnificent public baths, to which all Roman society flocked every afternoon, somewhat as we moderns throng a beach at a fashionable seaside resort. Brinnaria, who loved swimming, felt the deprivation keenly. The Atrium had luxurious baths, but no swimming-pool. Whenever Brinnaria dined with Flexinna she particularly enjoyed the swim the two always took together before dinner. On that afternoon, while they were revelling in the water, Brinnaria told Flexinna of her adventure. “I can’t conjecture,” she said, “what motive brought him there. I have been racking my brains about it ever since it happened and it is an enigma to me.” “No riddle to me,” Flexinna declared. “It’s as c-c-clear as d-d-daylight.” “If you are so sure,” said Brinnaria, “explain. I have no guess even.” “Why,” expounded Flexinna, “he was there to c-c-collect evidence against you. He hates you because you wouldn’t marry him and he is t-t-tenaciously resolved to be revenged. He is on the lookout for anything that might d-d-discredit you. He hoped to spy on an interview b-b-between you and Almo, for he surmised that you would arrange to have Almo meet you in the empty house!” “The nasty beast!” cried Brinnaria, shocked. “How dare he?”