She plunged into the pool and swam like a mermaid, her companions following, climbed out at the farther end, where the diving-boards projected in tiers, one above the other, and passed through a bronze door into the first of the sweating rooms, evidently conscious of the murmur of comment that followed her, but taking no overt notice of it.

“Who is to be the next to try to reason with her—­you?” asked Boltius Livius.

“No, not I. I have shot my bolt,” said Pertinax and closed his eyes, as if to shut out something from his memory—­or possibly to banish thoughts he did not relish.  There came a definite, hard glint into Livius’s eyes; he had a name for being sharper to detect intrigue and its ramifications than even the sharp outline of his face would indicate.

“You have heard of her latest indiscretion?” he asked, narrowly watching Pertinax.  “There is a robber at large, named Maternus—­you have heard of him?  The man appears and disappears.  Some say he is the same Maternus who was crucified near Antioch at about the time when you were there; some say he isn’t.  He is reported to visit Rome in various disguises, and to be able to conduct himself so well that he can pass for a patrician.  Some say he has a large band; some say, hardly any followers.  Some say it was he who robbed the emperor’s own mail a month ago.  He is reported to be here, there, everywhere; but there came at last reliable information that he lives in a cave in the woods on an estate that fell to the fiscus (the government department into which all payments were made, corresponding roughly to a modern treasury department) at the time when Maximus and his son Sextus were proscribed.”

Pertinax looked bored.  He yawned.

“I think I will go in and sweat a while,” he remarked.

“Not yet.  Let me finish,” said Livius.  “It was reported to Caesar that the highwayman Maternus lives in a cave on this Aventine estate, and that the slaves and tenants on the place, who, of course, all passed to the new owner when the estate was sold, not only tolerate him but supply him with victuals and news.  Caesar went into one of his usual frenzies, cursed half the senators by name, and ordered out a cohort from a legion getting ready to embark at Ostia.  He ordered them to lay waste the estate, burn all the woods and if necessary torture the slaves and tenants, until they had Maternus.  Dead or alive, they were not to dare to come without him, and meanwhile the rest of the legion was kept waiting at Ostia, with all the usual nuisance of desertions and drunkenness and what not else.”

“Everybody knows about that,” said Pertinax.  “As governor of Rome it was my duty to point out to the emperor the inconvenience of keeping that legion waiting under arms so near the city.  I was snubbed for my pains, but I did my duty.”

“Your duty?  There were plenty of people more concerned than you,” said Livius, looking again as if he thought he had detected an intrigue.  “There were the Ostian authorities, for instance, but I did not hear of their complaining.”