“Fabia,” said the other Vestal, severely, “I am older than you.  I have beheld sights you have never seen.  I saw the riots when Saturninus and Glaucia came to their ends; when Marius was chased from Rome and Sulpicius put to death; when Marius returned with Cinna; and all the massacres and strife attending the taking of the city by Sulla.  But never has the name of Vesta been insufficient to protect us from the violence of the basest or the most godless.  Nor will it now.  I will trust in the goddess, and the fear of her, which protects her maidens against all men.  We will sleep to-night as usual.  I will not send anywhere to have guards stationed around the house and Temple.”

Fabia bowed her head.  The word of the aged Maxima was law in the little community.  Fabia told herself that Fonteia was right—­not even Gabinius would dare to set unhallowed foot inside the Atrium Vestae.  But the vision of the coarse, sensual face of her unloved lover was ever before her.  In ordinary times she would have been tempted to go to one of the consuls and demand that Fonteia be overruled; but in ordinary times there would not have been the least need of adding to the already sufficient city watch.  It lacked four hours of midnight before she brought herself to take her tablets and write the following brief note:—­

“Fabia the Vestal to Agias her good friend, greeting.  I am in some anxiety to-night.  Gabinius, Lucius Ahenobarbus’s friend, is in the city.  He means, I fear, to work me some mischief, though the cause whereby I have good reason to dread him is too long here to write.  The Atrium Vestae has nothing to protect it to-night—­as you well may understand—­from impious, violent men.  Can you not guard me overnight?  I do not know how.  Gabinius may have all Dumnorix’s band with him.  But you alone are equal to an host.  I trust you, as Drusus and Cornelia have trusted you. Vale.”

Fabia called one of the young slave-girls who waited on the Vestals.  The relation between servant and mistress, in the Temple company, was almost ideal in its gentle loyalty.  The slaves were happy in their bondage.

“Erigone,” she said, putting the tablets in the girl’s hand, “I am about to ask of you a very brave thing.  Do you dare to take this letter through the city?” and she told her how to find Agias’s lodgings.  “Come back in the morning if you dread a double journey.  But do not tell Fonteia; she would be angry if she knew I sent you, though there is nothing but what is right in the letter.”

“I will carry the tablets to Scythia for you, domina,” replied the girl, kissing the hem of her mistress’s robe.  “I know all the streets.  If I live, the letter shall be delivered.”

“Go by the alleys,” enjoined Fabia; “they are safer, for you will not be seen.  Speak to no one.  Let none stop you.”