Should Vocco travel to Fregellae and force an interview with Almo and try to appeal to his better self? If so, should he do so without apprizing Egnatius of the real name and origin of his overseer? Or should they enlighten Egnatius under a pledge of secrecy and afterwards decide whether or not to make an attempt to recall Almo to his natural way of life? Should they do any of these things without appealing to the Emperor or would it be better first to inform Commodus? They debated over and over every line of conduct any one of them could suggest. After all complete inaction and entire secrecy seemed best.

This view was confirmed when Brinnaria consulted Celsianus, the most reputed physician of Rome. She had already confided in Lutorius, who informed Celsianus, arranged for an interview and was present at it.

The great man said: “Almo is not necessarily or even probably deranged. On the face of what you tell me the most unfavorable conjecture I could form would be that he has resolved to commit suicide. You will say that the idea is absurd, that suicide is easy and that the means are always at hand, which is quite true.

“But there are cases, more numerous than you could fancy, of persons who make up their minds to bring about their end in some unimaginable manner, of which nobody but themselves would ever have thought. Then they lay complicated plans and by devious ways approach their purpose. If they are thwarted or diverted, they never end their lives in any other fashion than by the special method they have devised.

“I am inclined to think that Almo’s entrance into a gang of sword-fighters was caused by some such intention, that he is alive because the circumstances he looked forward to never conspired to give him just the kind of death he preferred. I am inclined to think that he is now working towards some unthinkable exit from life.

“But I am not much disposed to think his such a case at all. It may be a mere whim of self-torment, or it may be spontaneous yielding to a genuine liking for the life he is living. What one human being likes cannot be realized by other human beings, in many cases.

“My advice is to let him entirely alone. If you interfere you may precipitate his suicide, if he meditates suicide. By calling in the help of the Emperor or of his owner or both, you may destroy the chances, the very good chances, of his returning to his full senses. Men in his state of mind are often sane in all respects, and, if unsettled, are deranged only in one particular. They are generally wholly reasonable on all points except as to their fad of the moment. If that wears off they are entirely rational. Let him alone. Watch him, but take no other steps.”

This advice seemed simple enough, but carrying it out proved more of a strain than Brinnaria could have foreseen. The knowledge that Almo was in Italy, near Fregellae, actually in Latium and within seventy miles of Rome, that he was living in the hut of an under-farm-bailiff, that he perhaps purposed some eccentric method of suicide proved racking to her nerves. She became irritable and fidgety, her music failed to solace or comfort her and sometimes almost bored her. She groped blindly for something to distract her mind.

First she had a brief but violent attack of solicitude for her pauper tenants. She found entertainment in visiting her slum properties and in endeavoring to alleviate the condition of their inmates. They were far from grateful. To have a Vestal, clad in the awe-inspiring dignity of her white robes, with all her badges of office, six braids, headdress, headband, tassels, ribbons, brooch and all descend from her dazzlingly upholstered carriage and invade the courtyard of their hive was thrilling but still more disconcerting to a swarm of slum spawn. They bragged of the honor for the rest of their lives and strutted over it for months, but they were unaffectedly relieved to see her depart.

Her inquiries as to their means of livelihood were excruciatingly embarrassing. The Roman populace, all freemen with their wives and children, were legally entitled to free seats at the spectacles and to cooked rations from the government cook-shops in their precinct. They throve on their free rations. Of their own efforts they had merely to clothe themselves and pay the rent of their quarters. Cash for rent and garments they obtained in whatever way happened to be easiest, often by dubious means. As to their resources they were reticent.