“The Temple!” cried Brinnana. “Fire! And everybody ill except Gargilia and Numisia! And all they could think of would be saving that dear old blind saint and that contemptible cry-baby. Ten to one they have missed the Palladium and taken one of the dummies by mistake!
“O, Almo, I must go save the Palladium!”
Of course Almo protested.
“Don’t hinder me,” she begged. “Go I must, whether you object or not. We’d never forgive ourselves if to-morrow we learned too late that the Vestals missed the true Palladium in the confusion, whereas I might have saved it if I had tried. They may have taken the real Palladium; I may be too late now to save it if they made a mistake, but I am bound to try.”
He shut his lips, but she read his eyes.
“That is like my hero,” she said. “Patriotism first, self last.
“Barbo,” she called, “run before me and clear the way as if I were still a Vestal. It’s illegal, but it will work.”
She started for the house-door and then paused.
“Have you any fire buckets?” she asked Almo. “Then have two of the slaves each fill a bucket and keep close behind us.”
Amid the prayers and blessings of the wedding-guests, they went out hand in hand, the two slaves with leather water-buckets behind them, Barbo ahead, bellowing: