Great respect was always paid to the Vestal Maxima, and the assembled priests and those at the table with them rose, while Hyacintha was conducted to a chair, into which she sank apparently exhausted. When she had recovered herself, she asked permission to address the High Priest from the chair, as her health had failed, and she could hardly make herself intelligible if she had to encounter the fatigue of standing while she spoke.
First she drew from the folds of her pallium a parchment on which was inscribed, by her own hand, all the financial details of the house, and its present condition. When that had been handed in and laid on the table, Hyacintha said:—
“I crave permission to resign the office of Vestal Maxima, and I pray you, most noble father, to consider the election of my successor. I have but a short space to live, and I would fain spend that time in the retirement of my own chamber. The thirty years which are supposed to limit the service of the Vestals are over. I entered the atrium, sent hither by my late noble father Severus, in the year three hundred and three. My consecration followed in due course, and then on the death of Terentia Rufilla, of whose noble house I am a member, I was honoured by your choice as Vestal Maxima. I have striven to perform my duty of late in great suffering of body and of mind. I pray, therefore, to be released therefrom, and that you appoint a worthy successor to all the duties which have devolved on me.”
There was a murmur of dissent amongst those who sat around, and then one of the Council, fixing a pair of keen black eyes upon Hyacintha, said:—
“There may be hidden motives why you, Hyacintha Severa, resign your office. Nay, there are hidden motives.”
Then the High Priest raised his hand, and said in a tone of command:—
“We must defer this matter for a season, and we will ask you to appear before us again at a future time. If matters there be that require investigation, that investigation must be made.”
Hyacintha rose and seemed about to speak, when a deadly paleness overspread her face, and she slipped from the chair in a deep swoon upon the floor.
The attendants outside were summoned, and Hyacintha was carried to her own chamber, Hermione following, where several women who were her especial servants received her, and she was laid upon her couch, apparently lifeless. But the usual nostrums and restoratives had the desired effect, and the Vestal Maxima revived and looked round on them all with her sweetest smile.
They piled the cushions up behind her on the couch, and Hermione fanned her with cool palm leaves, and, stooping every now and then, kissed her on the forehead. If Hyacintha had been radiantly beautiful in youth and early womanhood, she was beautiful now with a beauty which is not of this world. Traces of the mental struggle through which she had passed were seen on her face, it is true; the delicate flush of youth and health had vanished, but over that noble countenance there was shed the calm light of the evening—the earnest of a coming rest, the sign of the victory won.