“I am her betrothed.”
“What!”
But Vinicius sprang up and called his dispensator.
“Let the slaves stand before me to the last soul, quickly!”
“Art thou her betrothed?” repeated Petronius.
But before he recovered from his astonishment the immense atrium was swarming with people. Panting old men ran in, men in the vigor of life, women, boys, and girls. With each moment the atrium was filled more and more; in corridors, called “fauces,” voices were heard calling in various languages. Finally, all took their places in rows at the walls and among the columns. Vinicius, standing near the impluvium, turned to Demas, the freedman, and said,—
“Those who have served twenty years in my house are to appear tomorrow before the pretor, where they will receive freedom; those who have not served out the time will receive three pieces of gold and double rations for a week. Send an order to the village prisons to remit punishment, strike the fetters from people’s feet, and feed them sufficiently. Know that a happy day has come to me, and I wish rejoicing in the house.”
For a moment they stood in silence, as if not believing their ears; then all hands were raised at once, and all mouths cried,—“A-a! lord! a-a-a!”
Vinicius dismissed them with a wave of his hand. Though they desired to thank him and to fall at his feet, they went away hurriedly, filling the house with happiness from cellar to roof.
“To-morrow,” said Vinicius, “I will command them to meet again in the garden, and to make such signs on the ground as they choose. Lygia will free those who draw a fish.”