nded man who meant to favor
no one and to ferret out the exact truth.

Corbulo in his full senatorial attire, the broad crimson stripe more
conspicuous than the white of his toga, sat in his chair at the center of
the apse of the basilica, his apparitors behind him. In the nave of the
basilica, surrounded by guards, were herded those members of Falco's
retinue who had been in his house at the time of his murder. Further down
the nave were many outsiders, come to listen to the trial. In the aisles
were gathered hangers-on of the court. In the apse, to the left and right
of the tribunal, stood many of Falco's friends, among whom I recognized
Casperius Asellio and Vespronius Lustralis. Among those on the other side
of the magistrate were Tanno and Galen.

The bare, bleak interior of the ancient, old-fashioned basilica, with its
blackened roof-beams, unadorned walls, Travertine columns of the severest
Tuscan pattern, and plain window-lattices, made an austere setting for the
trial. I saw nowhere any rack, winches, horse, or any other engine or
torture; but, while Dromo was gone, four muscular court-slaves came
tramping In, each supporting a pole end. The two long poles were passed
through the four ear-handles of a bronze brazier all of five feet square,
level full of glowing charcoal, the brilliant bed of coals radiating an
intense heat perceptible as they passed near me. When they had set it down
in full view of all and near the tribunal one of them shook out and folded
four-thick a thin Spanish blanket of harsh wiry wool and spread the square
of it by the brazier, squatting on it to tend the coals with a long-
handled five pronged altar-hook.

When Dromo returned with my garments and I was clad as Phorbas, Corbulo
questioned me as to when Falco had bought me, where and from whom. To my
relief he did not ask me how Rufius Libo had acquired me. He did ask my
age, but nothing else concerning my past. As to my life with Falco in
Africa and at Rome, he questioned me closely. I told him all about Falco's
character, his gem-collecting, the effect on him of the murders of
Commodus and Pertinax, his forebodings and his utterances to me about his
will. When he felt that he knew all I had to tell along these lines, he
said:

"Now tell me your version of your master's death."

He heard me out and said:

"I believe you. You speak like a truth-teller."

He then questioned the janitor, who babbled and cringed, half
unintelligibl