estigate the matter and punish my slave. She had, like the
great noblewoman she was, assumed my acquiescence and approval and
summoned and questioned Agathemer. Before I appeared his answers had
convicted him. She did not look round at me as I joined the group and
seated myself in a vacant chair on her left, between Vedia and Claudia
Ardeana. As I seated myself she gave the order:

"Strip him and give him a hundred lashes!"

Now, then and there I found myself in the most cruel and painful situation
I had ever been in my life. Agathemer and I had been playmates almost from
our cradles; comrades, cronies, chums all our lives. Neither of us had
ever had a brother. Each had been, since infancy, a brother to the other.
I could not have loved a real brother any more than I loved Agathemer, nor
could he have had more implicit confidence in the goodwill of a blood
brother. I was, in fact, as solicitous for Agathemer's welfare as for my
own, and I rejoiced with his joys and mourned with his griefs. I would
have done anything to protect him and save him, as he had faithfully and
tirelessly nursed and cared for me in my illness.

But I knew that no explanations could ever make Nemestronia understand our
mutual relations or accept my views of them; to her a slave was a slave;
she felt as unalterable a gulf between free man and slave as between
mankind and cattle. I could only let her have her way, though I was
inundated with misery at the thought of Agathemer's approaching agonies. I
had been hotly wrathful with him and had meditated, as I dressed, what
sort of punishment would befit his fault: now that Nemestronia had ordered
him flogged my resentment against him had all oozed out of me and I was
filled with sympathy for him and scorn of my cowardice in not protecting
him. I glanced at him as the lashers stripped and bound him. He sent back
at me a glance which said, as plain as words:

"I am to blame. I know you are sorry for me. But give no sign, I must go
through this alone."

And I had to sit there while the head-lasher flogged him till the pavement
on which he lay was all a pool of gore, till his back was in tatters from
neck to hips, till he was carried off, insensible, perhaps dead.

Also I had to express my approbation of Nemestronia's orders, and had to
sit there and chat with the ladies, seven of whom were inclined to be
facetious over the figure I had cut sprawling on the mosaic walk, tussling
with that abominable