less and moody. The younger
Vestals, whose attendance on the sacred fire and care of the Temple
she oversaw, wondered at her exacting petulance. Little Livia brought
her aunt to her senses, by asking why she, Fabia, did not love her any
more. The lady summoned all her strength of character, and resumed her
outward placidity. She knew that Drusus was safe with Caesar, and
exposed only to the ordinary chances of war. She became more at ease
as each successive messenger came into the city, bearing the tidings
of the Gallic proconsul's advance. Too innocent herself of the
political turmoils of the day to decide upon the merits of the
parties, her hopes and wishes had gone with those of her nephew; so
pure and unquestioning was her belief that he would espouse only the
right. And when the great panic came; when trembling consulars and
pallid magistrates rushed to the Temple of Vesta to proffer their last
hurried vows, before speeding away to Capua, their refuge; Fabia stood
all day beside the altar, stately, gracious, yet awe-inspiring, the
fitting personification of the benignant Hearth Goddess, who was above
the petty passions of mortals and granted to each an impartial favour.

Yet Fabia was sorely distressed, and that too on the very day of the
great exodus of the Senate. She had heard for some time past rumours
of the depredations of a certain band of robbers upon the Sabine and
AEquian country. It was said that a gang of bandits, headed by a
gigantic Gaul, had plundered some farms near Carsioli and infested the
mountain regions round about. Fabia had connected this gang and its
chieftain with Dumnorix and the remnant of his gladiators, who escaped
after their disastrous affray at Praeneste. As for Publius Gabinius,
who had on one occasion given her such distress, nothing had been
heard or seen of him since the Praeneste affair. It was generally
believed, however, that he was still with Dumnorix. And a few days
before the panic in the city, Fabia had received a letter. A strange
slave had left it at the Atrium Vestae, and had gone away without
explanations. It ran thus:--

"To the very noble Vestal, the Lady Fabia, greeting:--

Though I am now so unfortunate as to be barred from the doors of all
law-abiding men, do not imagine this will forever continue. In the
confusion and readjustments of war, and the calamities of many, the
affairs of some, one time enemies of Fortune, come to a happy issue.
Do not say that Mars