o do
nothing.

There was, indeed, no pressing work on hand. Only from time to time the
_Referendarius_, who occupied a room to himself next door to theirs,
would communicate with them through a hole in the wall, demanding
information on some point or asking to be supplied with certain
documents. Then the clerks would make a momentary pretence of being
busy, and ultimately the scribes would find either the documents or the
information which were required.

As it was, the clerks were all of them engaged in occupations which were
remote from official work. The eldest of them, Cephalus by name--a man
who was distinguished from the others by a certain refined sobriety both
in his dark dress and in his quiet demeanour--was reading a treatise on
algebra; the second, Theophilus, a musician, whose tunic was as bright
as his flaming hair, was mending a small organ; and the third, Rufinus,
a rather pale, short-sighted, and untidy youth, was scribbling on a
tablet. The scribes were busy sorting old records and putting them away
in their permanent places.

Presently an official strolled in from another department. He was a
middle-aged, corpulent, and cheerful-looking man, dressed in gaudy
coloured tissue, on which all manner of strange birds were depicted. He
was bursting with news.

"Phocas is going to win," he said. "It is certain."

Cephalus looked vaguely up from his book and said: "Oh!"

Theophilus and Rufinus paid no attention to the remark.

"Well," continued the new-comer cheerfully, "Who will come to the races
with me?"

As soon as he heard the word races, Rufinus looked up from his
scribbling. "I will come," he said, "if I can get leave."

"I did not know you cared for that sort of thing," said Cephalus.

Rufinus blushed and murmured something about going every now and then.
He walked out of the room, and sought the _Referendarius_ in the next
room. This official was reading a document. He did not look up when
Rufinus entered, but went on with his reading. At last, after a
prolonged interval, he turned round and said: "What is it?"

"May I go to the races?" asked Rufinus.

"Well," said the high official, "what about your work?"

"We've finished everything," said the clerk.

The Head of the Department assumed an air of mystery and coughed.

"I don't think I can very well see my way to letting you go," he said.
"I am very sorry," he added quickly, "and if it depended on me you
should go at once. But He," h