Saturius looked at the man indignantly. Who was this that dared to bid against Domitian, the third dignitary in all the Roman empire, Caesar"s son, Caesar"s brother, who might himself be Caesar? Still he answered with another bid of eleven hundred.
Once more the finger of Domitian went up.
"Twelve. Twelve hundred!" said the auctioneer, in a voice of suppressed excitement, while the audience gasped, for such prices had not been heard of.
"Thirteen," said the Chamberlain.
Again the finger went up.
"Fourteen hundred. I have fourteen hundred. Against you, worthy Saturius. Come, come, I must knock the lot down, which perhaps would not please some whom I could mention. Don"t be stingy, friend, you have a large purse to draw on, and it is called the Roman Empire. Now. Thank you, I have fifteen hundred. Well, my friend yonder. What! Have you had enough?" and he pointed to the Alexandrian merchant, who, with a groan, had turned aside and hidden his face in his hands.
"Knocked out, knocked out, it seems," said the auctioneer, "and though it is little enough under all the circ.u.mstances for this lot, who is as lovely as she is historical, I suppose that I can scarcely expect----"
and he looked around despondently.
Suddenly the old woman with the basket glanced up and, speaking in a quiet matter-of-fact voice but with a foreign accent, said:
"Two thousand."
A t.i.tter of laughter went around the room.
"My dear madam?" queried the auctioneer, looking at her dubiously, "might I ask if you mean sester_tii_ or sester_tia_?[*] Your pardon, but it has occurred to me that you might be confounding the two sums."
[*] A _sestertius_ was worth less than 2d., a _sestertium_ was a sum of money of the value of about 8.
"Two thousand sester_tia_," repeated the matter-of-fact voice with the foreign accent.
"Well, well," said the auctioneer, "I suppose that I must accept the bid. Friend Saturius, I have two thousand sestertia, and it is against you."
"Against me it must remain, then," replied the little man in a fury. "Do all the kings in the world want this girl? Already I have exceeded my limit by five hundred sestertia. I dare do no more. Let her go."
"Don"t vex yourself, Saturius," said the auctioneer, "bidding is one thing, paying another. At present I have a bona-fide bid of fifteen hundred from you. Unless this liberal but unknown lady is prepared with the cash I shall close on that. Do you understand, madam?"
"Perfectly," answered the veiled old woman. "Being a stranger to Rome I thought it well to bring the gold with me, since strangers cannot expect credit."
"To bring the gold with you!" gasped the auctioneer. "To bring two thousand sestertia with you! Where is it then?"
"Where? Oh! in my servant"s and my own baskets, and something more as well. Come, good sir, I have made my bid. Does the worthy gentleman advance?"
"No," shouted Saturius. "You are being fooled, she has not got the money."
"If he does not advance and no other worthy gentleman wishes to bid, then will you knock the lot down?" said the old woman. "Pardon me if I press you, n.o.ble seller of slaves, but I must ride far from Rome to-night, to Centum Cellae, indeed, where my ship waits; therefore, I have no time to lose."
Now the auctioneer saw that there was no choice, since under the rules of the public mart he must accept the offer of the highest bidder.
"Two thousand sestertia are bid for this lot No. 7, the Jewish captive known as Pearl-Maiden, sold by order of t.i.tus Imperator, together with her collar of pearls and the property to which, as a free woman, she would have been ent.i.tled. Any advance on two thousand sestertia?" and he looked at Saturius, who shook his head. "No? Then--going--going--gone!
I declare the lot sold, to be delivered on payment of the cash to the person named--by the way, madam, what is your name?"
"Mulier."
At this the company burst into a loud laugh.
"Mulier?" repeated the auctioneer, "M u l i e r--Woman?"
"Yes, am I not a woman, and what better name can I have than is given to all my s.e.x?"
"In truth, you are so wrapped up that I must take your word for it,"
replied the auctioneer. "But come, let us put an end to this farce. If you have the money, follow me into the receiving house--for I must see to the matter myself--and pay it down."
"With pleasure, sir, but be so good as to bring my property with you. She is too valuable to be left here unprotected amongst these distinguished but disappointed gentlemen."
Accordingly Miriam was led from the marble stand into an office annexed to the receiving-house, whither she was followed by the auctioneer and by Nehushta and her servant, whose backs, it was now observed, bent beneath the weight of the baskets that were strapped upon them. Here the door was locked, and with the help of her attendant Nehushta loosened her basket, letting it fall upon the table with a sigh of relief.
"Take it and count," he said to the auctioneer, untying the lid.
He lifted it and there met his eye a layer of lettuces neatly packed.
"By Venus!" he began in a fury.
"Softly, friend, softly," said Nehushta, "these lettuces are of a kind which only grow in yellow soil. Look," and lifting the vegetables she revealed beneath row upon row of gold coin. "Examine it before you count," she said.
He did so by biting pieces at hazard with his teeth and causing them to ring upon the marble table.
"It is good," he said.
"Quite so. Then count."
So he and the clerk counted, even to the bottom of the basket, which was found to contain gold to the value of over eleven hundred sestertia.
"So far well," he said, "but that is not enough."
The buyer beckoned to the man with her who stood in the corner, his face hidden by the shadow, and he dragged forward the second basket, which he had already unstrapped from his shoulders. Here also were lettuces, and beneath the lettuces gold. When the full two thousand sestertia were counted, that is, over fifteen thousand pounds of our money, this second basket still remained more than a third full.
"I ought to have run you up, madam," said the auctioneer, surveying the shining gold with greedy eyes.
"Yes," she replied calmly, "if you had guessed the truth you might have done so. But who knows the truth, except myself?"
"Are you a sorceress?" he asked.
"Perhaps. What does it matter? At least, the gold will not melt. And, by the way, it is troublesome carrying so much of the stuff back again.
Would you like a couple of handfuls for yourself, and say ten pieces for your clerk? Yes? Well, please first fill in that deed with the name that I shall give you and with your own as witness? Here it is--"Miriam, daughter of Demas and Rachel, born in the year of the death of Herod Agrippa." Thank you. You have signed, and the clerk also, I think. Now I will take that roll.
"One thing more, there is another door to this Receiving-house? With your leave I should prefer to go out that way, as my newly acquired property seems tired, and for one day has had enough of public notice.
You will, I understand, give us a few minutes to depart before you return to the rostrum, and your clerk will be so courteous as to escort us out of the Forum. Now help yourself. Man, can"t you make your hand larger than that? Well, it will suffice to pay for a summer holiday. I see a cloak there which may serve to protect this slave from the chill air of the night. In case it should be claimed, perhaps these five pieces will pay for it. Most n.o.ble and courteous sir, again I thank you.
Young woman, throw this over your bare shoulders and your head; that necklace might tempt the dishonest.
"Now, if our guide is ready we will be going. Slave, bring the basket, at the weight of which you need no longer groan, and you, young woman, strap on this other basket; it is as well that you should begin to be instructed in your domestic duties, for I tell you at once that having heard much of the skill of the Jews in those matters, I have bought you to be my cook and to attend to the dressing of my hair. Farewell, sir, farewell; may we never meet again."
"Farewell," replied the astonished auctioneer, "farewell, my lady Mulier, who can afford to give two thousand sestertia for a cook! Good luck to you, and if you are always as liberal as this, may we meet once a month, say I. Yet have no fear," he added meaningly, "I know when I have been well treated and shall not seek you out--even to please Caesar himself."