feeling was one of delight that a crew of merciless villains had been
captured and were about to pay the penalty of their crimes. Verres had
far more practical views. Justice might deal as she pleased with the old
and useless; the young and able bodied, and all who happened to be
handicraftsmen, were too valuable to be given up. His secretaries, his
retinue, his son had their share of the prize; six, who happened to be
singers, were sent as a present to a friend at Rome. As to the pirate
captain himself, no one knew what had become of him. It was a favorite
amusement in Sicily to watch the sufferings of a pirate, if the
government had had the luck but to catch one, while he was being slowly
tortured to death. The people of Syracuse, to whom the pirate captain
was only too well known, watched eagerly for the day when he was to be
brought out to suffer. They kept an account of those who were brought
out to execution, and reckoned them against the number of the crew,
which it had been easy to conjecture from the size of the ship. Verres
had to correct the deficiency as best he could. He had the audacity to
fill the places of the prisoners whom he had sold or given away with
Roman citizens, whom on various false pretenses he had thrown into
prison. The pirate captain himself was suffered to escape on the
payment, it was believed, of a very large sum of money.

But Verres had not yet done with the pirates. It was necessary that some
show, at least, of coping with them should be made. There was a fleet,
and the fleet must put to sea. A citizen of Syracuse, who had no sort of
qualification for the task, but whom Verres was anxious to get out of
the way, was appointed to the command. The governor paid it the unwonted
attention of coming out of his tent to see it pass. His very dress, as
he stood upon the shore, was a scandal to all beholders. His sandals,
his purple cloak, his tunic, or under-garment, reaching to his ankles,
were thought wholly unsuitable to the dignity of a Roman magistrate. The