Chapter III
SALLUST AND NYDIA'S LETTER.
THRICE had Sallust awakened from his morning sleep, and thrice,recollecting that his friend was that day to perish, had he turnedhimself with a deep sigh once more to court oblivion. His sole objectin life was to avoid pain; and where he could not avoid, at least toforget it.
At length, unable any longer to steep his consciousness in slumber, heraised himself from his incumbent posture, and discovered his favoritefreedman sitting by his bedside as usual; for Sallust, who, as I havesaid, had a gentlemanlike taste for the polite letters, was accustomedto be read to for an hour or so previous to his rising in the morning.
'No books to-day! no more Tibullus! no more Pindar for me! Pindar!alas, alas! the very name recalls those games to which our arena is thesavage successor. Has it begun--the amphitheatre? are its ritescommenced?'
'Long since, O Sallust! Did you not hear the trumpets and the tramplingfeet?'
'Ay, ay; but the gods be thanked, I was drowsy, and had only to turnround to fall asleep again.'
'The gladiators must have been long in the ring.'
'The wretches! None of my people have gone to the spectacle?'
'Assuredly not; your orders were too strict.'
'That is well--would the day were over! What is that letter yonder onthe table?'
'That! Oh, the letter brought to you last night, when youwere--too--too...'
'Drunk to read it, I suppose. No matter, it cannot be of muchimportance.'
'Shall I open it for you, Sallust,'
'Do: anything to divert my thoughts. Poor Glaucus!'
The freedman opened the letter. 'What! Greek?' said he: some learnedlady, I suppose.' He glanced over the letter, and for some moments theirregular lines traced by the blind girl's hand puzzled him. Suddenly,however, his countenance exhibited emotion and surprise. 'Good gods!noble Sallust! what have we done not to attend to this before? Hear meread!
'"Nydia, the slave, to Sallust, the friend of Glaucus! I am a prisonerin the house of Arbaces. Hasten to the praetor! procure my release, andwe shall yet save Glaucus from the lion. There is another prisonerwithin these walls, whose witness can exonerate the Athenian from thecharge against him--one who saw the crime--who can prove the criminal ina villain hitherto unsuspected. Fly! hasten! quick! quick! Bring withyou armed men, lest resistance be made, and a cunning and dexteroussmith; for the dungeon of my fellow-prisoner is thick and strong. Oh!by thy right hand and thy father's ashes, lose not a moment!"'
'Great Jove!' exclaimed Sallust, starting, 'and this day--nay, withinthis hour, perhaps, he dies. What is to be done? I will instantly tothe praetor.'
'Nay; not so. The praetor (as well as Pansa, the editor himself) is thecreature of the mob; and the mob will not hear of delay; they will notbe balked in the very moment of expectation. Besides, the publicity ofthe appeal would forewarn the cunning Egyptian. It is evident that hehas some interest in these concealments. No; fortunately thy slaves arein thy house.'
'I seize thy meaning,' interrupted Sallust: 'arm the slaves instantly.The streets are empty. We will ourselves hasten to the house ofArbaces, and release the prisoners. Quick! quick! What ho! Davusthere! My gown and sandals, the papyrus and a reed.' I will write tothe praetor, to beseech him to delay the sentence of Glaucus, for that,within an hour, we may yet prove him innocent. So, so, that is well.Hasten with this, Davus, to the praetor, at the amphitheatre. See itgiven to his own hand. Now then, O ye gods! whose providence Epicurusdenied, befriend me, and I will call Epicurus a liar!'
The Last Days of Pompeii Page 46