The Gladiators. A Tale of Rome and Judæa

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The Gladiators. A Tale of Rome and Judæa Page 27

by G. J. Whyte-Melville


  CHAPTER V

  SURGIT AMARI

  [Initial S]

  She had known but few moments of happiness, that proud unbending woman, inthe course of her artificial life. Now, though remorse was gnawing at herheart, there was such a wild delight in the Briton's presence, suchecstasy in the consciousness of having saved him, though at the price of ahateful crime, that the pleasure kept down and stifled the pain. It was anew sensation to cling to that stalwart form and acknowledge him for herlord whom others deemed a mere barbarian and a slave. It was intense joyto think that she had penetrated his noble character; that she had givenhim her love unasked, when such a gift could alone have saved him fromdestruction; and that she had grudged no price at which to ransom him forherself. It was the first time in Valeria's whole existence that she hadvindicated her woman's birthright of merging her own existence inanother's, and for the moment this engrossing consciousness completelyaltered the whole character and training of the patrician lady. Myrrhina,walking discreetly some ten paces behind, could hardly believe in theidentity of that drooping form, faltering in step, and timid in gesture,with her imperious and wilful mistress. This vigilant damsel, who wasnever flurried nor surprised, had effected her escape from the domesticsof the tribune's household, at the moment her practised ear caught thelight footstep of Valeria making its way to the door; and although shescarcely expected to see the latter pacing home with the captive at herside, as oblivious of her waiting-maid's existence, as of everything elsein the world, she was quite satisfied to observe that this preoccupationwas the result of interest in her companion. So long as an intrigue was onfoot, it mattered little to Myrrhina who might be its originators or itsvictims.

  They had not proceeded far before Esca stopped, waking up like a man froma dream.

  "I owe you my life," he said, in his calm voice and foreign accent, thatmade such music to her ear. "How shall I ever repay you, noble lady? Ihave nothing to give but the strength of my right arm, and of what servicecan such as I be to such as you?"

  She blushed deeply, and cast down her eyes.

  "We are not safe yet," she answered. "We will talk of this when we gethome."

  He looked before him down the stately street, with its majestic porticoes,its towering palaces, and its rows of lofty pillars, stretching on ingrand perspective till they met the dusky crimson of the evening sky; andperhaps he was thinking of a free upland, and blue hills, and laughingsunshine glittering on the mere and trembling in the green wood far awayat home, for he only answered by repeating her last word with a sigh, andadding: "There is none for me; a wanderer, an outcast, and a degradedman."

  She seemed to check the outburst that was rising to her lips, and she kepther eyes off his face, while she whispered--

  "I have determined to save you. Do you not know that there is nothing youcan ask me which I will not grant?"

  He raised her hand to his lips, but the gesture partook more of thedependant's homage than the lover's rapture. She felt instinctively thatit was a tribute of gratitude and loyalty, not an impassioned caress. Forthe second time, something seemed to warn her she had better have leftthat day's work undone. Then she began to talk rapidly of the dangers theymight undergo from pursuit, of the necessity for immediate flight to herhouse, and close concealment when there; wandering wildly on from onesubject to another, and apparently but half-conscious of anything shesaid. At last he asked her eagerly, even sternly--

  "And the tribune? What of him? How could you release me from his power? Itell you, I had the life of Placidus in my hand, as completely as if I hadbeen standing over him in the amphitheatre with my foot on his neck. Wouldany price have purchased me from him, with all I knew?"

  The crimson rose to her brow as she answered hurriedly, "No price! Believeme, no price that man could offer, or woman either! Esca, do not thinkworse of me than I deserve!"

  "Then why am I here?" he continued, with a softened look; "I would likewell to discover the secret by which Valeria can charm such a man asPlacidus to her will."

  She was very pale now.

  "The tribune will claim you no more," said she; "I have settled thataccount for ever."

  He did not understand her, yet he dropped the hand he held and walked on alittle farther from her side. She felt her punishment had alreadycommenced, and when she spoke again it was in hard cold accents quiteunlike her own.

  "He crossed my path, Esca, and he met the fate of all who are rash enoughto oppose Valeria. What motives of pity, or love, or honour, would availwith Placidus? When did he ever swerve a hair's-breadth from his goal forany consideration but self? I knew him, ah! too well. There was but oneinvincible argument for the tribune, and I used it. I slew him--slew himthere, upon his couch; but it was to save you!"

  Perhaps he felt he was ungrateful. Perhaps he tried to think that he, atleast, had no right to judge her harshly; that such devotion for his sakeshould have made him look with indulgent eye, even on so foul a crime asmurder; but he could not control the repugnance and horror that now rosein him for this beautiful, reckless, and unscrupulous woman: but while hestrove to conceal his feelings, and to mask them with an air of deferenceand gratitude, she knew by the instinct of love all that was passing inhis breast, and suffered, as those only can suffer, who have thrownhonour, virtue, conscience, everything to the winds, to purchase but theconviction that their shameful sacrifice has been in vain. She determinedto put a period to the tortures she was enduring. Ere this, they hadreached the street, from which opened the private entrance into her owngrounds. Myrrhina, though within sight, still kept discreetly in the rear.This was the situation, this was the moment that Valeria had pictured toherself in many a rapturous day-dream, that seemed too impossibly happyever to come to pass. To have ransomed him from some great danger at someequivalent price; to have led him off with her in triumph; those twopacing by themselves through the deserted streets at the witching sunsethour; to have brought him home her own, her very own, to this identicalgate exactly in this manner; to have none between them, none to watchthem, except faithful Myrrhina, and to see before her a long future ofuninterrupted sunshine, this it had been ecstasy to dream of--and now ithad come, and brought with it a dull sickening sensation that was worsethan pain. She had a brave rebellious nature, in keeping with the haughtyhead and stately form hereditary in her line. No scion of that noble oldhouse would shrink or quiver under mental, any more than under bodily,torture. Among the ancestral busts that graced her cornices, was that ofone who endured with a calm set face to watch his own hand shrivelled upand crackling in the glowing coals. His descendants, male and female,partook of that unflinching character; and not Mutius Scaevola himself,erect and stern before the Tuscan king, had more of the desperate tenacitywhich sets fate itself at defiance, than lurked under the soft white skin,and the ready smile, and the voluptuous beauty of proud Valeria.

  She looked prouder and fairer than ever now, as she stopped at her owngate and confronted the Briton.

  'You are safe she said']

  "You are safe," she said, and what it cost her to say it none knew butherself. "You are free besides, and at liberty to go where you will."

  The rapture with which he kissed her hand while she spoke, the gleam ofdelight that lit up his whole face, the intense gratitude with which hebowed himself to the ground before her, smote like repeated strokes of adagger to her heart. She continued in accents of well-acted indifference,though a less preoccupied observer might have marked the quivering eyelidand dilated nostril--

  "You may have friends whom you long to see--friends who have been anxiousabout your safety. Though it seems," she added, ironically, "they havetaken but little pains to set you out of danger."

  Esca was always frank and honest; this was, perhaps, the charm that,combined with his yellow locks and broad shoulders, so endeared him to theRoman lady. She was unaccustomed to these qualities in the men she usuallymet.
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br />   "I have no friends," he answered, rather sadly; "none in the whole of thisgreat city, except perhaps yourself, noble lady, who care whether I amalive or dead. Yet I have one mission, for the power of performing whichthis very night I thank you far more than for saving my life. To-morrow,it would be too late."

  The tone was less that of a question than an assertion, in which sheforced out the words--

  "It concerns that dark-eyed girl! Esca, do not fear to tell me the truth."

  A faint red stole over the young man's brow. They were standing togetherwithin the garden-wall on the smooth lawn that sloped towards the house.The black cedars cut clear and distinct against the pure serene opal ofthe fading sky. A star or two were dimly visible, and not a breath stirredthe silent foliage of the holm-oaks, folded as it were in sleep, or thedrooping flowers, drowsy with the very weight of fragrance they exhaled.It was the time and place for a confession of love. What a mockery itseemed to Valeria to stand there and watch his rising colour, and listento the faltering voice in which he betrayed his secret!

  "I must save her, noble lady," said he; "I must save her this very night,whatever else be left undone. Be he dead or alive, she shall not enter thetribune's house, whilst I can strike a blow or grasp an enemy by thethroat. Lady, you have earned my eternal gratitude, my eternal service;give me but this one night, and I return to-morrow to be the humblest andmost willing of your slaves for ever after."

  "And see her no more?" asked Valeria, with a choking throat and a strongtendency to burst into tears.

  "And see her no more," repeated Esca, sadly and resignedly.

  There was no mistaking the tone of manly, unselfish, and utterly hopelesslove. Valeria passed her hand across her face, and tried more than once tospeak. At last she muttered in a hoarse hard voice--

  "You love her then very dearly?"

  He raised his head proudly, and a smile came on his lips, a light into hisblue eyes. She remembered how he had looked so in the arena, when he gavehis salute before the imperial chair. She remembered, too, a pair of darkeyes and a pale face that followed his every movement.

  "So dearly," was his answer, "that can I but rescue her I will gladlybargain to give her up and never even look on her again. How can I thinkof myself when the question is of her happiness and her safety?"

  Valeria with all her faults was a woman. She had indeed dreamed of anaffection such as this, an affection purified from the dross and alloythat combine to form so much of what men call love. She might not becapable of feeling it, but, womanlike, she could admire and appreciate thenobility of its aspirations, and the ideal standard to which it stretched.Womanlike, too, she was not to be outdone in generosity, and Esca'sproposal of returning to her household, and submitting to her willdirectly he had accomplished his errand, disarmed her completely. She wasnot accustomed to analyse her feelings, or to check the reckless impulsewhich always bade her act on the spur of the moment. She did not stop toconsider to-morrow's repentance, nor the grudging regrets which would goadher when the excitement of her self-denial had died out, and the blankthat had hitherto rendered existence so dreary would be even lesstolerable than before. If a shadowy misgiving that she would repent herconcession hereafter passed for a moment across her mind, she hastened torepress it, ere it should warp her better intentions; and she could urgehim to leave her now, with all the more importunity, that she dared nottrust her heart to waver for an instant in the sacrifice.

  "You are alone," said she, calming herself with a great effort, andspeaking very quick. "Alone in this great city, but you are loyal andbrave. Such men are rare here and are worth a legion. Still, you must havegold in your bosom and steel at your belt, if you would succeed. You shalltake both from me, and you will tell the dark-eyed girl that it wasValeria who saved her and you."

  His blue eyes turned upon her with looks of the deepest, the most ferventgratitude, and again the wild love surged up in her heart, and threatenedto swamp every consideration but its own irresistible longing. His answer,however, sent it ebbing coldly back again.

  "We shall be ever grateful; oh! that either of us could prove it! We shallnot forget Valeria."

  Myrrhina thought her mistress had never looked so queenly, as when shecalled her up at this juncture, and bade her fetch a purse of gold fromher own cabinet, and one of the swords that hung in the vestibule, anddeliver them to Esca. Then, very erect and pale, Valeria walked towardsthe house, apparently insensible to his thanks and protestations, butturned round ere she had reached the threshold, and gave him her hand tokiss. Myrrhina returning from her errand, saw the face that was bent overhim as he stooped in act of homage, and even that hollow-hearted girl wastouched by its wild, tender, and mournful expression, but ere he couldlook up, it was cold and passionless as marble once more. Then shedisappeared slowly through the porch, and Myrrhina with all her daring hadnot the courage to follow her into the privacy of her own chamber.

 

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