Callista : a Tale of the Third Century

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by John Henry Newman


  CHAPTER XXIII.

  GURTA.

  In the bosom of the woods which stretched for many miles from theimmediate environs of Sicca, and placed on a gravel slope reaching down toa brook, which ran in a bottom close by, was a small, rude hut, of a kindpeculiar to Africa, and commonly ascribed to the wandering tribes, whoneither cared, nor had leisure for a more stable habitation. Some mighthave called it a tent, from the goat's-hair cloth with which it wascovered; but it looked, as to shape, like nothing else than an invertedboat, or the roof of a house set upon the ground. Inside it was seen to beconstructed of the branches of trees, twisted together or wattled, theinterstices, or rather the whole surface, being covered with clay. Beingthus stoutly built, lined, and covered, it was proof against thetremendous rains, to which the climate, for which it was made, wassubject. Along the centre ridge or backbone, which varied in height fromsix to ten feet from the ground, it was supported by three posts orpillars; at one end it rose conically to an open aperture, which servedfor chimney, for sky-light, and for ventilator. Hooks were suspended fromthe roof for baskets, articles of clothing, weapons, and implements ofvarious kinds; and a second cone, excavated in the ground with the vertexdownward, served as a storehouse for grain. The door was so low, that anordinary person must bend double to pass through it.

  However, it was in the winter months only, when the rains were profuse,that the owner of this respectable mansion condescended to creep into it.In summer she had a drawing-room, as it may be called, of nature's owncreation, in which she lived, and in one quarter of which she had herlair. Close above the hut was a high plot of level turf, surrounded by oldoaks, and fringed beneath with thick underwood. In the centre of thisgreen rose a yew-tree of primeval character. Indeed, the whole forestspoke of the very beginnings of the world, as if it had been the immediatecreation of that Voice which bade the earth clothe itself with green life.But the place no longer spoke exclusively of its Maker. Upon the treeshung the emblems and objects of idolatry, and the turf was traced withmagical characters. Littered about were human bones, horns of wildanimals, wax figures, spermaceti taken from vaults, large nails, to whichportions of flesh adhered, as if they had had to do with malefactors,metal plates engraved with strange characters, bottled blood, hair ofyoung persons, and old rags. The reader must not suppose any incantationis about to follow, or that the place we are describing will have aprominent place in what remains of our tale; but even if it be the sceneof only one conversation, and one event, there is no harm in describingit, as it appeared on that occasion.

  The old crone, who was seated in this bower of delight, had an expressionof countenance in keeping, not with the place, but with the furniture withwhich it was adorned; that furniture told her trade. Whether the root ofsuperstition might be traced deeper still, and the woman and her trapswere really and directly connected with the powers beneath the earth, itis impossible to determine; it is certain she had the will, it is certainthat that will was from their inspiration; nay, it is certain that shethought she really possessed the communications which she desired; it iscertain, too, she so far deceived herself as to fancy that what shelearned by mere natural means came to her from a diabolical source. Shekept up an active correspondence with Sicca. She was consulted by numbers;she was up with the public news, the social gossip, and the private andsecret transactions of the hour; and had, before now, even interfered inmatters of state, and had been courted by rival political parties. But inthe high cares and occupations of this interesting person, we are not hereconcerned; but with a conversation which took place between her and Juba,about the same hour of the evening as that of Caecilius's escape, but onthe day after it, while the sun was gleaming almost horizontally throughthe tall trunks of the trees of the forest.

  "Well, my precious boy," said the old woman, "the choicest gifts of greatCham be your portion! You had excellent sport yesterday, I'll warrant. Therats squeaked, eh? and you beat the life out of them. That scoundrelsacristan, I suppose, has taken up his quarters below."

  "You may say it," answered Juba. "The reptile! he turned right about, andwould have made himself an honest fellow, when it couldn't be helped."

  "Good, good!" returned Gurta, as if she had got something very pleasant inher mouth; "ah! that is good! but he did not escape on that score, I dotrust."

  "They pulled him to pieces all the more cheerfully," said Juba.

  "Pulled him to pieces, limb by limb, joint by joint, eh?" answered Gurta."Did they skin him?--did they do anything to his eyes, or his tongue?Anyhow, it was too quickly, Juba. Slowly, leisurely, gradually. Yes, it'slike a glutton to be quick about it. Taste him, handle him, play withhim,--that's luxury! but to bolt him,--faugh!"

  "Caeso's slave made a good end," said Juba: "he stood up for his views, anddied like a man."

  "The gods smite him! but he has gone up--up:" and she laughed. "Up to whatthey call bliss and glory;--such glory! but he's out of our domain, youknow. But he did not die easy?"

  "The boys worried him a good deal," answered Juba: "but it's not quite inmy line, mother, all this. I think you drink a pint of blood morning andevening, and thrive on it, old woman. It makes you merry; but it's toomuch for my stomach."

  "Ha, ha, my boy!" cried Gurta; "you'll improve in time, though you makewry faces, now that you're young. Well, and have you brought me any newsfrom the capitol? Is any one getting a rise in the world, or a downfall?How blows the wind? Are there changes in the camp? This Decius, I suspect,will not last long."

  "They all seem desperately frightened," said Juba, "lest they should notsmite your friends hard enough, Gurta. Root and branch is the word.They'll have to make a few Christians for the occasion, in order to killthem: and I almost think they're about it," he added, thoughtfully. "Theyhave to show that they are not surpassed by the rabble. 'Tis a pityChristians are so few, isn't it, mother?"

  "Yes, yes," she said, "but we must crush them, grind them, many or few:and we shall, we shall! Callista's to come."

  "I don't see they are worse than other people," said Juba; "not at all,except that they are commonly sneaks. If Callista turns, why should not Iturn too, mother, to keep her company, and keep your hand in?"

  "No, no, my boy," returned the witch, "you must serve _my_ master. You arehaving your fling just now, but you will buckle to in good time. You mustone day take some work with my merry men. Come here, child," said the fondmother, "and let me kiss you."

  "Keep your kisses for your monkeys and goats and cats," answered Juba;"they're not to my taste, old dame. Master! my master! I won't have amaster! I'll be nobody's servant. I'll never stand to be hired, nor cringeto a bully, nor quake before a rod. Please yourself, Gurta; I am a freeman. You're my mother by courtesy only."

  Gurta looked at him savagely. "Why, you're not going to be pious andvirtuous, Juba? A choice saint you'll make! You shall be drawn for apicture."

  "Why shouldn't I, if I choose?" said Juba. "If I must take service, willynilly, I'd any day prefer the other's to that of your friend. I've notleft the master to take the man."

  "Blaspheme not the great gods," she answered, "or they'll do you amischief yet."

  "I say again," insisted Juba, "if I must lick the earth, it shall not bewhere your friend has trod. It shall be in my brother's fashion, ratherthan in yours, Gurta."

  "Agellius!" she shrieked out with such disgust, that it is wonderful sheuttered the name at all. "Ah! you have not told me about him, boy. Well,is he safe in the pit, or in the stomach of an hyena?"

  "He's alive," said Juba; "but he has not got it in him to be a Christian.Yes, he's safe with his uncle."

  "Ah! Jucundus must ruin him, debauch him, and then we must make away withhim. We must not be in a hurry," said Gurta, "it must be body and soul."

  "No one shall touch him, craven as he is," answered Juba. "I despise him,but let him alone."

  "Don't come across me," said Gurta, sullenly; "I'll have my way. Why, youknow I could smi
te you to the dust, as well as him, if I chose."

  "But you have not asked me about Callista," answered Juba. "It is really acapital joke, but she has got into prison for certain, for being aChristian. Fancy it! they caught her in the streets, and put her in theguard-house, and have had her up for examination. You see they want aChristian for the nonce: it would not do to have none such in prison; sothey will flourish with her till Decius bolts from the scene."

  "The Furies have her!" cried Gurta: "she _is_ a Christian, my boy: I toldyou so, long ago!"

  "Callista a Christian!" answered Juba, "ha! ha! She and Agellius are goingto make a match of it, of some sort or other. They're thinking of otherthings than paradise."

  "She and the old priest, more likely, more likely," said Gurta. "He's inprison with her--in the pit, as I trust."

  "Your master has cheated you for once, old woman," said Juba.

  Gurta looked at him fiercely, and seemed waiting for his explanation. Hebegan singing,--

  "She wheedled and coaxed, but he was no fool; He'd be his own master, he'd not be her tool; Not the little black moor should send him to school.

  "She foamed and she cursed--'twas the same thing to him; She laid well her trap; but he carried his whim;-- The priest scuffled off, safe in life and in limb."

  Gurta was almost suffocated with passion. "Cyprianus has not escaped,boy?" she asked at length.

  "I got him off," said Juba, undauntedly.

  A shade, as of Erebus, passed over the witch's face; but she remainedquite silent.

  "Mother, I am my own master," he continued, "I must break your assumptionof superiority. I'm not a boy, though you call me so. I'll have my ownway. Yes, I saved Cyprianus. You're a bloodthirsty old hag! Yes, _I've_seen your secret doings. Did not I catch you the other day, practising onthat little child? You had nailed him up by hands and feet against thetree, and were cutting him to pieces at your leisure, as he quivered andshrieked the while. You were examining or using his liver for some of yourblack purposes. It's not in my line; but you gloated over it; and when hewailed, you wailed in mimicry. You were panting with pleasure."

  Gurta was still silent, and had an expression on her face, awful from theintensity of its malignity. She had uttered a low piercing whistle.

  "Yes!" continued Juba, "you revelled in it. You chattered to the poor babewhen it screamed, as a nurse to an infant. You called it pretty names, andsqueaked out your satisfaction each time you stuck it. You old hag! I'mnot of your breed, though they call us of kin. _I_ don't fear you," hesaid, observing the expression of her countenance, "I don't fear theimmortal devil!" And he continued his song--

  "She beckoned the moon, and the moon came down; The green earth shrivelled beneath her frown; But a man's strong will can keep his own."

  While he was talking and singing, her call had been answered from the hut.An animal of some wonderful species had crept out of it, and proceeded tocreep and crawl, moeing and twisting as it went, along the trees andshrubs which rounded the grass plot. When it came up to the old woman, itcrouched at her feet, and then rose up upon its hind legs and begged. Shetook hold of the uncouth beast and began to fondle it in her arms,muttering something in its ear. At length, when Juba stopped for a momentin his song, she suddenly flung it right at him, with great force, saying,"Take that!" She then gave utterance to a low inward laugh, and leanedherself back against the trunk of the tree upon which she was sitting,with her knees drawn up almost to her chin.

  The blow seemed to act on Juba as a shock on his nervous system, both fromits violence and its strangeness. He stood still for a moment, and then,without saying a word, he turned away, and walked slowly down the hill, asif in a maze. Then he sat down....

  In an instant up he started again with a great cry, and began running atthe top of his speed. He thought he heard a voice speaking in him; and,however fast he ran, the voice, or whatever it was, kept up with him. Herushed through the underwood, trampling and crushing it under his feet,and scaring the birds and small game which lodged there. At last,exhausted, he stood still for breath, when he heard it say loudly anddeeply, as if speaking with his own organs, "You cannot escape fromyourself!" Then a terror seized him; he fell down and fainted away.

 

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