Felicitas: A Tale of the German Migrations: A.D. 476
Page 5
CHAPTER IV.
Crispus then turned to go towards the house.
"What dost thou wish to do?? asked Fulvius.
"To ask Felicitas if there is no writing, no evidence ofemancipation"----but the young husband stopped him.
"No, no! She must know nothing about it. The poor, tender, helpless,happy child! It would crush her--this horrid plot!"
"How wilt thou prevent her knowing it, when it will to-morrow becarried out? For I do not doubt it is all correct what the usurer saysof the tax-dues and of his purchase of the property. And that is notthe worst. Thou canst fly, as so many thousand debtors have already, tothe mountains, to the forests, to the barbarians, for aught I care.Leave him here the heap of stones."
"The house of my parents! the place where we have been so happy!"
"You can be happy elsewhere, when you come together again. ButFelicitas with the infant--she cannot yet share thy flight. She muststay, and _can_ stay with me. And that, I hope, can be arranged; for Ihave no doubt about the emancipation. The old people did not fabricateit. It is only the evidence that we want--the evidence!"
"The letter of emancipation is burnt; that is certain; burnt with thefew ornaments and savings of the parents. They often told us about it.They had put all their valuables in a little box of cedar-wood, underthe cushions of the bed, in their own room. In the night that thedespairing tax-debtors and the peasants, the beasts of burden of thegreat landlords, had broken out in riot, the old people had, with thechild, hastened into the street to inquire the cause of the fearfulnoise. They ran forward to the corner of the Vulcan market. Anothercrowd of fighting peasants and soldiers then poured in from behind,cutting off their return. The wooden storehouses of the small tradesmenthat lived there, were set on fire. It was two days before they couldreturn to their house, and then it was almost entirely burnt out; underthe half-carbonised cushions of the bed, they found two melted goldpieces and the iron mounting of the cedar-box, yet glowing, and roundabout ashes:--from the wood of the box and its contents."
"The writing was not to be found?"
"In the house of her parents, certainly not; we searched it thoroughlybefore we sold it, after the death of the old people."
"Among the records of the Curies?"
"The freedom was given by letter, not by will. Krates intended to leavea will, but was overtaken by death before he had carried out hisintention."
"Witnesses?"
"There were none. I tell you the freedom was given by letter."
"There is, then, no evidence. It is fearful."
"It makes one despair."
"But what thoughtlessness to live long years without"----
"Long years? It is not yet one year that I have called her mine.Before that it was the care of the parents; but these good oldpeople--strangers here--what could they do? They could not awake thedead master, that he might repeat the emancipation."
"Had no one else read the letter?"
"Possibly! But these could only witness that they had read it, not thatit was genuine."
"I see no escape but in flight--hasty flight."
"Hasty flight with the infant, and the young mother hardlyconvalescent, is impossible. And to fly! it is not my custom. Ratherresistance by force."
"Thou, and I, and the lame Philemon, the force against the lancers ofthe Tribune! For he stands behind."
"I believe it! I saw his passionate look rest on her--on her neck--Icould throttle him!"
"You are a dead man before you raise a hand against him."
"It is dark, hopeless night around us. Oh, where shall we find counsel,where a beam of hope, of light?"
"In the Church," spoke softly, but decidedly, a sweet voice. Felicitasput her arm round the neck of her beloved.
"Thou!"
"Thou here?"
"Yes, as thou didst not come back, I sought for thee; it is always sobetween us. The boy sleeps; I laid him in my bed. I found you both sodeep in conversation, that you did not hear my step on the soft gardensand."
"What hast thou heard?" cried Fulvius, full of fear.
But the radiant, cheerful face, the smooth brow, the happy smile of hisyoung wife, soon quieted his anxiety.
"I only heard that you wanted light in the darkness, and there cameinto my mind, as always, the word 'Church,' the name 'Johannes.'"
Fulvius was satisfied, almost joyful, because she had heard nothing ofthe lurking misfortune. He stroked tenderly her beautifully archedhead, and said:
"And yet thou art not one of those devotees whose piety, or ratherhypocrisy, peeps through the knees of their garments, worn threadbareby the altar steps."
"No; I am, alas, not pious enough. But it does not help me if I do gooften to confession. Johannes always smiles when I have finished, andsays: 'Thou hast only _one_ sin; that is, Falvius.' But when I hear ofdarkness and light, I always think of the Church and Johannes. It is anexperience of my earliest childhood," said she slowly, reflectively.
"What experience?" asked Crispus, becoming attentive.
"I had been obliged for many weeks, on account of a disease in theeyes, to wear a bandage, to remain in darkness, I know not how long. Iwas hardly six years old. I then heard the voice of Krates, the master,who was skilful in medicine, and had himself treated me. 'Take her withyou this evening into the Basilica,' said he, 'it will not hurt hereyes; and she must be there, so says the law.'"
"What sayest thou? For what purpose?" asked the two men in breathlesseagerness.
"I know not. You forget I was a child. But this stands yet clear beforeme: In the evening father and mother took me between them, each holdingone of my hands; the master was also there; and they led me withbandaged eyes--for the raw evening air of the late autumn might havehurt them--into the Basilica. Here they took off the bandage and"----
"And now?"
"What didst thou see? What happened?"
"For the first time for months without pain, did my eyes again see thebright but gentle light. Before the altar, which was lighted with manywax candles, stood Johannes in shining white garments; the masterplaced us all three at the lowest step of the altar, and then spoke anumber of words that I did not understand: the priest blessed us; myparents wept--but I noticed it was from emotion, not from pain--andkissed their master's knees; they then again put the bandage on myeyes, and we went from the light of the church out into the darkness.Since then light and Church and Johannes are to me one."
Felicitas could not quite understand what now happened to her.
Her husband warmly kissed her brow and eyes, and her uncle almostcrushed her hand.
"Go thou back to the house," cried at last her husband. "We must goimmediately to the church; thou art right--as always. Thou--thou hastgiven to us the best, the saving counsel."
And he led her eagerly, with a last kiss, back into the garden.
"It is quite certain," said Crispus, when Fulvius again appeared, "thatit was not only by letter that they were set free; for greater safetythere was the ceremony in the church, before the priest, according toall the forms of the law. And the child has all unsuspiciously revealedit to us in our greatest need!"
"And the priest"----
"Was Johannes himself!"
"He yet lives. Thanks be to the holy ones! He can testify to it."
"And he shall: before this night! Before witnesses, before the Curiesshall he verify it! To the church!"
"To Johannes!"
And the two men hastened as fast as feet could carry them, down thehigh-road to the town, towards the Porta Vindelica.
In the meanwhile Felicitas went slowly back to the house, oftenstopping to look back at her husband until he had disappeared fromview.
"What may they be doing?" said she quietly, bending her beautiful head."Well, they are good: the holy ones are with them. The sun is now setbehind Vindelicia. But in the forest the sweet bird still sings hisevening song: how peaceful! how quiet! I will go to the bed of mylittle one. I can wait the
re most calmly; Fulvius will come back beforenight. For he loves us--yes, he loves us much, my little son!"
She then entered the house.