Amidst the laughter and the babel of voices, Carnion's quick ear caughtthe magic word--Lion!
Turning round into his former place, "Is there a lion coming at last,my father?" he asked eagerly, while his dark eyes sparkled with emotion.
"Yes, my son."
"I am very sorry that Tharsos has gone," remarked the boy, looking atthe vomitory (opening) of the staircase.
"He had, he was--rather, he preferred to go; perhaps it is better,"said Titanus with a troubled absent look.
"What kind of lion is coming father?" enquired Carnion, his chiefinterest being in that direction.
"A great lion from Libya, my son, a beast fierce and hungry."
"And with what beasts is it going to fight? Will they be wild-boars,or bears, or tigers, or elephants? How I should love to see a bigbattle among them all! Tell me, father, what are the beasts to be."And the beautiful boy fairly shook with excitement.
The father did not speak for a moment. His brows lowered over largebrown eyes, a crimson wave of shame and anger swept over his handsomeface, followed by a subduing wave of pity, and then he spoke in a tonethat surprised the ardent boy.
"Carnion," said he, "there is little likelihood that the lion will haveanything to fight with."
"Why not, father?" asked the boy, feeling quite disappointed. "Will itonly go round the arena and roar?"
"Were that all, my son, I should be exceedingly glad."
The boy was perplexed:--"What dost thou mean, father?"
"I mean, my son, that the lion is to find its prey in the form of adefenceless virtuous woman!"
The boy was amazed and his eyes were piercing. "My father," said hetremulously, "is it the lady Tharsos spoke of?"
"Yes, Carnion."
"Oh father, how cruel!" exclaimed the boy in great distress. "Willnobody fight for her and save her?"
"If any man be found bold enough to face the most formidable brute thatever sprang into the arena--that, and that only may save her," answeredTitanus. "But the conditions are hard, so hard that I may say the caseis well-nigh hopeless, and the man that would undertake it would eitherbe a fool, impelled by inordinate greed, or filled with god-likeself-sacrifice. Neither shield, nor spear, nor sword--nothing but abronze dagger is to be allowed her defender, should one come forward,and he is to be naked but for a slight girdle around his loins."
"Is there no man compelled to fight, oh father?"
"No one, my son. The defence is voluntary. Both Demonicus andTelassar volunteered; the former is dead, and I fear the latter willback out. Who else would venture, I know not."
"Father," said the boy, in a trembling tone, yet with a ring of purposein it, "wilt thou permit my absence for a little time?"
"Certainly, my son: it was in my mouth to bid thee look into the streetfor a little time; or if thy desire be to speak a word with mother thoumayest, but tell my name to the _designator_ (seat-attendant).'Titanus' is enough."
Carnion disappeared.
CHAPTER VIII.
WAITING FOR THE VICTIM.
On the departure of Tharsos, Myrtis had turned and said--
"Thy brother's signal, as thou hast told me, Coryna. Come! let us go."
"It is, but--not yet, dear Myrtis," was the answer in a voice of gentlefirmness.
"And in the face of thy brother's strong desire thou art waiting towitness the foul torture and death of a lady refined and good--ourfellow-countrywoman too!"
"I shall not behold that," replied the maiden with earnest, hopefullight in her dark hazel eyes: "some brave man will appear; but if not,then I shall turn my back or fly when"--She dared not finish, andMyrtis added--
"When the lion springs. Oh! my Coryna, let us go. This is the work ofdemons."
"I cannot, Myrtis, I cannot. I shall know the end sooner here."
"There can be but one end, my dear. The cruel crafty managers, bribedto get rid of the maiden without more delay, as Tharsos informed thee,planned this well. What man with a mere dagger could slay a lion? Anaked man too. Coryna, the whole work is contemptible, contemptible!"And the deep blue eyes of Myrtis flashed forth her scorn, as she lookeddown into the arena and scanned it swiftly round till her attentionrested anxiously at the eastern end.
"The Romans love effect," Coryna answered bitterly, as sheunconsciously twisted her long gold necklace around her thumb,--"Thesolitary fight will be a striking contrast to the battle that has been."
"There will be no fight, my dear. Who would take such a risk for awoman, a Christian too? But I shall wait with thee, Coryna, and get aglimpse of the poor maiden, and let us hope that her God will help her."
Coryna did not speak, but her expressive face told her gratitude andhope.
The conversation was stopped by the loud blast of trumpets, indicatingthat another awful act was to begin; and the great hum of voicesceased. The sand was clear of everything, as if a bare, vast, ovaltable, and all faces were turned toward the eastern extremity of thearena, morbidly hungering for more scenes of skill and blood.
CHAPTER IX.
IN THE ARENA.
Pathema was taken from prison, where she had been shut up for a longtime; and the officer in charge was about to open a small door into thearena to lead her in, when a dark-haired boy, the son of illustriousparents, came forward with tears streaming down his noble face, andpresented her with a cluster of white lilies. Accepting the flowersspeechlessly but gracefully, the doomed maiden bent down with a fullheart and kissed him. The lilies reminded her of Him who was madeperfect through suffering, and they gave her renewed strength.
"Thy name, my darling?"
"Carnion," was the answer, broken and low.
Stooping down, Pathema put a gentle trembling arm around the boy andkissing him again, she said--
"My lovely one, God bless thee!"
The guard in uniform opened the door and led the innocent victim intothe great arena.
"The maiden comes: see, yonder," said Coryna, looking intently towardsher.
Myrtis spoke not, but strained her eyes to see.
The Christian maiden approached slowly in charge of the guard till shewas placed in front of the pavilion where sat the emperor, clothed in apurple robe and on his head a laurel crown. Leaving her there, theguard withdrew without delay that the keeper might unbar a heavy irongate for the wild beast to enter in and devour.
Pathema stood alone, a graceful form in flowing garments, within thosespacious walls. Clothed in mockery in the white robe of a vestalvirgin, yet she was a chaste virgin of Jesus Christ. Bound with awhite fillet, her rich black hair, of lavish length, lay back inglistening waves. Her soft dark eyes were modestly towards the ground;once only were they raised, and then to a purer region than earth. Herface was pale and worn but eminently beautiful, with the light ofheaven on her thoughtful brow. All around, thousands upon thousands ofhuman eyes, gazing with inhumane curiosity, were an abashing anddisturbing sight themselves. But with the solitary object of theirgaze, the flow of mental energy was smoothly but strongly andconsumingly in the channel of the spiritual emotions. The hiddenstruggle with conflicting streams of feeling was all gone through inthe bitterness and supplications of the dungeon. The agony was past,and Pathema was resigned.
"That sad sweet countenance entrances me," said Myrtis, deeply moved."Oh Coryna, I go, and yet I cannot! Whence that light and peace?"
Coryna replied not, for she could not. But from among the _pullati_ orpoor people, immediately below, an answer of a kind came. It was inthe subdued voice of a shepherd from the mountains of Lycia. Oresteshad nimbly escaped while Pathema was being removed from the prison notlong before; but at the risk of recapture he had entered theamphitheatre, determined, like Peter, to see the end, not out ofcuriosity but of Christian love, hoping against hope. He sat at theend of a seat near one of the _vomitoria_ or doors of entrance from theinternal lobbies in the shell of the building. Although his garb wassoiled and worn, his face was thoughtful, humane and resolute, like
therugged rocks of Taurus. His remarks were not intended for other ears,but were the half-audible, broken sentences of an intense mind.
"Listen!" said Coryna, recovering herself, "he speaks in our owntongue; and they heard such expressions as--
"The peace of God, which passeth all understanding.Enduring--enduring! Life is but a fleeting breath at best.Corrupt--corrupt! Is not this foul spectacle around her the proof?She would not live for a human name--worthless from the low-viewedmultitude--nor for pleasure, nor for mere living, at the price ofloyalty to Christ. Yet she would live--live that she might humbly aidthese people to rise up from the pit of the sensual savage mind--intothe light, the glorious light. But she is rejected and despised. Likeher Master, she must be sacrificed--in cruelty and shame. If it bepossible, let this cup pass from her, I beseech Thee, O God!"
Pathema knew not that in the vast multitude above there was one--herfellow-countryman and co-worker, the humble shepherd of mountTaurus--pleading for her life with all the intensity of agonising pity.To her, mercy was a stranger within those living walls, yet with meeklybended head in steadfast trust she stood, bearing her awful cross inthe footprints of the Nazarene.
CHAPTER X.
THE LION.
The great iron gate was opened up. Into the arena proudly leaped aglowing-eyed gigantic brute, with tawny coat and heavy mane, the hungryking of the forest.
All eyes were directed towards him, but Pathema moved not.
"Now may her God help her!" exclaimed Myrtis, bending her head andburying her face in her hands; but unable to bear the strain, she roseup and left, leaving her companion absorbed and pained, and her husbanddown on the _podium_, transfixed yet ashamed.
No wild-beast fighter having appeared--no one to gratify the cravingfor excitement--a great hum of disappointment soon ascended and rolledround the amphitheatre.
The lion raised his massive head as if in defiance, and uttered amighty, vibrant roar.
The hum of voices stopped.
Pathema's heart trembled in the balance, as a topmast twig before thefirst breath of darkening storm. The mere finite fabric would surelyhave given way. But if the tremor lasted in varying degree, hesitationhad perched for a moment only. Prolonged habit, woven in as metalcord, called forth the virtue told in the oft-read words--"What time Iam afraid, I will trust in thee." Strengthened from above, she calmlyturned her head and, as if also in defiance, fixed her eyes full uponthe distant savage brute.
The hungry lion saw the human form--ah! this was strange choice game.He trod forward with swaying tail--he crept--he crouched low--he wouldsoon spring--and that fair image of the divine would be struck down,torn asunder, bled and crunched in pieces!
Was there no eye to pity, none to save?
"Oh that I were a soldier, a gladiator,--no, just a man, a man!" saidCoryna from the depth of a throbbing heart, "then would I rush to therescue and save her or die!"
The shepherd could not stand the sight, and as he rose to go away hisface was ghastly white. As he turned with vacant eyes to walk up the_scalaria_ or steps to the door in the _balteus_ or wall behind, avoice at his elbow said in the Greek language--
"Here! take this true dagger, friend."
"Why?" replied the shepherd, looking bewildered.
"Dost thou not know the terms?" answered the Greek.
"I am a stranger. What terms?" Orestes asked eagerly.
"Oh, I thought thou hadst resolved to go to the woman's aid," repliedthe man, disappointed.
"Give me the dagger," said the shepherd, a red flush rushing into hischeek. He had now grasped the situation at a glance, and seizing theweapon without ceremony or further word, he sprang up three or foursteps and passed through the vomitory of the wall to the stairs leadingdown to the lower part of the building.
Coryna heard and saw with joy, but with the racking pain of suspense,for the shepherd might be--(she dared not think it) would likelybe--too late!
There was a brief, awful lull.
The lion would not leap while those calm heavenly eyes shone full uponhim, and he would not as long as they retained strength. But ifPathema's head would bow down or turn aside, or if her vital forcewould go, and it could not last long, there would then be the sure andfatal spring.
During this critical pause, Carnion returned. He gave ahalf-expectant, eager glance down into the arena. Had there been amere wild-beast battle--had the lion been face to face with an Indiantiger, the sight to the boy would naturally have been grand; but now itwas perplexing and sore. He saw his thread-like hope of rescuebroken--the monster glared upon a frail beautiful woman, and, as yet,there was no man. Turning aside, he bent his head on the back of theyoung officer's empty chair, and hid his tearful eyes, saying tohimself despairingly--
"Will no brave man come, before it is too late?"
CHAPTER XI.
THE MAN WITH THE DAGGER.
Another door opened up with a sudden bang, and behold! a fair-hairedyouth, almost naked, and armed with a simple dagger, stepped boldlyinto the arena. A great shout went up from the spectators, as, withoutthe least delay, he ran forward and stood between the lion and itsintended victim.
Coryna gave the would-be deliverer one bewildered, piercing glance,then instantly lowering her head she hid a face of death-like whitenessin hands clammy with a cold perspiration.
"Father, father, dost thou not know him?" cried Carnion, startled upwith the bang and the shout, and quivering with mingled grief and joy.
Titanus, never without a feeble ray of hope, was yet thunderstruck whenthe combatant's identity dawned upon him; and though filled withadmiration, he was visibly troubled.
The brave youth below stood erect and resolute, while the beast,disconcerted with the shout and the sudden check, rested back flat uponits limbs and belly. Like David of old when facing the giant, theyoung man came forward trusting in the God of Israel.
"Who is that courageous but foolhardy venturer?" enquired the emperor.
"Tharsos, of the praetorian guard, O sovereign."
"One of my noblest and wealthiest officers!" exclaimed the emperor;"yet let him go--he tends towards the detested Christians," added hehaughtily.
Servilius, the pagan confidant of the emperor, but the enemy ofTharsos, was secretly delighted. "We shall soon get rid of him, andEmerentia will be mine," said he to himself, as he leaned over to takea satisfied, last look at the self-sacrificing nobleman below.
Pathema was struck with amazement, but inexpressibly grieved to thinkthat the fair form of her defender would be speedily felled to theearth, and mangled, and devoured!
Tharsos did not stand on the defensive: he took the first step tobattle; and the people gave a deafening shout of approval. He movedtowards the formidable lion with slow but firm tread. The mysteriouslight of the steadfast human eye was unbearable--the suspicious beastrose up and skulked away, with trailing tail and with head turnedpartly round to keep watch upon its enemy. Tharsos held on steadily,purposing that if death should happen to him, it would be as far awayas possible from the eyes of the sore-tried, desolate maiden.
When near the side of the arena right opposite the emperor, the lionhowled with fear and sprang ten feet up towards the balcony, itseye-balls gleaming just a short space below Titanus and his eager boy.
Rising up quickly, Titanus placed his hand upon the hilt of his sword.Fain would he have leapt down to the aid of his beloved friend. Theireyes met for a moment; and, though pale and grave, Tharsos smiled.
Baffled in its leap, the brute turned sharply round, face to face withits determined pursuer, and uttered a terrific roar of rage. The issuewould soon be decided, and the immense concourse of people held theirbreath, while Pathema turned away her head and offered up a silentprayer to Him who has power over the beast of the field.
Tharsos now drew slowly back, while keeping his eyes towards theenraged lion. Suddenly withdrawing his gaze, he turned and ran withswift and bounding steps straight for the eastern extremity of thea
rena, while the surprised spectators yelled their contempt after him.Then the man strangely swayed and tottered in front of the very doorwhere the calm resolute woman had entered but a few minutes before.
"He plays the coward, he faints, curse him!" was heard on every hand,as they saw him finally throw up his arms and fall.
"The charge is false, false!" exclaimed an erect, indignant figure witha pale face up among the women. It was the voice of Coryna, but amidstthe clamour she was not heard except by those immediately around her.
"Hear ye the madwoman!" cried they, as they scoffed and laughed.
The emperor, disappointed and even ashamed, sat in scornful silence.But Servilius, excited with malignant pleasure, laughed outright.
Then Titanus rose up and drew his glitter-sword. He stepped to thevery edge of the balcony, Carnion at his side, and the eyes of thepeople catching sight of him, the loud storm of abuse instantly ceased.
"Too late, too late, and out of order!" Servilius fiercely cried,fearing the rescue of the man he unjustly hated.
"He who calls my friend Tharsos a coward!" exclaimed Titanus in clearringing voice, "shall die. I challenge him to meet me next on the sandof that arena!"
And Coryna was unspeakably relieved.
But no man would wantonly accept the challenge, for Titanus was agileand strong, and was one of the most expert swordsmen in the Roman army.
There was, however, much excitement over this bold interruption and atthe announcement of the name of the prostrate man, whose high rank waswidely known.
The Mother of St. Nicholas: A Story of Duty and Peril Page 3