III.
PARTING.
The ensuing days were pregnant with rumour and action. The waves ofterror and despair that lashed over the city, as blow after blow fell,had now receded. The white banner, that was always lowered at theapproach of an enemy, still spread its undulating folds aboveJaniculum; the crops and fruit trees and vines smiled upon thehillsides; the flocks and herds browsed peacefully along the Campagnawith never a Numidian pillager to disturb their serenity; and, amidall, there was no rumour of allied gates opened to receive the invader,no welcome from the Italians whom he had striven to conciliate.Courage returned, and with courage firmness, and with firmnessconfidence to endure and dare and do, so long as invaders presumed toset foot upon the heritage of Rome.
How far this new confidence was born of the news that the Carthaginianwas turning aside to the west, through Umbria and Picenum, how far bythe rumour that Spoletum had closed her gates and repulsed hisvanguard, or how far by wrath at the tales of ravage and the numberlessmurders of Roman citizens that marked his line of march, it would bedifficult to apportion.
However these, the city was now seething with energetic preparation.The Senate sat daily and into each night. No word of peace wasuttered--all was war and revenge. Quintus Fabius Maximus was electedpro-dictator by a vote of the Comitia--not dictator, because that couldonly be done through appointment by the surviving consul, then absentin Gaul--or none knew where. By the same power, and in order toappease the commons irritated by criticisms of Flaminius, MarcusMinutius Rufus was elected master of the horse. Nor were the godsneglected. Their stimulating influence was invoked by the dictator toinspire the people with confidence, while he soothed them with theintimation that Flaminius had failed rather through overcourage andneglect of divine things than through mere plebeian temerity andignorance. Fabius took care to impress it upon all that he himselfwould take full warning from the lesson. He moved that the Sibyllinebooks should be consulted, and the Senate promptly acted upon themotion. These directed that a holy spring be proclaimed forthwith;that every animal fit for sacrifice, and born between the Kalends ofMarch and May throughout all Italy, should be offered to Jupiter.Votive games were decided upon, couches were set by the judges, whereonthe twelve gods should feast in splendour, temples were vowed, to VenusErycina by the dictator himself, to Mens by Titus Otacilius, thepraetor.
But with all, and, as Fabius put it, that the immortal gods should notbe overburdened with the petty affairs of mortals, every care thathuman prudence and warcraft could suggest was taken. Walls and towerswere strengthened, and bridges were broken down; the inhabitants ofopen towns were driven into places of security, and their houses andcrops destroyed. Amid all, the rumour came that Servilius washastening back from Gaul; then, that he was close at hand, and,finally, Fabius set out to meet him, sending orders in advance that theconsul should come without lictors, so that the dignity of thedictatorship might stand high before the people. And when Serviliushad come, in all respects as commanded, then he, the consul, afterfirst delivering up his legions which he had left at Ariminum, wasordered to Ostia and the fleet to keep watch and ward over the Italiancoast and to protect the corn ships. So all the armies of the Republicwent to the pro-dictator, together with authority to raise such more ashe should consider needful; two new legions in the place of those deadon the shores of Trasimenus, and some thousands of poorer citizens fromthe tribes, to man the quinqueremes of Servilius and the walls of Rome.
Amid these days of bustle and preparation, Sergius had found littledifficulty in keeping his footsteps from Marcia's threshold. After thefirst grief of the conviction that she did not love him, pride came tohis rescue. Should he, the head of the noblest house of the nobleSergian gens, should he abase himself and submit to scornful words evenfrom a daughter of Torquatus? or, yet, should he, as a man, desire tobear the torch before an unwilling bride? These were simple questions,and there was but one word that could answer them; so Sergius struggledto put Marcia from his heart, until he flattered himself that thedifficult task had at last been accomplished.
During this internal struggle, there came, also, to help him, word thathe had been named as one of the military tribunes in the new FourthLegion, and, his wound being now almost well, he threw himself headlonginto the work of the levy and of exercising his men, striving to bringthem to such a degree of efficiency as might win honour for himself andadvantage to the Republic. Now and again twinges of the old heart-painwould rack him, but he obstinately attributed all depression andmelancholy to the inferior quality, both physically and socially, ofmany of the new levies, and to his misgivings as to the account theywould render of themselves when confronted by the veterans of Hannibal.
At last the day of marching arrived, and with it the greatest struggleof all. Suddenly a suspicion awoke within him, whispering that thetask he had set for himself was but poorly done; that the image ofMarcia still smiled unbanished above the altar of his heart; and, withall his pride and strength, this suspicion of his weakness was, oddlyenough, a source of positive exultation. Caius had been with himthrough much of his work, for Caius served in the same legion. It wasevident, however, that the young man had received strict orders on onesubject; for, in all their talks, the name of Marcia never passed hislips. This was unlike Caius, who was thought by many to be given toovermuch speaking, and, for that reason, it irritated Sergius the more,who would sooner have cut away his hand than questioned his friendconcerning his sister. Thus the two men, illogically but humanlyenough, continued to grow apart, until, with never a thought but offriendliness, their intercourse became limited, through sheerembarrassment, to the commonplaces of fellow-soldiers who held lightacquaintance with each other's names and faces.
As the hour drew near, the city bubbled with excitement, and the altarsof the gods reeked with unnumbered victims. Especially invoked wereCastor, Fortune, Liberty, and Hope, but, above all, the mighty trinityof the Capitol. Lest the pang of so great a parting with men who wereabout to encounter such grave dangers might sap the courage of thoseremaining, and thence that of the new levies, the dictator had wiselydecreed that the army should assemble at Tibur. So it happened thatthere was none to go now save himself and a small escort of cavalry,five turmae, at the head of which was Sergius. With these went Rome'slast hope: the cast behind which lay only ruin, but for the avertingfavour of the gods.
At midday the fasces would be carried forth, and it lacked but an hourof the time. Sergius had prepared everything; his men were ready tomount at the blast of the trumpet, and his household was set in orderagainst the absence of its master. He was standing within the ViminalGate, while an attendant held his horse close by and a little apartfrom the crowds of weeping women who surrounded the soldiers of thedictator's escort. Suddenly he felt some one pluck him by the cloak,and turned quickly to see a young woman in the single tunic of a slave.Her dress, however, was of finer texture than that worn by most of herclass, and seemed to bespeak a rich mistress and especial favour. Shestood with her finger to her lips, her eyes great with the importanceof her mission.
"My mistress, the Lady Marcia, orders that you come and bid herfarewell," she whispered hurriedly.
Then she darted away among the crowd, before the young tribune couldmake answer to an invitation so oddly worded.
His first impulse was to show the Lady Marcia that he was not to bedismissed and sent for--much less ordered back at the caprice of agirl. His next was to humour the whim of a child, and his third was toobey humbly and thankfully, without a thought but of Marcia's beautyand his own good fortune.
A word to his slave and another to his horse, whereat the former loosedthe bridle, and the latter knelt for his master. Then came a wildgallop across the crest of the Viminal Hill, through the ill-omenedstreet where the wicked Tullia had driven over her father's corpse,into the Forum, and out up the New Way to the house of Torquatus.
Throwing his rein to the porter, Sergius entered the court of theatrium, vacant and reso
unding to the hurried tread of his cothurni.Pausing for a moment and hesitating to penetrate farther into thehouse, he became aware that the porter had followed him. Like most ofhis class, he was a man considerably past middle life, and thusconsidered suited to the comparative ease and responsibility of hisposition. With a freedom and garrulity born of long service, hebegan:--
"It was a word I was commanded to deliver to the most noble Sergius,and I doubt not it would have been well and truly delivered, but forhis springing from his horse so quickly and rushing past me. It ispossible that I might have come to him sooner had he not left me totake care of the animal, and it needed time to summon the groom, whoseduty such work is. Therefore--"
"By Hercules, man, give me the message! Do you think I can listen allday to your gabbling?" cried the soldier, furious with impatience.
A faint laugh seemed to come from somewhere beyond the hallway.
"I was about to say, most noble lord," pursued the porter, hardlyruffled by the outburst; "and I trust you will pardon me if I dalliedover-much; but--"
Sergius raised his hand. Then, thinking better of the blow, he seizedthe man by the throat.
"Perhaps I can shake the words out like dice from a box. Now for theVenus cast!" he cried, suiting the action to the speech.
"Are you making trial of your strength that you may break more readilyinto Carthaginian houses? Remember it is soldiers with whom you are tocontend."
Sergius turned quickly, to see Marcia herself standing at the entranceto the hall. In her eyes, on her lips, was malicious laughter; but alittle red spot on either cheek seemed to tell of some stronger feelingbehind. He had released the porter so quickly that the latterstaggered back almost into the fountain, and Marcia smiled.
"I think I have been taking a great deal of trouble for the sake of avery discourteous person," she said. "I sent Minutia to tell a certainsoldier that I am willing to bid him farewell, despite hisunworthiness, and he comes and nearly strangles poor old Rhetus fortrying to say that I was awaiting him in the peristyle."
"Rhetus' attempt was not very successful, and my time was short," saidSergius, growing alternately red and pale.
"And so you thought to hasten his speech by closing his throat? Oh!you are a wise man--a very logical man. They should have made _you_dictator, so that you could save Italy by surrendering Rome."
"Is it to say such things that you sent for me?" asked Sergius, after apause during which he struggled against embarrassment and wrath.
"Surely not, for how could I know that you were going to behave sooutrageously? If you will follow me, we will go into the peristyle."
She turned back through the passage, and Sergius followed, issuing amoment later into a large, cloister-like court, open in the middle, anddecorated with flowers and shrubs. Four rows of columns, half plain,half fluted, supported the shed roof that protected the frescoes.These covered three of the walls. On the back was a garden scene sopainted as to seem like a continuation of the court itself into the fardistance; on the right was the combat between Aeneas and Turnus, and onthe left a representation of the first Torquatus despoiling the slainGaul of the trophy from which the family took its name.
"And now I will tell you why I sent."
She had seated herself in a marble chair with wolf heads carved on thearms, and her face had grown grave and thoughtful.
"It was to tell you a dream--a dream of you that I had last night."
Her cheek flushed, and Sergius' eyes sparkled.
"You dreamt of _me_?" he said in a low voice. He half raised his armsand came nearer; but she held up one hand in the old imperious manner.
"If you please, I have not sent for you that you should growpresumptuous, because I was unmaidenly enough to dream of so badlybehaved a person as yourself. It--it was because it--I thought youshould know, so that the omen might be expiated."
Sergius had halted and was standing still. His lip curled slightly.
"I dreamt," she went on, after a short pause, "that there was a wideplain with mountains about it and a river running through; and it wasall heaped up with dead men--thousands upon thousands--stripped of armsand clothing, and the air was gray with vultures, and the wolves andfoxes were calling to each other back among the hills. And I was verysad and walked daintily so that my sandals and gown might not besplashed with the blood that curdled in pools all about. Suddenly Icame to a heap of slain whereon _you_ were lying, with a long javelinthrough your body. So I screamed and awoke--"
"Surely, then, you felt sorrow," cried Sergius, who had followed thenarrative with deep interest, but who seemed to consider nothing of itsave the concern she had shown at his death.
"I--I," she began; and then, as if angry with herself at the betrayalof feeling and of her embarrassment, she burst out; "I did not send,foolish one, that you should consider _me_. Look rather to yourself."
But Sergius was full of the joy of his own thoughts.
"That I shall do, my Marcia, by setting my mind upon things that arebetter than myself--the Republic--you--"
"Ah, but the omen?"
"I shall put it aside together with the other: that you have called meback from the march; and I shall consider both well expiated by theknowledge that I am not as nothing to you."
Her face grew pale, and she half rose from the chair.
"Truly, I did not think about calling you back. It is terrible--allthis--and it is my doing--"
"Then, if you wish, I shall lay it up against you," cried he, gayly,"unless you promise to be Caia in my house--"
"You are unfair to press me now and by such means."
"But it must be now," exclaimed the young man, springing forward andtrying to catch her in his arms. "Do you not see I must leave you atonce? Shall it be without a promise?"
The blush had turned again to little anger spots, as she evaded him.
"Very well," she said slowly. "I will be Caia where thou art Caius--"
Sergius' face shone with exultation, and his lips parted.
"I will be Caia," she resumed, "upon the day when Orcus sends back thedead from Acheron."
His expression of joy faded, and indignation took its place. Surelythis was carrying light speech too far--and at such a time. Suddenlyhe realized that the dictator might already have ridden on, anddisgrace have fallen upon a Sergius at the very beginning of thecampaign.
"So be it! I accept that omen--with the others," he cried sternly,and, turning, strode out through the atrium, bounded upon his horse,and dashed headlong down the street, before Marcia was fairly awarethat he had gone from her presence.
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