Chapter X
Mamercus Guards the Door
I
Agias left Phaon in the clutches of the landlord and his subordinatesand was reasonably certain that since the freedman had not a farthingleft with which to bribe his keepers, he was out of harm's way for thetime being. The moon was risen, and guided by its light the youngslave flew on toward Praeneste without incident. Whatever part of theconspirator's plans depended on Phaon was sure to collapse. For therest, Agias could only warn Drusus, and have the latter arm hisclients and slaves, and call in his friends from the town. With suchprecautions Dumnorix could hardly venture to risk himself and his men,whatever might be the plot.
Thus satisfied in mind, Agias arrived at the estate of the Drusi,close to Praeneste, and demanded admittance, about two hours beforemidnight. He had some difficulty in stirring up the porter, and whenthat worthy at last condescended to unbar the front door, the youngGreek was surprised and dismayed to hear that the master of the househad gone to visit a farm at Lanuvium, a town some fifteen miles to thesouth. Agias was thunderstruck; he had not counted on Drusus beingabsent temporarily. But perhaps his very absence would cause the plotto fail.
"And what time will he return?" asked Agias.
"What time?" replied the porter, with a sudden gleam of intelligencedarting up in his lack-lustre eyes. "We expect he will return earlyto-morrow morning. But the road from Lanuvium is across country andyou have to skirt the Alban Mount. He may be rather late in arriving,drives he ever so hard."
"Hercules!" cried the agitated messenger. "My horse is blown, and Idon't know the road in the dark. Send, I pray you--by all the gods--toLanuvium this instant."
"Aye," drawled the porter, "And wherefore at such an hour?"
"It's for life and death!" expostulated Agias.
The porter, who was a thick-set, powerful man, with a bristly blackbeard, and a low forehead crowned by a heavy shock of dark hair, atthis instant thrust out a capacious paw, and seized Agias roughly bythe wrist.
"Ha, ha, ha, young cut-throat! I wondered how long this would last onyour part! Well, now I must take you to Falto, to get the beginning ofyour deserts."
"Are you mad, fellow?" bawled Agias, while the porter, grasping him bythe one hand, and the dim lamp by the other, dragged him into thehouse. "Do you know who I am? or what my business is? Do you want tohave your master murdered?"
"_Perpol!_ Not in the least. That's why I do as I do. Tell your storyto Falto. _Eho!_ What's that you've got under your cloak?" And hepounced upon a small dagger poor Agias had carried as a precautionagainst eventualities. "I imagine you are accustomed to use a littleknife like this." And the fellow gave a gleeful chuckle.
It was in vain that Agias expostulated and tried to explain. Theporter kept him fast as a prisoner, and in a few moments by his shoutshad aroused the whole sleeping household, and stewards, freedmen, andslaves came rushing into the atrium. Candelabra blazed forth. Torchestossed. Maids screamed. Many tongues were raised in discordant shoutand question. At last order was in some measure restored. Agias foundhimself before a tribunal composed of Falto, the subordinate_villicus_,[111] as chief judge, and two or three freedmen to act incapacity of assessors. All of this bench were hard, grey-headed,weazened agriculturists, who looked with no very lenient eye upon thedelicate and handsome young prisoner before them. Agias had to answera series of savagely propounded questions which led he knew notwhither, and which he was almost too bewildered to answerintelligently. The true state of the case only came over him bydegrees. These were the facts. Drusus had known that there was aconspiracy against his life, and had taken precautions againstpoisoning or being waylaid by a small band of cut-throats such as heimagined Ahenobarbus might have sent to despatch him. He had notexpected an attack on the scale of Dumnorix's whole band; and he hadseen no reason why, accompanied by the trusty Mamerci and Cappadox, heshould not visit his Lanuvian farm. The whole care of guarding againstconspirators had been left to Marcus Mamercus, and that worthyex-warrior had believed he had taken all needed precautions. He hadwarned the porter and the other slaves and freedmen to be on thelookout for suspicious characters, and had let just enough of theplot--as it was known to him--leak out, to put all the household onthe _qui vive_ to apprehend any would-be assassin of their belovedyoung master. But with that fatuity which often ruins the plans of"mice and men," he had failed to inform even his subordinate Falto ofthe likelihood of Agias arriving from Rome. It had obviously beendesirable that it should not be bruited among the servants thatCornelia and Drusus were still communicating, and when Agias was haledinto the atrium, his only identification was by some over-zealousslave, who declared that the prisoner belonged to the familia ofLentulus Crus, the bitter foe of their master.
[111] Farm steward.
With senses unduly alert the porter, as soon as he was aroused fromhis slumbers, had noticed that evening that Agias had come on someunusual business, and that he was obviously confused when he learnedthat Drusus was not at home. With his suspicions thus quickened, everyword the luckless Greek uttered went to incriminate him in the mind ofthe porter. Agias was certainly an accomplice in the plot againstDrusus, sent to the house at an unseasonable hour, on some darkerrand. The porter had freely protested this belief to Falto and hiscourt, and to support his indictment produced the captured dagger, thesure sign of a would-be murderer. Besides, a large sum of gold wasfound on Agias's person; his fast Numidian horse was still steamingbefore the door--and what honest slave could travel thus, with such aquantity of money?
Agias tried to tell his story, but to no effect; Falto and hisfellow-judges dryly remarked to one another that the prisoner wastrying to clear himself, by plausibly admitting the existence of theconspiracy, but of course suppressing the real details. Agiasreasoned. He was met with obstinate incredulity. He entreated, prayed,implored. The prejudiced rustics mocked at him, and hinted that theycared too much for their patron to believe any tale that such amanifest impostor might tell them. Pausanias, the Mamerci, andCappadox, the only persons, besides Drusus, who could readily identifyhim, were away at Lanuvium.
The verdict of guilty was so unanimous that it needed little or nodiscussion; and Falto pronounced sentence.
"Mago," to the huge African, "take this wretched boy to theslave-prison; fetter him heavily. On your life do not let him escape.Give him bread and water at sunrise. When Master Drusus returns hewill doubtless bid us crucify the villain, and in the morning Nattathe carpenter shall prepare two beams for the purpose."
Agias comforted himself by reflecting that things would hardly go tothat terrible extremity; but it was not reassuring to hear Ligus, thecrabbed old cellarer, urge that he be made to confess then and thereunder the cat. Falto overruled the proposition. "It was late, andMamercus was the man to extort confession." So Agias found himselfthrust into a filthy cell, lighted only by a small chink, near the topof the low stone wall, into which strayed a bit of moonlight. Thenight he passed wretchedly enough, on a truss of fetid straw; whilethe tight irons that confined him chafed his wrists and ankles.Needless to add, he cursed roundly all things human and heavenly,before he fell into a brief, troubled sleep. In the morning Mago, whoacted as jailer, brought him a pot of water and a saucer of uncookedwheat porridge;[112] and informed him, with a grin, that Natta wasmaking the beams ready. Agias contented himself by asking Mago to tellDrusus about him, as soon as the master returned. "You are very youngto wish to die," said the Libyan, grimly. Agias did not argue. Magoleft him. By climbing up a rude stool, Agias could peer through theloophole, which by great luck commanded a fairly ample view of thehighway. Drusus he naturally expected would come from the south,toward Praeneste. And thence every moment he trembled lest Dumnorix'sgang should appear in sight. But every distant dust-cloud for a longtime resolved itself sooner or later into a shepherd with a flock ofunruly sheep, or a wagon tugged by a pair of mules and containing asingle huge wine-skin. Drusus came not; Dumnorix came not. Agias grewweary of watching, and climbed painfully down fro
m the stool to eathis raw porridge. Hardly had he done so than a loud clatter of hoofssounded without. With a bound that twisted his confined ankles andwrists sadly, Agias was back at his post. A single rider on a handsomebay horse was coming up from the direction of Rome. As he drew near tothe villa, he pulled at his reins, and brought his steed down to awalk. The horseman passed close to the loophole, and there was nomistaking his identity. Agias had often seen that pale, pimpled face,and those long effeminate curls in company with Lucius Ahenobarbus.The rider was Publius Gabinius, and the young Greek did not need to betold that his coming boded no good to Drusus. Gabinius lookedcarefully at the villa, into the groves surrounding it, and then upand down the highway. Then he touched the spur to his mount, and wasgone.
[112] _Puls_, the primitive Italian food.
Agias wrung his manacled hands. Drusus would be murdered, Cornelia'shappiness undone, and he himself would become the slave of LuciusAhenobarbus, who, when he had heard Phaon's story, would show littleenough of mercy. He cursed the suspicious porter, cursed Falto, cursedevery slave and freedman on the estate, cursed Mamercus for notleaving some word about the possibility of his coming from Rome.Agias's imprecations spent themselves in air; and he was none thehappier. Would Drusus never come? The time was drifting on. The sunhad been up three or more hours. At any instant the gladiators mightarrive.
Then again there was a clatter of hoofs, at the very moment when Agiashad again remounted to the loophole. There were voices raised inquestions and greetings; slave-boys were scampering to and fro to takethe horses; Drusus with Pausanias and the Mamerci had returned fromLanuvium. Agias pressed his head out the loophole and screamed toattract attention. His voice could not penetrate the domestic hubbub.Drusus was standing shaking hands with a couple of clients andevidently in a very good humour over some blunt rustic compliment.Mago was nowhere to be seen. Agias glanced up the road towardPraeneste. The highway was straight and fairly level, but as it wentover a hill-slope some little way off, what was that he saw uponit?--the sun flashing on bright arms, which glinted out from thedust-cloud raised by a considerable number of men marching!
"Drusus! Master Drusus!" Agias threw all his soul into the cry. As ifto blast his last hope, Drusus hastily bowed away the salves and avesof the two clients, turned, and went into the villa. Agias groaned inagony. A very few moments would bring Dumnorix to the villa, and theyoung slave did not doubt that Gabinius was with the lanista to directthe attack. Agias tore at his chains, and cursed again, calling on allthe Furies of Tartarus to confound the porter and Falto. Suddenlybefore the loophole passed a slave damsel of winning face andblithesome manner, humming to herself a rude little ditty, while shebalanced a large earthen water-pot on her head. It was Chloe, whom thereader has met in the opening scene of this book, though Agias did notknow her name.
"By all the gods, girl!" he cried frantically, "do you want to haveyour master slaughtered before your very eyes?"
Chloe stopped, a little startled at this voice, almost from under herfeet.
"Oh, you, Master Assassin!" she sneered. "Do you want to repeat thosepretty stories of yours, such as I heard you tell last night?"
"Woman," cried Agias, with all the earnestness which agony and fearcould throw into face and voice, "go this instant! Tell Master Drususthat Dumnorix and his gang are not a furlong[113] away. They mean tomurder him. Say that I, Agias, say so, and he, at least, will believeme. You yourself can see the sun gleaming on their steel as they marchdown the hill."
[113] About 606-3/4 English feet.
Perhaps it was the sight which Agias indicated, perhaps it was hisearnest words, perhaps it was his handsome face--Chloe was verysusceptible to good looks--but for some cause she put down the pot andwas off, as fast as her light heels could carry her, toward the house.
II
Drusus had ridden hard to get back early from Lanuvium and write someletters to Cornelia, for he had expected that Agias would come on thatvery afternoon, on one of his regular, though private, visits; and hewished to be able to tell Cornelia that, so long a time had elapsedsince he had been warned against Ahenobarbus and Pratinas, and as noattempt at all had been made on his life, her fears for him wereprobably groundless and the plot had been for some cause abandoned.Drusus himself was weary, and was glad to shake off the little knot ofclients and retire to his chamber, preparatory for a bath and a changeof clothes. He had seen Falto, but the latter deemed it best not totrouble his patron at the time by mentioning the prisoner. Mago, too,concluded that it was best to defer executing his promise. Drusus wasjust letting Cappadox take off his cloak, when the shrill voice ofChloe was heard outside the door, expostulating with the boy on guard.
"I must see the dominus at once. It's very important."
"Don't you see, you idiot, that you can't while he's dressing?"
"I _must!_" screamed Chloe. And, violating every law of subordinationand decorum, she threw open the door.
Cappadox flew to eject her, but Chloe's quick tongue did its work.
"A lad who calls himself Agias is chained in the ergastulum. He sayssome gladiators are going to attack the house, and will be here in amoment! Oh, I am so frightened!" and the poor girl threw her mantleover her head, and began to whimper and sob.
"Agias!" shouted Drusus, at the top of his voice. "In the ergastulum?_Per deos immortales!_ What's this? Mamercus! Falto!"
And the young master rushed out of the room, Cappadox, who likelightning had caught up a sword, following him.
Falto came running from the stables; Mamercus from the garden. Drususfaced his two subordinates, and in an eye's twinkling had taken in thesituation. Mamercus, who felt within himself that he, by hisoversight, had been the chief blunderer, to vent his vexation smoteFalto so sound a cuff that the under villicus sprawled his fulllength.
"Go to the ergastulum and fetch Agias this instant," cried Drusus, inthundering accents, to the trembling Mago, who had appeared on thescene.
Mago disappeared like magic, but in an instant a din was rising fromthe front of the house,--cries, blows, clash of steel. Into theperistylium, where the angry young master was standing, rushed the oldslave woman, Lais.
"_Hei! hei!_" she screamed, "they are breaking in! Monsters! a hundredof them! They will kill us all!"
Drusus grew calm in an instant.
"Barricade the doors to the atrium!" he commanded, "while I can put onmy armour. You, Mamercus, are too old for this kind of work; run andcall in the field-hands, the clients, and the neighbours. Cappadox,Falto, and I can hold the doors till aid comes."
"I run?" cried the veteran, in hot incredulity, while with his singlehand he tore from its stout leather wall-fastenings a shield that hadbeen beaten with Punic swords at the Metaurus.[114] "I run?" herepeated, while a mighty crash told that the front door had given way,and the attackers were pouring into the atrium. And the veteran hadthrust a venerable helmet over his grizzled locks, and was wieldinghis shield with his handless left arm, while a good Spanishshort-sword gleamed in his right hand.
[114] The great battle won in 207 B.C. over Hasdrubal.
The others had not been idle. Cappadox had barred both doors leadinginto the front part of the house. Drusus had armed, and Falto,--a moreloyal soul than whom lived not,--burning to retrieve his blunder, hadsprung to his patron's side, also in shield and helm.
"They will soon force these doors," said Drusus, quietly, growing morecomposed as closer and closer came the actual danger. "Falto and Iwill guard the right. Cappadox and you, Mamercus, if you will stay,must guard the left. Some aid must come before a great while."
But again the veteran whipped out an angry oath, and thundered, "Youstay, you soft-fingered Quintus! You stay and face those Germangiants! Why, you are the very man they are after! Leave fighting to anold soldier! Take him away, Cappadox, if you love him!"
"I will never leave!" blazed forth Drusus. "My place is here. A Livianalways faces his foes. Here, if needs be, I will die." But before hecould protest further, Ca
ppadox had caught him in his powerful arms,and despite his struggles was running with him through the rear of thehouse.
Pandemonium reigned in the atrium. The gladiators were shivering finesculptures, ripping up upholstery, swearing in their uncouth Celtic orGerman dialects, searching everywhere for their victim in the roomsthat led off the atrium. A voice in Latin was raising loudremonstrance.
"_AEdepol!_ Dumnorix, call off your men! Phaon hasn't led our bird intothe net. We shall be ruined if this keeps on! Drusus isn't here!"
"By the Holy Oak, Gabinius," replied another voice, in barbarousLatin, "what I've begun I'll end! I'll find Drusus yet; and we won'tleave a soul living to testify against us! You men, break down thatdoor and let us into the rest of the house!"
Mamercus heard a rush down one of the passages leading to theperistylium. The house was almost entirely deserted, except by theshrieking maids. The clients and freedmen and male slaves were almostall in the fields. The veteran, Falto, and Pausanias, who had come in,and who was brave enough, but nothing of a warrior, were the onlydefenders of the peristylium.
"You two," shouted Mamercus, "guard the other door! Move that heavychest against it. Pile the couch and cabinet on top. This door I willhold."
There was the blow of a heavy mace on the portal, and the wood sprangout, and the pivots started.
"Leave this alone," roared Mamercus, when his two helpers paused, asif to join him. "Guard your own doorway!"
"Down with it!" bellowed the voice of the leaders without. "Don't letthe game escape! Strike again!"
Crash! And the door, beaten from its fastenings by a mighty stroke,tumbled inward on to the mosaic pavement of the peristylium. The lightwas streaming bright and free into that court, but the passageway fromthe atrium was shrouded in darkness. Mamercus, sword drawn, stoodacross the entrance.
"By the god Tarann!"[115] shouted Dumnorix, who from the rear of hisfollowers was directing the attack. "Here is a stout old game-cock!Out of the way, greybeard! We'll spare you for your spirit. Take him,some of you, alive!"
[115] The Gallic thunder-god.
Two gigantic, blond Germans thrust their prodigious bodies through thedoorway. Mamercus was no small man, but slight he seemed before thesemighty Northerners.
The Germans had intended to seize him in their naked hands, butsomething made them swing their ponderous long swords and then, twoflashes from the short blade in the hand of the veteran, and both thegiants were weltering across the threshold, their breasts pierced andtorn by the Roman's murderous thrusts.
"_Habet!_" cried Mamercus. "A fair hit! Come on, you scum of theearth; come on, you German and Gallic dogs; do you think I haven'tfaced the like of you before? Do you think your great bulks and fiercemustaches will make a soldier of Marius quiver? Do you want to tasteRoman steel again?"
And then there was a strange sight. A phantasm seemed to have comebefore every member of that mad, murderous band; for they saw, as itwere, in the single champion before them, a long, swaying line of menof slight stature like him; of men who dashed through their phalanxesand spear hedges; who beat down their chieftains; whom no arrow fire,no sword-play, no stress of numbers, might stop; but who charged homewith pilum and short-sword, and defeated the most valorous enemy.
"Ha! Dogs!" taunted Mamercus, "you have seen Romans fight before, elseyou were not all here, to make sport for our holiday!"
"He is Tyr,[116] the 'one-armed,' who put his left hand in the jaws ofFenris-wolf!" cried a German, shrinking back in dread. "A god isfighting us!"
[116] A Germanic war-god.
"Fools!" shouted Gabinius from a distance. "At him, and cut him down!"
"Cut him down!" roared Dumnorix, who had wits enough to realize thatevery instant's delay gave Drusus time to escape, or collect help.
There was another rush down the passage; but at the narrow doorway thepress stopped. Mamercus fought as ten. His shield and sword wereeverywhere. The Roman was as one inspired; his eyes shone bright andclear; his lips were parted in a grim, fierce smile; he belched forthrude soldier oaths that had been current in the army of fifty yearsbefore. Thrusting and parrying, he yielded no step, he sustained nowound. And once, twice, thrice his terrible short-sword found itssheath in the breast of a victim. In impotent rage the gladiatorsrecoiled a second time.
"Storm the other door!" commanded Dumnorix.
The two defenders there had undertaken to pile up furniture againstit; but a few blows beat down the entire barrier. Falto and Pausaniasstood to their posts stoutly enough; but there was no master-swordsmanto guard this entrance. The first gladiator indeed went down with apierced neck, but the next instant Falto was beside him, atoning forhis stupid folly, the whole side of his head cleft away by a strokefrom a Gallic long-sword.
"One rush and we have the old man surrounded," exhorted Dumnorix, whenonly Pausanias barred the way.
There was a growl and a bound, and straight at the foremost attackerflew Argos, Mamercus's great British mastiff, who had silently slippedon to the scene. The assailant fell with the dog's fangs in histhroat. Again the gladiators recoiled, and before they could return tothe charge, back into the peristylium rushed Drusus, escaped fromCappadox, with that worthy and Mago and Agias, just released, at hisheels.
"Here's your man!" cried Gabinius, who still kept discreetly in therear.
"Freedom and ten _sestertia_[117] to the one who strikes Drusus down,"called Dumnorix, feeling that at last the game was in his hands.
[117] About $400.
But Mamercus had made of his young patron an apt pupil. All thefighting blood of the great Livian house, of the consulars andtriumphators, was mantling in Drusus's veins, and he threw himselfinto the struggle with the deliberate courage of an experiencedwarrior. His short-sword, too, found its victims; and across Falto'sbody soon were piled more. And now Drusus was not alone. For in fromthe barns and fields came running first the servants from the stables,armed with mattocks and muck-forks, and then the farm-hands with theirscythes and reaping hooks.
"We shall never force these doors," exclaimed Gabinius, in despair, ashe saw the defenders augmenting.
Dumnorix turned to his men.
"Go, some of you. Enter from behind! Take this rabble from the rear.In fair fight we can soon master it."
A part of the gladiators started to leave the atrium, Gabinius withthem. An instant later he had rushed back in blank dismay.
"Horsemen! They are dismounting before the house. There are more thana score of them. We shall be cut to pieces."
"We have more than fifty," retorted Dumnorix, viciously. "I willsacrifice them all, rather than have the attack fail!--" But before hecould speak further, to the din of the fighting at the doors of theperistylium was added a second clamour without. And into the atrium,sword in hand, burst Caius Curio, and another young, handsome,aquiline-featured man, dressed in a low-girt tunic, with a loose,coarse mantle above it,--a man known to history as Marcus Antonius, or"Marc Antony "; and at their backs were twenty men in full armour.
The courage of the lanista had failed him. Already Drusus'sreinforcements in the peristylium had become so numerous and so wellarmed that the young chieftain was pushing back the gladiators andrapidly assuming the offensive. Gabinius was the first to take flight.He plunged into one of the rooms off the atrium, and through a sidedoor gained the open. The demoralized and beaten gladiators followedhim, like a flock of sheep. Only Dumnorix and two or three of his bestmen stood at the exit long enough to cover, in some measure, theretreat.
Once outside, the late assailants gained a temporary respite, owing tothe fact that the defenders had been disorganized by their veryvictory.
"We have lost," groaned Gabinius, as the lanista drew his men togetherin a compact body, before commencing his retreat.
"We are alive," growled Dumnorix.
"We cannot go back to Rome," moaned the other. "We are all identified.No bribe or favour can save us now."
"A robber's life is still left," retorted Dumnorix, "a
nd we must makeof it what we can. Some of my men know these parts, where they havebeen slaves, before coming to my hands. We must strike off for themountains, if we live to get there."
All that day the country was in a turmoil. The Praenestean senate hadmet in hasty session, and the _decurions_[118] ordered the entirecommunity under arms to hunt down the disturbers of the peace. Notuntil nightfall did Dumnorix and a mere remnant of his band findthemselves able, under the shadow of the darkness, to shake off thepursuit. Gabinius was still with him. Curio and Antonius had chasedthem down with their horsemen; many of the gladiators had been slain,many more taken. For the survivors only the life of outlaws remained.The fastnesses of the Apennines were their sole safety; andthither--scarce daring to stop to pillage for victuals--they hurriedtheir weary steps.
[118] Local municipal magistrates.
III
Lucius Ahenobarbus spent that day in frightful anxiety. One moment hewas fingering Drusus's money bags; the next haunted by the murderedman's ghost. When he called on Cornelia, her slaves said she had aheadache and would receive no one. Pratinas held aloof. No news allday--the suspense became unendurable. He lived through the followingnight harassed by waking visions of every conceivable calamity; buttoward morning fell asleep, and as was his wont, awoke late. The firstfriend he met on the street was Calvus, the young poet and orator.
"Have you heard the news from Praeneste?" began Calvus.
"News? What news?"
"Why, how Dumnorix's gang of gladiators attacked the villa of yourdistant relative, Quintus Drusus, and were beaten off, while theytried to murder him. A most daring attempt! But you will hear allabout it. I have a case at the courts and cannot linger."
And Calvus was gone, leaving Ahenobarbus as though he had beencudgelled into numbness. With a great effort he collected himself.After all, Dumnorix's gladiators were nothing to him. And when laterhe found that neither Dumnorix, nor Gabinius, nor Phaon had been takenor slain at Praeneste, he breathed the easier. No one else exceptPratinas, he was certain, knew _why_ the lanista had made his attack;and there was no danger of being charged with complicity in theconspiracy. And so he was able to bear the stroke of ill-fortune withsome equanimity, and at last rejoice that his dreams would no longerbe haunted by the shade of Drusus. He was in no mood to meet Pratinas,and the smooth Greek evidently did not care to meet him. He wentaround to visit Cornelia again--she was still quite indisposed. So hespent that morning with Servius Flaccus playing draughts, a game atwhich his opponent was so excessively stupid that Ahenobarbus won atpleasure, and consequently found himself after lunch[119] in amoderately equable humour. Then it was he was agreeably surprised toreceive the following note from Cornelia.
[119] _Prandium_.
"Cornelia to her dearest Lucius, greeting.
I have been very miserable these past two days, but this afternoonwill be better. Come and visit me and my uncle, for there are severalthings I would be glad to say before you both. Farewell."
"I think," remarked Lucius to himself, "that the girl wants to havethe wedding-day hastened. I know of nothing else to make her desireboth Lentulus and myself at once. I want to see her alone. Well, Icannot complain. I'll have Drusus's bride, even if I can't have hismoney or his life."
And so deliberating, he put on his finest saffron-tinted synthesis,his most elegant set of rings, his newest pair of black shoes,[120]and spent half an hour with his hairdresser; and thus habited herepaired to the house of the Lentuli.
[120] Black shoes were worn as a sort of badge by _equites_.
"The Lady Cornelia is in the Corinthian hall," announced the slave whocarried in the news of his coming, "and there she awaits you."
Lucius, nothing loth, followed the servant. A moment and he was in thelarge room. It was empty. The great marble pillars rose cold andmagnificent in four stately rows, on all sides of the high-vaultedapartment. On the walls Cupids and blithesome nymphs were careering infresco. The floor was soft with carpets. A dull scent of burningincense from a little brazier, smoking before a bronze Minerva, in onecorner of the room, hung heavy on the air. The sun was shining warmand bright without, but the windows of the hall were small and highand the shutters also were drawn. Everything was cool, still, anddark. Only through a single aperture shot a clear ray of sunlight, andstretched in a radiant bar across the gaudy carpets.
Lucius stumbled, half groping, into a chair, and seated himself.Cornelia had never received him thus before. What was she preparing?Another moment and Lentulus Crus entered the darkened hall.
"_Perpol!_ Ahenobarbus," he cried, as he came across his prospectivenephew-in-law, "what can Cornelia be wanting of us both? And in thisplace? I can't imagine. Ah! Those were strange doings yesterday up inPraeneste. I would hardly have put on mourning if Drusus had beenferried over the Styx; but it was a bold way to attack him. I don'tknow that he has an enemy in the world except myself, and I can bidemy time and pay off old scores at leisure. Who could have been back ofDumnorix when he blundered so evidently?"
Ahenobarbus felt that it was hardly possible Lentulus would condemnhis plot very severely; but he replied diplomatically:--
"One has always plenty of enemies."
"_Mehercle!_ of course," laughed the consul-elect, "what would life bewithout the pleasure of revenge! But why does my niece keep uswaiting? Jupiter, what can she want of us?"
"Uncle, Lucius, I am here." And before them, standing illumined in thepanel of sunlight, stood Cornelia. Ahenobarbus had never seen her sobeautiful before. She wore a flowing violet-tinted stola, that tumbledin soft, silky flounces down to her ankles, and from beneath it peeredthe tint of her shapely feet bound to thin sandals by bright redribbons. Her bare rounded arms were clasped above and below the elbowand at the wrists by circlets shaped as coiled serpents, whose eyeswere gleaming rubies. At her white throat was fastened a necklace ofinterlinked jewel-set gold pendants that shimmered on her half-bareshoulders and breast. In each ear was the lustre of a great pearl. Herthick black hair fell unconfined down her back; across her brow was afrontlet blazing with great diamonds, with one huge sapphire in theirmidst. As she stood in the sunlight she was as a goddess, an Aphroditedescended from Olympus, to drive men to sweet madness by the ravishingpuissance of her charms.
"Cornelia!" cried Lucius, with all the fierce impure admiration of hisnature welling up in his black heart, "you are an immortal! Let methrow my arms about you! Let me kiss you! Kiss your neck but once!"And he took a step forward.
"Be quiet, Lucius," said Cornelia, speaking slowly and with as littlepassion as a sculptured marble endued with the powers of speech. "Wehave other things to talk of now. That is why I have called you here;you and my uncle."
"Cornelia!" exclaimed the young man, shrinking back as though a sightof some awful mystery had stricken him with trembling reverence, "whydo you look at me so? Why do your eyes fasten on me that way? What areyou going to do?"
It was as if he had never spoken. Cornelia continued steadily, lookingstraight before her.
"Uncle, is it your wish that I become the wife of Lucius Ahenobarbus?"
"You know it is," replied Lentulus, a little uneasily. He could notsee where this bit of affection on the part of his niece would end. Hehad never heard her speak in such a tone before.
"I think, uncle," went on Cornelia, "that before we say anythingfurther it will be well to read this letter. It was sent to me, butboth you and Lucius will find it of some interest." And she held outtwo or three wax tablets.
Lentulus took them, eager to have done with the by-play. But when hesaw on the binding-cords the seal--which, though broken, still showedits impression--he gave a start and exclamation.
"_Perpol!_ The seal of Sextus Flaccus, the great capitalist."
"Certainly, why should it not be from him?"
Lentulus stepped nearer to the light, and read: Lucius standing by andhanging on every word, Cornelia remaining at her previous stationrigid as the bronze faun on the pedestal at her elbow. Lentulusread:--<
br />
"Sextus Fulvius Flaccus, to the most noble lady Cornelia:--
If you are well it is well with me.
Perhaps you have heard how the plots of the conspirators against mydear friend and financial client Quintus Drusus have been frustrated,thanks, next to the god, to the wit and dexterity of Agias, who hasbeen of late your slave. Drusus as soon as he had fairly beaten offthe gladiators sent at once for me, to aid him and certain other ofhis friends in taking the confession of one Phaon, the freedman ofLucius Ahenobarbus, whom Agias had contrived to entrap in Gabii, andhold prisoner until the danger was over. Phaon's confession puts us incomplete possession of all the schemes of the plotters; and it will bewell for you to inform that worthy young gentleman, LuciusAhenobarbus, that I only forbear to prosecute him, and Pratinas, whoreally made him his supple tool, because I am a peaceable man whowould not bring scandal upon an old and noble family. If, however,anything should befall Drusus which should indicate that fresh plotsagainst his life were on foot, let Ahenobarbus be assured that I canno more regard him so leniently. I may add that since it was through amarriage with you that Ahenobarbus expected to profit by the murder, Ihave already advised Drusus that, according to the decisions ofseveral of the most eminent _jurisconsulti_,[121] a property provisionsuch as his father inserted in his will would not be binding,especially in view of the present facts of the case. Drusus hasaccordingly prepared a new will which, if questioned, I shall defendin the courts with all my power. Farewell."
[121] Expounders of the Roman law.
Lentulus turned and glared with sullen amazement at his niece. ThatAhenobarbus should conspire against Drusus seemed the most naturalthing in the world. That the news that the conspiracy had failedshould come from such a quarter, and through the hands of his ownniece, at once terrified and angered him. Lucius was standing gaping,in half horror, half fascination, at Cornelia. Had she not urged himon? Had she not almost expressed her wish for Drusus's blood? The nameof Flaccus fell on his heart like a stone; for the great banker neverwent back when he had taken a stand, and was rich enough to corruptthe most lax and merciful jury. Ahenobarbus felt a trap snap upon him,and yet he had no hope of revenge.
"Cornelia," cried Lentulus, regaining at last the powers of speech,"why was this letter sent to you? What to you is that wretched youth,Quintus Drusus, who escaped a fate he richly deserved? Why do you notcondole with your lover on his misfortune? What do you mean by yourstony stare, your--"
"I mean," retorted Cornelia, every word coming as a deep pant from herheaving chest, while her fingers clasped and unclasped nervously, andthe blood surged to her pallid cheeks, "I mean that I need no longerprofess to love what I hate; to cherish what I despise; to fondle whatI loathe; to cast soft looks on that which I would pierce withdaggers!" And she in turn took a step, quick and menacing, toward herwretched lover, who cowered and shrank back into the shadow of apillar.
"But you yourself said you hoped I would soon rid you of Drusus,"howled Lucius.
"Fool!" hissed the woman, through her clenched teeth. "Didn't you knowthat all that I said, all that I did, all that I thought, was for thisend--how might I save Quintus by learning the plans of the wretch whothirsted for his blood? Do you feel paid, now, for all your labours tosecure the wealth of a man whose name should not be uttered besidethat of yours?"
"And you do not love me!" screamed Ahenobarbus, springing at her, asif to force his arms around her neck.
"Dog!" and Cornelia smote him so fairly in the face that he shrankback, and pressed his hand to a swelling cheek. "I said I hated anddespised you. What I despise, though, is beneath my hate. I wouldtread on you as on a viper or a desert asp, as a noxious creature thatis not fit to live. I have played my game; and though it was not I whowon, but Agias who won for me, I am well content. Drusus lives! Livesto see you miserably dead! Lives to grow to glory and honour, tohappiness and a noble old age, when the worms have long since finishedtheir work on you!"
"Girl," thundered Lentulus, fiercely, "you are raving! Ahenobarbus isyour affianced husband. Rome knows it. I will compel you to marry him.Otherwise you may well blush to think of the stories that vulgarreport will fasten around your name."
But Cornelia faced him in turn, and threw her white arms aloft asthough calling down some mightier power than human to her aid; and herwords came fast:--
"What Rome says is not what my heart says! My heart tells me that I ampure where others are vile; that I keep truth where others are false;that I love honourably where others love dishonourably. I knew thecost of what I would do for Drusus's sake; and, though the vilestslave gibber and point at me, I would hold my head as proudly as didever a Cornelian or Claudian maiden; for I have done that which my ownheart tells me was right; and more than that or less than that, can notrue woman do!"
Ahenobarbus felt the room spinning round him. He saw himself ruined ineverything that he had held dear. He would be the laughing-stock ofRome; he, the hero of a score of amorous escapades, the darling of asmany patrician maidens, jilted by the one woman to whom he had becomethe abject slave. Courage came from despair.
"Be silent!" he gasped, his face black with fury. "If every word yousay were true, yet with all the more reason would I drag you in mymarriage procession, and force you to avow yourself my wife. Neverhave I been balked of woman; and you, too, with all your tragicbathos, shall learn that, if you won't have me for a slave, I'll bowyour neck to my yoke."
"I think the very noble Lucius Ahenobarbus," replied Cornelia, in thathigh pitch of excitement which produces a calm more terrible than anyopen fury, "will in person be the protagonist in a tragedy very sorryfor himself. For I can assure him that if he tries to make good histhreat, I shall show myself one of the Danaides, and he will need hisfuneral feast full soon after the wedding banquet."
"Woman!" and Lentulus, thoroughly exasperated, broke in furiously."Say another word, and I with my own hands will flog you like a commonslave."
Cornelia laughed hysterically.
"Touch me!" she shouted; and in her grasp shone a small bright dagger.
Lentulus fell back. There was something about his niece that warnedhim to be careful.
"Wretched girl!" he commanded, "put down that dagger."
"I will not," and Cornelia stood resolutely, confronting her twopersecutors; her head thrown back, and the light making her throat andface shine white as driven snow.
There was very little chivalry among the ancients. Lentulusdeliberately clapped his hands, and two serving-men appeared.
"Take that dagger from the Lady Cornelia!" commanded the master. Themen exchanged sly glances, and advanced to accomplish the disarming.
But before they could catch Cornelia's slender wrists in their coarse,rough hands, and tear the little weapon from her, there were cuts andgashes on their own arms; for the struggle if brief was vicious.Cornelia stood disarmed.
"You see what these mock heroics will lead to," commented Lentulus,with sarcastic smile, as he observed his order had been obeyed.
"_You_ will see!" was her quick retort.
"_Hei! hei!_" screamed one of the slaves an instant later, sinking tothe floor. "Poison! It's running through my veins! I shall die!"
"You will die," repeated Cornelia, in ineffable scorn, spurning thewretch with her foot. "Lie there and die! Cease breathing; sleep! Andthat creature, Ahenobarbus, yonder, shall sleep his sleep too, ere hework his will on me! Ha! ha! Look at my handiwork; the other slave isdown!"
"Girl! Murderess!" raged Lentulus. "What is this? You have slain thesemen."
"I have slain your slaves," said Cornelia, resolutely folding herarms; "the poison on the dagger was very swift. You did excellentlywell, Lucius, not to come near me." And she picked up the dagger,which the slave, writhing in agony, had dropped.
"Do you wish to attack me again? _Phy!_ I have more resources thanthis. This venom works too quickly. See, Syrax is already out of hismisery; and his fellow will soon be beyond reach of woe. When I strike_you_, Lucius Ahenobarbus
, you shall die slowly, that I may enjoy yourpain. What need have I of this weapon?" And she flung the daggeracross the carpet so that it struck on the farther wall. "Pick it up,and come and kill me if you wish! Drusus lives, and in him I live, forhim I live, and by him I live. And you--and you are but as evil dreamsin the first watch of a night which shall be forgotten either in sweetunending slumbers, or the brightness of the morning. And now I havespoken. Do with me as it lies in your power to do; but remember whatpower is mine. _Vale!_"
And Cornelia vanished from the darkened hall. The two men heard theclick of the door, and turned and gazed blankly into one another'sfaces.
"The gods defend me, but I shall be yoked to one of the Dirae!"stammered Ahenobarbus.
A Friend of Cæsar: A Tale of the Fall of the Roman Republic. Time, 50-47 B.C. Page 11