CHAPTER XXXI.
On the wide ascent leading to the Serapeum the praetorians stoodawaiting Caesar's commands. They had not yet formed in rank and file,but were grouped round the centurion Martialis, who had come totell them, sadly, of his removal to Edessa, and to take leave of hiscomrades. He gave his hand to each one of them in turn, and received akindly pressure in return; for the stubborn fellow, though not of thecleverest, had proved himself a good soldier, and to many of them atrusty friend. There was not one who did not regret his going from amongthem. But Caesar had spoken, and there was no gainsaying his orders.In the camp, after service, they might talk the matter over; for thepresent it were wise to guard their tongues.
The centurion had just said farewell to the last of his cohort, whenthe prefect, with the legate Quintus Flavius Nobilior, who commanded thelegion, and several other higher officers, appeared among them. Macrinusgreeted them briefly, and, instead of having the tuba blown as usual andletting them fall into their ranks, he told them to gather close roundhim, the centurions in front. He then disclosed to them the emperor'ssecret orders. Caesar, he began, had long exercised patience andmercy, but the insolence and malice of the Alexandrians knew no bounds;therefore, in virtue of his power over life and death, he had pronouncedjudgment upon them. To them as being nearest to his person he handedover the most remunerative part of the work of punishment. Whomsoeverthey found on the Kanopic way, the greatest and richest thoroughfare ofthe city, they were to cut down as they would the rebellious inhabitantsof a conquered town. Only the women and children and the slaves were tobe spared. If for this task, a hideous one at best, they chose to paythemselves out of the treasures of the citizens, nobody would blamethem.
A loud cheer followed these orders, and many an eye gleamed brighter.Even the coolest among them seemed to see a broad, deep pool of bloodinto which he need only dip his hand and bring out something worth thecatching. And the fish that were to be had there were not miserablecarp, but heavy gold and silver vessels, and coins and magnificentornaments. Macrinus then proceeded to inform the higher and lowerofficers of the course of action he had agreed upon with the emperor andZminis. Seven trumpet-blasts from the terrace of the Serapeum would givethe signal for the attack to begin. Then they were to advance, manipleon maniple; but they were not required to keep their ranks--each man hadhis own work to do. The legion was to assemble again at sunset at theGate of the Sun, at the eastern end of the road, after having swept itfrom end to end.
By order of the emperor, each man, however, must be particularly carefulwhom he cut down in any hiding-place, for Caesar wished to give thefollowing Alexandrians--who had sinned most flagrantly against him--thebenefit of a trial, and they must therefore be taken alive. He thennamed the gem-cutter Heron, his son Alexander, and his daughter Melissa,the Alexandrian senator Polybius, his son Diodoros, and the wife ofSeleukus.
He described them as well as he was able. For each one Caesar promiseda reward of three thousand drachmas, and for Heron's daughter twice asmuch, but only on condition of their being delivered up unhurt. Itwould therefore be to their own advantage to keep their eyes open inthe houses, and to be cautious. Whoever should take the daughter of thegem-cutter--and he described Melissa once more--would render a specialservice to Caesar and might reckon on promotion.
The centurion Julius Martialis stayed to hear the end of this discourse,and then hurriedly departed. He felt just as he had done in the war withthe Alemanni when a red-haired German had dealt him a blow on the helmetwith his club. His head whirled and swam as it did then--only to-dayblood-red lights danced before his eyes instead of deep blue and gold.It was some time before he could collect his thoughts to any purpose;but when he did, he clinched his fists as he recalled Caesar's malignantcruelty in forcing him away from his family.
Presently his large mouth widened into a satisfied smile. He was nolonger in that company, and need take no part in the horrid butchery. Inany other place he would no doubt have joined in it like the rest, gladof the rich booty; but here, in his own home, where his mother and wifeand child dwelt, it seemed a monstrous and accursed deed. Besides thegemcutter's family, in whom Martialis took no interest, Caesar seemed tohave a special grudge against the lady Berenike, whose husband Seleukushad been master to the centurion's father; nay, his own wife was stillin the service of the merchant.
Not being skilled in any trade, he had entered the army early. AsEvocatus he had married the daughter of a free gardener of Seleukus,and when he was ordered to Rome to join the praetorians his wife hadobtained the post of superintendent of the merchant's villa at Kanopus.For this they had to thank the kindness of the lady Berenike and hernow dead daughter Korinna; and he was honestly grateful to the wife ofSeleukus, for, as his wife was established in the villa, he could leaveher without anxiety and go with the army wherever it was ordered.
Having by this time reached the Kanopic street on his way to his family,he perceived the statues of Hermes and Demeter which stood on each sideof the entrance to the merchant's house, and his slow mind recapitulatedthe long list of benefits he had received from Seleukus and his wife; asecret voice urged upon him that it was his duty to warn them.
He owed nothing to Caesar, that crafty butcher, who out of pure malicecould deprive an honest soldier of his only joy in life and cheat himof half his pay--for the praetorians had twice the wages of the othertroops; and if he only knew some handicraft, he would throw away hissword today.
Here, at least, he could interfere with Caesar's ruthless schemes,besides doing his benefactors a good turn. He therefore entered thehouse of the merchant, instead of pursuing on his homeward way.
He was well known, and the mistress of the house was at once apprised ofhis arrival.
All the lower apartments were empty, the soldiers who had been quarteredin them having joined the others at the Serapeum.
But what had happened to the exquisite garden in the impluvium? Whathideous traces showed where the soldiers had camped, and, drunk withtheir host's costly wine, had given free play to their reckless spirits!
The velvet lawn looked like a stable-floor; the rare shrubs had beendenuded of their flowers and branches. Blackened patches on the mosaicpavement showed where fires had been kindled; the colonnades were turnedinto drying-grounds for the soldiers' linen, and a rope on which hungsome newly washed clothes was wound at one end round the neck of aVenus from the hand of Praxiteles, and at the other round the lyre of anApollo fashioned in marble by Bryaxis. Some Indian shrubs, of which hisfather-in-law had been very proud, were trampled underfoot; and in thegreat banqueting-hall, which had served as sleeping-room for a hundredpraetorians, costly cushions and draperies were strewn, torn from thecouches and walls to make their beds more comfortable.
Used to the sights of war as he was, the soldier ground his teeth withwrath at this scene. As long as he could remember, he had looked uponeverything here with reverence and awe; and to think that his comradeshad destroyed it all made his blood boil.
As he approached the women's apartments he took fright. How was he todisclose to his mistress what threatened her?
But it must be done; so he followed the waiting-maid Johanna, who ledhim to her lady's livingroom.
In it sat the Christian steward Johannes, with writing tablets andscrolls of papyrus, working in the service of his patroness. She herselfwas with the wounded Aurelius; and Martialis, on hearing this, begged tobe admitted to her.
Berenike was in the act of renewing the wounded soldier's bandages, andwhen the centurion saw how cruelly disfigured was the handsome, bloomingface of the young tribune, to whom he was heartily attached, the tearsrose to his eyes. The matron observed it, and witnessed with muchsurprise the affectionate greeting between the young noble and the plainsoldier.
The centurion greeted her respectfully; but it was not till Nernesianusasked him how it was that the troops had been called to arms at thishour, that Martialis plucked up courage and begged the lady of the houseto grant him an interview.
br /> But Berenike had still to wash and bandage the wounds of her patient--atask which she always performed herself and with the greatest care; shetherefore promised the soldier to be at his disposal in half an hour.
"Then it will be too late!" burst from the lips of the centurion; thenshe knew, by his voice and the terror-stricken aspect of the man whomshe had known so long, that he meant to warn her, and there was but onefrom whom the danger could come.
"Caesar?" she asked. "He is sending out his creatures to murder me?"
The imperious gaze of Berenike's large eyes so overpowered the simplesoldier as to render him speechless for a while. But Caesar hadthreatened his mistress's life--he must collect himself, and thus hemanaged to stammer:
"No, lady, no! He will not have you killed assuredly not! On thecontrary-they are to let you live when they cut down the others!"
"Cut down!" cried Apollinaris, raising himself up and staring horrifiedat this messenger of terror; but his brother laid his hand upon thecenturion's broad shoulder, and, shaking him vigorously, commanded himas his tribune to speak out.
The soldier, ever accustomed to obey, and only too anxious that hiswarning should not come too late, disclosed in hurried words what he hadlearned from the prefect. The brothers interrupted him from time to timewith some exclamation of horror or disgust, but Berenike remained silenttill Martialis stopped with a deep breath.
Then the lady gave a shrill laugh, and as the others looked at her inamazement she said coolly "You men will wade through blood and shamewith that reprobate, if he but orders you to do so. I am only a woman,and yet I will show him that there are limits even to his malignity."
She remained for a few moments lost in thought, and then ordered thecenturion to go and find out where her husband was.
Martialis obeyed at once, and no sooner was the door closed behind himthan she turned to the two brothers, and addressing herself first to oneand then to the other with equal vehemence, she cried "Who is right now?Of all the villains who have brought shame upon the throne and name ofmighty Caesar, this is the most dastardly. He has written plainly enoughupon Apollinaris's face how much he values a brave soldier, the son of anoble house. And you, Nemesianus--are you not also an Aurelius? You sayso; and yet, had he not chanced to let you care for your brother, youwould at this moment be wandering through the city like a mad dog,biting all who crossed your path. Why do you not speak? Why not tellme once more, Nemesianus, that a soldier must obey his commanderblindly?--And you, Apollinaris, will you dare still to assert thatthe hand with which Caesar tore your face was guided only by righteousindignation at an insult offered to an innocent maiden? Have you thecourage to excuse the murders by Caracalla of his own wife, and manyother noble women, by his anxiety for the safety of throne and state? I,too, am a woman, and may hold up my head with the best; but what have Ito do with the state or with the throne? My eye met his, and from thatmoment the fiend was my deadly enemy. A quick death at the hands of oneof his soldiers seemed too good for the woman he hated. Wild beasts wereto tear me to pieces before his eyes. Is that not sufficient for you?Put every abomination together, everything unworthy of an honorable manand abhorrent to the gods, and you have the man whom you so willinglyobey. I am only the wife of a citizen. But were I the widow of anoble Aurelian and your mother--" Here Apollinaris, whose wounds werebeginning to burn again, broke in: "She would have counseled us to leaverevenge to the gods. He is Caesar!"
"He is a villain!" shrieked the matron--"the curse, the shame ofhumanity, a damnable destroyer of peace and honor and life, such asthe world has never beheld before! To kill him would be to earn thegratitude and blessing of the universe. And you, the scions of a noblehouse, you, I say, prove that there still are men among so manyslaves! It is Rome herself who calls you through me--like her, a womanmaltreated and wounded to the heart's core--to bear arms in her servicetill she gives you the signal for making an end of the dastardly bloodhound!"
The brothers gazed at one another pale and speechless, till at lastNemesianus ventured to say "He deserves to die, we know, a thousanddeaths, but we are neither judges nor executioners. We can not do thework of the assassin."
"No, lady, we can not," added Apollinaris, and shook his wounded headenergetically.
But the lady, nothing daunted, went on: "Who has ever called Brutus amurderer? You are young--Life lies before you. To plunge a sword intothe heart of this monster is a deed for which you are too good. But Iknow a hand that understands its work and would be ready to guide thesteel. Call it out at the right moment and be its guide!"
"And that hand?" Apollinaris asked in anxious expectation.
"It is there," replied Berenike, pointing to Martialis, who entered theroom at that moment. Again the brothers interchanged looks of doubt, butthe lady cried: "Consider for a moment! I would fain go hence with thecertainty that the one burning desire shall be fulfilled which stillwarms this frozen heart."
She motioned to the centurion, left the apartment with him, and precededhim to her own room. Arrived there, she ordered the astonished freedmanJohannes, in his office as notary, to add a codicil to her will. Inthe event of her death, she left to Xanthe, the wife of the centurionMartialis, her lawful property the villa at Kanopus, with all itcontained, and the gardens appertaining to it, for the free use ofherself and her children.
The soldier listened speechless with astonishment. This gift was worthtwenty houses in the city, and made its owner a rich man. But thetestator was scarcely ten years older than his Xanthe, and, as he kissedthe hem of his mistress's robe in grateful emotion, he cried: "Maythe gods reward you for your generosity; but we will pray and offer upsacrifices that it may be long before this comes into our hands!"
The lady shook her head with a bitter smile, and, drawing the soldieraside, she disclosed to him in rapid words her determination to quitthis life before the praetorians entered the house. She then informedthe horror-stricken man that she had chosen him to be her avenger. Tohim, too, the emperor had dealt a malicious blow. Let him remember that,when the time came to plunge the sword in the tyrant's heart. Shouldthis deed, however, cost Martialis his life--which he had risked in manya battle for miserable pay--her will would enable his widow to bring uptheir children in happiness and comfort.
The centurion had thrown in a deprecatory word or two, but Berenikecontinued as if she had not heard him, till at last Martialis cried:
"You ask too much of me, lady. Caesar is hateful to me, but I am nolonger one of the praetorians, and am banished the country. How is itpossible that I should approach him? How dare I, a common man--"
The lady came closer to him, and whispered:
"You will perform this deed to which I have appointed you in the nameof all the just. We demand nothing from you but your sword. Greater menthan you--the two Aurelians--will guide it. At their word of commandyou will do the deed. When they give you the signal, brave Martialis,remember the unfortunate woman in Alexandria whose death you swore torevenge. As soon as the tribunes--"
But the centurion was suddenly transformed. "If the tribunes commandit," he interrupted with decision, his dull eye flashing--"if theydemand it of me, I do it willingly. Tell them Martialis's sword isever at their service. It has made short work of stronger men than thatvicious stripling."
Berenike gave the soldier her hand, thanked him hurriedly, and beggedhim, as he could pass unharmed through the city, to hasten to herhusband's counting-house by the water-side, to warn him and carry himher last greetings.
With tears in his eyes Martialis did as she desired. When he had gone,the steward began to implore his mistress to conceal herself, andnot cast away God's gift of life so sinfully; but she turned from himresolutely though kindly, and repaired once more to the brothers' room.
One glance at them disclosed to her that they had come to no definiteconclusion; but their hesitation vanished as soon as they heard that thecenturion was ready to draw his sword upon the emperor when theyshould give the signal; and Berenike breathed a sigh o
f relief at thisresolution, and clasped their hands in gratitude.
They, too, implored her to conceal herself, but she merely answered:
"May your youth grow into happy old age! Life can offer me nothingmore, since my child was taken from me--But time presses--I welcome themurderers, now that I know that revenge will not sleep."
"And your husband?" interposed Nemesianus.
She answered with a bitter smile: "He? He has the gift of being easilyconsoled.--But what was that?"
Loud voices were audible outside the sick-room. Nemesianus stationedhimself in front of the lady, sword in hand. This protection, however,proved unnecessary, for, instead of the praetorians, Johanna entered theroom, supporting on her arm the half-sinking form of a young man in whomno one would have recognized the once beautifully curled and carefullydressed Alexander. A long caracalla covered his tall form; Dido theslave had cut off his hair, and he himself had disguised his featureswith streaks of paint. A large, broad-brimmed hat had slipped to theback of his head like a drunken man's, and covered a wound from whichthe red blood flowed down upon his neck. His whole aspect breathed painand horror, and Berenike, who took him for a hired cut-throat sent byCaracalla, retreated hastily from him till Johanna revealed his name.
He nodded his head in confirmation, and then sank exhausted on his kneesbeside Apollinaris's couch and managed with great difficulty to stammerout: "I am searching for Philip. He went into the town-ill-out of hissenses. Did he not come to you?"
"No," answered Berenike. "But what is this fresh blood? Has theslaughter begun?"
The wounded man nodded. Then he continued, with a groan: "In frontof the house of your neighbor Milon--the back of my head--I fled--alance--"
His voice failed him, and Berenike cried to the tribune: "Supporthim, Nemesianus! Look after him and tend him. He is the brother of themaiden--you know--If I know you, you will do all in your power for him,and keep him hidden here till all danger is over."
"We will defend him with our lives!" cried Apollinaris, giving his handto the lady.
But he withdrew it quickly, for from the impluvium arose the rattle ofarms, and loud, confused noise.
Berenike threw up her head and lifted her hands as if in prayer. Herbosom heaved with her deep breath, the delicate nostrils quivered, andthe great eyes flashed with wrathful light. For a moment she stood thussilent, then let her arms fall, and cried to the tribunes:
"My curse be upon you if you forget what you owe to yourselves, to theRoman Empire, and to your dying friend. My blessing, if you hold fast towhat you have promised."
She pressed their hands, and, turning to do the same to the artist,found that he had lost consciousness. Johanna and Nemesianus had removedhis hat and caracalla, to attend to his wound.
A strange smile passed over the matron's stern features. Snatchingthe Gallic mantle from the Christian's hand, she threw it over her ownshoulders, exclaiming:
"How the ruffian will wonder when, instead of the living woman, theybring him a corpse wrapped in his barbarian's mantle!"
She pressed the hat upon her head, and from a corner of the room wherethe brothers' weapons stood, selected a hunting-spear. She asked if thisweapon might be recognized as belonging to them, and, on their answeringin the negative, said:
"My thanks, then, for this last gift!"
At the last moment she turned to the waiting-woman:
"Your brother will help you to burn Korinna's picture. No shameless gazeshall dishonor it again." She tore her hand from that of the Christian,who, with hot tears, tried to hold her back; then, carrying her headproudly erect, she left them.
The brothers gazed shudderingly after her. "And to know," criedNemesianus, striking his forehead, "that our own comrades will slay her!Never were the swords of Rome so disgraced!"
"He shall pay for it!" replied the wounded man, gnashing his teeth.
"Brother, we must avenge her!"
"Yes--her, and--may the gods hear me!--you too, Apollinaris," swore theother, lifting his hand as for an oath.
Loud screams, the clash of arms, and quick orders sounded from below andbroke in upon the tribune's vow. He was rushing to the window to drawback the curtain and look upon the horrid deed with his own eyes,when Apollinaris called him back, reminding him of their duty towardMelissa's brother, who was lost if the others discovered him here.
Hereupon Nemesianus lifted the fainting youth in his strong arms andcarried him into the adjoining room, laying him upon the mat which hadserved their faithful old slave as a bed. He then covered him with hisown mantle, after hastily binding up the wound on his head and anotheron his shoulder.
By the time the tribune returned to his brother the noise outside hadgrown considerably less, only pitiable cries of anguish mingled with theshouts of the soldiers.
Nemesianus hastily pulled aside the curtain, letting such a flood ofblinding sunshine into the room that Apollinaris covered his woundedface with his hands and groaned aloud.
"Sickening! Horrible! Unheard of!" cried his brother, beside himselfat the sight that met his eyes. "A battle-field! What do I say? Thepeaceful house of a Roman citizen turned into shambles. Fifteen, twenty,thirty bodies on the grass! And the sunshine plays as brightly on thepools of blood and the arms of the soldiers as if it rejoiced in itall. But there--Oh, brother! our Marcipor--there lies our dear oldMarci!--and beside him the basket of roses he had fetched for the ladyBerenike from the flower-market. There they be, steeped in blood, thered and white roses; and the bright sun looks down from heaven andlaughs upon it!"
He broke down into sobs, and then continued, gnashing his teeth withrage: "Apollo smiles upon it, but he sees it; and wait--wait but alittle longer, Tarautas! The god stretches out his hand already for theavenging bow! Has Berenike ventured among them? Near the fountain-howit flashes and glitters with the hues of Iris!--they are crowding roundsomething on the ground--Mayhap the body of Seleukus. No--the crowd isseparating. Eternal gods! It is she--it is the woman who tended you!"
"Dead?" asked the other.
"She is lying on the ground with a spear in her bosom. Now thelegate-yes, it is Quintus Flavius Nobilior--bends over her and draws itout. Dead--dead! and slain by a man of our cohort!"
He clasped his hands before his face, while Apollinaris muttered curses,and the name of their faithful Marcipor, who had served their fatherbefore them, coupled with wild vows of vengeance.
Nemesianus at length composed himself sufficiently to follow the courseof the horrible events going on below.
"Now," he went on, describing it to his brother, "now they aresurrounding Rufus. That merciless scoundrel must have done somethingabominable, that even goes beyond what his fellows can put up with.There they have caught a slave with a bundle in his hand, perhaps stolengoods. They will punish him with death, and are themselves no betterthan he. If you could only see how they come swarming from every sidewith their costly plunder! The magnificent golden jug set with jewels,out of which the lady Berenike poured the Byblos wine for you, is theretoo!--Are we still soldiers, or robbers and murderers?"
"If we are," cried Apollinaris, "I know who has made us so."
They were startled by the approaching rattle of arms in the corridor,and then a loud knock at the chamber-door. The next moment a soldier'shead appeared in the doorway, to be quickly withdrawn with theexclamation, "It is true--here lies Apollinaris!"
"One moment," said a second deep voice, and over the threshold steppedthe legate of the legion, Quintus Flavius Nobilior, in all the panoplyof war, and saluted the brothers.
Like them, he came of an old and honorable race, and was acting in placeof the prefect Macrinus, whose office in the state prevented him fromtaking the military command of that mighty corps, the praetorians.Twenty years older than the twins, and a companion-in-arms of theirfather, he had managed their rapid promotion. He was their faithfulfriend and patron, and Apollinaris's misfortune had disgusted him noless than the order in the execution of which he was now obliged to takepart.
Having greeted the brothers affectionately, observed their painfulemotion, and heard their complaints over the murder of their slave, heshook his manly head, and pointing to the blood that dripped from hisboots and greaves, "Forgive me for thus defiling your apartments," hesaid. "If we came from slaughtering men upon the field of battle, itcould only do honor to the soldier; but this is the blood of defenselesscitizens, and even women's gore is mixed with it."
"I saw the body of the lady of this house," said Nemesianus, gloomily."She has tended my brother like a mother."
"But, on the other hand, she was imprudent enough to draw down Caesar'sdispleasure upon her," interposed the Flavian, shrugging his shoulders."We were to bring her to him alive, but he had anything but friendlyintentions toward her; however, she spoiled his game. A wonderful woman!I have scarcely seen a man look death--and self-sought death--in theface like that! While the soldiers down there were massacring all whofell into their hands--those were the orders, and I looked on atthe butchery, for, rather than--well, you can imagine that foryourselves--through one of the doors there came a tall, extraordinaryfigure. The wide brim of a traveling hat concealed the features, and itwas wrapped in one of the emperor's fool's mantles. It hurried towardthe maniple of Sempronius, brandishing a javelin, and with a sonorousvoice reviling the soldiers till even my temper was roused. Here Icaught sight of a flowing robe beneath the caracalla, and, thehat having fallen back, a beautiful woman's face with large andfear-inspiring eyes. Then it suddenly flashed upon me that this grimdespiser of death, being a woman, was doubtless she whom we were tospare. I shouted this to my men; but--and at that moment I was heartilyashamed of my profession--it was too late. Tall Rufus pierced herthrough with his lance. Even in falling she preserved the dignity ofa queen, and when the men surrounded her she fixed each one separatelywith her wonderful eyes and spoke through the death-rattle in herthroat:
"'Shame upon men and soldiers who let themselves be hounded on like dogsto murder and dishonor!' Rufus raised his sword to make an end of her,but I caught his arm and knelt beside her, begging her to let me see toher wound. With that she seized the lance in her breast with bothhands, and with her last breath murmured, 'He desired to see the livingwoman--bring him my body, and my curse with it! Then with a last supremeeffort she buried the spear still deeper in her bosom; but it was notnecessary.
"I gazed petrified at the high-bred, wrathful face, still beautifulin death, and the mysterious, wide-open eyes that must have flashedso proudly in life. It was enough to drive a man mad. Even after I hadclosed her eyes and spread the mantle over her--"
"What has been done with the body?" asked Apollinaris.
"I caused it to be carried into the house and the door of thedeath-chamber carefully locked. But when I returned to the men. I had toprevent them from tearing Rufus to pieces for having lost them the largereward which Caesar had promised for the living prisoner."
"And you," cried Apollinaris, excitedly, "had to look on while our men,honest soldiers, plundered this house--which entertained many of us sohospitably--as if they had been a band of robbers! I saw them draggingout things which were used in our service only yesterday."
"The emperor--his permission!" sighed Flavius. "You know how it is. Thelowest instincts of every nature come out at such a time as this, andthe sun shines upon it all. Many a poor wretch of yesterday will go tobed a wealthy man to-day. But, for all that, I believe much was hiddenfrom them. In the room of the mistress of the house whence I have justcome, a fire was still blazing in which a variety of objects had beenburned. The flames had destroyed a picture--a small painted fragmentbetrayed the fact. They perhaps possessed masterpieces of Apelles orZeuxis. This woman's hatred would lead her to destroy them rather thanlet them fall into the hands of her imperial enemy; and who can blameher?"
"It was her daughter's portrait," said Nemesianus, unguardedly.
The legate turned upon him in surprise. "Then she confided in you?" heasked.
"Yes," returned the tribune, "and we are proud to have been so honoredby her. Before she went to her death she took leave of us. We let hergo; for we at least could not bring ourselves to lay hands upon a noblelady."
The officer looked sternly at him and exclaimed, angrily:
"Do you suppose, young upstart, that it was less painful to me and manyanother among us? Cursed be this day, that has soiled our weapons withthe blood of women and slaves, and may every drachma which I take fromthe plunder here bring ill-luck with it! Call the accident that has keptyou out of this despicable work a stroke of good fortune, but beware howyou look down upon those whose oath forces them to crush out everyhuman feeling from their hearts! The soldier who takes part with hiscommander's enemy--"
He was interrupted by the entrance of Johanna, the Christian, whosaluted the legate, and then stood confused and embarrassed by the sideof Apollinaris's bed. The furtive glance she cast first at the side-roomand then at Nemesianus did not pass unobserved by the quick eye of thecommander, and with soldierly firmness he insisted on knowing what wasconcealed behind that door.
"An unfortunate man," was Apollinaris's answer.
"Seleukus, the master of this house?" asked Quintus Flavius, sternly.
"No," replied Nemesianus. "It is only a poor, wounded painter. Andyet--the praetorians will go through fire and water for you, if youdeliver up this man to them as their booty. But if you are what I holdyou to be--"
"The opinion of hot-headed boys is of as little consequence to me as thefavor of my subordinates," interposed the commander. "Whatever my conscience tells me is right, I shall do. Quick, now! Who is in there?"
"The brother of the maiden for whose sake Caesar--" stammered thewounded man.
"The maiden whom you have to thank for that disfigured face?" cried thelegate. "You are true Aurelians, you boys; and, though you may doubtwhether I am the man you take me for, I confess with pleasure that youare exactly as I would wish to have you. The praetorians have slain yourfriend and servant; I give you that man to make amends for it."
With deep emotion Nemesianus seized his old friend's hands, andApollinaris spoke words of gratitude to him from his couch. The officerwould not listen to their thanks, and walked toward the door; butJohanna stood before him, and entreated him to allow the twins, whoseservant had been killed, to take another, from whom they need haveno fear of treachery. He had been captured in the impluvium by thepraetorians while trying, in the face of every danger, to enter thehouse where the painter lay, to whose father he had belonged for manyyears. He would be able to tend both Apollinaris and Melissa's brother,and make it possible to keep Alexander's hiding-place a secret. Thesoldiery would be certain to penetrate as far as this, and other liveswould be endangered if they should bear off the faithful servant andforce him on the rack to disclose where Melissa's father and relativeswere hidden.
The legate promised to insure the freedom of Argutis.
A few more words of thanks and farewell, and Quintus had fulfilled hismission to the Aurelians. Shortly afterward the tuba sounded to assemblethe plunderers still scattered about Seleukus's house, and Nemesianussaw the men marching in small companies into the great hall. They werefollowed by their armor-bearers, loaded with treasure of every kind;and three chariots, drawn by fine horses, belonging to Seleukus and hismurdered wife, conveyed such booty as was too heavy for men to carry. Inthe last of these stood the statue of Eros by Praxiteles. The glorioussunshine lighted up the smiling marble face; with the charm ofbewitching beauty he seemed to gaze at the lurid crimson pools on theground, and at the armed cohorts which marched in front to shed moreblood and rouse more hatred.
As Nemesianus withdrew from the window, Argutis came into the room. Thelegate had released him; and when Johanna conducted the faithful fellowto Alexander's bedside, and he saw the youth lying pale and with closedeyes, as though death had claimed him for his prey, the old man droppedon his knees, sobbing loudly.