XII.
FLIGHT.
Slowly Sergius disengaged himself from the death grip that entangledhim, and, rising, turned to where Marcia stood. Still holding thelighted lamp above her head and peering forward, she gazed into hiseyes with a look wherein wonder and terror were mingled with awakeningjoy.
"Who are you?" she faltered at last; "you who come as a slave, bearingthe face of a shade?"
"I _am_ a shade," he answered; "one sent back by Orcus--by the hand ofMercury, to save a Roman woman from dishonour."
"Oh, my lord Lucius!" she cried, falling upon her knees and holding outher hands toward him. "Truly it was not dishonour to avenge you, tosave the Republic; but if it were, then may your manes pity and forgiveme. There, now, is the dagger. Take it and use it, so that I, too,may be your companion when you return to the land that owns you. Ilove you, Lucius; the laughter of the old days has passed. Surely awoman who is about to die may say to the dead words which a girl mightnot say to her lover for the shame of them. I love you--I love you.Take me before the maiden, Proserpine, that she may show us favour--toyour land--"
The lamp fell from her hand; she felt herself raised suddenly from thepavement, and strained hard against a bosom that rose and fell with allthe pulsations of life and love. Frightened, wondering, she struggledfaintly, while kisses warm and human fell upon her brow, her eyes, herlips.
"Marcia, little bird, dearest, purest, best," murmured a voice close toher ear; "yes, you shall go with me to my land, and that land is Rome."
Still she trembled in his arms, not daring to believe.
"Wait," he said. Then, releasing her for a moment, he regained thefallen lamp, relighted it and placed it in its niche, facing her againwith arms outspread.
"Look well; am I not indeed Lucius Sergius--once pierced and worn withwounds, but now well and strong to fight or love? The tale I told youwas true. It was my tale--the saving of one Roman from the slaughterof her legions."
She drew closer and looked again into his eyes.
"Yes," she said, and in her voice the joy began to sweep away all otherfeelings; "yes, you are indeed Lucius Sergius Fidenas--man, not shade--"
But, taking her hand, he interrupted:--
"Do you not remember the omen, my Marcia? how you said you would loveme when Orcus should send back the dead from Acheron? how I acceptedit? how the gods have brought all about, as was most to their honourand my joy?--for now you have indeed said that you love me."
She placed her free hand upon his shoulder saying:--
"And that which I, Marcia, daughter of Titus Manlius Torquatus, havesaid unto the shade, that say I to the living Lucius Sergius. Take me,love; for where thou art Caius, there shall I be Caia."
Once again he took her in his arms and kissed her upon the lips, longand tenderly. Then she drew herself back.
"You are wounded?" she said anxiously. "Forgive me that I forgot.Truly I forget all things, now--in this wonder and joy."
Sergius laughed.
"He pricked me--in the thigh, I think, but not deeply. The gods havebrought me so close to the shades that I am enough akin to them not toheed little hurts."
But she had seized the lamp and was examining his injury--a flesh woundthat, while it had bled freely, yet seemed to have avoided the largermuscles and blood-vessels.
"Did I not tell you?" he said reassuringly, as she rose from her knee."A close bandage so that it will not bleed--that is all we shall want,for my strength must remain with me yet a little while, if we wouldtruly go to Rome and not to the realms of the dead."
She said nothing, but, tearing strips from her stole, proceeded deftlyto bind them around the leg.
"Agathocles himself could not do better--nay, I doubt Aesculapius--"but she rose again quickly and placed her finger upon his lips.
"It is the gods who have saved us to each other. Do not make themangry, lest they withdraw their favour. I am ready to follow you, mylord Lucius."
Standing erect, he raised both hands in invocation.
"A shrine to Venus the Preserver!--to Apollo the Healer!"
Then, stooping quickly, he drew the long, dark robe of Iddilcar fromwhere it lay entangled about the legs of the corpse. Fortunately ithad slipped down from the Carthaginian's shoulders early in thestruggle; perhaps he had tried to free himself from it; perhaps it hadbeen partly torn away; but, in either event, it had fallen where itmust have hampered his movements even more seriously, and where it wasless stained with his blood than might have been expected.
Sergius threw it over his own tattered, blood-stained garments,striving to hide the rents, and raising it high about his neck so as toconceal his face as much as possible. Meanwhile, Marcia, having boundon her sandals, had of her own accord donned the mantle Iddilcar hadbrought for her, and which had fallen by the door of the apartment.Then, gathering up her long, thick hair, she confined it close aboveher head, drawing down upon it the hat that lay beside the cloak--abroad-brimmed Greek petasus, admirably adapted for concealment as wellas protection.
"I am ready," she said eagerly. "Let us make haste."
Sergius was stooping over the dead man, searching for something.
"It is the ring," he said; "the ring with the seal of the Great Councilof which he spoke. How else should we pass the guard at the gate?"
A moment later he rose, and, going to the light, examined carefully theseveral rings taken from the priest's-fingers.
One by one they dropped and rolled away over the floor. The last onlyremained, and Marcia, looking over his shoulder, saw a heavy, goldsignet bearing the device of a horse under a palm tree.
"Come now," he said, taking her hand. He had thrust the long knife ofIddilcar into the girdle of his tunic, and this was their only weapon.So, leading Marcia, he quickly traversed the halls and courts andgained the door, which hung ajar and unattended. Outside, a company offive men were gathered, all mounted. Two were apparently soldiers, asort of guard; the rest were servants. Heavy looking packages werebound, behind them, on their horses' backs, doubtless the money whichIddilcar had gotten, while two extra animals, saddled and bridled, wereheld in waiting.
The heart of Sergius leaped as he noted the fine, small heads andslender, muscular legs that marked the Asian stock of their mounts.Iddilcar had provided well for all emergencies; but Sergius felt someanxiety lest a chance glimpse of his face might lead to detection. Thesky in the east was already beginning to lighten, and there were moremen of the escort than he had anticipated. Speech would be fatal;therefore he strode quickly out, took the bridle of one of the horsesfrom the man who held it, and swung himself upon its back. To assistMarcia could not be done without exciting suspicion, and he ground histeeth when she tried to follow his example, and one of the servantslaughed and pushed her roughly into the saddle. Then they rode on, andthe others followed, whispering together.
He had muffled his face a trifle too closely, perhaps, and he hadmounted the horse standing, whereas all knew that the Cappadocians weretrained to kneel at the word. Therefore the men of the escortwondered, though they hardly ventured to suspect.
Marcia felt, rather than noted, their attitude, and Sergius, glancingtoward her, saw that she was trembling. He urged his horse fastertoward the gate that opened upon the Appian Way; boldness and speedwere all that could save them. Suddenly the gate loomed up, gray andmassive, in the mist of the early morning. Several soldiers loungedforward from the guardhouse, whence came the rattle of dice and theshrill laughter of a woman. Sergius showed his ring and said nothing,while Marcia came close to him, shivering, for the morning air waschill and biting. Their followers had drawn rein, and were gathered ina little clump several spear-lengths behind.
Meanwhile the soldiers, Spaniards they seemed, were gazing stupidly atthe device on the seal and making irrelevant comments. It was evidentthat their night had been spent among the wineskins, and that a newdanger menaced.
Summoning what Punic he knew, Sergius leaned forward and as
ked in a lowbut stern voice to see their officer. Fortunately his own followerswere too far away to hear his words, and drunken Iberians would not becritical as to a faulty Punic accent.
Still they hesitated, chattered together, and stared, but at last onewho seemed more sober than the rest reeled away to the guard-house,and, after some delay and evident persuasion, emerged again with ayoung officer whose moist, hanging lips and filmy eyes showed that he,too, had been dragged from the pursuit of pleasure. Helmetless andwith loosened corselet, every detail of his appearance told the storyof relaxed discipline.
"What do you want? at this hour?" he said thickly, ambling forward andleaning heavily upon the shoulder of his scarcely more steady guide.
Again Sergius held out the ring, and the man, being a nativeCarthaginian, recognized it through the mist of his intoxication, and,throwing himself at full length, touched the earth with his forehead.
"What do you wish?" he said, rising and standing, somewhat sobered bythe presence of such authority.
"Open the gate. I ride under orders of the schalischim," said theRoman, again speaking low and rapidly.
The officer turned and shouted to his men, and several ran to unbar thegate with such speed as their condition warranted. The other occupantsof the guard-house were now grouped at the door, five men, half armed,and two dishevelled women with painted faces and flower-embroideredpallas.
The gate swung slowly on its hinges.
"The light of the Baals be with you, friend!" exclaimed Sergius, and heand Marcia rode through, with hearts beating madly. Voices raised indiscussion made them turn in their saddles. In his drunken stupidity,the Carthaginian officer was trying to detain their escort andservants. "The master had said nothing about them. How did he knowthey belonged to the same party?" Then all began gesticulating andshouting to Sergius for help and explanation.
Here was an unforeseen incident, and the mind of the young Roman viewedit rapidly in all its lights. On the one side, he would be relieved ofan awkward following that might at any moment begin to suspect him; onthe other hand to leave these in the lurch would be to invite promptsuspicion. Still, they were fifty yards or more in advance, theirhorses were good, and more space would be gained before the tangle atthe gate could be straightened out; therefore he waved his arm, as ifmaking some signal, and, turning again in his saddle, rode on, butwithout increasing his speed.
Louder shouts followed him, for, as he had intended, his gesture hadproved unintelligible. Then, when they saw he did not stop, the criesceased suddenly and an animated chattering came to his ears. Here wassuspicion trying to make itself understood and, at last, succeeding,for, as Sergius glanced back once more to note how the matterprogressed, the young captain of the gate sprang forward and shoutedfor him to halt.
"A third altar--to Mercury the hastener!" exclaimed Sergius. "Quicknow! with the knees!" and, pressing the flanks of his Cappadocian, bothanimals bounded forward into a headlong gallop.