Chapter LX
FOR three days, or rather three nights, nothing disturbed their peace.When the usual prison work was finished, which consisted in separatingthe dead from the living and the grievously sick from those in betterhealth, when the wearied guards had lain down to sleep in the corridors,Vinicius entered Lygia's dungeon and remained there till daylight. Sheput her head on his breast, and they talked in low voices of love andof death. In thought and speech, in desires and hopes even, both wereremoved unconsciously more and more from life, and they lost the senseof it. Both were like people who, having sailed from land in a ship,saw the shore no more, and were sinking gradually into infinity. Bothchanged by degrees into sad souls in love with each other and withChrist, and ready to fly away. Only at times did pain start up in theheart of Vinicius like a whirlwind, at times there flashed in him likelightning, hope, born of love and faith in the crucified God; but hetore himself away more and more each day from the earth, and yielded todeath. In the morning, when he went from the prison, he looked on theworld, on the city, on acquaintances, on vital interests, as through adream. Everything seemed to him strange, distant, vain, fleeting. Eventorture ceased to terrify, since one might pass through it while sunkin thought and with eyes fixed on another thing. It seemed to both thateternity had begun to receive them. They conversed of how they wouldlove and live together, but beyond the grave; and if their thoughtsreturned to the earth at intervals, these were thoughts of people who,setting out on a long journey, speak of preparations for the road.Moreover they were surrounded by such silence as in some desertsurrounds two columns far away and forgotten. Their only care was thatChrist should not separate them; and as each moment strengthened theirconviction that He would not, they loved Him as a link uniting them inendless happiness and peace. While still on earth, the dust of earthfell from them. The soul of each was as pure as a tear. Under terror ofdeath, amid misery and suffering, in that prison den, heaven had begun,for she had taken him by the hand, and, as if saved and a saint, had ledhim to the source of endless life.
Petronius was astonished at seeing in the face of Vinicius increasingpeace and a certain wonderful serenity which he had not noted before. Attimes even he supposed that Vinicius had found some mode of rescue, andhe was piqued because his nephew had not confided his hopes to him. Atlast, unable to restrain himself, he said,--
"Now thou hast another look; do not keep from me secrets, for I wish andam able to aid thee. Hast thou arranged anything?"
"I have," said Vinicius; "but thou canst not help me. After her death Iwill confess that I am a Christian and follow her."
"Then thou hast no hope?"
"On the contrary, I have. Christ will give her to me, and I shall neverbe separated from her."
Petronius began to walk in the atrium; disillusion and impatience wereevident on his face.
"Thy Christ is not needed for this,--our Thanatos [death] can render thesame service."
Vinicius smiled sadly, and said,--"No, my dear, thou art unwilling tounderstand."
"I am unwilling and unable. It is not the time for discussion, butremember what I said when we failed to free her from the Tullianum. Ilost all hope, and on the way home thou didst say, 'But I believe thatChrist can restore her to me.' Let Him restore her. If I throw a costlygoblet into the sea, no god of ours can give it back to me; if yours isno better, I know not why I should honor Him beyond the old ones."
"But He will restore her to me."
Pettonius shrugged his shoulders. "Dost know," inquired he, "thatChristians are to illuminate Caesar's gardens to-morrow?"
"To-morrow?" repeated Vinicius.
And in view of the near and dreadful reality his heart trembled withpain and fear. "This is the last night, perhaps, which I can pass withLygia," thought he. So bidding farewell to Petronius, he went hurriedlyto the overseer of the "Putrid Pits" for his tessera. But disappointmentwas in waiting,--the overseer would not give the tessera.
"Pardon me," said he, "I have done what I could for thee, but I cannotrisk my life. To-night they are to conduct the Christians to Caesar'sgardens. The prisons will be full of soldiers and officials. Shouldstthou be recognized, I and my children would be lost."
Vinicius understood that it would be vain to insist. The hope gleamed inhim, however, that the soldiers who had seen him before would admithim even without a tessera; so, with the coming of night, he disguisedhimself as usual in the tunic of a corpse-bearer, and, winding a clotharound his head, betook himself to the prison.
But that day the tesserae were verified with greater care than usual; andwhat was more, the centurion Scevinus, a strict soldier, devoted souland body to Caesar, recognized Vinicius. But evidently in his iron-cladbreast there glimmered yet some spark of pity for misfortunes. Insteadof striking his spear in token of alarm, he led Vinicius aside andsaid,--
"Return to thy house, lord. I recognize thee; but not wishing thy ruin,I am silent. I cannot admit thee; go thy way, and may the gods send theesolace."
"Thou canst not admit me," said Vinicius, "but let me stand here andlook at those who are led forth."
"My order does not forbid that," said Scevinus.
Vinicius stood before the gate and waited. About midnight the prisongate was opened widely, and whole ranks of prisoners appeared,--men,women, and children, surrounded by armed pretorians. The night was verybright; hence it was possible to distinguish not only the forms, butthe faces of the unfortunates. They went two abreast, in a long, gloomytrain, amid stillness broken only by the clatter of weapons. So manywere led out that all the dungeons must be empty, as it seemed. In therear of the line Vinicius saw Glaucus the physician distinctly, butLygia and Ursus were not among the condemned.