CHAPTER XI.
THE SLAVES' TOILET.
Night fell, and with it my spirits, in my lonely prison.
Hesus! Hesus! I was left to the torture, not alone of my thoughts aboutmy sacred and beloved country, but also of my reflections concerning themisfortunes of my family. Alas, at every wound inflicted upon ourcountry our families bleed.
Forcibly resigned to my lot, I little by little regained my naturalstrength, encouraged each day by the hope of obtaining from the"horse-dealer" some intelligence of my children. I described them to himas accurately as possible. Every day his report was that among thecaptives seen there were none answering to my description, but thatseveral merchants made a practice of hiding their choice slaves from alleyes until the day of the public sale. The dealer also informed me thatthe patrician Trymalcion, whose very name now made me shudder withhorror, had arrived at Vannes in his galley.
The evening before the sale, the dealer entered my room. It was, almostdark. He brought in the meal himself, and waited on me. He brought as anextra a flagon of old Gallic wine.
"Friend Bull," said he, with his habitual joviality, "I am satisfiedwith you. Your skin is almost filled up. You have no more crazy spellsof anger, and if you don't appear exceedingly joyous, at least I nolonger find you sad and tearful. We will drink this flagon together, toyour happy placing with a good master, and to the gain which I shall getby you."
"No," I answered, "I shall not drink."
"And why not?"
"Servitude sours wine, especially the wine of the country where one wasborn."
"You respond ill to my kindness. You do not wish to drink? Suityourself. I would have liked to empty one cup to your happy placing, anda second to your reunion with your children. I have my reasons for thelatter."
"What say you!" I cried aloud, filled with hope and anguish. "You knowsomething about them?"
"I know nothing about them," he answered curtly, rising to go out. "Yourefuse my friendly advance. You have supped well--now sleep well."
"But what do you know of my children? Speak, I beg you, speak!"
"Wine alone loosens my tongue, friend Bull, and I am not one of thosemen who loves to drink by himself. You are too proud to empty a cup withyour master. Sleep well till to-morrow, the day of the auction."
He took another step toward the door. I feared that by refusing to yieldto the man's fancy I would anger him, and above all lose the chance ofobtaining news of my beloved children.
"Do you really wish it?" I said. "Then I shall drink, and especiallyshall I drink to the hope of soon meeting my son and daughter."
"You pray well," answered the "horse-dealer" approaching his chattel,but keeping the chain's length away; then he poured me a full cup ofwine, and another for himself. I later recollected that the man had heldthe cup a long time to his lips, but without my being able to seewhether he drank or not. "Come," he added. "Come, let us drink to thegood gain I shall make on you!"
"Yes, let us drink to the hope of meeting my children."
I emptied my cup. The wine seemed excellent.
"I made you a promise," began the dealer, "I shall keep my promise. Youtold me that the chariot which held your family on the day of the battleof Vannes was harnessed to four black oxen?"
"Yes."
"Four black oxen, with a little white mark in the middle of theirforeheads?"
"Yes, all four were brothers, and alike," I answered, unable to repressa sigh at the thought of that fine yoke, raised on our own meadows,which my father and mother had always admired.
"Those oxen carried on their necks leathern collars trimmed with littlebrass bells like this one?" continued the "horse-dealer," fumbling inhis pocket, out of which he drew a little brass bell that he held upbefore me.
I recognized it. It had been made by my brother Mikael, the armorer,and bore the mark with which he stamped all the articles of hisfashioning.
"This bell comes from our oxen," I answered. "Will you give it to me? Ithas no value."
"What," asked the dealer, laughing, "do you want to hang bells at yourneck too, friend Bull? It is your right. Here, take it. I brought itonly to know from you if the yoke it came from was of your family'schariot."
"Yes," I replied, putting the bell into my breeches pocket, as, perhaps,the only reminder of the past which might be left to me. "Yes, that yokewas ours. But it seems to me that I saw two of the oxen fall wounded inthe fight."
"You are not mistaken. Two of the oxen were killed in the battle. Theother two, though slightly wounded, are alive, and were bought by one ofmy companions, who also bought three children left in the chariot. Twoof them, a little boy and a little girl of about eight or nine, stillhad the cord around their necks. But my companion who found them wasluckily able to bring them back to life."
"Where is that merchant?" I asked, in a tremble.
"Here, at Vannes. You will see him to-morrow. We drew lots for ourplaces at the auction, our stands are opposite to each other. If thechildren he is to sell are yours, you will be near them."
"Shall I be really close?"
"You will be as close to them as twice the length of your room. But whydo you press your hands to your forehead?"
"I don't know. It is a long time since I have drunk wine. The glow ofwhat you poured out to me has gone to my head--a few seconds ago--I feelgiddy."
"That proves, friend Bull, that my wine is generous," answered the"horse-dealer" with a strange smile, and stepping out, he called to oneof the keepers. Presently he returned with a chest under his arm. Hecarefully shut the door, and hung a piece of curtain before the window,to prevent anyone looking from without into the room, which was nowlighted by a lamp. That done, he again passed his eyes very attentivelyover me, without saying a word, all the while opening his chest, fromwhich he took several flasks, sponges, a little silver vase with a longcurved tube, and also several instruments, one of which seemed verykeen. I watched my master closely, feeling an inexplicable numbnessgradually creeping over me. My heavy eye-lids fell once or twice inspite of myself. I had been seated on my bed of straw, to which I wasstill chained; but now I was compelled to lean my head against the wall,so heavy had it grown. Noticing the effect of the wine upon me, the"horse-dealer" said:
"Friend Bull, do not be disturbed at what is happening to you."
"What--" I answered, trying to shake off my stupor, "What is happeningto me?"
"You feel a sort of half-drowse creeping over you in spite of yourresistance."
"True."
"You hear me, you see me, but as if your ears and eyes were covered witha veil."
"It is true," I murmured, for my voice also was growing weak, andwithout experiencing any pain, my whole life seemed to be little bylittle ebbing out. Nevertheless, I made an effort, and said to the man:
"Why am I in this condition!"
"Because I have prepared you for the slaves' toilet."
"A toilet?"
"I possess, friend Bull, certain magic philters to increase theattractiveness of my merchandise. Although you are now quite well filledout, the deprivation of exercise and the open air, the fever which yourwounds caused, the sadness which captivity always occasions, and manyother things, have dried and dulled your skin, and turned you yellow.But thanks to my philters, to-morrow morning you will have a skin asfresh and sleek, and a color as ruddy as if you were coming in from thefields some lovely spring morning, my fine rustic. That appearance willlast barely a day or two, but I expect, by Jupiter, to have you sold byto-morrow evening, free to turn yellow and waste away under your newmaster. So I am going to commence by stripping you, and anointing youwith this preparation of oil." The "horse-dealer" unlocked one of hisflasks.[23]
The performance affected me as so deep a disgrace put upon my dignity,that in spite of the numbness which was more and more depressing me, Isprang to my feet, and shaking my hands and arms, then unshackled, criedout:
"To-day I have no manacles on. If you come near I will strangle you!"
/> "I foresaw all that, friend Bull," chuckled the "horse-dealer," calmlypouring the oil of his flask into a vase and soaking a sponge in it. "Iknew you would get hot and resist. I might have had you bound by thekeepers, but in your violence you would have bruised your limbs, adetestable sign for the sale. These bruises always denote a stubbornslave. And all the time, what cries you would have let out! What arebellion, when your head had to be shaved, in token of your slavery!"
At this last insulting threat, I called up all my remaining strength. Iarose, and threateningly cried out at the dealer:
"By Ritha-Gaur, the saint of the Gauls, who made himself a shirt of thebeards of the kings he had shaved, if you dare to touch a single hair ofmy head, I'll kill you!"[24]
"Oh, oh! Reassure yourself, friend Bull," answered the "horse-dealer,"pointing to his little sharp instrument. "Reassure yourself. I shall notcut a single one of your hairs--but all."
I could retain my standing position no longer. Swaying on my legs like adrunken man, I fell back on the straw, and heard the "horse-dealer"burst out laughing, and, while still pointing at his steel instrument,say:
"Thanks to this, your forehead will soon be as bald as that of the greatCaesar, whom, you say, you carried on your horse in full armor. And themagic philter which you drank in that Gallic wine will put you at mymercy, quiet as a corpse."
The "horse-dealer" spoke true. These words were the last I remember. Aleaden torpor fell upon me, and I lost all knowledge of what was donewith me.