CHAPTER XVIII.
THE RESCUE.
Speed, Malise, speed, the dun deer’s hide On fleeter foot was never tied. LADY OF THE LAKE.
Scarcely had the door closed behind Catiline, who rushed forth torch inhand, as if goaded by the furies of Orestes, when half a dozen stout men,sheathed in the full armor of Roman legionaries, sprang out of thebrushwood on the gorge’s brink, and seizing the ropes which had hung idleduring that critical hour, hauled on them with such energetical andzealous power, that the ladder was drawn across the chasm with almostlightning speed.
The hooks, with which its outer end was garnished, caught in the crevicesof the ruined wall, and a slender communication was established, althoughthe slight structure which bridged the abyss was scarcely capable ofsupporting the weight of a human being.
The soldiers, accustomed, as all Roman soldiers were, to all theexpediences and resources of warfare, had prepared planks which were to berun forward on the ladder, in order to construct a firm bridge. For theplan of the besiegers, until interrupted by Catiline’s arrival, had beento take the stronghold in reverse, while a false attack in front should bein progress, and throwing ten or twelve stout soldiers into the heart ofthe place, to make themselves masters of it by a coup-de-main.
This well-devised scheme being rendered unfeasible by the sudden charge ofCatiline’s horse, and the rout of the legionaries, the small subaltern’sdetachment which had been sent round under Lucia’s guidance—for it wasshe, who had discerned the means of passing the chasm, while lying in waitto assist Julia, and disclosed it to the centurion commanding—had beenleft alone, and isolated, its line of retreat cut off, and itself withouta leader.
The singular scenes, however, which they had witnessed, the interest whichalmost involuntarily they had been led to take in the fate of the fairgirl, her calm and dauntless fortitude, and above all the atrociousvillainy of Catiline, had inspired every individual of that little bandwith an heroic resolution to set their lives upon a cast, in order torescue one who to all of them was personally unknown.
In addition to this, the discovery of Lucia’s sex—for they had believedher to be what she appeared, a boy—which followed immediately on the lossof her Phrygian bonnet, and the story of her bitter wrongs, which hadtaken wind, acted as a powerful incentive to men naturally bold andenterprising.
For it is needless to add, that with the revelation of her sex, that ofher character as the arch-traitor’s child and victim went, as it were,hand in hand.
They had resolved, therefore, on rescuing the one, and revenging the otherof these women, at any risk to themselves whatsoever; and now havingwaited their opportunity with the accustomed patience of Roman veterans,they acted upon it with their habitual skill and celerity.
But rapid as were their movements, they were outstripped by the almostsuperhuman agility of Lucia, who, knowing well the character of the humanfiend with whom they had to contend, his wondrous promptitude in counsel,his lightning speed in execution, was well assured that there was not onemoment to be lost, if they would save Arvina’s betrothed bride from a fateworse than many deaths.
As soon therefore as she saw the hooks of the scaling ladder catch firmhold of the broken wall, before a single plank had been laid over itsfrail and distant rungs, she bounded over it with the light and airy footof a practised dancer—finding account at that perilous moment in one ofthose indelicate accomplishments in which she had been instructed forpurposes the basest and most horrible.
Accustomed as they were to deeds of energy and rapid daring, the stoutsoldiers stood aghast; for, measuring the action by their own weight andponderous armature, they naturally overrated its peril to one so slightlymade as Lucia.
And yet the hazard was extreme, for not taking it into account that asingle slip or false step must precipitate her into the abyss, the slenderwoodwork of the ladder actually bent as she alighted on it, from each ofher long airy bounds.
It was but a second, however, in which she glanced across it, dartedthrough the small embrasure, and was lost to the eyes of the men withinthe darkness of the old barrack.
Astonished though they were at the girl’s successful daring, the soldierswere not paralyzed at all, nor did they cease from their work.
In less than a minute after she had entered the window, a board was thrustforward, running upon the framework of the ladder, and upon that a stoutplank, two feet in breadth, capable of supporting, if necessary, theweight of several armed men.
Nor had this bridge been established many seconds before the soldier incommand ran forward upon it, and met Lucia at the embrasure, bearing withstrength far greater than her slight form and unmuscular limbs appeared topromise, the still senseless form of Julia.
Catching her from the arms of Lucia, the robust legionary cast thefainting girl across his shoulder as though she had been a feather; andrushed back with her toward his comrades, crying aloud in haste alarm—
"Quick! quick! follow me quick, Lucia. I hear footsteps, they arecoming!"—
The caution was needless, for almost outstripping the heavy soldier, thefleet-footed girl stood with him on the farther bank.
Yet had it come a moment later, it would have come all too late.
For having with his wonted celerity ascertained the truth of these fataltidings, and ordered the body of horse whom he had brought up with him,and who had returned from pursuing the infantry, on seeing a larger bodycoming up from Antonius’ army, to return with all speed to the camp ofManlius, retaining only a dozen troopers as a personal escort, Catilinehad come back to bear off his lovely captive.
The clang of his haughty step had reached the ears of the legionary justas he drew poor Julia, unconscious of her rescue, through the barrackwindow; and as they stood on the brink of the ravine, thus far in safety,the red glare of the torches streaming through the embrasures, announcedthe arrival of their enemies, within almost arm’s length of them.
The awful burst of imprecations which thundered from the lips of Catiline,as he perceived that his victim had been snatched from him, struck aweeven into the hearts of those brave veterans.
A tiger robbed of its young is but a weak and poor example of the frantic,ungovernable, beast-like rage which appeared to prevail entirely above allsenses, all consideration, and all reason.
"May I perish ill! may I die crucified! may the fowls of the air, thebeasts of the field devour me, if she so escape!" he shouted; andperceiving the means by which she had been carried off, he called loudlyfor his men to follow, and was in the very act of leaping out from theembrasure upon the bridge, which they had not time to withdraw, when oneof the legionaries spurned away the frail fabric with his foot, anddrawing his short falchion severed the cords which secured it, at a singleblow.
Swinging off instantly in mid air, it was dashed heavily against the rockywall of the precipice, and, dislodged by the shock, the planks wentthundering down into the torrent, at the bottom of the gorge; while upheldby the hooks to the stone window sill, the ladder hung useless onCatiline’s side of the chasm, all communication thus completelyinterrupted.
At the same moment three of the heavy pila, which were the peculiarmissiles of the legion, were hurled by as many stout arms at the furiousdesperado; but it was not his fate so to perish. One of the pondrousweapons hurtled so close to his temple that the keen head razed the skin,the others, blunted or shivered against the sides or lintel of the window,fell harmless into the abyss.
"Thou fool!" cried the man who had rescued Julia, addressing him who hadcut away the bridge, "thou shouldst have let him reach the middle, erethou didst strike that blow. Then would he have lain there now," and hepointed downward with his finger into the yawning gulf.
"I do not know," replied the other. "By the Gods! Catiline is near enoughto me, when he is twenty paces distant."
"Thou art right, soldier, and didst well and wisely," said Lucia, hastily."Hadst thou tarried to strike until he reached the middle, thou neverwou
ldst have stricken at all. One foot without that window, he would havecleared that chasm, as easily as I would leap a furrow. But come! come!come! we must not loiter, nor lose one instant. He will not so submit tobe thwarted, I have two horses by the roadside yonder. Their speed aloneshall save us."
"Right! right!" replied the soldier, "lead to them quickly. It is for lifeor death! Hark! he is calling his men now to horse. We shall have a closerun for it, by Hercules!"—
"And we?"—asked one of the veterans—
"Disperse yourselves among the hills, and make your way singly to thecamp. He will not think of you, with us before him!"—
"Farewell! The Gods guide and guard thee!"—
"We shall much need, I fear, their guidance!" answered the legionary,setting off at a swift pace, still bearing Julia, who was now beginning torevive in the fresh air, following hard on Lucia, who ran, literally likethe wind, to the spot where she had tied her own beautiful white Ister,and another horse, a powerful and well-bred Thracian charger, to the stemsof two chesnut trees, in readiness for any fortunes.
Rapidly as the soldier ran, still the light-footed girl outstripped him,and when he reached the sandy road, she had already loosened the reinsfrom the trees to which they had been attached, and held them inreadiness.
"Mount, mount" cried Lucia, "for your life! I will help you to lift her."
"I am better now," exclaimed Julia—"Oh ye Gods! and safe too! I can helpmyself now! and in an instant she was seated behind the stout man-at-arms,and clinging with both hands to his sword belt.
"If you see me no more, as I think you will not, Julia, tell Paullus,Lucia saved you, and—died, for love of him! Now—ride! ride! ride! for yourlife ride!"
And giving their good horses head they sprang forth, plying the rein andscourge, at headlong speed.
As they ascended the first little hillock, they saw the troopers ofCatiline pouring out of the watch-tower gate, and thundering down theslope toward the bridge, with furious shouts, at a rate scarcely inferiorto their own.
They had but one hope of safety. To reach the little bridge and pass itbefore their pursuers should gain it, and cut off their retreat towardtheir friends, whom they knew to be nigh at hand; but to do so appearedwell nigh impossible.
It was a little in their favor that the steeds of Catiline’s troopers hadbeen harassed by a long and unusually rapid night march, while their ownwere fresh and full of spirit; but this advantage was neutralized at leastby the double weight which impeded the progress and bore down the energiesof the noble Thracian courser, bearing Julia and the soldier.
Again it was in their favor that the road on their side the chasm wassomewhat shorter and much more level than that by which Catiline and hisriders were straining every nerve, gallopping on a parallel line with thetremulous and excited fugitives; but this advantage also was diminished bythe fact that they must turn twice at right angles—once to gain thebridge, and once more into the high road beyond it—while the rebels had astraight course, though down a hill side so steep that it might well becalled precipitous.
The day had by this time broken, and either party could see the otherclearly, even to the dresses of the men and the colors of the horses, notabove the sixth part of a mile being occupied by the valley of the streamdividing the two roads.
For life! fire flashed from the flinty road at every bound of the bravecoursers, and blood flew from every whirl of the knotted thong; butgallantly the high-blooded beasts answered it. At every bound they gaineda little on their pursuers, whose horses foamed and labored down theabrupt descent, one or two of them falling and rolling over their riders,so steep was the declivity.
For life! Catiline had gained the head of his party, and his black horsehad outstripped them by several lengths.
If the course had been longer the safety of the fugitives would have beennow certain; but so brief was the space and so little did they gain inthat awful race, that the nicest eye hardly could have calculated whichfirst would reach the bridge.
So secure of his prize was Catiline, that his keen blade was already out,and as he bowed over his charger’s neck, goring his flanks with his bloodyspurs, he shouted in his hoarse demoniacal accents, "Victory andvengeance!"
Still, hopeful and dauntless, the stout legionary gallopped on—"Courage!"he exclaimed, "courage, lady, we shall first cross the bridge!"—
Had Lucia chosen it, with her light weight and splendid horsemanship, shemight easily have left Julia and the soldier, easily have crossed thedefile in advance of Catiline, easily have escaped his vengeance. But shereined in white Ister, and held him well in hand behind the others,muttering to herself in low determined accents, "She shall be saved, butmy time is come!"
Suddenly there was a hasty shout of alarm from the troopers on the otherside, "Hold, Catiline! Rein up! Rein up!" and several of the foremostriders drew in their horses. Within a minute all except Catiline hadhalted.
"They see our friends! they are close at hand! We are saved! by theImmortal Gods! we are saved!" cried the legionary, with a cry of triumph.
But in reply, across the narrow gorge, came the hoarse roar of Catiline,above the din of his thundering gallop.—"By Hades! Death! or vengeance!"
"Ride! ride!" shrieked Lucia from behind, "Ride, I say, fool! you are_not_ saved! He will not halt for a beat when revenge spurs him! For yourlife! ride!"
It was a fearful crisis.
The Thracian charger reached the bridge. The hollow arch resounded butonce under his clanging hoofs—the second stride cleared it. He wheeleddown the road, and Julia, pale as death, whose eyes had been closed in theagony of that fearful expectation, unclosed them at the legionary’s joyousshout, but closed them again in terror and despair with a faint shriek, asthey met the grim countenance of Catiline, distorted with every hellishpassion, and splashed with blood gouts from his reeking courser’s side,thrust forward parallel nearly to the black courser’s foamy jaws—bothnearly within arm’s length of her, as it appeared to her excited fancy.
"We are lost! we are lost!" she screamed.
"We are saved! we are saved!" shouted the soldier as he saw coming up theroad at a gallop to meet them, the bronze casques and floating horse-haircrests, and scarlet cloaks, of a whole squadron of legionary cavalry,arrayed beneath a golden eagle—the head of their column scarcely distantthree hundred yards.
But they were not saved yet, nor would have been—for Catiline’s horse wasclose upon their croupe and his uplifted blade almost flashed overthem—when, with a wild cry, Lucia dashed her white Ister at full speed, asshe crossed the bridge, athwart the counter of black Erebus.
The thundering speed at which the black horse came down the hill, and thesuperior weight of himself and his rider, hurled the white palfrey and thebrave girl headlong; but his stride was checked, and, blown as he was, hestumbled, and rolled over, horse and man.
A minute was enough to save them, and before Lucia had regained her feet,the ranks of the new comers had opened to receive the fugitives, and hadhalted around them, in some slight confusion.
"The Gods be blessed for ever!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands, andraising her eyes to heaven. "I have saved her!"
"And lost thyself, thrice miserable fool!" hissed a hoarse well knownvoice in her ear, as a heavy hand seized her by the shoulder, and twistedher violently round.
She stood face to face with Catiline, and met his horrid glare of hatewith a glance prouder than his own and brighter. She smiled triumphantly,as she said in a clear high voice,
"I have saved her!"
"For which, take thy reward, in this, and this, and this!"
And with the words he dealt her three stabs, the least of which wasmortal; but, even in that moment of dread passion, with fiendish ingenuityhe endeavored to avoid giving her a wound that should be directly fatal.
"There writhe, and howl, ’till slow death relieve you!"
"Meet end to such beginning!" cried the unhappy girl. "Adulterous parent!incestuous seducer! kindred s
layer! ha! ha! ha! ha!" and with a wild laughshe fell to the ground and lay with her eyes closed, motionless and forthe moment senseless.
But he, with his child’s blood smoking on his hand, shook his sword aloftfiercely against the legionaries, and leaping on his black horse which hadarisen from the ground unhurt by its fall, gallopped across the bridge;and plunging through the underwood into the deep chesnut forest was lostto the view of the soldiers, who had spurred up in pursuit of him, thatthey abandoned it ere long as hopeless.
It was not long that Lucia lay oblivious of her sufferings. A sense offresh coolness on her brow, and the checked flow of the blood, whichgushed from those cruel wounds, were the first sensations of which shebecame aware.
But, as she opened her eyes, they met well known and loving faces; andsoft hands were busy about her bleeding gashes; and hot tears were fallingon her poor pallid face from eyes that seldom wept.
Julia was kneeling at her side, Paullus Arvina was bending over her inspeechless gratitude, and sorrow; and the stern cavaliers of the legion,unused to any soft emotions, stood round holding their chargers’ bridleswith frowning brows, and lips quivering with sentiments, which few of themhad experienced since the far days of their gentler boyhood.
"Oh! happy," she exclaimed, in a soft low tone, "how happy it is so todie! and in dying to see thee, Paullus."
"Oh! no! no! no!" cried Julia, "you must not, shall not die! my friend, mysister! O, tell her, Paullus, that she will not die, that she will yet bespared to our prayers, our love, our gratitude, our veneration."
But Paullus spoke not; a soldier, and a man used to see death in allshapes in the arena, he knew that there was no hope, and, had his lifedepended on it, he could not, at that moment have deceived her.
Little, however, cared the dying girl for that; even if she had heard orcomprehended the appeal. Her ears, her mind, were full of other thoughts,and a bright beautiful irradiation played over her wan lips and ashyfeatures, as she cried joyously, although her voice was very tremulous andweak.
"Paullus, do you hear that? her friend! her sister! Paullus, Paullus, doyou hear that? Julia calls me her friend—me, me her sister! me thedisgraced—"
"Peace! peace! Dear Lucia! you must not speak such words!" said Paullus."Be your past errors what they may—and who am I, that I should talk oferrors?—this pure high love—this delicate devotion—this death mostheroical and glorious no! no! I cannot—" and the strong man bowed his headupon his hands, and burst into an agony of tears and passion.
No revelation from on high had taught those poor Romans, that ’joy shallbe in heaven, over the sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety andnine just persons that need no repentance.’
Yet groping darkly on their way by the dim lights of nature andphilosophy, they had perceived, at least, that it is harder far for onecorrupted from her very childhood, corrupted by the very parents whoshould have guided, with all her highest qualities of mind and bodyperverted studiously till they had hardened into vices, to raise herselferect at once from the slough of sensuality and sin, and spring aloft, asthe butterfly transmuted from the grub, into the purity and loveliness ofvirtue—than for one, who hath known no trial, suffered no temptation, tohold the path of rectitude unswerving.
And Julia, whose high soul and native delicacy were all incapable ofcomprehending the nature, much less the seductions, of such degradation,as that poor victim of parental villainy had undergone, saw clearly andunderstood at a glance, the difficulty, the gloriousness, the wonder ofthat beautiful regeneration.
"No, no. Dear Lucia, dear sister, if you love that name," she said insoothing tones, holding her cold hands clasped in her own quiveringfingers, "indeed, indeed you must not think or speak of yourself thus.Your sins, if you have sinned, are the sins of others, your virtues andyour excellence, all, all your own. I have heard many times of women, whohave fallen from high virtue, in spite of noble teachings, in spite ofhigh examples, and whom neither love nor shame could rescue frompollution—but never, never, did I hear of one who so raised herself,alone, unaided, in spite of evil teaching, in spite the atrocity ofothers, in spite of infamous examples, to purity, devotion such as thine!But, fear not, Lucia. Fear not, dearest girl, you shall not die, believe—"
"I do not fear, I desire it," said the dying girl, who was growing weakerand fainter every moment. "To a life, and a love like mine, both guilty,both unhappy, death is a refuge, not a terror; and if there be, as youbelieve, who are so wise and virtuous, a place beyond the grave, wheresouls parted here on earth, may meet and dwell in serene and tranquilbliss, perhaps, I say, perhaps, Julia, this death may compensate thatlife—this blood may wash away the sin, the shame, the pollution."
"Believe it, O believe it!" exclaimed Julia earnestly. "How else shouldthe Gods be all-great and all-wise; since vice triumphs often _here_, andvirtue pines in sorrow. Be sure, I say, be sure of it, there is a placehereafter, where all sorrows shall be turned to joy, all sufferingscompensated, all inequalities made even. Be sure of that, dear Lucia."
"I am sure of it," she replied, a brighter gleam of pleasure crossing herfeatures, on which the hues of death were fast darkening. "I am sure of it_now_. I think my mind grows clearer, as my body dies away. I see—Isee—there _is_ God! Julia—there is an hereafter—an eternity—rest for theweary, joy for the woful! yes! yes! I see—I feel it. We shall meet, Julia.We shall meet, Paullus, Paullus!" And she sank back fainting andoverpowered upon Julia’s bosom.
In a moment or two, however, she opened her eyes again, but it was clearthat the spirit was on the point of taking its departure.
"I am going!" she said in a very low voice. "I am going. His sword wasmore merciful than its master.—Bury me in a nameless grave. Let no stonetell the tale of unhappy, guilty Lucia. But come sometimes, Julia,Paullus, and look where I lie; and sometimes—will you not sometimesremember Lucia?"
"You shall live in our souls forever!" replied Julia, stooping down tokiss her.
"In your arms, Paullus, in your arms! will you not let me, Julia? ’Tweresweet to die in your arms, Paullus."—
"How can you ask?" cried Julia, who scarce could speak for the tears andsobs, which almost choked her.
"Here, Paullus, take her, gently, gently."
"Oh! sweet—oh! happy!" she murmured, as she leaned her head against hisheart, and fixed her glazing eyes upon his features, and clasped his handwith her poor dying fingers. "She told you, Paullus, that for your love Idied to save her!"
"She did—she did—dear, dearest Lucia!"—
"Kiss me," she whispered; "I am going very fast. Kiss me on the brow,Paullus, where years ago you kissed me, when I was yet an innocent child."Then, fancying that he hesitated, she cried, "you will let him kiss me,now, will you not, Julia? He is yours"—
"Oh! kiss her, kiss her, Paullus," exclaimed Julia eagerly, "how could youfancy, Lucia, that I should wish otherwise? kiss her lips, not her brow,Paullus Arvina."
"Kiss me first thou, dear Julia. I _may_ call you dear."
"Dear Lucia, dearest sister!"
And the pure girl leaned over and pressed a long kiss on the cold lips ofthe unhappy, guilty, regenerated being, whose death had won for her honor,and life, and happiness.
"Now, Paullus, now," cried Lucia, raising herself from his bosom by a lastfeeble effort, and stretching out her arms, "now, ere it be too late!"—
He bowed down to her and kissed her lips, and she clasped her arms closeabout his neck, and returned that last chaste caress, murmuring "Paullus,mine own in death, mine own, own Paullus!"—
There was a sudden rigor, a passing tremulous spasm, which ran through herwhole frame for a moment—her arms clasped his neck more tightly thanbefore, and then released their hold, all listless and unconscious—herhead fell back, with the eyes glazed and visionless, and the white lipshalf open.
"She is dead, Julia!" exclaimed Paullus, who was not ashamed to weep atthat sad close of so young and sorrowful a life, "dead for our happiness!"
"
Hush! hush!" cried Julia, who was still gazing on the face of thedead—"There is a change—see! see! how beautiful, how tranquil!"—
And in truth a sweet placid smile had settled about the pallid mouth, andnothing can be conceived more lovely than the calm, holy, pure expressionwhich breathed from every lineament of the lifeless countenance.
"She is gone, peace to her manes."
"She is at rest, now, Paullus, she is happy!" murmured Julia. "Howexcellent she was, how true, how brave, how devoted! Oh! yes! I doubt not,she is happy."
"The Gods grant it!" he replied fervently. "But I have yet a duty," anddrawing his short straight sword he severed one long dark curl from thelifeless head, and raising it aloft in his left hand, while with the righthe pointed heavenward the gleaming steel, "Ye Gods!" he cried, "supernaland infernal! and ye spirits and powers, shades of the mighty dead! Hearearth, and heaven, and thou Tartarus! by this good steel, by this righthand, in presence of this sacred dead, I swear, I devote Catiline and hishated head to vengeance! By this sword may he perish; may this hair besteeped in his lifeblood; may he know himself, when dying, the victim ofmy vengeance—may dogs eat his body—and his unburied spirit know neitherTartarus nor Elysium!"—
It was strange, but as he ceased from that wild imprecation, a faint flashof lightning veined the remote horizon, and a low clap of thunder rumbledafar off, echoing among the hills—perchance the last of a storm, unheardbefore and unnoticed by the distracted minds of the spectators of thatscene.
But the superstitious Romans accepted it as an omen.
"Thunder!"—cried one.
"The Gods have spoken!"—
"I hail the omen!" exclaimed Paullus, sheathing his sword, and thrustingthe tress of hair into his bosom. "By my hand shall he perish!"
And thenceforth, it was believed generally by the soldiers, that in thecoming struggle Catiline was destined to fall, and by the hand of PaulArvina.