*CHAPTER IX*
*THE SNARE OF THE FOWLER*
While these events transpired in Rome, a feverish activity prevailed inCastel San Angelo. In day time the huge mausoleum presented the samesullen and forbidding aspect as ever but without revealing a trace ofthe preparations, which were being pushed to a close within. Undercover of night the breaches had been repaired; huge balistae andcatapults had been placed in position on the ramparts, and the fortresshad been rendered almost impregnable to assault, as in the time ofVitiges, the Goth.
Events were swiftly approaching the fatal crisis. While Otto languishedin the toils of Stephania, whose society became more and moreindispensable to him, while with pernicious flattery Benilo closed theear of the king to the cries of his German subjects and estranged himmore and more from his leaders, his country, and his hosts, whileEckhardt vainly strove to arouse Otto to the perils lurking in his utterabandonment to Roman councillors and Roman polity, the Senator of Romehad introduced into Hadrian's tomb a sufficiently strong body of men,not only to withstand a siege, but to vanquish any force, howeversuperior to his own, to frustrate any assault, however ably directed.While the German contingents remained on Roman soil he dared not engagehis enemy in a last death-grapple for the supremacy over the SevenHills, which Otto's war-worn veterans from the banks of the Elbe andVistula had twice wrested from him. The final draw in the great gamewas at hand. On this day the envoys of the Electors would arrive inRome to demand Otto's immediate return to his German crown-lands, whoseeastern borders were sorely menaced by the ever recurring inroads ofPoles and Magyars. In the event of Otto's refusing compliance with theElectoral mandate, Count Ludeger of the Palatinate was to relieveEckhardt of his command and to lead the German contingents back acrossthe Alps.
But it was no part of the Senator's policy to permit Otto to return.For while there remained breath in the youth, Rome remained the FataMorgana of his dreams, and Crescentius remained the vassal ofTheophano's son. He could never hope to come into his own as long asthe life of that boy-king overshadowed his own. Therefore everypressure must be brought to bear upon the headstrong youth, to defy theElectoral mandate, to rebuff, to offend the Electoral envoys. Then, thegreat German host recalled, Eckhardt relieved of his command, Ottoisolated In a hostile camp, Stephania should cry the watchword for hisdoom. The inconsiderable guard remaining would be easily vanquished andthe son of Theophano, utterly abandoned and deserted, should fall aneasy prey to the Senator's schemes, a welcome hostage in the dungeons ofCastel San Angelo, for him to deal with according to the dictates of thehour. The task to urge Otto to this fatal step had been assigned toBenilo, but Crescentius was prepared for all emergencies arising fromany unforeseen turn of affairs. He had gone too far to recede. If nowhe quailed before the impending issue, the mighty avalanche he hadstarted would hurl him to swift and certain doom.
Since that fateful hour, when in a moment of unaccountable weaknessCrescentius had listened to Benilo's serpent-wisdom, and had arrayed hisown wife against the German King, the Senator of Rome had seen butlittle of Stephania. The preparations for the impending revolt of theRomans, in whose fickle minds his emissaries found a fertile soil forthe seed of treason and discontent, engaged him night and day. Heseemed present at once on the ramparts, in the galleries and in thevaults of his formidable keep. But when chance for a fleeting momentbrought the Senator face to face with his consort, the meaning-fraughtsmile on the lips of Stephania seemed to assure him that everything wasgoing well. Otto was lost to the world. Heaven and earth seemed alikeblotted out for him in her presence. Together they continued to strollamong the ruins, while Stephania poured strange tales into the youth'sear, tales which crept to his brain, like the songs of the Sirens thatlure the mariner among the crimson flowers of their abode. And Eckhardtdespised the Romans too heartily to fear them, and even therein herevealed the heel of Achilles.
If the present day was gained, the Senator's diplomacy would carryvictory from the field, and Benilo had well plied his subtle arts. YetCrescentius was resolved to attend in person the audience of the envoys.He would with his own ears hear the King's reply to the Electors. IfBenilo had played him false? He hardly knew why a lingering suspicionof the Chamberlain crept into his mind at all. But he shook himselffree of the thought, which had for a moment clouded the future with itssombre shadow.
As the Senator of Rome hurriedly traversed the galleries of the vastmausoleum, he suddenly found himself face to face with Stephania.
Her face was pale and her eyes revealed traces of tears.
At the first words she uttered, Crescentius paused, surprise andgladness in his eyes.
"We are well met, my lord," she said, after a brief greeting, anunwonted tremor vibrating in her tones. "I have sought you in vain allthe morning. Release me from the task you have imposed upon me! Icannot go on! I am not further equal to it. It is a game unworthy ofyou or me!"
The surprise at her words for a moment choked the Senator's utteranceand almost struck him dumb.
"Imposed upon?" he replied. "I thought you had accepted the missionfreely. Is the boy rebellious?"
"On the contrary! Were he so, perhaps I should not now prefer thisrequest. He is but too pliant."
"He has made your task an easy one," Crescentius nodded meaningly.
"He has laid his whole soul bare to me; not a thought therein, ever soremote, which I have not sounded. I can not stand before him. My browis crimsoned with the flush of shame. He gave me truth for alie,--friendship for deceit. He deserves a better fate than the Senatorof Rome has decreed for him."
Crescentius breathed hard.
"The weakness does you honour," he replied after a pause. "Perchance Ishould have spared you the task. I placed him in your hands, because Idared trust no one else. And now it is too late--too late!"
"It is not too late," replied Stephania.
Crescentius pointed silently to the ramparts, where a score of men wereplacing a huge catapult in position.
"It is not too late!" she repeated, her cheeks alternately flushing andpaling. "To-day, my lord informed me, the King stands at the Rubicon.To-day he must choose, If it is to be Rome, if Aix-la-Chapelle. If heelects to return to the gray gloom of his northern skies, to the sombretwilight of his northern forests, let him go, my lord,--let him go!Much misery will be thereby averted,--much heart-rending despair!"
Crescentius had listened in silence to Stephania's pleading. There was abrief pause, during which only his heavy breathing was heard.
"His choice is made," he replied at last in a firm tone.
"I do not understand you, my lord!"
The Senator regarded his wife with singularly fixed intentness.
"The toils of the Siren Rome are too firm to be snapped asunder like aspider's web."
She covered her face with her hands. Her breath came and went withquick, convulsive gasps.
"It is shameful--shameful--" she sobbed. "Had I never lent myself tothe unworthy task! How could you conceive it, my lord, how could you?But it was not your counsel! May his right hand wither, who whisperedthe thought into your ear!"
Crescentius winced. He felt ill at ease.
"Is it so hard to play the confessor to yonder wingless cherub?" he saidwith a forced smile.
Stephania straightened herself to her full height.
"When I undertook the shameless task, I believed the son of Theophano atyrant, an oppressor, his hands stained with the best of Roman blood!Such your lying Roman chroniclers had painted him. I gloried in thethought, to humble a barbarian, whose vain-glorious, boastful insolencemeditated new outrages upon us Romans. Yet his is a purer, a loftierspirit, than is to be found in all this Rome of yours! Were it notnobler to acknowledge him your liege, than to destroy him by woman'swiles and smiles?"
"I cannot answer you on these points," Crescentius spoke after a pause,during which the olive tints of his countenance had faded to ash
en hues."I regard those dreams, whose mock-halo has blinded you, in a differentlight. It is the wise man who rules the state,--it is the dreamer whodashes it to atoms. We have gone too far! I could not releaseyou,--even if I would!"
Stephania breathed hard. Her hands were tightly clasped.
"It can bring glory to neither you, nor Rome," she said in a pleadingvoice. "Let him depart in peace, my lord, and I will thank you to mydying hour!"
"How know you he wishes to depart?"
"How know you he wishes to remain?"
"His destiny is Rome. Here he will live--and here he will die!" theSenator spoke with slow emphasis. "But we have not yet agreed upon thesignal," he continued with cold and merciless voice. "After thedeparture of the envoys you will lead the King into his favouritehaunts, the labyrinth of the Minotaurus, to the little temple ofNeptune. There I will in person await him. When you see the gleam ofspearpoints in the thickets, you will wave your kerchief with the cry:'For Rome and Crescentius.' No harm shall befall the youth,--unless heresist. He shall have honourable conduct to the guest chamber, preparedfor him,--below."
And Crescentius pointed downward with the thumb of his right hand.
Stephania's bosom rose and fell in quick respiration.
"I am not accustomed to prefer a request and be denied," she saidproudly, her face the pallor of death. "Is this your last word, mylord?"
Crescentius met her gaze unflinchingly.
"It is my last," he replied. "Yet one choice remains with you: You maybetray the King,--or the Senator of Rome!"
He turned to go, but something whispered to him to stay. At that momenthe despised himself for having imposed upon his wife a task, againstwhich Stephania's loftier nature had rebelled and he inwardly cursed thehour which had ripened the seed and him, who had sown it. Gazing afterStephania's retreating form, all the love he bore her surged up into hisheart as he cried her name.
Arrested by his voice, Stephania turned and paused for a moment swift asthought, but in that moment she seemed to read the very depths of hissoul and the utter futility of further entreaty. Without a word sheascended the spiral stairway leading to the upper galleries andre-entered her own apartments, while with long and wistful gazeCrescentius followed the vanishing form of his wife.
And it seemed as if the Senator's prophecy was to be fulfilled. At thereading of the Electoral manifesto, Otto had been seized with anuncontrollable fit of rage. He had torn the document to shreds and castits fragments at the feet of the Bavarian duke, who acted as spokesmanfor his colleagues, the dukes of Thuringia, Saxony and Westphalia.Neither the arguments of the Electoral envoys, nor the violentdenunciations of Eckhardt, who aired his hatred of Rome in languagenever before heard in the presence of a sovereign, could stand beforeBenilo's eloquent pleading. On his knees the Chamberlain implored theKing not to abandon Rome and his beloved Romans. Vainly the Germandukes pointed to the dangers besetting the realm, vainly to theinadequate defences of the Eastern March. With a majesty far above hisyears, Otto declared his supreme will to make Rome the capital of theearth, and to restore the pristine majesty of the Holy Roman Empire.Rome was his destiny. Here he would live, and here he would die. Romewas pacified. He required no longer the presence of the army. LetBavaria and Saxony defend their own boundaries as best they might; letthe Count Palatine lead his veteran hosts across the Alps. He wouldremain. This his reply to the Electors.
On the eve of that eventful day the German dukes departed, while theCount Palatine proceeded to Tivoli, to prepare the great armament fortheir winter march across the Alps. It had come to pass as Crescentiushad predicted. The die was cast. Rome, the Siren, had conquered.
In the night following these events, Rome in her various quarterspresented a strange aspect of secret activity.
In the fortresses of the Cavalli and Caetani lights flitted to and frothrough the gratings in the main court. Benilo, the Chamberlain, mightbe seen stealing from the postern gate. Towards the ruins of theColiseum men whose dress bespoke them of the lowest rank, were seencreeping from lanes and alleys. From these ruins at a later hour,glided again the form of the Grand Chamberlain. Later yet,--when a graylight is breaking in the east, the gates of Rome, by St. John Lateran,are open. Benilo is conversing with the Roman guard. The mountains aredim with a mournful and chilling haze when Benilo enters the palace onthe Aventine.