The Last Days of Pompeii

  Chapter V

  THE CELL OF THE PRISONER AND THE DEN OF THE DEAD. GRIEF UNCONSCIOUS OFHORROR.

  STUNNED by his reprieve, doubting that he was awake, Glaucus had beenled by the officers of the arena into a small cell within the walls ofthe theatre. They threw a loose robe over his form, and crowded round incongratulation and wonder. There was an impatient and fretful crywithout the cell; the throng gave way, and the blind girl, led by somegentler hand, flung herself at the feet of Glaucus.

  'It is I who have saved thee,' she sobbed; now let me die!'

  'Nydia, my child!--my preserver!'

  'Oh, let me feel thy touch--thy breath! Yes, yes, thou livest! We arenot too late! That dread door, methought it would never yield! andCalenus--oh! his voice was as the dying wind among tombs--we had towait--gods! it seemed hours ere food and wine restored to him somethingof strength. But thou livest! thou livest yet! And I--I have savedthee!'

  This affecting scene was soon interrupted by the event just described.

  'The mountain! the earthquake!' resounded from side to side. Theofficers fled with the rest; they left Glaucus and Nydia to savethemselves as they might.

  As the sense of the dangers around them flashed on the Athenian, hisgenerous heart recurred to Olinthus. He, too, was reprieved from thetiger by the hand of the gods; should he be left to a no less fataldeath in the neighboring cell? Taking Nydia by the hand, Glaucushurried across the passages; he gained the den of the Christian! Hefound Olinthus kneeling and in prayer.

  'Arise! arise! my friend,' he cried. 'Save thyself, and fly! See!Nature is thy dread deliverer!' He led forth the bewildered Christian,and pointed to a cloud which advanced darker and darker, disgorgingforth showers of ashes and pumice stones--and bade him hearken to thecries and trampling rush of the scattered crowd.

  'This is the hand of God--God be praised!' said Olinthus, devoutly.

  'Fly! seek thy brethren!--Concert with them thy escape. Farewell!'

  Olinthus did not answer, neither did he mark the retreating form of hisfriend. High thoughts and solemn absorbed his soul: and in theenthusiasm of his kindling heart, he exulted in the mercy of God ratherthan trembled at the evidence of His power.

  At length he roused himself, and hurried on, he scarce knew whither.

  The open doors of a dark, desolate cell suddenly appeared on his path;through the gloom within there flared and flickered a single lamp; andby its light he saw three grim and naked forms stretched on the earth indeath. His feet were suddenly arrested; for, amidst the terror of thatdrear recess--the spoliarium of the arena--he heard a low voice callingon the name of Christ!

  He could not resist lingering at that appeal: he entered the den, andhis feet were dabbled in the slow streams of blood that gushed from thecorpses over the sand.

  'Who,' said the Nazarene, 'calls upon the son of God?'

  No answer came forth; and turning round, Olinthus beheld, by the lightof the lamp, an old grey-headed man sitting on the floor, and supportingin his lap the head of one of the dead. The features of the dead manwere firmly and rigidly locked in the last sleep; but over the lip thereplayed a fierce smile--not the Christian's smile of hope, but the darksneer of hatred and defiance. Yet on the face still lingered thebeautiful roundness of early youth. The hair curled thick and glossyover the unwrinkled brow; and the down of manhood but slightly shadedthe marble of the hueless cheek. And over this face bent one of suchunutterable sadness--of such yearning tenderness--of such fond and suchdeep despair! The tears of the old man fell fast and hot, but he didnot feel them; and when his lips moved, and he mechanically uttered theprayer of his benign and hopeful faith, neither his heart nor his senseresponded to the words: it was but the involuntary emotion that brokefrom the lethargy of his mind. His boy was dead, and had died forhim!--and the old man's heart was broken!

  'Medon!' said Olinthus, pityingly, 'arise, and fly! God is forth uponthe wings of the elements! The New Gomorrah is doomed!--Fly, ere thefires consume thee!'

  'He was ever so full of life!--he cannot be dead! Come hither!--placeyour hand on his heart!--sure it beats yet?'

  'Brother, the soul has fled! We will remember it in our prayers! Thoucanst not reanimate the dumb clay! Come, come--hark! while I speak, yoncrashing walls!--hark! yon agonizing cries! Not a moment is to belost!--Come!'

  'I hear nothing!' said Medon, shaking his grey hair. 'The poor boy, hislove murdered him!'

  'Come! come! forgive this friendly force.'

  'What! Who could sever the father from the son?' And Medon clasped thebody tightly in his embrace, and covered it with passionate kisses.'Go!' said he, lifting up his face for one moment. 'Go!--we must bealone!'

  'Alas!' said the compassionate Nazarene, 'Death hath severed yealready!'

  The old man smiled very calmly. 'No, no, no!' muttered, his voicegrowing lower with each word--'Death has been more kind!'

  With that his head drooped on His son's breast--his arms relaxed theirgrasp. Olinthus caught him by the hand--the pulse had ceased to beat!The last words of the father were the words of truth--Death had beenmore kind!

  Meanwhile Glaucus and Nydia were pacing swiftly up the perilous andfearful streets. The Athenian had learned from his preserver that Ionewas yet in the house of Arbaces. Thither he fled, to release--to saveher! The few slaves whom the Egyptian had left at his mansion when hehad repaired in long procession to the amphitheatre, had been able tooffer no resistance to the armed band of Sallust; and when afterwardsthe volcano broke forth, they had huddled together, stunned andfrightened, in the inmost recesses of the house. Even the tallEthiopian had forsaken his post at the door; and Glaucus (who left Nydiawithout--the poor Nydia, jealous once more, even in such an hour!)passed on through the vast hall without meeting one from whom to learnthe chamber of Ione. Even as he passed, however, the darkness thatcovered the heavens increased so rapidly that it was with difficulty hecould guide his steps. The flower-wreathed columns seemed to reel andtremble; and with every instant he heard the ashes fall cranchingly intothe roofless peristyle. He ascended to the upper rooms--breathless hepaced along, shouting out aloud the name of Ione; and at length heheard, at the end of a gallery, a voice--her voice, in wondering reply!To rush forward--to shatter the door--to seize Ione in his arms--tohurry from the mansion--seemed to him the work of an instant! Scarcehad he gained the spot where Nydia was, than he heard steps advancingtowards the house, and recognized the voice of Arbaces, who had returnedto seek his wealth and Ione ere he fled from the doomed Pompeii. But sodense was already the reeking atmosphere, that the foes saw not eachother, though so near--save that, dimly in the gloom, Glaucus caught themoving outline of the snowy robes of the Egyptian.

  They hastened onward--those three. Alas! whither? They now saw not astep before them--the blackness became utter. They were encompassedwith doubt and horror!--and the death he had escaped seemed to Glaucusonly to have changed its form and augmented its victims.