CHAPTER XI
STOLEN WATERS
The broken column of one of the buildings destroyed in the great fire ofRome, and not yet restored, was glowing crimson in the setting sun.Beneath its base, the Tiber was gliding gently on towards the sea. Therewas a subdued hum even in the streets of the Imperial City that denotedhow the burden and heat of the day were now past; and the languor of thehour seemed to pervade even those who were compelled to toil on in thestruggle for bread, and who could only in imagination abandon themselvesto repose. On a fragment of the ruin sat Esca, gazing intently on thewater as it stole by. To all appearance his listless and dreamy mood wasunconscious of surrounding objects, yet his attitude was that of oneprepared to start into action at a moment's notice; and though his armswere folded and his head bent down, his ear was watching eagerly to catchthe faintest sound.
It is a patience-wearing process, that same waiting for a woman; and underthe most favourable circumstances is productive of much irritation,disappointment, and disgust. In the first place a man is invariably toosoon, and this knowingly and as it were with _malice prepense_. Takingtime thus by the forelock, delays his flight considerably, and indeedreduces his pace to the slowest possible crawl; so that when the appointedmoment does arrive, it seems to the watcher that it has been past aconsiderable period, and that his vigil should be already over, when inreality it is only just begun. Then, as the minutes steal on, come thedifferent misgivings and suspicions which only arise on such occasions,and which in his right senses the self-torturer would be incapable ofharbouring. Circumstances which, when the appointment was made, seemedexpressly adapted to further his designs, now change to insurmountabledifficulties, or take their place as links in a chain of deception whichhe persuades himself has been forged with unheard-of duplicity, expresslyfor his discomfiture. He thinks badly of everyone, worst of all of her,whose unpardonable fault is that she is now some fifty seconds late. Thencomes a revulsion of feeling, and his heart leaps to his mouth, foryonder, emerging on the long perspective, is a female figure obviouslyadvancing this way. The expected object is tall, slim, pliant, and walkswith the firm free step of a deer on the heather. The advancing shape isshort, fat, awkward, and waddles in its gait; nevertheless, it is not tillit has reached within arm's length that he will allow himself to beconvinced of his disappointment. If its ears are pretty quick, theunoffending figure may well be shocked at the deep and startlingexecration which its presence calls forth. Then begins another phase ofdespondency, humiliation, and bitter self-contempt, through all whichpleasant changes of feeling the old feverish longing remains as strong asever. At last she comes round the corner in good earnest, with the well-known smile in her eyes, the well-known greeting on her lips, and heforgets in an instant, as if they had never been, his anxiety, his anger,his reproaches, all but the presence that brings light to his life andgladness to his heart once more.
Esca rose impatiently at intervals, walked a few paces to and fro, satdown again, and threw small fragments of the ruin into the water.Presently a figure, draped in black and closely veiled, moved down to theriver's side near where the Briton sat, and began filling a pitcher fromthe stream. It could hardly have passed the column without seeing him, yetdid it seem unconscious of his presence; and who could tell how the heartmight be beating within the bosom, or the cheek blushing behind the veil?That veil was lifted, however, with an exclamation of surprise, when Escastooped over her to take the pitcher from her hand, and Mariamne's cheekturned paler now than it had been even on the memorable night when herescued her from the grasp of Spado and his fellow-bacchanals. He, too,murmured some vague words of astonishment at finding her here. If theywere honest, for whom could he have been waiting so impatiently? and it ispossible, besides, Mariamne might have been a little disappointed had shebeen allowed to fill her pitcher from the Tiber for herself.
The Jewess had been thinking about him a good deal more than she intended,a good deal more than she knew, for the last two days. It is strange howvery insensibly such thoughts gain growth and strength without care orculture. There are plants we prune and water every day which never reachmore than a sickly and stunted vitality after all, and there are othersthat we trample down, cut over, tear up by the very roots, whichnevertheless attain such vigour and luxuriance that our walls are coveredby their tendrils, and our dwellings pervaded by their fragrance.
Mariamne was no bigoted daughter of Judah, for whom the stranger was anoutcast because a heathen. Her constant intercourse with Calchas hadtaught her nobler truths than she had derived from the traditions of herfathers. And with all her pride of race and national predilections, shehad imbibed those principles of charity and toleration which formed thegroundwork of a new religion, destined to shed its light upon all thenations of the earth.
It was not precisely as a brother, though, that Mariamne had yet broughtherself to regard the handsome British slave. They were soon conversinghappily together. The embarrassment of meeting had disappeared with thefirst affectation of surprise. It was not long before he told her howtired he had been of watching by the broken column at the riverside.
"How could you know I should come here?" asked the girl with a look ofinfinite simplicity and candour, though she must have remembered all thetime, that she had not scrupled to hint at the daily practice in course ofconversation with Calchas, on the night when Esca brought her safely home.
"I hoped it," he replied, with a smile. "I have been a hunter, you know,and have learned that the shyest and wildest of animals seek the watersideat sunset. I was here yesterday, and waited two long hours in vain."
She glanced quickly at him, but withdrew her eyes immediately, while theblood mounted to her pale face.
"Did you expect to see me?" she asked in a trembling voice; "and I neverleft the house the whole of yesterday! Oh, how I wish I had known it!"
Then she stopped in painful embarrassment, as having said too much. Heappeared not to notice her confusion. He seemed to have some confession tomake on his own part--something he hardly dared to tell her, yet which hishonest nature could not consent should be withheld. At last he said withan effort--
"You know what I am! My time is not my own, my very limbs belong toanother. It matters not that the master is kind, good, and considerate.Mariamne, I am a slave!"
"I know it," she answered, very gently, with a loving pity beaming in herdark eyes. "My kinsman Calchas told me as much after you went away."
He drew a long breath as if relieved.
"And yet you wished to see me again?" he asked, while a gleam of happinessbrightened his face.
"Why not?" she replied, with a kind smile. "Though that hand is a slave's,it struck my enemy down with the force of a hundred warriors; though thatarm is a slave's, it bore me home with the care and tenderness of a woman.Ah! tell me not of slavery when the limbs are strong, and the heart isbrave and pure. Though the body be chained with iron fetters, what matterso long as the spirit is free? Esca, you do not believe I think the worseof you because you are a heathen and a slave?"
Her voice was very soft and low while she spoke his name. No voice hadever sounded so sweetly in his ears before. A new, strange sense ofhappiness seemed to pervade his whole being, yet he had never felt hissituation so galling and unendurable as now.
"I would not have you think the worse of me," he answered eagerly, "uponany account. Listen, Mariamne. I was taken captive in war and brought herewith a hundred others to Rome. We were set up like cattle in the slave-market. Like cattle also we were purchased, one by one, by those whoesteemed themselves practised judges of such human wares. I was bought byCaius Lucius Licinius at the price of a yoke of oxen, or a couple ofchariot-horses. Bought and sold like a beast of the field, and driven hometo my new master!"
He spoke with a scorn all the more bitter from having been repressed solong. Yet he kept back and smothered the indignation rising within him.This was the first ear that had ever been open to h
is wrongs, and thetemptation was strong to pour them freely forth to so interested andpartial a listener. To do him justice, he refrained from the indulgence.He had been taught from childhood that it was weak and womanish tocomplain; and the man had not forgotten the lessons of the boy.
Her gentle voice again interposed in soothing and consoling accents.
"But he is kind," she said, "kind and considerate--you told me so yourself.I could not bear to think him otherwise. Indeed, Esca, it would make mevery unhappy to know that you"--
Here she broke off suddenly, and snatched up the pitcher he had beenfilling for her with such haste as to spill half its contents over hisdress and her own.
"There is someone watching us! Farewell!" she whispered in a breathless,frightened voice, and hurried away, turning her head once, however, tocast a glance over her shoulder, and then hastened home faster thanbefore. Esca looked after her while she continued in sight, eitherunconscious of their vicinity, or at all events not noticing a pair ofbold black eyes that were fixed upon him with an expression of arch andludicrous surprise. He turned angrily, however, upon the intruder, whenthe black eyes had gazed their fill, and their owner burst out into aloud, merry, and mocking laugh.