CHAPTER XXIX
IN EXTREMIS
Marsyas left the promontory at once. He had hired one of the publicpassenger boats to cross from Baiae to Misenum and the boatman hadwaited for the return of his fare.
Many went as he was going, but they were patricians singly and ingroups that passed him, with sober faces and without a word to eachother. He recognized senators, aediles, consuls, duumvirs, praetors,legates all hurrying toward the landing. All noble Misenum seemedsuddenly to have determined on an exodus. An anxious and distressedcompany they were, and had Marsyas' own brain been less hot with anger,he might have meditated on the meaning of it all.
By the time he reached the bay, the sunset-reddened water was coveredwith light-running coasters, by the signs on aplustre or vexillum, afleet of patrician craft making across the bay to Neapolis, or scuddingfor the open sea and Ostia. He saw one or two vessels approachingMisenum, hailed by departing ones, and, after a colloquy, turned back.
Vaguely wondering whether Caesar's latest whim was to drive his courtfrom him, Marsyas got into his own highly-painted shell and told hisoarsman to take him across to Baiae.
As he sat at the tiller and moodily watched the Italian night come upover the sea, the capes, the hill-slopes and finally cover the somberhead of the unsuspected Vesuvius, he was afraid that his long ignoredEssenic rigor would assert itself. He was ashamed of himself, and forthe moment looked upon the life he had led in Rome with revulsion. Buthe put off his self-examination with a kind of terror. There was yetmuch that was harsh and unlawful to be done, and he dared not hold offhis hand. Lydia's life and good name, the avenging of Stephen,Agrippa's life and Cypros' happiness were weighed against Classicus andhis own soul in the other balance. He could not hesitate now.
When he set foot in opulent Baiae the night had fallen and with hisreturn to the city, which he knew sheltered Agrippa's most active enemyat that hour, all his energies turned toward the purpose that hadoriginally brought him to Misenum. He believed that if Classicus hadinsinuated himself into young Tiberius' favor, doubtless the prince'shospitality had been extended to him. He turned his steps toward therange of villas built between Baiae and Puteoli, overlooking the bay.
He had in mind the method of his last resort, and he went as one goeswhen desperation carries him forward--swiftly and relentlessly.
But, crossing the town by the water-front, he met a handful of slavesbearing baggage toward the wharves. With his old Essenic thoroughnesshe halted to examine them to make sure that Classicus had notoutstripped him finally. By their particularly fine physique anddiverse nationality Marsyas knew them to be costly slaves of thefamilia of no small patrician.
He heard the ramble of chariot-wheels on the lava-paved streets; themaster was following. As the vehicle passed under a lamp a few pacesaway, Marsyas distinguished the occupants as Classicus and the youngTiberius.
He felt a chill creep over his heart; the hour had come.
He moved after the slaves toward the wharf.
Baiae's beauties extended out and waded into the waves. The landings ofmarble had to be fit masonry for the feet of the Caesars and their trainwhen they asked the hospitality of the sea. Luxury, not commerce, camedown to the water's edge and gazed Narcissus-like at its lovely imagein the quiet bay. Here were no Algerian hulks with their lateen sails,no evil-smelling fishing fleets, or docks or warehouses, or citycloacas. Baiae was a city of dreams and warm baths, of idleness andtemples and villas, of gardens and fragrance and beauty and repose.Now, the velvet winds of the starry Italian night rippled the face ofthe bay; the last faint luster of a set moon showed a bar of whitelight, low down in the southwest, and against that, blackly outlined, asplendid galley was driving like the wind into port.
A dozen yards from the end of the pier lay a passage-boat, with a lighton its mast and a soft glow in its curtained cabin, Marsyas wondered ifTiberius meant to accompany his guest to Misenum.
But while he thought, Tiberius set Classicus down, took leave with anapology and a reminder that guests awaited him at home, and droverapidly back into Baiae.
A small rowboat lay under shadow at the side of the landing and the twocouriers loading the baggage awaited now their passenger.
But Marsyas emerged from the dark and stepped before Classicus. Aglance at the tidy countenance of the philosopher sent a rush of heatthrough Marsyas' veins. Classicus was not feeling the spiritual combatwithin him, for the work he meditated, that racked the young Essene.That fact acknowledged helped Marsyas in his intent.
"A word," Marsyas said.
Classicus stopped, a little startled.
"Who art thou?"
"Marsyas, the Essene."
The young man had not helped his cause by the introduction.
"Out of my path," Classicus said coldly. "I have nothing to say tothee!"
"I have somewhat to say to thee, Classicus. If thou must be hard ofheart, be not foolish and injurious to thyself."
"Suffer no pangs of concern for my welfare," the philosopher said."Preserve them, lest thine own cause find thee bankrupt in tears!"
"My cause will not need them: thou mayest. I know why thou art hereand whither thou art going and for what purpose. I know who sent thee,why and what thou wilt accomplish. I know how feebly thou art aidedand how much imperiled. Above all things I know what will happen tothee unless thou hearest me!"
"What a number of door-cracks hath yielded thee information! Standaside before I call my servants to thee!"
Marsyas folded his arms. The green blackness of the bay threw hissolid outlines into relief. The threat he had made suddenly appealedto Classicus as ill-advised.
"Jewish brethren," Marsyas answered, his voice dropping into thesoftness which was premonitory, "do not speak thus with each other.This was taught thee in the Synagogue. If thy lapse into evil hath letthee forget it, I care enough for thy manner to recall it to thee.
"First and above all things, know thou that I am not here to satisfythe hate of thee because thou hast wrested from me my beloved! Next,that I am here to stop thee in order to save her life, more than anyother's. Now, for thyself. Thou goest to accomplish a deed that wouldrecoil upon thine own head. If thou be tired of living, Classicus,choose another way than to perish for the entertainment of him whoduped thee."
"For thy peace of mind, O sage fool," Classicus observed, "know that Icome bearing a petition to the emperor to seek for Agrippa's wife, whohath been abducted!"
"If thou present a petition which in any way favors Agrippa or hiswife, Tiberius will test the cord on thee to be sure it is strongenough to strangle Agrippa. And I tell thee, Classicus, the Charon ofthe heathen Shades will not push off with the Herod; he will savehimself a journey and await thy arrival!"
"Still threatening, still trembling for me! If I call these slaves toremove thee thou mayest tremble for thyself!"
"I am large, Classicus, strong and determined. I could kill theebefore thy stupid slaves ran three paces!"
Classicus turned his eyes to the level line to the southwest. Theluster on the horizon was gone. The great galley, broadside now as shehunted her channel, loomed large on the outskirts of the shelteredwater. Once, the deck-lights flashed on a bank of her oars, rising wetand slippery from the sea.
"Listen, brother," Marsyas continued. "Thou shall proceed with me tothe maritime harbor at Puteoli, and get aboard the vessel there whichsails for Alexandria. Thou shall leave Italy: thou shalt discontinuethy work against Agrippa--or have the knife, now! Decide!"
The hiss and protest of plowing waters came now on the breeze; theregular beat of many oars, working as one, broke the hiss intorhythmical bars: an invisible pennant, high up in the helpless shroudswhere night covered canvas and mast, was caught suddenly by a vagrantcurrent of wind and fluttered with rapid pulsations of sound. Longlances of light reached out on the water and began to stretchbroadening fingers toward the pier. Humming noises like blended voicescame with the rattle of chains.
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Marsyas knew that Classicus was awaiting the arrival of the galley forthe advantages of the interruption and to secure Marsyas' arrest.
The young Essene stepped close to Classicus.
"I shall wait no longer for thy answer," he said softly.
The philosopher's voice rang out, clear and unafraid.
"Hither, slaves!"
Marsyas was not unprepared. He seized Classicus and forced him backinto the black shadows of the clustered columns with which the inneredge of the landing was ornamented.
The two couriers came running, but Marsyas spoke authoritatively.
"Good slaves, if ye come at me ye will force me to kill this youngman!" he said.
"Take him!" Classicus cried.
The two servants sprang forward, but Marsyas, seizing Classicus by thehair, thrust his head back and put the point of the knife at his throat.
The two halted, tautly drawn up as if the point of the blade touchedtheir own flesh. Instinctively they knew that the silky quiet in thevoice was deadly; Marsyas had them.
Meanwhile the galley was delivering up her passengers to the land. Thefirst ship's boat that touched the landing carried four patricians.The soft sound of heelless sandals on the pavement drifted down fromBabe. Some one of the citizens was coming to meet the arrivals.
The four stepped out, and the ship's boat shot back into the darkness.
"Ho! Regulus," one of the four cried.
"Coming!" the citizen answered from the street. "What news?"
"Caesar is dead!"
Classicus relaxed in Marsyas' grip; the slaves stood transfixed; theyoung Essene, holding fast, stilled his loud heart and listened.
"Old age?" the citizen ventured.
"Perchance; yes, doubtless," one of the four answered in a lower tone,for the citizen had come close and was taking their hands. "Smotheredin his silken cushions--died of too much comfort! Dost understand?Well enough!"
Marsyas' hands dropped from Classicus.
By the time the Alexandrian aroused to his opportunity, Marsyas haddisappeared like a spirit into the night.