CHAPTER VIII.
THE TRUE LOVE.
Dear, my Lord, Make me acquainted with your cause of grief. JULIUS CAESAR.
The sun rose clear and bright on the following morning; the air was freshand exhilarating, and full of mirthful inspiration. But Paullus Arvinarose unrefreshed and languid, with his mind ill at ease; for the reactionwhich succeeds ever to the reign of any vehement excitement, had fallen onhim with its depressing weight; and not that only, but keen remorse forthe past, and, if possible, anxiety yet keener for the future.
Disastrous dreams had beset his sleeping hours; and, at his waking, theyand the true occurrences of the past day, seemed all blended and confusedinto one horrible and hideous vision.
Now he envisaged the whole dark reality of his past conduct, of hispresent situation. Lucia, the charming siren of the previous evening,appeared in her real colors, as the immodest, passionate wanton; Catilineas the monster that indeed he was!
And yet, alas! alas! as the clear perception of the truth dawned on him,it was but coupled with a despairing sense, that to these he was linkedinevitably and forever.
The oath! the awful oath which he had sworn in the fierce whirl ofpassion, registered by the arch-traitor--the oath involving, not alone, hisown temporal and eternal welfare, but that of all whom he loved orcherished; his own pure, beautiful, inimitable Julia, to whom his heartnow reverted with a far deeper and more earnest tenderness, after itsbrief inconstancy; as he compared her strong, yet maidenly and gentlelove, with the wild and ungovernable passions of the wanton, for whom hehad once sacrificed her.
Paullus Arvina was not naturally, not radically evil. Far from it, hisimpulses were naturally virtuous and correct, his calm sober thoughtsalways honorable and upright; but his passions were violent andunregulated; his principles of conduct not definitively formed; and hismind wavering, unsettled, and unsteady.
His passions on the previous day had betrayed him fatally, through thedark machinations of the conspirator, and the strange fascinations of hislovely daughter, into the perpetration of a great crime. He had boundhimself, by an oath too dreadful to be thought of without shuddering, tothe commission of yet darker crimes in future.
And now the mists of passion had ceased to bedim his mental vision, hiseyes were opened, that he saw and repented most sincerely the past guilt.How was he to avoid the future?
To no man in these days, could there be a doubt even for a moment--howevergreat the sin of swearing such an oath! No one in these days, knowing andrepenting of the crime, would hesitate a moment, or fancy himself bound,because he had committed one vile sin in pledging himself thus to guilt,to rush on deeper yet into the perpetration of wickedness.
The sin were in the swearing, not in the breaking of an oath so vile andshameful.
But those were days of dark heathenish superstition, and it was far beyondthe reach of any intellect perhaps of that day to arrive at a conclusion,simple as that to which any mind would now leap, as it were instinctively.
In those days, an omitted rite, an error in the ceremonial tribute paid tothe marble idol, was held a deeper sin than adultery, incest, or bloodshedding. And the bare thought of the vengeance due for a broken oathwould often times keep sleepless, with mere dread, the eyes of men whocould have slumbered calmly on the commission of the deadliest crimes.
Such, then, was the state of Arvina's mind on that morning--grieving withdeep remorse for the faults of which he confessed himself guilty;trembling at the idea of rushing into yet more desperate guilt; and at thesame time feeling bound to do so, in despite of his better thoughts, bythe fatal oath which bound him to the arch traitor.
While he was sitting in his lonely chamber, with his untasted meal of ripefigs, and delicate white bread, and milk and honeycomb before him,devouring his own heart in his fiery anguish, and striving with all hisenergies of intellect to devise some scheme by which he might escape theperils that seemed to hem him round on every side, his faithful freedmanentered, bearing a little billet, on which his eye had scarcely fallenbefore he recognized the shapely characters of Julia's well-known writing.
He broke the seal which connected the flaxen band, and with a tremblingeye, and a soul that feared it knew not what, from the very consciousnessof guilt, he read as follows:
"A day has passed, my Paullus, and we have not met! The first day in whichwe have not met and conversed together, since that whereon you asked me tobe yours! I would not willingly, my Paul, be as those miserable and mostfoolish girls, of whom my mother has informed me, who, given up tojealousy and doubt, torment themselves in vain, and alienate the noblespirits, which are bound to them by claims of affection only, not ofcompulsion or restraint. Nor am I so unreasonable as to think, that a manhas no duties to perform, other than to attend a woman's leisure. The Godsforbid it! for whom I love, I would see great, and famous, and esteemed inthe world's eyes as highly as in mine! The house, it is true, is oursphere--the Forum and the Campus, the great world with its toils, itsstrifes, and its honors, yours! All this I speak to myself often. Irepeated it many, many times yesterday--it ought to have satisfied me--itdid satisfy my reason, Paul, but it spoke not to my heart! That whispersever, 'he came not yesterday to see me! he promised, yet he came not!' andit will not be answered. Are you sick, Paullus, that you came not? Surelyin that case you had sent for me. Hortensia would have gone with me tovisit you. No! you are not sick, else most surely I had known it! Are youthen angry with me, or offended? Unconscious am I, dearest, of any faultagainst you in word, thought, or deed. Yet will I humble myself, if youare indeed wroth with me. Have I appeared indifferent or cold? oh! Paul,believe it not. If I have not expressed the whole of my deep tendernesswhich is poured out all, all on thee alone--my yearning and continued love,that counts the minutes when thou art not near me; it is not that I ceaseever to think of thee, to adore thee, but that it were unmaidenly andoverbold to tell thee of it. See, now, if I have not done so here; and myhand trembles, and my cheek burns, and almost I expect to see the pallidpaper blush, to find itself the bearer of words so passionate as these.But you will pardon me, and come to me forthwith, and tell me, ifanything, in what I have displeased thee.
"It is a lovely morning, and Hortensia has just learned from CaiusBibulus, that at high noon the ambassadors of the wild Allobroges willmarch in with their escort over the Mulvian Bridge. She wishes much to seethe pomp, for we are told that their stature is gigantic and theirpresence noble, and their garb very wild, yet magnificent withal andmartial. Shall we go forth and see them? Hortensia will carry me in hercarpentum, and you can either ride with us on horseback, or if you be notover proud take our reins yourself as charioteer, or, what will perhaps bethe best of all, come in your own car and escort us. I need not say that Iwish to see you _now_, for _that_ I wish always. Come, then, and quickly,if you would pleasure your own Julia."
"Sweet girl," he exclaimed, as he finished reading it, "pure as the snowupon Soracte, yet warm and tender as the dove. Inimitable Julia! AndI--I--Oh, ye gods! ye gods! that beheld it!" and he smote his brow heavilywith his hand, and bit his lip, till the blood almost sprang beneath thepressure of his teeth; but recovering himself in a moment, he turned toThrasea--"Who brought this billet? doth he wait?"
"Phaedon, Hortensia's Greek boy, brought it, noble Paullus. He waits foryour answer in the atrium."
"Quick, then, quick, Thrasea, give me a reed and paper."
And snatching the materials he wrote hastily:
"Chance only, evil chance, most lovely Julia, and business of some weight,restrained me from you most unwilling yesterday. More I shall tell youwhen we meet--indeed all! for what can I wish to conceal from you, thebetter portion of my soul. Need I say that I come--not, alas, on the wingsof my love, or I should be beside you as I write, but as quickly as thespeed of horses may whirl me to your presence; until then, fare you well,and confide in the fidelity of Paullus."
"Give it to Phaedon," he said, tossing the note to T
hrasea, "and say tohim, 'if he make not the better haste, I shall be at Hortensia's housebefore him.' And then, hark ye, tell some of those knaves in the hallwithout, to make ready with all speed my light chariot, and yoke the twoblack horses Aufidus and Acheron. With all speed, mark ye! And thenreturn, good Thrasea, for I have much to say to you, before I go."
When he was left alone, he arose from his seat, walked three or four timesto and fro his chamber, in anxious and uneasy thought; and then saying,"Yes! yes! I will not betray him, but I will take no step in the businessany farther, and I will tell him so to-night. I will tell him, moreover,that Cicero has the dagger, for now that Volero is slain, I see not wellhow it can be identified. The Gods defend me from the dark ones whom Ihave invoked. I will not be untrue to Rome, nor to Julia, any more--perishthe whole earth, rather! Ay! and let us, too, perish innocent, better thanto live guilty!"
As he made up his mind, by a great effort, to the better course, thefreedman returned, and announcing that the car would be ready forthwith,inquired what dress he should bring him.
"Never mind that! What I have on will do well enough, with a_petasus_;(15) for the sun shines so brightly that it will be scarcepossible to drive bare headed. But I have work for you of more importance.You know the cave of Egeria, as men call it, in the valley of the Muses?"
"Surely, my Paullus."
"I know, I know; but have you ever marked the ground especially around thecave--what opportunities there be for concealment, or the like?"
"Not carefully," he answered, "but I have noticed that there is a littlegorge just beyond the grotto, broken with crags and blocks of tufo, andovergrown with much brushwood, and many junipers and ivy."
"That will do then, I warrant me," replied Arvina. "Now mark what I tellyou, Thrasea; for it may be, that my life shall depend on your acting as Idirect. At the fourth hour of the night, I am to meet one in the grotto,on very secret business, whom I mistrust somewhat; who it is, I may notinform you; but, as I think my plans will not well suit his councils, Ishould not be astonished were he to have slaves, or even gladiators, withhim to attack me--but not dreaming that I suspect anything, he will nottake many. Now I would have you arm all my freedmen, and some half dozenof the trustiest slaves, so as to have in all a dozen or fifteen, withcorslets under their tunics, and boarspears, and swords. You must becareful that you are not seen going thither, and you were best send themout by different roads, so as to meet after nightfall. Hide yourselvesclosely somewhere, not far from the cavern's mouth, whence you may see,unseen yourselves, whatever passes. I will carry my light hunting horn;and if you hear its blast rush down and surround the cave, but hurt noman, nor strike a blow save in self-defence, until I bid you. Do youcomprehend me?"
"I comprehend, and will obey you to the letter, Paullus," answered thegrave freedman, "but will not you be armed?"
"I will, my Thrasea. Leave thou a leathern hunting helmet here on thetable, and light scaled cuirass, which I will do on under my toga. I shallbe there at the fourth hour precisely; but it were well that ye should beon your posts by the second hour or soon after. For it may be, he too willlay an ambuscade, and so all may be discovered."
"It shall be done, most noble master."
"And see that ye take none but trustworthy men, and that ye all aresilent--to would be ruin."
"As silent as the grave, my Paullus," answered the freedman.
"The car and horses are prepared, Paullus," exclaimed a slave, enteringhastily.
"Who goes with me to hold the reins?" asked his master.
"The boy Myron."
"It is well. Fetch me a petasus, and lay the toga in the chariot. I maywant it. Now, Thrasea, I rely on you! Remember--be prudent, sure, andsilent."
"Else may I perish ill," replied the faithful servitor, as his master,throwing the broad brimmed hat carelessly on his curly locks, rushed out,as if glad to seek relief from his own gloomy thoughts in the excitementof rapid motion; and, scarcely pausing to observe the condition orappearance of his beautiful black coursers, sprang into the low car ofbronze, shaped not much differently from an old fashioned arm chair withits back to the horses; seized the reins, and drove rapidly away, standingerect--for the car contained no seats--with the boy Myron clinging to therail behind him.
A few minutes brought him through the Cyprian lane and the Suburra to theVirbian slope, by which he gained the Viminal hill, and the Hortensianvilla; at the door of which, in a handsome street leading through theQuirinal gate to the Flaminian way, or great northern road of Italy, stoodthe carpentum, drawn by a pair of noble mules, awaiting its fair freight.
This was a two-wheeled covered vehicle, set apart mostly for the use ofladies; and, though without springs, was as comfortable and luxurious acarriage as the art of that day could produce; nor was there one in Rome,with the exception of those kept for public use in the sacred processions,that could excel that of the rich and elegant Hortensia.
The pannels were beautifully painted, and the arched top or tilt supportedby gilded caryatides at the four corners. Its curtains and cushions wereof fine purple cloth; and altogether, though far less convenient, it was amuch gayer and more sumptuous looking vehicle than the perfection ofmodern coach building.
The ladies were both waiting in the atrium, when the young man dismountedfrom his car; and never had his Julia, he thought, looked more lovely thanshe did this morning, with the redundant masses of her rich hair confinedby a net of green and gold, and a rich _pallium_, or shawl of the samecolors, gracefully draped over her snowy stola, and indicating by the softsweep of its outlines the beauties of a figure, which it might veil butcould not conceal.
Joyously, in the frank openness of her pure nature, she sprung forward tomeet him, with both her fair hands extended, and the ingenuous bloodrising faintly to her pale cheeks.
"Dear, dearest Paul--I am so happy, so rejoiced to see you."
Nothing could be more tender, more affectionate, than all her air, herwords, her manner. Love flashed from her bright eyes irrepressible, playedin the dimples of her smiling mouth, breathed audible in every tone of hersoft silvery voice. Yet was there nothing that the gravest and most rigidcensor could have wished otherwise--nothing that he could have pronounced,even for a moment, too warm, or too free for the bearing of the chariestmaiden.
The very artlessness of her emotions bore evidence to their purity, theirholiness. She was rejoiced to see her permitted lover, she felt no shamein that emotion of chaste joy, and would no more have dreamed ofconcealing it from him whom she loved so devotedly, than of masking herdevotion to the Gods under a veil of indifference or coldness.
Here was the very charm of her demeanor, as here was the differencebetween her manner, and that of her rival Lucia.
In Julia, every thought that sprang from her heart, was uttered by herlips in frank and fearless innocence; she had no thought she was ashamedof, no wish she feared to utter. Her clear bright eyes dwelt unabashed andfondly on the face of him she loved; and no scrutiny could have detectedin their light, one glance of unquiet or immodest passion. Her manner waswarm and unreserved toward Paul, because she had a right to love him, andcared not who knew that she did so. Lucia's was as cold as snow, on thecontrary; yet it required no second glance to perceive that the coldnesswas but the cover superinduced to hide passions too warm for revelation.Her eye was downcast; yet did its stolen glances speak things, the secretconsciousness of which would have debased the other in her own estimationbeyond the hope of pardon. Her tongue was guarded, and her words slow andcarefully selected, for her imaginations would have made the brazen faceof the world blush for shame could it have heard them spoken.
Hortensia smiled to witness the manifest affection of her sweet child; butthe smile was, she knew not why, half mournful, as she said--
"You are unwise, my Julia, to show this truant how much you prize hiscoming; how painfully his absence depresses you. Sages declare that womenshould not let their lords guess, even, how much they are loved."
"W
hy, mother," replied Julia, her bright face gleaming radiantly with thepure lustre of her artless spirit, "I _am_ glad to see him; I _do_ prizehis coming; I _do_ love Paullus. Why, then, should I dissemble, when to doso were dishonest, and were folly likewise?"
"You should not tell him so, my child," replied the mother, "I fear youshould not tell him so. Men are not like us women, who love but the moredevotedly, the more fondly we are cherished. There is, I fear, somethingof the hunter's, of the conqueror's, ardour, in their passion; the pursuitis the great allurement; the winning the great rapture; and the prize,once securely won, too often cast aside, and disregarded."
"No! no!" returned the girl eagerly, fixing her eyes on her lover'sfeatures, as if she would read therein the outward evidences of thatnobility of soul, which she believed to exist within. "I will not believeit; it were against all gratitude! all honor! all heart-truth! No, I willnot believe it; and if I did, Hortensia, by all the Gods, I had ratherlive without love, than hold it on so vile a tenure of deceit. What,treasure up the secrets of your soul from your soul's lord? No! no! Iwould as soon conceal my devotion from the powers of heaven, as myaffections from their rightful master. I, for one, never will believe thatall men are selfish and unfaithful."
"May the Gods grant, my Julia, that sad experience shall never teach youthat they are so. I, at least, will believe, and pray, that, what his sexmay be soever, our Paullus will prove worthy ever of that best gift ofGod, a pure woman's pure and unselfish love."
"Oh! may it be so," answered Paullus, clasping his hands ferventlytogether. "May I die ere I wrong my Julia! and be you sure, sweet girl,that your simple trust is philosophy far truer than the sage's lore. Basemust his nature be, and his heart corrupt, who remains unsubdued toartlessness and love, such as yours, my Julia."
"But tell us, now," said the elder lady, "what was it that detained you,and where were you all the day? We expected you till the seventh hour ofthe night, yet you came not."
"I will tell you, Hortensia," he replied; "as we drive along; for I hadrather do so, where there be no ears to overhear us. You must let me beyour charioteer to-day, and your venerable grey-headed coachman shall ridewith my wild imp Myron, in the car, if you will permit it."
"Willingly," she replied. "Then something strange has happened. Is it notso?"
"I knew it," exclaimed Julia, clasping her snowy hands together, "I knewit; I have read it in his eye this half hour. What can it be? it issomething fearful, I am certain."
"Nay! nay! be not alarmed; if there were danger, it is passed already. Butcome, let me assist you to the carriage; I will tell you all as we go. Butif we do not make good speed, the pomp will have passed the bridge beforewe reach it."
The ladies made no more delay, but took their places in the carriage, Pauloccupying the front seat, and guiding the sober mules with far more ease,than Hortensia's aged charioteer experienced in restraining the speed ofArvina's fiery coursers, and keeping them in their place, behind theheavier carpentum.
The narrow streets were now passed, and threading the deep arch of theQuirinal gate, they struck into a lane skirting the base of the hill ofgardens, on the right hand, by which they gained the great Flaminian way,just on the farther confines of the Campus; when they drove rapidly towardthe Milvian bridge, built a few years before by AEmilius Scaurus, andesteemed for many a year the masterpiece of Roman architecture.
As soon as they had cleared the confines of the busy city, within whichthe throng of vehicles, and the passengers, as well on foot as onhorseback, compelled Arvina to give nearly the whole of his attention tothe guidance of the mules--he slackened the reins, and leaving the docileand well-broken animals to choose their own way, giving only an occasionalglance to their movements, commenced the detail of his adventures at thepoint, where he parted from them on the night before the last.
Many were the emotions of fear, and pity, and anxiety which that talecalled forth; and more than once the tears of Julia were evoked bysympathy, first, with her lover's daring, then with the grief of Thrasea.But not a shade of distrust came to cloud her pure spirit, for Paullusmentioned nothing of his interview with Catiline on the Caelian, or in theCampus; much less of his dining with him, or detecting in him the murdererof the hapless Volero.
Still he did not attempt to conceal, that both Cicero and himself hadsuspicions of the identity of the double murderer, or that he was about togo forth that very evening, for the purpose of attempting--as herepresented it--to ascertain, beyond doubt, the truth of his suspicions.
And here it was singular, that Julia evinced not so much alarm orperturbation as her mother; whether it was that she underrated the dangerhe was like to run, or overrated the prowess and valor of her lover. Butso it was, for though she listened eagerly while he was speaking, andgazed at him wistfully after he had become silent, she said nothing. Herbeautiful eyes, it is true, swam with big tear-drops for a moment, and hernether lip quivered painfully; but she mastered her feelings, and after ashort space began to talk joyously about such subjects as were suggestedby the pleasant scenery, through which their road lay, or the variousgroups of people whom they met on the way.
Ere long the shrill blast of a cavalry trumpet was heard from thedirection of the bridge, and a cloud of dust surging up in the distanceannounced the approach of the train.
There was a small green space by the wayside, covered with short mossyturf, and overshadowed by the spreading branches of a single chesnut,beneath which Paullus drew up the mules of Hortensia's carriage, directingthe old charioteer, who seemed hard set to manage his high-bred and fierysteeds, to wheel completely off the road, and hold them well in hand onthe green behind him.
By this time the procession had drawn nigh, and two mounted troopers,glittering in casques of highly polished bronze, with waving crests ofhorsehair, corslets of burnished brass, and cassocks of bright scarletcloth, dashed by as hard as their fiery Gallic steeds could trot, theirharness clashing merrily from the rate at which they rode. Before thesemen were out of sight, a troop of horse rode past in serried order, fiveabreast, with a square crimson banner, bearing in characters of gold thewell-known initials, S. P. Q. R., and surmounted by a gilded eagle.
Nothing could be more beautifully accurate than the ordered march andexact discipline of this little band, their horses stepping proudly out,as if by one common impulse, in perfect time to the occasional notes ofthe _lituus_, or cavalry trumpet, by which all their manoeuvres weredirected; and the men, hardy and fine-looking figures, in the prime oflife, bestriding with an air of perfect mastery their fiery chargers, andbearing the weight of their heavy panoply beneath the burning sunshine ofthe Italian noon, as though a march of thirty miles were the merestchild's play.
About half a mile in the rear of this escort, so as to avoid the dustwhich hung heavily, and was a long time subsiding in the breathlessatmosphere, came the train of the ambassadors from the Gaulish Highlands,and on these men were the eyes of the Roman ladies fixed with undisguisedwonder, not unmixed with admiration. For their giant stature, stronglimbs, and wild barbaric dresses, were as different from those of thewell-ordered legionaries, as were their long light tresses, their blueeyes, keen and flashing as a falcon's, and their fair ruddy skins, fromthe clear brown complexions, dark locks, and black eyes of the Italianrace.
The first of these wild people was a young warrior above six feet inheight, mounted on a superb grey charger, which bore his massive bulk asif it were unconscious of his burthen. His large blue eyes wandered aroundhim on all sides with a quick flashing glance that took in everything, yetseemed surprised at nothing; though almost everything which he beheld musthave been strange to him. His long red hair flowed down in wavy massesover his neck and shoulders, and his upper lip, though his cheeks and hischin were closely shaven, was clothed with an immense moustache, the endsof which curled upward nearly to his eyes.
Upon his head he wore a casque of bronze, covered with studs of silver,and crested by two vast polished horns, the spoil of the fiercest a
nimalof Europe's forests--the gigantic and indomitable Urus. A coat of mail,composed of bright steel rings interwoven in the Gaulish fashion, coveredhis body from the throat downward to the hips, leaving his strong armsbare to the shoulder, though they were decorated with so many chains,bracelets, and armlets, and broad rings of gold and silver, as would havegone far to protect them from a sword cut.
His legs were clothed, unlike those of any southern people, intightly-sitting pantaloons--_braccae_, as they were called--of gailyvariegated tartans, precisely similar to the trews of the ScottishHighlander--a much more ancient part of the costume, by the way, than thekilt, or short petticoat, now generally worn--and these trews, as well asthe streaming plaid, which he wore belted gracefully about his shoulders,shone resplendent with checkers of the brightest scarlet, azure, andemerald, and white, interspersed here and there with lines and squares ofdarker colors, giving relief and harmony to the general effect.
A belt of leather, studded with bosses and knobs of coral and polishedmountain pebbles, girded his waist, and supported a large purse of somerich fur, with a formidable dirk at the right side, and, at the left,suspended by gilt chains from the girdle, a long, straight, cuttingbroadsword, with a basket hilt--the genuine claymore, or great sword--toresist the sweep of which Marcellus had been fain, nearly five hundredyears before, to double the strength of the Roman casque, and to add afresh layer of wrought iron to the tough fabric of the Roman buckler.
This ponderous blade constituted, with the dagger, the whole of hisoffensive armature; but there was slung on his left shoulder a small roundtarge, of the hide of the mountain bull, bound at the rim, and studdedmassively with bronze, and having a steel pike projecting from thecentre--in all respects the same instrument as that with which the clansreceived the British bayonet at Preston Pans and Falkirk.
The charger of this gallantly-attired chief was bedecked, like his rider,with all the martial trappings of the day; his bridle, mounted with bitsof ponderous Spanish fabric, was covered with bosses gemmed with amber andunwrought coral; his housings, of variegated plaid, were elaboratelyfringed with embroideries of gold; and his rich scarlet poitrel wasdecked, in the true taste of the western savage, with tufts of human hair,every tuft indicating a warrior slain, and a hostile head embalmed in thecoffers of the valiant rider.
"See, Julia, see," whispered Arvina, as he passed slowly by their chariot,"that must be one of their great chiefs, and a man of extraordinaryprowess. Look at the horns of the mighty Urus on his helmet, a brutefiercer, and well nigh as large as a Numidian elephant. He must have slainit, single-handed in the forest, else had he not presumed to wear itstrophies, which belong only to the greatest of their champions. For everystud of silver on his casque of bronze he must have fought in a pitchedbattle; and for each tuft of hair upon his charger's poitrel he must haveslain a foe in hand-to-hand encounter. There are eighteen tufts on thisside, and, I warrant me, as many on the other. Doubtless, he has alreadystricken down thirty-six foemen."
"And he numbers not himself as yet so many years! Ye Gods! what monsters,"exclaimed Julia, shuddering at the idea of human hair used as adecoration. "Are they not anthropophagi, the Gauls, my Paullus?"
"No, by the Gods! Julia," answered Arvina, laughing; "but very valiantwarriors, and hospitable beyond measure to those who visit their nativemountains; admirers, too, of women, whom they regard as almost divine,beyond all things. I see that stout fellow looking wild admiration at younow, from his clear blue eyes, though he would fain be thought above thereach of wonder."
"Are they believers in the Gods, or Atheists, as well as barbarous?"
"By Jupiter! neither barbarous, to speak the truth, nor Atheists; theyworship Mercury and Jove, Mars and Apollo, and Diana, as we do; and thoughtheir tongues be something wild, and their usages seem strange to us, itcannot be denied that they are a brave and noble race, and at this timegood friends to the Roman people. Mark that old chieftain; he is theheadman of the tribe, and leader of the embassy, I doubt not."
While he was speaking, a dozen other chiefs had ridden by, accompanied bythe chiefs of the Roman escort, some men in the prime of life, somegrizzled and weather-beaten, and having the trace of many a hard-foughtfield in the scars that defaced their sunburnt visages. But the last wasan old man, with long silver hair, and eyebrows and mustachios white asthe snow on his native Jura; the principal personage evidently of theband, for his casque was plated with gold, and his shirt of mail richlygilded, and the very plaid which he wore, alternately checked withscarlet, black, and gold.
He also, as he passed, turned his deep grey eye toward the little group onthe green, and his face lightened up, as he surveyed the athletic form andvigorous proportions of the young patrician, and he leaned toward theofficer, who rode beside him, a high crested tribune of the tenth legion,and enquired his name audibly.
The soldier, who had been nodding drowsily over his charger's neck, tiredby the long and dusty ride, looked up half bewildered, for he had taken nonote of the spectators, but as his eyes met those of Arvina, he smiled andwaved his hand, for they were old companions, and he laughed as he gavethe required information to the ancient warrior.
The gaze of the old man fell next on the lovely lineaments of Julia, anddwelt there so long that the girl lowered her eyes abashed; but, when sheagain raised them, supposing that he had passed by, she still met thefirm, penetrating, quiet gaze, rivetted on her face, for he had turnedhalf round in the saddle as he rode along.
A milder light came into his keen, hawk-like eye, and a benignant smileilluminated his gray weather-beaten features, as he surveyed and markedthe ingenuous and artless beauty of her whole form and face; and hewhispered into the tribune's ear something that made him too turn back,and wave his hand to Paul, and laugh merrily.
"Now, drive us homeward, Paullus," said Hortensia, as the cohort ofinfantry which closed the procession, marched steadily along, dusty anddark with sweat, yet proud in their magnificent array, and solid in theiriron discipline. "Drive us homeward as quickly as you may. You will dinewith us, and if you must need go early to your meeting, we will not hinderyou."
"Gladly will I dine with you; but I must say farewell soon after the thirdhour!"
They soon arrived at the hospitable villa, and shortly afterward thepleasant and social meal was served. But Paul was not himself, though thelips he loved best poured forth their fluent music in his ear, and theeyes which he deemed the brightest, laughed on him in their speakingfondness.
Still he was sad, silent, and abstracted, and Julia marked it all; andwhen he rose to say farewell, just as the earliest shades of night werefalling, she arose too; and as she accompanied him to the door, leaningfamiliarly on his arm, she said--
"You have not told me all, Paullus. I thought so while you were yetspeaking; but now I am sure of it. I will not vex you at this time withquestions, but will devour my anxiety and grief. But to-morrow, to-morrow,Paullus, if you love me indeed, you will tell me all that disturbs you.True love has no concealment from true love. Do not, I pray you, answerme; but fare you well, and good fortunes follow you."