CHAPTER XI.
In order to gain and support this influence, it can easily beunderstood that Cethegus was forced to be more at court, and oftenerabsent from Rome, than was advantageous for his interests in that city.
He therefore endeavoured to bring persons into close connection withthe Queen, who would, in part, take his place, warmly defend hisinterests, and keep him _au fait_ of all that passed in the court ofRavenna.
Many Gothic nobles had left the court in anger, and it was necessary toreplace their wives in their office near the Queen; and Cethegusdetermined to use this opportunity to bring Rusticiana, the daughter ofSymmachus and wife of Boethius, once more to court. It was no easytask. For the family of Boethius, who had been executed as a traitor,had been banished the capital. Before anything could be done, thefeeling which the Queen entertained towards this family must becompletely altered. Cethegus, however, soon succeeded in appealing tothe compassion and magnanimity of Amalaswintha, who possessed a nobleheart. At the same time she had never really believed in the unprovedguilt of the two noble Romans, one of whom, the husband of Rusticiana,she had honoured as an extremely learned man, and, in some points, asher teacher. Cethegus proved to her that by showing favour to thisfamily, either as an act of grace or of justice, she would touch thehearts of all her Roman subjects, and he thus easily persuaded her topardon the deeply degraded family.
It was much more difficult to persuade the proud and passionate widowof the murdered man to accept this favour, for her whole soul wasfilled with bitterness against the royal house, and thirst for revenge.Cethegus even feared that when she was in the presence of the"tyrants," her ungovernable hatred might betray itself. In spite of thegreat influence he had over her, she had repeatedly rejected this plan.
Matters had come to this pass, when, one day, Rusticiana made adiscovery which shortly led to the fulfilment of the Prefect's wish.
Rusticiana had a daughter of scarcely sixteen years of age, namedCamilla. She was a lovely girl, with a face of the true Roman type,with nobly-formed features and chiselled lips. Intense feeling beamedfrom her dark eyes; her figure, slender almost to delicacy, was elegantand light as that of a gazelle, and all her movements were agile andgraceful. She had loved her unhappy father with all the energy offilial devotion. The stroke that had laid his beloved head low hadentered deeply into her own young life; and inconsolable and sacredgrief, mixed with passionate admiration for his heroism, filled all heryouthful thoughts. A welcome guest at court before her father's death,she had fled with her mother after the catastrophe over the Alps toGaul, where they had found an asylum with an old friend, while Aniciusand Severinus, Camilla's brothers, who had been also condemned, but whowere afterwards reprieved and sent into banishment, hastened at once tothe court at Byzantium, where they tried to move heaven and earthagainst the barbarians.
When the first heat of persecution had abated, the two women hadreturned to Italy, and led a retired life in the house of one of theirfaithful freedmen at Perusia, whence, as we have seen, Rusticiana hadeasily found means to join the conspiracy in Rome.
It was in June, that season of the year when the Romanaristocracy--then as at this day--fled the sultry air of the towns, andsought a refuge in their cool villas on the Sabine mountains, or at thesea-coast. The two noble women, used to every luxury, felt extremelyill at ease in the hot and narrow streets of Perusia, and thought withregret of their beautiful villas in Florence and Neapolis, which,together with all the rest of their fortune, had been confiscated bythe Gothic Government.
One day, their faithful servant, Corbulo, came to Rusticiana with astrangely embarrassed expression of countenance, and explained to her"how, having long since noticed how much the 'Patrona' sufferedunder his unworthy roof, and had to endure much annoyance from hishandiwork--he being a mason--he had bought a small, a very small,estate, with a still smaller house, in the mountains near Tifernum.However, she must not compare it with the villa near Florentia; butstill there ran a little brook near it, which never dried up, evenunder the dog-star; oaks and cornel-trees gave broad and pleasantshade; ivy grew luxuriantly over a ruined Temple of Faunus; and in thegarden he had planted roses, lilies, and violets, such as Donna Camillaloved; and so he hoped that they would mount their mules or litter, andgo to their villa like other noble dames."
The ladies, much touched by their old servant's fidelity, gratefullyaccepted his kindness, and Camilla, who rejoiced like a child in theanticipation of a little change, was more cheerful and animated thanshe had ever been since her father's death.
Impatiently she urged their departure, and hurried off beforehand thevery same day, with Corbulo and his daughter, Daphnidion, leaving hermother to follow as soon as possible with the slaves and baggage.
The sun was already sinking behind the hills of Tifernum when Corbulo,leading Camilla's mule by the bridle, reached an open place in thewood, from whence they first caught sight of the little estate. He hadlong pleased himself with the thought of the young girl's surprise whenhe should show her the prettily situated villa.
But he suddenly stood still, struck with surprise; he held his handbefore his eyes, fancying that the evening sun dazzled him; he lookedaround to see if he were really in the right place; but there was nodoubt about it! There stood, on the ridge where wood and meadow met,the grey border-stone, in the form of the old frontier-god Terminus,with his pointed head. It was the right place, but the little house wasnowhere to be seen; where it should have been, was a thick group ofpines and plantains; and besides this, the whole place was changed;green hedges and flowerbeds stood where once cabbages and turnips grew;and where sandpits and the high-road had, till now, marked the limitsof his modest property, rose an elegant pavilion.
"The Mother of God and all the superior gods save me!" Cried the mason;"some magic must be at work!"
His daughter hastily handed him the amulet that she carried at hergirdle; but she was no wiser than he, for it was the first time thatshe had visited the new property; and so there was nothing left but todrive the mules forward as fast as possible. Father and daughter,leaping from stone to stone, accompanied the trotting mules to thebottom of the declivity with cries of encouragement.
As they approached, Corbulo certainly discovered the house that he hadbought behind the group of trees, but so changed, renewed, andbeautified, that he scarcely recognised it.
His astonishment at the transformation of the whole place tended toincrease his superstitious fears. His mouth opened wide, he let thereins fall, stood stock-still, and he was beginning another wonderfulspeech, intermixed with heathen and Christian interjections, whenCamilla, equally astounded, called out:
"But that is the garden where we once lived, the Viridarium of Honoriusat Ravenna! The same trees, the same flower-beds, and, by the lake, thelittle Temple of Venus, just as it once stood on the sea-shore atRavenna! Oh, how beautiful! What a faithful memory! Corbulo, how didyou manage it?" and tears of grateful emotion filled her eyes.
"The devil and all the Lemures take me, if I had anything to do withit! But there comes Cappadox with his club foot; he at least is notbewitched. Speak, then, Cyclops, what has happened here?"
Cappadox, a gigantic, broad-shouldered slave, came limping along withan uncouth smile, and after many questions, told a puzzling tale.
About three weeks ago, a few days after he had been sent to the estateto manage it for his master, who had gone to the marble quarries ofLuna, there came from Tifernum a noble Roman with a troop of slaves andworkmen and heavily-packed wagons. He inquired if this was the estatebought by the sculptor Corbulo of Perusia for the widow of Boethius.Upon being answered in the affirmative, he had introduced himself asthe Hortulanus Princeps, that is, the superior intendant of the gardensat Ravenna. An old friend of Boethius--who wished not to tell his name,for fear of the Gothic tyrants--desired to care for his family insecret, and had given orders that their summer residence should beimproved and embellished with all possible art. He (Cappa
dox) was by nomeans to spoil the intended surprise, and, half-kindly, half by force,they had kept him fast in the villa. Then the intendant had immediatelymade his plan, and set his men to work. Many neighbouring fields werebought at a high price; and there began such a pulling-down andbuilding-up, such a planting and digging, hammering and knocking, sucha cleaning and painting, that it had made him both blind and deaf. Whenhe ventured to meddle or ask questions the workmen laughed in his face.
"And," concluded Cappadox, "it went on in this way till the day beforeyesterday. Then they had finished, and went away. At first I wasafraid, and trembled when I saw all these splendid things growing outof the earth. I thought, if Master Corbulo has to pay for all this,then mercy on my poor back! and I wanted to come and tell you. But theywould not let me go; and besides, I knew you were not at home. And whenI saw what a ridiculous amount of money the intendant had with him, andhow he threw the gold pieces about, as children throw pebbles, I goteasier by degrees, and let things go on as they would. Now, master, Iknow well that you can set me in the stocks, and have me whipped withthe vine-branch or even with the scorpion; for you are the master, andCappadox the servant. But, master, it would scarcely be just! By allthe saints and all the gods! For you set me over a few cabbage-fields,and see! they have become an Emperor's garden under my care!"
Camilla had long since dismounted and disappeared, when the servantended his account.
Her heart beating with joy, she hurried through the garden, the bowers,the house; she flew as if on wings; the active Daphnidion couldscarcely follow her. Repeated cries of astonishment and pleasureescaped her lips. Whenever she turned the corner of a path, or round agroup of trees, a new picture of the garden at Ravenna met herdelighted eyes.
But when she entered the house, and in it found a small room painted,furnished, and decorated exactly like the room in the Imperial Palace,in which she had played away the last days of her childhood, anddreamed the first dreams of her maidenhood; the same pictures upon thehempen tapestry; the same vases and delicate citrean-wood[2] boxes;and, upon the same small tortoise-shell table, her pretty little harpwith its swan's wings; overpowered by so many remembrances, and stillmore by the feeling of gratitude for such tender friendship, she sanksobbing on the soft cushions of the lectus.
Scarcely could Daphnidion calm her.
"There are still noble hearts in the world; there are still friends ofthe house of Boethius!" and she breathed a prayer of deep thankfulnessto Heaven.
When her mother arrived the next day, she was scarcely less moved bythe strange surprise. She wrote at once to Cethegus in Rome, and asked:"In which of her husband's friends she should seek this secretbenefactor?" Within her heart she hoped that it might turn out to behimself.
But the Prefect shook his head over her letter and wrote back: "He knewno one of whom this delicate mode of proceeding reminded him. Sheshould carefully watch for every trace that might lead to the solvingof the riddle."
It was not long ere it was solved. Camilla was never tired oftraversing the garden, and continually discovering resemblances to itswell-known original.
She often extended her rambles beyond the park into the neighbouringwood. She was generally accompanied by the merry Daphnidion, whosesimilar youth and faithful affection soon won her confidence.Daphnidion had repeatedly remarked to her that they must be followed bya wood-sprite, for it often snapped in the branches and rustled in thegrass near them, and yet there nowhere was a man or an animal to beseen.
But Camilla laughed at her superstition, and often persuaded her toventure out again, far away under the green shadows of the elms andplantains.
One hot day, as the two girls penetrated deeper and deeper into thegreenwood they discovered a clear-running spring, that issued copiouslyfrom a dark porphyry rock. But it had no decided channel, and thethirsty maidens with difficulty collected the single silvery drops.
"What a pity!" cried Camilla, "the delicious water! You should haveseen the fountain of the Tritons in the Pinetum[3] at Ravenna. Howprettily the water rushed from the inflated cheeks of the bronzesea-god, into the wide shell of brown marble! What a pity!" And theypassed on.
Some days after they both came again to the same place. Daphnidion, whowas walking in front, suddenly stood still with a loud scream, andsilently pointed at the spring.
The woodland streamlet had been enclosed. From a bronze Triton's headthe water fell, in a bright stream, into a delicate shell of brownmarble. Daphnidion, now firmly believing in some magic, turned to flywithout further ado; her hands pressed over her eyes, so as not to seethe wood-sprite, which was considered to be extremely dangerous, shefled towards the house, calling loudly to her mistress to follow her.
But a thought flashed through Camilla's mind. The spy who had latelyfollowed them was certainly in the vicinity, revelling in theirastonishment.
She looked carefully about her. The blossoms of a 'wild rose-bush fellfrom its shaking boughs to the earth. She quickly stepped towards thethicket, and lo! a young hunter, with spear and game-bag, advancedtowards her from out the bushes.
"I am discovered," he said, in a low, shy voice. He looked veryhandsome in his embarrassment.
But, with a cry of fear, Camilla started back.
"Athalaric!" she stammered, "the King!"
A whole sea of thoughts and feelings rushed through her brain andheart, and, half fainting, she sank upon, the grassy bank beside thespring.
The young King, alarmed and delighted, stood for a few momentsspeechless before the tender figure lying at his feet. Thirstily hisburning eye dwelt upon the beautiful features and noble form. A vividflush shot like lightning over his pale face.
"Oh, she--she is my death!" he breathed, pressing both hands to hisbeating heart. "To die now--to die with her!"
Camilla moved her arm, which movement brought him to his senses; hekneeled down beside her, and wetted her temples with the cool water ofthe spring. She opened her eyes.
"Barbarian! murderer!" she cried shrilly, thrust his hand away, sprangup, and fled like a frightened doe.
Athalaric made no attempt to follow her.
"Barbarian! murderer!" he murmured to himself, in great grief, andburied his glowing forehead in his hands.