CHAPTER IV.

  Silverius, Cethegus, and Rusticiana went together up the steps whichled to the crypt of the basilica of St. Sebastian. From thence theypassed through the church into the adjoining house of the archdeacon.On arriving there, Silverius convinced himself that all the inhabitantsof the house were asleep, with the exception of an old slave, who waswatching in the atrium near a half-extinguished lamp. At a sign fromhis master he lighted a silver lamp which stood near him, and pressed asecret spring in the marble wainscot of the room.

  A slab of marble turned on its hinges and allowed the priest who hadtaken up the lamp to pass, with his two companions, into a small, lowchamber, and then quickly and noiselessly closed behind them, leavingno trace of an opening.

  The small chamber, now simply adorned by a tall wooden crucifix, afall-stool, and a few plain Christian symbols on a golden background,had evidently, as the cushioned shelf which ran round the walls showed,served for those small banquets of one or two guests, whoseunrestrained comfort Horace has so often celebrated in song. At thetime of which I speak it was the private chamber in which thearchdeacon brooded over his most secret priestly or worldly plans.

  Cethegus silently seated himself on the _lectus_ (a small couch),throwing the superficial glance of a critic at a Mosaic pictureinserted into the opposite wall. While the priest was occupied inpouring wine from an amphora with large curving handles into some cupswhich stood ready, and placing a metal dish of fruit on the bronzetripod table, Rusticiana stood opposite Cethegus, measuring him with anexpression of astonishment and indignation.

  Scarcely forty years of age, this woman showed traces of a rare--andrather manly--beauty, which had suffered less from time than fromviolent passions. Here and there her raven-black braids were streakedwith white, not grey, and strong lines lay round the mobile corners ofher mouth.

  She leaned her left hand on the table, and meditatively stroked herbrow with her right, while she gazed at Cethegus. At last she spoke.

  "Tell me, tell me, Cethegus, what power is this that you have over me?I no more love you. I ought to hate you. I do hate you. And yet I mustinvoluntarily obey you, like a bird under the fascinating eye of asnake. And you place my hand, _this_ hand, in that of that miserableman! Say, you evil-doer, what is this power?"

  Cethegus was inattentively silent. At last, leaning back, he said:"Habit, Rusticiana, habit."

  "Truly, 'tis habit! The habit of a slavery that has existed ever sinceI can remember. It was natural that as a girl I should admire thehandsome son of our neighbours; that I believed in your love wasexcusable, did you not kiss me? And who could--at that time--know thatyou were incapable of loving anything--even yourself? That the wife ofBoethius did not smother the mad passion which, as if in sport, youagain fanned into a flame, was a sin; but God and the Church haveforgiven it. But that I should still, after knowing for years yourutter heartlessness, when the glow of passion is extinguished in myveins, that I should still most blindly follow your demoniac will--thatis folly enough to make me laugh aloud."

  And she laughed wildly, and pressed her right hand to her brow.

  The priest stopped in his domestic occupations and looked stealthily atCethegus. He was intensely interested.

  Cethegus leaned his head back against the marble moulding, and with hisright hand grasped the drinking-cup which stood before him.

  "You are unjust, Rusticiana," he said quietly, "and confused. You mixthe sports of Eros with the works of Eris and the Fates. You know thatI was the friend of Boethius, although I kissed his wife. Perhaps justfor that reason. I see nothing particular in that. And you--well,Silverius and the saints have forgiven you. You know further, that Ihate these Goths, mortally hate them; that I have the will and--morethan all others--the power to carry through that which is now yourgreatest wish, to revenge your father, whom you loved, and yourhusband, whom you honoured, on these barbarians.

  "Therefore you obey my instigations, and you are wise in so doing; foryou have a decided talent for intrigue, but your impetuosity oftenclouds your judgment. It spoils your finest plans. Therefore it is wellthat you follow cooler guidance. That is all. But now go. Your slave iscrouching, drunk with sleep, in the vestibule. She believes that youare in the confessional with friend Silverius. The confession must notlast too long. And we also have business to transact. Greet Camilla,your lovely child, for me, and farewell."

  He rose, took her hand, and led her gently to the door. She followedreluctantly, nodded to the priest at parting, looked once more atCethegus, who appeared not to observe her inward emotion, and went out,slightly shaking her head.

  Cethegus sat down again and emptied his cup of wine.

  "A strange struggle in this woman's nature," remarked Silverius, andsat down by Cethegus with stylus, wax-tablets, letters and documents.

  "It is not strange. She wishes to atone for having wronged her husbandby avenging him," said Cethegus. "And that she can accomplish this bymeans of her former lover, makes the sacred duty doubly sweet. To besure, she is not conscious of it.--But what have we to do?"

  The two men now began their business: to consider such points of theconspiracy as they did not judge advisable to communicate to all themembers of the league.

  "At present," began the archdeacon, "it is above all things necessaryto ascertain the amount of this fortune of Albinus, and decide upon itsappropriation. We assuredly require money, much money."

  "Money affairs are your province,"--said Cethegus, drinking. "Iunderstand them, of course, but they annoy me."

  "Further," continued Silverius, "the most influential men in Sicilia,Neapolis, and Apulia must be won over to our cause. Here is the list oftheir names, with notes annexed. There are men amongst them who are notto be allured by the usual means."

  "Give it to me," said Cethegus, "I will manage that," And he cut up aPersian apple.

  After an hour's hard work, the most pressing business was settled, andthe host replaced the documents, in a secret drawer in the wall behindthe crucifix.

  The priest was tired, and looked with envy at his companion, whosepowerful frame and indefatigable spirit no late hours or exertionseemed able to exhaust.

  He expressed something of the sort, as Cethegus again filled the silvercup.

  "Practice, friend, strong nerves, and," added Cethegus, smiling, "agood conscience; that is the whole secret."

  "Yes, but in earnest, Cethegus, you are a riddle to me in otherrespects."

  "I should hope so."

  "Oh ho! do you consider yourself such a superior being that I cannotfathom you?"

  "Not at all. But still sufficiently deep to be to others no less ariddle than--to myself. Your pride in your knowledge of mankind may beat ease. I am no wiser about myself than you are. Only fools aretransparent."

  "In fact," said the priest, expatiating on the subject, "the key toyour nature must be difficult to find. For example, look at the membersof our league. It is easy to say what motives have led them to join us.The hot young courage of a Licinius; the pig-headed but honest sense ofjustice of a Scaevola; as for myself and the other priests--our zeal forthe honour of God."

  "Naturally," said Cethegus, drinking.

  "Others are induced by ambition, or are in hopes that they may cut offthe heads of their creditors in a civil war; or they are tired of theorderly condition of this country under the Goths, or have beenoffended by one of these foreigners. Most of them have a naturalrepugnance to the barbarians, and are in the habit of seeing in theEmperor alone the master of Italy. But none of these reasons apply toyou, and----"

  "And," interrupted Cethegus, "that is very uncomfortable, is it not?For by knowledge of their motives one can govern men. Well, I am sorry,reverend friend, but I cannot help you. I really do not know myselfwhat my motive is. I am so curious about it, that I would gladly tellit to you--and allow myself to be governed--if I could only find itout. Only one thing I feel--that these Goths are my antipathy. I hatethese full-blooded fellows, wit
h their broad flaxen beards. I cannotbear their brutal good humour, their ingenuous youthfulness, theirstupid heroism, their unbroken natures. It is the impudence of chance,which governs the world, that this country, after such a history,possessing men like--like you and me--should be ruled by these Northernbears!"

  He tossed his head indignantly, closed his eyes, and sipped a smallquantity of wine.

  "That the barbarians must go, we are agreed," said Silverius, "and withthis, all is gained as far as I am concerned. For I only await thedeliverance of the Church from these heretical barbarians, who deny thedivinity of Christ, and make Him a demi-god. I hope that the primacy ofall Christendom will, as is fitting, incontestably fall to the share ofthe Roman Church. But as long as Rome is in the power of the heretics,while the Bishop of Byzantium is supported by the only orthodox andlegitimate Emperor----"

  "The Bishop of Rome cannot be the first Bishop of Christendom, nor themaster of Italy; and therefore the Roman Apostolic See, even whenoccupied by a Silverius, cannot be what it ought to be--the highest.And yet that is what Silverius wishes."

  The priest looked up in surprise.

  "Do not be uneasy, reverend friend. I knew this long ago, and have keptyour secret, although you did not confide it to me. But further----" Heagain filled his cup. "Your Falernian has been well stored, but it istoo sweet.--Properly speaking, you can but wish that these Goths mayevacuate the throne of the Caesars, and not that the Byzantines shouldtake their place; for in that case the Bishop of Rome would have againa superior bishop and an emperor in Byzantium. You must therefore,instead of the Goths, wish--not for an Emperor--Justinian--but--whatelse?"

  "Either," eagerly interrupted Silverius, "a special Emperor of theWestern Empire----"

  "Who, however," said Cethegus, completing the sentence, "would be onlya puppet in the hands of the holy Petrus----"

  "Or a Roman republic, a State of the Church----"

  "In which the Bishop of Rome is master, Italy the principal country,and the barbarian kings in Gaul, Germany, and Spain the obedient sonsof the Church. All very fine, my friend. But first the enemy must beannihilated, whose spoils you already divide. Therefore let us drink anold Roman toast: 'Woe to the barbarians!'"

  He rose and drank to the priest.

  "But," he added, "the last night-watch creeps on, and my slaves mustfind me in the morning in my bedchamber. Farewell!"

  With this he drew the _cucullus_ (hood) of his mantle over his head anddeparted.

  His host looked after him. "A very important tool!" he said to himself."It is a good thing that he is only a tool. May he always remain so!"

  Cethegus walked away from the Via Appia in a north-westerly direction,towards the Capitol, beneath which, at the northern end of the ViaSacra, his house was situated, to the north-east of the Forum Romanum.

  The cool morning air played refreshingly over his brow. He threw openhis mantle and deeply inflated his strong broad chest.

  "Yes, I am a riddle," he said to himself. "I join in a conspiracy andgo about by night, like a republican or a lover at twenty. Andwherefore? Who knows why he breathes? Because he must. And so I do whatI must. But one thing is certain, this priest may--perhaps must--becomePope; but he must not remain so long, else farewell my scarcely-avowedthoughts, which are yet but dreams and cloud-mists. Perhaps it may bethat from them will arise a storm that will decide my fate. See, itlightens in the east! 'Tis well; I accept the omen!"

  With these words he entered his house.

  In his bed-chamber he found a letter on the cedar table before his bed,tied with a silken string, and sealed with the royal seal. He cut thestring with his dagger, opened the double waxen tablets, and read:

  "To Cethegus Caesarius, the Princeps Senatus, Marcus AureliusCassiodorus, Senator.

  "Our lord and king lies on his death-bed. His daughter and heiress,Amalaswintha, wishes to speak with you before his end.

  "You are to undertake the most important office in the kingdom.

  "Hasten at once to Ravenna."