CHAPTER XXV.

  CONSULTATION.

  The next morning the Count invited the Imperial messenger to a privateconference. His daughter and Carna were present, as was also Claudian.

  "You have the latest news," the Count began. "Pray let us have them. Herewe know nothing. But tell us first how you got here. It was noticed thatyou did not hoist the standard till you were within the Haven. You didnot, I suppose, think it a safe flag to sail under."

  "Well," replied the messenger, "I thought it better to have no flag atall. But, to tell the truth, the Labarum is not just now exactly the bestpassport in the world."

  "You crossed from Gaul, I suppose?" the Count went on. "How are mattersthere?"

  "Constantine, with the legions he brought from here, and those that havejoined him since, is pretty well master of the country, and of Spain too."

  "And what is the Emperor doing? Did he let these provinces go without astruggle? Spain was the first province that Rome ever had, and Gaul wasthe second. None, I take it, have been so steadily profitable, and now weare to lose them."

  He rose from his seat, and walked up and down the room in an agitationwhich he could not conceal.

  "And the only man who could keep the Empire together is gone; butchered,as if he were a criminal!"

  The messenger said nothing to this outburst. He went on, "I believe hisMajesty proposes to admit Constantine to a share of the Imperial honours,to make him Caesar of Gaul and Spain."

  "What!" said the Count. "Do not my ears deceive me? This fellow, whom Ihave seen wearing the collar for the neglect of duty, recognized as hiscolleague by Augustus!"(59)

  "I do not pretend to know his Majesty's purposes, I can only say what isreported at head-quarters, and, it would seem, on good authority. But,"continued the speaker, in a voice from which he had studiously banishedall kind of emphasis, and looking as he spoke at the ceiling of the room,"your lordship is aware that the honours thus unexpectedly bestowed do notalways turn out to the advantage of those who receive them."

  "What do you mean?" asked the Count.

  "I mean that what is given may be taken away--and taken away with veryhandsome interest for the loan--when the proper time comes. Your lordshiphas not forgotten the name of Carausius."(60)

  "Well," said the Count, "this is not the old way Rome had of dealing withher enemies. But, 'other times, other manners.' Tell me now, if theAugustus has arranged or is going to arrange with Constantine, what aboutAlaric?"

  "Oh! he will be quiet for a time, or should be, if there is any truth in abarbarian's oath. You have heard how he marched on Rome?"

  "No, indeed," replied the Count. "I have heard nothing here, except, quiteearly in the year, a vague rumour that he was on the move again. But tellme--has Augustus given _him_, too, a share in the Empire?"

  "Not exactly; but I will tell what has taken place. He marched on Rome."

  "Yes," interjected the Count, "and there was no Stilicho to save it!"

  "The city was almost helpless. Even the walls had not been kept in repair,and if they had, there was no proper force to man them. The only thingpossible was to make peace on the best terms that they could. I happenedto be in Alaric's camp with a letter, under a flag of truce, the very daythat the ambassadors came out to treat with the king, and I saw the wholeaffair. I don't mind saying that it was not one to make a man feel proudof being a Roman. The barbarians, it seemed to me, had not only all thestrength on their side, but the dignity also. Alaric himself is a splendidspecimen of humanity, every inch a king, the tallest and handsomest man inhis army, and that, too, an army of giants. It was a contrast, I can tellyou, between him and the two miserable, pettifogging creatures thatrepresented the Senate. At first they tried what a little brag could do.'Give us an honourable peace,' said their spokesman, 'or you will repentof having driven to despair a nation of warriors, a nation that hasconquered the world.' The king laughed; he knew what the Romans have cometo. 'The thicker the hay,' he said, 'the easier to mow.' And then he fixedthe ransom that he would take for retiring from before the walls. Brennusthrowing his sword into the scales was moderation in comparison to him.'Give me,' he said, 'all the gold and silver, coined or uncoined, privateproperty or public that you have, and all the other property that theenvoys whom I shall send think worth taking; and hand over to me all theslaves that you have of the nations of the North, Goths, or Huns, orVandals. You are pleased to call them barbarians, but they are more fit tobe masters than you; and I will not suffer them to be in a bondage sounworthy. Your Greeks, and Africans, and Asiatics, and such like cattleyou may keep.' The ambassadors were pale with dismay. If they had takenback such an answer, the Romans had at least enough spirit left to tearthem in pieces. 'What do you leave us, then?' they said. 'Your lives!' hethundered out. In the end, however, he softened somewhat. Five thousandpounds of gold and thirty thousand pounds of silver, and I don't know howmuch silk, and cloth, and spices, were what he finally asked. I know thecity was stripped pretty bare before the Senate could make up the sum. Iam told that the treasuries of the churches had to be emptied. Well, as Isaid, Alaric, if he keeps his bargain, ought to be quiet for a time, butyou will see that the Emperor has need of all his friends round him, andall the strength which he can bring together. That is what I have to sayby way of explanation of the despatch that I brought."

  "May I ask you to leave us for a while?" said the Count to the youngItalian.

  When he had left the room the Count turned to his daughter, and said--

  "And this is our country! This is Rome! The Emperor, forsooth, has need ofall his friends. His friends indeed! I little thought that the day wouldcome when I should feel ashamed of the title. But tell me, daughter; whatshall we do? Shall we go?"

  "What else can we do?" asked the girl.

  "I have thought much about the matter since I heard the dreadful news ofStilicho's death, and have had all kinds of wild schemes in my head. Ihave felt that I could not go back and touch in friendship the hands thatmurdered him. Sometimes I thought, while Cedric was here, that we wouldtake him with us, and sail eastward. I have had many a hard fight withthese Saxons, but at least they are men, and brave men, too, who are trueto their friends, if they hate their enemies. But that is now at an end.But is there no other way to go? What say you, Claudian--have you anycounsel to give us?"

  "I would not advise you to sail eastward," said the poet. "We know prettywell what lies that way; tribes of barbarians, of whom the less we see thebetter, with all respect to your friend Cedric, who seems to have been afine fellow. But why not westward? You will laugh at me for believing inthe Islands of the Blest. Well, I do not mean to say that there is acountry where Achilles and the rest of the heroes are living in immortaljoy and peace. If there is, it is not one which any ship, built by the artof man, can reach. But I do believe that there is a country. These oldtales, depend upon it, have something more in them than mere fancy. Why,my lord, should not you be the one to find it?"

  "Yes, let us go, dear father," said AElia, "and leave this dreadful worldwith all its troubles and quarrels behind us. Don't you think so, Carna?"

  Carna only smiled sadly.

  "Or," continued the poet, "there is the land beyond the north, the countryof the blessed Hyperboreans, that old Herodotus talks about. Why should wenot go there? Or, if that sounds too wild, there is Africa, with regionsrich and fertile beyond all doubt that are waiting to be explored. Theseat least are no matter of legend. We know where they are. Let us searchfor them. Whatever world we may find, it can hardly be worse than thatwhich we are leaving behind."

  "And what says Carna?" said the Count, turning, with an affectionate look,to his adopted daughter.

  The girl thus appealed to flushed painfully. For a moment she seemed aboutto speak, but not a syllable passed her lips.

  "Speak," cried the Count; "you always see clearer and farther than therest of us."

  "My father," the girl went on, "I w
ill speak from my heart, as I know youalways wish me to do. Forgive me if I seem to teach when it is my part tolearn and to obey. But, if you ask what I think you should do, I say, 'Gohome to Rome or Ravenna, or wherever else the Emperor bids you.' Afterall, it is your country, and it never needed the help of good and bravemen more than it does now."

  "By heaven! Claudian," cried the Count, after a brief silence, "the girlis right, as she always is. These are not the times for an honest man toturn his back upon his country. If I could reach the Islands of the Blest,or the happy people who live beyond the north, as easily as I can walkacross this room, I would not do it; and after all, what is the worldwithout Rome to a Roman? What say you, Claudian?"

  "I am but a poor singer, who has lost all that made him sing. I could dolittle in any case, and I doubt whether those who killed Stilicho willhave anything but the axe for Stilicho's friend. Still, I go with you. Itis not for a Roman to say that Rome is unworthy."

  "So that is settled," exclaimed the Count.

  "Oh, Carna," cried AElia, throwing her arms round her sister, "shall weever be as happy again as we have been in this dear place?"

  Carna clung to her, and sobbed as if her heart would break.

  "Does it trouble you so much to go?" asked the Count. "Surely the place isnot so much to you. You can be happy, wherever you may be, with those youlove."

  The girl lifted up a tear-stained face to him.

  "Father," she said--"more than father, for you have loved me without anytie of kindred--I cannot go, my home is here."

  "Nay, child, what are you saying? Your home has been with us ever sinceyou were a babe in arms, and it is so still; or," he added, with a smile,"are you going to leave us for a husband?"

  The girl blushed crimson as she shook her head. When she could recover herspeech, choked, as it was, with sobs, she said--

  "You asked me just now what you should do, and I said 'Go home to yourcountry.' Can I do less myself? Rome is your country, and Britain is mine.And oh, if Rome wants all her sons and daughters, how much more does thispoor Britain!"

  "But where will you live?" broke in the Count's daughter; "Where will yoube safe? Think of the dreadful things you have gone through within thelast few months! How can you bear to face them with your friends gone?And, dearest Carna," she went on, as she clasped her still closer, "howcan I live without you?"

  "My dearest sister," sobbed the girl, "don't make it harder than it is. Itbreaks my heart to part from you, but I cannot doubt what my duty is. AndI am not without hope. There are brave men here, and men who love theircountry, and I cannot but trust that they will be able to do something. Ofcourse, we shall stumble, for we have not been used to go alone, but I dohope that we shall not fall altogether."

  "But, Carna, what can you do?" said AElia. "You seem to be sacrificingyourself for nothing."

  "Not for nothing; it is something if I can only sit at home and pray. Butit must be at home that I must pray. God would not hear me if I were toput myself in some safe, comfortable place, and then pretend to care forthe poor people whom I had left behind."

  She hurried from the room when she had said this, as if she could nottrust herself against persuasions that touched her heart so nearly.

  "Carna is right," said the Count, when she had gone, "but I feel as if shewere going to her death."