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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/20219-8.txt b/20219-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..65e254f --- /dev/null +++ b/20219-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8280 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Lion's Brood, by Duffield Osborne + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Lion's Brood + + +Author: Duffield Osborne + + + +Release Date: December 29, 2006 [eBook #20219] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LION'S BROOD*** + + +E-text prepared by Al Haines + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustration. + See 20219-h.htm or 20219-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/2/1/20219/20219-h/20219-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/2/1/20219/20219-h.zip) + + + + + +THE LION'S BROOD + +by + +DUFFIELD OSBORNE + +Author of "The Spell of Ashtaroth," "The Secret of the Crater" + + + + + + + +[Frontispiece: Here and there a Gaul would bound +forward . . . to throw himself prone beneath +the vermilion hoofs.] + + + +New York +Doubleday Page & Company +1904 +Copyright, 1901, +by Doubleday, Page & Co. + + + + +To the Memory of + +HOWARD SEELY + +BRILLIANT WRITER, TRUE-HEARTED GENTLEMAN, + +STANCH AND LOYAL FRIEND + + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +PART I. + +INTRODUCTION + + +CHAPTER + + I. NEWS + II. WORDS + III. PARTING + IV. FABIUS + V. TEMPTATION + VI. DISOBEDIENCE + VII. PUNISHMENT + VIII. DISGRACE + IX. HOME + X. CONVALESCENCE + XI. POLITICS + XII. BRAWLINGS + XIII. THE RED FLAG + XIV. CANNAE + XV. "WITHIN THE RAILS" + + +PART II. + + I. THE QUEEN OF THE WAYS + II. THE GATE + III. PACUVIUS CALAVIUS + IV. THE HOUSE OF THE NINII CELERES + V. THE BANQUET + VI. ALLIES + VII. "FREEDOM" + VIII. DIPLOMACY + IX. THE BAIT + X. MELKARTH + XI. THE SLAVE + XII. FLIGHT + XIII. WINTER QUARTERS + + + + +PART I. + + +THE LION'S BROOD. + + +INTRODUCTION. + +Centuries come and go; but the plot of the drama is unchanged, and the +same characters play the same parts. Only the actors cast for them are +new. + + +It is much worn,--this denarius,--and the lines are softened and +blurred,--as of right they should be, when you think that more than two +thousand years have passed since it felt the die. It is lying before +me now on my table, and my eyes rest dreamily on its helmeted head of +Pallas Nicephora. There, behind her, is the mint-mark and that word of +ancient power and glory, "Roma." Below are letters so worn and +indistinct that I must bend close to read them: "--M. SERGI," and then +others that I cannot trace. + +Perhaps I have dozed a bit, for I must have turned the coin, +unthinking, and now I see the reverse: a horseman, in full panoply, +galloping, with naked sword brandished in his left hand, from which +depends a severed head tight-clutched by long, flowing hair. + +The clouds hang low over the city, as I peer from my tower +window,--driving, ever driving, from the east, and changing, ever +changing, their fantastic shapes. Now they are the waving hands and +gowns of a closely packed multitude surging with human passions; now +they are the headlong rout of a flying army upon which press hordes of +riders, dark, fierce, and barbarous--horses with tumultuous manes, and +hands with brandished darts. Surely it is a sleepy, workless day! It +will be vain to drive my pen across the pages. + +I do not see the cloud forms now--not with my eyes, for they have +closed themselves perforce; but my brain is awake, and I know that the +eyes of Pallas Nicephora see them, and grow brighter as if gazing on +well-remembered scenes. + +Why not? How many thousand clinkings of coin against coin in purse and +pouch, how many hundred impacts of hands that long since are dust, have +served to dim your once clear relief! + +Surely, Pallas, you have looked upon all this and much more. Shall I +see aught with your eyes, lady of my Sergian denarius? Shall I see, +if, with you before me, I look fixedly at the legions of clouds that +cross my window an hour--two--three--even until the night closes in? + +Grant but a grain of this, O Goddess, and lo! I vow to thee a troop of +pipe-players upon the Ides of June. + + + + +I. + +NEWS. + +"A troop of pipe-players to Minerva on the Ides of June, if we win!" + +"And my household to Mars, if we have lost!" + +The speakers were hurrying along the street that leads down from the +Palatine Hill toward the Forum, and both were young. Their high shoes +fastened with quadruple thongs and adorned with small silver crescents +proclaimed their patrician rank. + +"Why do you vow as if the gods had already passed judgment, Lucius?" + +"Because, my Caius, I am very sure that a battle has been fought. What +else do these rumours mean that are flying through the city? rumours +that none can trace to a source. It is only a few minutes, since my +freedman, Atius, told me how the slaves report that our neighbour +Marcus Sabrius rode in last night through the Ratumenian Gate; and when +I sent to his house to inquire, the doorkeeper feigned ignorance. That +is only one of a hundred tales. Note the crowd thickening around us as +we approach the Forum, and how all are pressing in the same direction. +Study their faces, and doubt what I say if you can." + +"But is it victory or defeat?" + +"Answer me your own question, Caius. Is 'victory' or 'defeat' the word +that men do not dare to utter?" + +The face of Caius became grave. Then suddenly he burst out with:-- + +"You are right. I see it all now, even as you speak; and what hope had +we from the first? Who was the demagogue Flaminius that he should +command our army, going forth without the auspices--a consul that was +no consul at all in the sight of the gods! Then, too, there were the +warnings that poured in from all the country: the ships in the sky, the +crow alighting on the couch in the Temple of Juno, the stones rained in +Picinum--" + +"Foolish stories, my Caius; the dreams of ignorant rustics," replied +Lucius, smiling faintly. "Besides, you remember they were all +expiated--" + +"And who knows that they were expiated truly!" croaked an old woman +from a booth by the road. "Who does not know that, as Varro says, your +patrician magistrates would rather lose a battle than that a plebeian +consul should triumph! Varbo, the butcher, dreamed last night that his +son's blood was drenching his bed, and when he awoke, it was water from +the roof; and Arates, the Greek soothsayer, says that Varbo's son has +been slain in the water, and his blood--" + +But the young patricians, who had halted a moment at the interruption, +now hurried on with an expression of contempt on their faces. + +"That is what Flaminius stands for," resumed Lucius after a moment of +silence. "How can we look for success when such men are raised to the +command, merely because they _are_ such men; and when a Fabius and a +Claudius are set aside because their fathers' fathers led the armies of +the Republic to victory in the days when this rabble were the slaves +they should still be." + +The friends had turned into the Sacred Way. A moment later they +arrived at the Forum lined with its rows of booths nestled away beneath +massive porticoes of peperino, and with its columned temples standing +like divine sentinels about or sweeping away up the rugged slope of the +Capitoline to where the great fane of Jupiter Capitolinus shed its +protecting glory over the destinies of Rome. + +Below, the broad expanse of Forum and Comitia was thronged with a +surging crowd--patricians and plebeians,--elbowing and pushing one +another in mad efforts to get closer to the Rostra and to a small group +of magistrates, who, with grave faces, were clustered at the foot of +its steps. These latter spoke to each other in whispers, but such a +babel of sounds swelled up around them that they might safely have +screamed without fear of being overheard. + +The booths were emptied of their cooks and butchers and silversmiths. +Waving arms and the flutter of robes emphasized the discussions going +on on every side. Here a rumour-monger was telling his tale to a +gaping cluster of pallid faces; there a plebeian pot-house orator was +arraigning the upper classes to a circle of lowering brows and clenched +fists, while the sneering face of some passing patrician told of a +disdain beyond words, as he gathered his toga closer to avoid the +contamination of the rabble. + +One sentiment, however, seemed to prevail over all, and, beside it, +curiosity, party rancour, wrath, and contempt were as nothing. It was +anxiety sharpened even into dread that brooded everywhere and +controlled all other passions, while itself threatening at every moment +to sweep away the barriers and to loose the warm southern blood of the +citizens into a seething flood of furious riot or headlong panic. + +The two young men had descended into this maelstrom of popular +excitement, and were making such headway as they could toward the +central point of interest. Now and again they passed friends who +either looked straight into their faces, without a sign of recognition, +or else burst out into floods of information,--prayers for news or +vouchsafings of it,--news, good or bad, true or false. Perhaps +three-fourths of the distance had been covered at the expense of torn +togas and bruised sides, when a sudden commotion in front showed that +something was happening. The next moment the hard, stern face of +Marcus Pomponius Matho, the praetor peregrinus, rose above the crowd, +and then the broad purple band upon his toga, as he mounted the steps +of the Rostra. + +It seemed hours--almost days--that he stood there, grave and silent, +looking down into the sea of upturned faces, while the roar of the +multitude died away into a gentle murmur, and then into a silence so +oppressive that each man seemed to be holding his breath. Once the +magistrate's lips moved, but no words came from them, and strange +noises, as of the clenching of teeth and sharp, quick breathing, rose +all about. Then a voice came from his mouth, the very calmness of +which seemed terrible:-- + +"Quirites, we have been beaten in a great battle. Our army is +destroyed, and Caius Flaminius, the consul, is killed." + +For a moment there was stillness deeper almost than before, as if the +leadlike words were sinking slowly but steadily along passage and nerve +down to the central seats of consciousness; then burst forth a sound as +of a single groan--the groan of Jupiter himself in mortal anguish; and +then the noise of women weeping, the shrieking treble of age, and the +rumbling murmur of curses and execrations,--against senate and nobles, +against the rabble and their dead leader, but, above all, against +Carthage and her terrible captain. + +"Who are these men that slay consuls and destroy armies?" piped the +shrill voice of an aged cripple who had struggled up from where he sat +upon the steps of Castor, and was shaking the stump of a wrist toward +the north. + +"Are they not the men who surrendered Sicily that we might let them +escape from us at Eryx? Did they not give up their ships, and pay us +tribute, and scurry out of Sardinia that Rome might spare them? I--I +who am talking to you have seen their armies: naked barbarians from the +deserts, naked barbarians from the woods--not one well-armed man in +five--a rabble with a score of languages, to whom no general can talk. +_They_ to destroy the army of Rome--in her own land!--what crime have +we committed that the gods should deal with us thus?" + +"But the great beasts that tear up the ranks?" put in a young butcher, +one of the circle that had been drawn together about the veteran. + +"How did his elephants save Pyrrhus--and then we saw them for the first +time?" retorted the cripple. + +"You forget, that was before Rome had become the prey of demagogues; +before she had Flaminii for consuls." + +All turned toward the new speaker--the young patrician whom his +companion had called Lucius. He was a man perhaps twenty-five years of +age, of middle height, sparely built but as if of tempered steel, with +strong, commanding features and dark hawklike eyes that were now +glittering with passion. It was not a handsome face except so far as +strength and pride make masculine beauty, but it was the face of one +whom a man might trust and a woman love. + +The butcher was on the point of returning an angry retort, half to hide +his awe of the other's rank, when a friend caught him by the arm. + +"Do you not see it is Lucius Sergius Fidenas?" he whispered. + +The result of the warning was still doubtful, when a sudden commotion +in the crowd about them drew the attention of all to a short, thick-set +man of middle age, in the light panoply of a mounted legionary. Cries +went up from all about:-- + +"It is Marcus Decius." "He is from the army." "Tell us! what news?" + +For answer the newcomer turned from one to the other of his +questioners, with a dazed expression on his pale, drawn face. + +"What shall I say, neighbours?" he muttered at last. "My horse fell +just out there on the Flaminian road, and I came here on foot. I have +eaten nothing for a day." + +But they paid no attention to his wants, thronging around with almost +threatening gestures and crying:-- + +"What news? What news--not of yourself--of the army?--of the battle?" + +"There was no battle, and there is no army," said the man, dully. + +Sergius forced his way to the front and threw one arm about the +soldier. Then, turning to the crowd:-- + +"Stand back!" he cried, "and give him air. Do you not see the fellow +is fainting?" + +"No battle--and yet no army," repeated Decius, in a murmurous monotone, +when, for a moment, there were silence and space around him. "We +marched by the Lake Trasimenus, and the fog lay thick upon us. Then +came a noise of shouts and clash of arms and shrieks, but we saw +nothing--only sometimes a great, white, naked body swinging a huge +sword, and again a black man buried in his horse's mane that waved +about him as he rushed by--only these things and our own men +falling--falling without ever a chance to strike or to see whence we +were stricken." + +The crowd shuddered. + +"And the elephants?" + +"I did not see them. They say they are all dead." + +"And the consul?" + +"I do not know." + +Just then the cripple from the steps was pushed forward. + +"Flaminius is dead. He died fighting, as a Roman consul should. But +you? What are you, to let the pulse-eaters at him. You should have +seen how _we_ dealt with them off the Aegusian Islands." + +"Or at Drepana?" sneered the horseman, roused from his lethargy by the +other's taunt. + +"That was what a _patrician_ consul brought us to," muttered the +cripple, glancing at Sergius. "Do you know what the Claudian did? +When the sacred chickens would not eat, he cried out, 'Then they shall +drink,' and ordered them thrown overboard. How could soldiers win when +an impious commander had first challenged the gods?" + +"And what about Flaminius ordering our standards to be dug up when they +could not be drawn from the earth?" retorted the other. + +"Did he do that?" asked several, and for a moment the feeling that had +been with the cripple, and against the victim of this latest disaster, +seemed divided. + +Sergius perceived only too clearly that, in the present temper of men's +minds, the faintest spark could light fires of riot and murder that +might leave but a heap of ashes and corpses for the Carthaginian to +gain. Taking advantage of the momentary lull, he said in conciliatory +tones:-- + +"Flaminius neglected the auspices, and disaster came upon us for his +impiety, but it appears that he died like a brave soldier, and he is a +whip-knave who strikes at such. As for this man, he needs succour and +care. Stand aside, then, that I may take him where his wants may be +ministered to. There will soon be plenty of fugitives to fill your +ears with tales." + +"Not many, master, not many," murmured Decius, as the young man forced +a way for them through the crowd. "Some are taken, but most lie in the +defile of Trasimenus or under the waters of the Lake." + +Sergius hurried on, thinking of Varbo the butcher's dream, and of +Arates the Greek soothsayer's interpretation. + + + + +II. + +WORDS. + +Three days had passed since the awful news from the shore of Lake +Trasimenus had plunged Rome into horror and despair. Every hour had +brought in stragglers: horse, foot, fugitives from the country-side, +each bearing his tale of slaughter. Crowds gathered at the gates, +swarming about every newcomer, vociferous for his story, and then +cursing and threatening the teller because it was what they knew it +must be. + +In the atrium of Titus Manlius Torquatus, on the brow of the Palatine, +overlooking the New Way, was gathered a company of three: the aged +master of the house, a type of the Roman of better days, and a worthy +descendant of that Torquatus who had won the name; his son Caius, the +youth who had been with Sergius in the Forum; and Lucius Sergius +himself. All were silent and serious. + +The elder Torquatus sat by a square fountain ornamented with bronze +dolphins, that lay in the middle of the mosaic paving of the apartment. +The walls were painted half yellow, half red, after the manner of Magna +Grascia, while around them were ranged the statues of the Manlian +nobles. The roof was supported in the Tuscan fashion by four beams +crossing each other at right angles, and including between them the +open space above the fountain. + +It was the old man who spoke first. + +"Do not think, my Lucius, but that I see the justice of your prayer, or +that I wish otherwise than that Marcia should wind wool about your +doorposts. Still there is much to be said for delay. Surely these +days are not auspicious ones for marriages, and surely better will +come. You have my pledge, as had my dead friend Marcus Marcius in the +matter of her name. Do you think it was nothing for me to call a +daughter other than Manlia--and for a plebeian house at that? Yet she +is Marcia. Doubt not that I will keep this word as well." + +"Aye, but, father," persisted Sergius, "is it not something that she +should be mine to protect in time of peril?" + +"And who so able to protect as Lucius," put in Caius, with an admiring +glance, for Caius Torquatus was six years younger than his friend, and +admired him with all the devotion of a younger man. + +"Has it come that our house cannot protect its women?" cried the elder +Torquatus. "What more shameful than that our daughter should be +carried thus across a Sergian threshold--going like a slave to her +master!" He spoke proudly and sternly. Then, turning to Sergius, he +went on more gently: "Were you to remain in the city, my son, there +might be more force in what you claim; but you will go out with one of +the new legions that they will doubtless raise, and you will believe an +old man who says that it is not well for a soldier in the field to have +a young wife at home." + +Sergius flushed and was silent, lest his answer should savour of pride +or disrespect toward an elder. + +Suddenly they became conscious of a commotion in the street. Shrill +cries were borne to their ears, and, a moment later, blows fell upon +the outer door, followed by the grinding noise as it turned upon its +pivots. A freedman burst into the atrium. + +Titus Torquatus rose from his seat, and half raised his staff as if to +punish the unceremonious intrusion. Then he noted the excitement under +which the man seemed to be labouring, and stood stern and silent to +learn what news could warrant such a breach of decorum. + +"It is Maharbal, they say--" and the speaker's voice came almost in +gasps--"Maharbal and the Numidians--" + +"Not at the gates!" cried both young men, springing to their feet; but +the other shook his head and went on:-- + +"No, not that--not _yet_, but he has cut up four thousand cavalry in +Umbria with Caius Centenius. The consul had sent them from Gaul--" + +"Be silent!" commanded the elder Torquatus. "Surely I hear the public +crier in the street. Is he not summoning the Senate? Velo," he said, +turning to the freedman; "you are pardoned for your intrusion. Go, +now, and bear orders from me to arm my household, and that my clients +and freedmen wait upon me in the morning. It is possible that the +Republic may call for every man; and though I fear Titus Manlius +Torquatus cannot strike the blows he struck in Sicily, yet even _his_ +sword might avail to pierce light armour; and he is happy in that he +can give those to the State whose muscles shall suffice to drive the +point through heavy buckler and breastplate." + +"Shall it be permitted that I attend you to the Senate House?" asked +Caius. + +His father inclined his head, and, donning the togas which slaves had +brought, they hurried into the street, hardly noting that Sergius had +reseated himself and was gazing absently down into the water, counting +the ripples that spread from where each threadlike stream fell from its +dolphin-mouth source. + +He did not know how long he had sat thus, nor was he, perhaps, +altogether conscious of his motive in failing to pay the aged senator +the honour of accompanying him, at least so far as the gates of the +Temple of Concord. Sounds came to his ears from the apartments above: +the trampling of feet and bustle of preparation that told of Velo's +delivery of his patron's commands. Then a woman's laugh rang through +the passage that led back to the garden of the peristyle. + +Sergius rose and turned, just as a girl sprang out into the atrium, +looking back with a laughing challenge to some one who seemed to pursue +her, but who hesitated to issue from the protecting darkness. + +"What do you fear, Minutia," she cried. "My father and Caius have +gone, and there is no one--oh!" + +Suddenly she became conscious of Sergius' presence, and her olive +cheeks flushed to a rich crimson. Then she faced him with an air of +pretty defiance and went on:-- + +"No one here but Lucius Sergius Fidenas, who should have business +elsewhere." + +Sergius said nothing, but continued to stand with eyes fixed +thoughtfully upon her face. + +Her figure was tall, slender, and very graceful, her hair and eyes were +dark, and her features delicate and perfectly moulded. Over all was +now an expression of hoydenish mirth that bespoke the complete +forgetfulness of serious things that only comes to young girls. His +attentive silence seemed at last to disturb her. An annoyed look drove +the smile from her lips, and, with an almost imperceptible side motion +of her small head, she went on:-- + +"Surely Lucius Sergius Fidenas has not allowed my father to go to the +Senate House with only Caius to attend him! Lucius respects my father +too much for that--and too disinterestedly. It is an even more serious +omission than his failure to attend the consul at Trasimenus--" + +Sergius' eyes blazed at the taunt, and, struggling with the answer that +rose to his lips, he said nothing for fear he might say too much. + +The girl watched him closely. Her mirth returned a little at the sight +of his confusion, and, with her mirth, came something of mercy. + +"Oh, to be sure, his wound. I almost forgot that. Tell me, my brave +Lucius, did the Gauls bite hard when they caught you in the woods and +drove you and my brave uncle to Tanes? How funny for naked Gauls to +ambush Roman legionaries and chase them home! Father has not spoken to +Uncle Cneus since. He says it was his duty to have remained on the +field, and I suppose he thinks it was yours, too, instead of running +away like a fox to be shut up in his hole." + +Sergius had recovered his composure now, but his brow was clouded. + +"You are as cruel as ever, Marcia," he said. "And yet I know you have +heard that it was the men of my maniple who carried me away, senseless +from the blow of a dead man." + +"Oh, you _did_ kill him. I remember now," she resumed, with some +display of interest. "You had run him through, had you not? and he +just let his big sword drop on your head. I got Caius to show me about +it, and I was the Gaul. Caius did not stab me, but I let the stick +fall pretty hard, and Caius had a sore head for two days. I meant it +for you, because you are trying to make an old woman of me when I am +hardly a girl." + +"Marcia--" began Lucius; but she raised her hand warningly and went +on:-- + +"Do you want me to tell you why my father will not let you marry me +now? There are two reasons. One because I don't want him to, and +another because he thinks you must do something great to wipe out the +stain of a Roman centurion's even being _carried_ away before the +Gauls." + +"That will be an easy task, judging by the news we receive each day. I +wish I felt as certain of the safety of the Republic as I am that my +honour shall be satisfactorily vindicated." + +He spoke bitterly, but she went on without taking note of his meaning. + +"These are auspicious words, my Lucius. You will regain your honour; +father will once more receive you into his favour, and, by that time, I +shall doubtless be old enough to marry,--perhaps too old,--but, no, I +must not wait so long as that. Perhaps I shall have married some one +else by the time you are worthy of my favour." + +"More probably I shall have ceased to care for the favour of living men +and women." + +"Truly? And you think you will have to die? Perhaps you will be a +Decius Mus, and stand on the javelin and wear the Cincture Gabinus; and +then I shall mourn for you and hang so many garlands on your tomb that +all the shades of your friends will be mad with jealousy--" + +"Marcia, is it possible for you to be serious?" + +He was pale with suppressed passion, and, as he spoke, he stepped +forward and laid his hand upon her wrist. + +She sprang back and half raised a light staff she carried, while her +face flushed crimson. + +"I will be more serious than will please you," she said, "if you please +me as little as you do now. Learn, I am not your wife that you should +seek to restrain me, and it is quite possible that I never shall be." + +"You speak truly," he said; "it is quite possible that no woman shall +be a new mother to the house of Fidenas--that our name shall die in me. +So be it; and may the gods only avert the evils that threaten the +Republic, nor look upon one of the race of the Trojan Segestes as an +unworthy offering." + +Bending his head in respectful salutation, he turned toward the +entrance hall. + +Marcia stood silent beside the fountain, and her face clouded with +thought. The sound of her lover's footsteps grew fainter and fainter. +She started forward as if to follow him. Then she stopped and +listened. The noise of the street had drowned their echoes; the door +had creaked twice on its pivots. He was gone. Then she called, +"Lucius!" but there was no answer. Her eyes drooped with a little +frown of regret, but in a moment she turned away laughing. + +"Never mind. He cannot do anything very desperate yet, and I will +treat him better next time--perhaps." + + + + +III. + +PARTING. + +The ensuing days were pregnant with rumour and action. The waves of +terror and despair that lashed over the city, as blow after blow fell, +had now receded. The white banner, that was always lowered at the +approach of an enemy, still spread its undulating folds above +Janiculum; the crops and fruit trees and vines smiled upon the +hillsides; the flocks and herds browsed peacefully along the Campagna +with never a Numidian pillager to disturb their serenity; and, amid +all, there was no rumour of allied gates opened to receive the invader, +no welcome from the Italians whom he had striven to conciliate. +Courage returned, and with courage firmness, and with firmness +confidence to endure and dare and do, so long as invaders presumed to +set foot upon the heritage of Rome. + +How far this new confidence was born of the news that the Carthaginian +was turning aside to the west, through Umbria and Picenum, how far by +the rumour that Spoletum had closed her gates and repulsed his +vanguard, or how far by wrath at the tales of ravage and the numberless +murders of Roman citizens that marked his line of march, it would be +difficult to apportion. + +However these, the city was now seething with energetic preparation. +The Senate sat daily and into each night. No word of peace was +uttered--all was war and revenge. Quintus Fabius Maximus was elected +pro-dictator by a vote of the Comitia--not dictator, because that could +only be done through appointment by the surviving consul, then absent +in Gaul--or none knew where. By the same power, and in order to +appease the commons irritated by criticisms of Flaminius, Marcus +Minutius Rufus was elected master of the horse. Nor were the gods +neglected. Their stimulating influence was invoked by the dictator to +inspire the people with confidence, while he soothed them with the +intimation that Flaminius had failed rather through overcourage and +neglect of divine things than through mere plebeian temerity and +ignorance. Fabius took care to impress it upon all that he himself +would take full warning from the lesson. He moved that the Sibylline +books should be consulted, and the Senate promptly acted upon the +motion. These directed that a holy spring be proclaimed forthwith; +that every animal fit for sacrifice, and born between the Kalends of +March and May throughout all Italy, should be offered to Jupiter. +Votive games were decided upon, couches were set by the judges, whereon +the twelve gods should feast in splendour, temples were vowed, to Venus +Erycina by the dictator himself, to Mens by Titus Otacilius, the +praetor. + +But with all, and, as Fabius put it, that the immortal gods should not +be overburdened with the petty affairs of mortals, every care that +human prudence and warcraft could suggest was taken. Walls and towers +were strengthened, and bridges were broken down; the inhabitants of +open towns were driven into places of security, and their houses and +crops destroyed. Amid all, the rumour came that Servilius was +hastening back from Gaul; then, that he was close at hand, and, +finally, Fabius set out to meet him, sending orders in advance that the +consul should come without lictors, so that the dignity of the +dictatorship might stand high before the people. And when Servilius +had come, in all respects as commanded, then he, the consul, after +first delivering up his legions which he had left at Ariminum, was +ordered to Ostia and the fleet to keep watch and ward over the Italian +coast and to protect the corn ships. So all the armies of the Republic +went to the pro-dictator, together with authority to raise such more as +he should consider needful; two new legions in the place of those dead +on the shores of Trasimenus, and some thousands of poorer citizens from +the tribes, to man the quinqueremes of Servilius and the walls of Rome. + +Amid these days of bustle and preparation, Sergius had found little +difficulty in keeping his footsteps from Marcia's threshold. After the +first grief of the conviction that she did not love him, pride came to +his rescue. Should he, the head of the noblest house of the noble +Sergian gens, should he abase himself and submit to scornful words even +from a daughter of Torquatus? or, yet, should he, as a man, desire to +bear the torch before an unwilling bride? These were simple questions, +and there was but one word that could answer them; so Sergius struggled +to put Marcia from his heart, until he flattered himself that the +difficult task had at last been accomplished. + +During this internal struggle, there came, also, to help him, word that +he had been named as one of the military tribunes in the new Fourth +Legion, and, his wound being now almost well, he threw himself headlong +into the work of the levy and of exercising his men, striving to bring +them to such a degree of efficiency as might win honour for himself and +advantage to the Republic. Now and again twinges of the old heart-pain +would rack him, but he obstinately attributed all depression and +melancholy to the inferior quality, both physically and socially, of +many of the new levies, and to his misgivings as to the account they +would render of themselves when confronted by the veterans of Hannibal. + +At last the day of marching arrived, and with it the greatest struggle +of all. Suddenly a suspicion awoke within him, whispering that the +task he had set for himself was but poorly done; that the image of +Marcia still smiled unbanished above the altar of his heart; and, with +all his pride and strength, this suspicion of his weakness was, oddly +enough, a source of positive exultation. Caius had been with him +through much of his work, for Caius served in the same legion. It was +evident, however, that the young man had received strict orders on one +subject; for, in all their talks, the name of Marcia never passed his +lips. This was unlike Caius, who was thought by many to be given to +overmuch speaking, and, for that reason, it irritated Sergius the more, +who would sooner have cut away his hand than questioned his friend +concerning his sister. Thus the two men, illogically but humanly +enough, continued to grow apart, until, with never a thought but of +friendliness, their intercourse became limited, through sheer +embarrassment, to the commonplaces of fellow-soldiers who held light +acquaintance with each other's names and faces. + +As the hour drew near, the city bubbled with excitement, and the altars +of the gods reeked with unnumbered victims. Especially invoked were +Castor, Fortune, Liberty, and Hope, but, above all, the mighty trinity +of the Capitol. Lest the pang of so great a parting with men who were +about to encounter such grave dangers might sap the courage of those +remaining, and thence that of the new levies, the dictator had wisely +decreed that the army should assemble at Tibur. So it happened that +there was none to go now save himself and a small escort of cavalry, +five turmae, at the head of which was Sergius. With these went Rome's +last hope: the cast behind which lay only ruin, but for the averting +favour of the gods. + +At midday the fasces would be carried forth, and it lacked but an hour +of the time. Sergius had prepared everything; his men were ready to +mount at the blast of the trumpet, and his household was set in order +against the absence of its master. He was standing within the Viminal +Gate, while an attendant held his horse close by and a little apart +from the crowds of weeping women who surrounded the soldiers of the +dictator's escort. Suddenly he felt some one pluck him by the cloak, +and turned quickly to see a young woman in the single tunic of a slave. +Her dress, however, was of finer texture than that worn by most of her +class, and seemed to bespeak a rich mistress and especial favour. She +stood with her finger to her lips, her eyes great with the importance +of her mission. + +"My mistress, the Lady Marcia, orders that you come and bid her +farewell," she whispered hurriedly. + +Then she darted away among the crowd, before the young tribune could +make answer to an invitation so oddly worded. + +His first impulse was to show the Lady Marcia that he was not to be +dismissed and sent for--much less ordered back at the caprice of a +girl. His next was to humour the whim of a child, and his third was to +obey humbly and thankfully, without a thought but of Marcia's beauty +and his own good fortune. + +A word to his slave and another to his horse, whereat the former loosed +the bridle, and the latter knelt for his master. Then came a wild +gallop across the crest of the Viminal Hill, through the ill-omened +street where the wicked Tullia had driven over her father's corpse, +into the Forum, and out up the New Way to the house of Torquatus. + +Throwing his rein to the porter, Sergius entered the court of the +atrium, vacant and resounding to the hurried tread of his cothurni. +Pausing for a moment and hesitating to penetrate farther into the +house, he became aware that the porter had followed him. Like most of +his class, he was a man considerably past middle life, and thus +considered suited to the comparative ease and responsibility of his +position. With a freedom and garrulity born of long service, he +began:-- + +"It was a word I was commanded to deliver to the most noble Sergius, +and I doubt not it would have been well and truly delivered, but for +his springing from his horse so quickly and rushing past me. It is +possible that I might have come to him sooner had he not left me to +take care of the animal, and it needed time to summon the groom, whose +duty such work is. Therefore--" + +"By Hercules, man, give me the message! Do you think I can listen all +day to your gabbling?" cried the soldier, furious with impatience. + +A faint laugh seemed to come from somewhere beyond the hallway. + +"I was about to say, most noble lord," pursued the porter, hardly +ruffled by the outburst; "and I trust you will pardon me if I dallied +over-much; but--" + +Sergius raised his hand. Then, thinking better of the blow, he seized +the man by the throat. + +"Perhaps I can shake the words out like dice from a box. Now for the +Venus cast!" he cried, suiting the action to the speech. + +"Are you making trial of your strength that you may break more readily +into Carthaginian houses? Remember it is soldiers with whom you are to +contend." + +Sergius turned quickly, to see Marcia herself standing at the entrance +to the hall. In her eyes, on her lips, was malicious laughter; but a +little red spot on either cheek seemed to tell of some stronger feeling +behind. He had released the porter so quickly that the latter +staggered back almost into the fountain, and Marcia smiled. + +"I think I have been taking a great deal of trouble for the sake of a +very discourteous person," she said. "I sent Minutia to tell a certain +soldier that I am willing to bid him farewell, despite his +unworthiness, and he comes and nearly strangles poor old Rhetus for +trying to say that I was awaiting him in the peristyle." + +"Rhetus' attempt was not very successful, and my time was short," said +Sergius, growing alternately red and pale. + +"And so you thought to hasten his speech by closing his throat? Oh! +you are a wise man--a very logical man. They should have made _you_ +dictator, so that you could save Italy by surrendering Rome." + +"Is it to say such things that you sent for me?" asked Sergius, after a +pause during which he struggled against embarrassment and wrath. + +"Surely not, for how could I know that you were going to behave so +outrageously? If you will follow me, we will go into the peristyle." + +She turned back through the passage, and Sergius followed, issuing a +moment later into a large, cloister-like court, open in the middle, and +decorated with flowers and shrubs. Four rows of columns, half plain, +half fluted, supported the shed roof that protected the frescoes. +These covered three of the walls. On the back was a garden scene so +painted as to seem like a continuation of the court itself into the far +distance; on the right was the combat between Aeneas and Turnus, and on +the left a representation of the first Torquatus despoiling the slain +Gaul of the trophy from which the family took its name. + +"And now I will tell you why I sent." + +She had seated herself in a marble chair with wolf heads carved on the +arms, and her face had grown grave and thoughtful. + +"It was to tell you a dream--a dream of you that I had last night." + +Her cheek flushed, and Sergius' eyes sparkled. + +"You dreamt of _me_?" he said in a low voice. He half raised his arms +and came nearer; but she held up one hand in the old imperious manner. + +"If you please, I have not sent for you that you should grow +presumptuous, because I was unmaidenly enough to dream of so badly +behaved a person as yourself. It--it was because it--I thought you +should know, so that the omen might be expiated." + +Sergius had halted and was standing still. His lip curled slightly. + +"I dreamt," she went on, after a short pause, "that there was a wide +plain with mountains about it and a river running through; and it was +all heaped up with dead men--thousands upon thousands--stripped of arms +and clothing, and the air was gray with vultures, and the wolves and +foxes were calling to each other back among the hills. And I was very +sad and walked daintily so that my sandals and gown might not be +splashed with the blood that curdled in pools all about. Suddenly I +came to a heap of slain whereon _you_ were lying, with a long javelin +through your body. So I screamed and awoke--" + +"Surely, then, you felt sorrow," cried Sergius, who had followed the +narrative with deep interest, but who seemed to consider nothing of it +save the concern she had shown at his death. + +"I--I," she began; and then, as if angry with herself at the betrayal +of feeling and of her embarrassment, she burst out; "I did not send, +foolish one, that you should consider _me_. Look rather to yourself." + +But Sergius was full of the joy of his own thoughts. + +"That I shall do, my Marcia, by setting my mind upon things that are +better than myself--the Republic--you--" + +"Ah, but the omen?" + +"I shall put it aside together with the other: that you have called me +back from the march; and I shall consider both well expiated by the +knowledge that I am not as nothing to you." + +Her face grew pale, and she half rose from the chair. + +"Truly, I did not think about calling you back. It is terrible--all +this--and it is my doing--" + +"Then, if you wish, I shall lay it up against you," cried he, gayly, +"unless you promise to be Caia in my house--" + +"You are unfair to press me now and by such means." + +"But it must be now," exclaimed the young man, springing forward and +trying to catch her in his arms. "Do you not see I must leave you at +once? Shall it be without a promise?" + +The blush had turned again to little anger spots, as she evaded him. + +"Very well," she said slowly. "I will be Caia where thou art Caius--" + +Sergius' face shone with exultation, and his lips parted. + +"I will be Caia," she resumed, "upon the day when Orcus sends back the +dead from Acheron." + +His expression of joy faded, and indignation took its place. Surely +this was carrying light speech too far--and at such a time. Suddenly +he realized that the dictator might already have ridden on, and +disgrace have fallen upon a Sergius at the very beginning of the +campaign. + +"So be it! I accept that omen--with the others," he cried sternly, +and, turning, strode out through the atrium, bounded upon his horse, +and dashed headlong down the street, before Marcia was fairly aware +that he had gone from her presence. + + + + +IV. + +FABIUS. + +Sergius rode back to his men, deeply wounded in love and pride. He +tried to excuse Marcia for her treatment of him, on the score of her +youth and of youth's thoughtlessness; he blamed himself for his +abruptness and his lack of knowledge of women--failings that had +perhaps turned an impending victory into the defeat that now oppressed +him. Worst of all, there was no hope to remedy his or her fault. A +dangerous campaign lay before him, and the omens--but pshaw! _he_ was +not one of the rabble, to tremble at a flight of birds from the west or +an ox with a bad liver. He had always admired the spirit of that old +sceptic, Claudius, who had drowned the chickens off Drepana, though he +admitted the faulty judgment in failing to realize the effect of such a +defiance upon ignorant seamen and marines: the hierarchy was necessary +for the State; if only to keep fools in order, but for a man of family +and education--well, he smiled. It provoked him, amid all his +disbelief, that he could not help preferring that those same omens had +been more favourable. Pride, pride was his last and truest safeguard. +He, a descendant of the companion of Aeneas, to fear the Carthaginian +sword! he, a Roman noble, about to face death for his country, to waste +his thoughts upon a silly girl who chose to flout him! + +Then the long clarions of the cavalry rang out, and the horsemen ran to +their steeds. Down the slope of the Viminal rode the dictator: before +him went the twenty-four axes, each in its bundle of staves, their +bearers robed in military cloaks of purple cloth; behind came a small +troop of illustrious Romans--his legati, his staff, nominated by him +and sanctioned by the Senate for their fame and skill in war; also such +senators as had elected, by way of personal compliment, to ride with +the general and to partake as volunteers in whatever share of the war +he might set for them. + +Quintus Fabius Maximus seemed a man just passing the prime of life. +His figure, as he sat his horse, was squat rather than tall, though +this appearance might be due, in a measure, to the great breadth of his +shoulders; altogether his frame seemed one better adapted to feats of +strength and endurance than for those of agility. The face, with its +grizzled hair and beard, both cut short, suited well the figure that +bore it. Dignity, firmness, and kindliness were in its strong and +rugged outlines, with less, perhaps, of the pride of race and rank than +might have been looked for in the head of the great family whose name +he bore--he who was now twice dictator of the destinies of Rome. For +dress, his purple cloak, similar to those of his lictors, hung loosely +from his shoulders to below his knees, and, opening in front, disclosed +a corselet of leather overlaid with metal across chest and abdomen, and +embossed with bronze designs of ancient pattern and workmanship. The +hem of the white tunic showed below the leathern pendants that hung a +foot down from his girdle; the greaves were ornamented at the knees +with lions' heads; an armour-bearer carried his master's bronze helmet +with its crest of divergent red plumes. + +Such was the man upon whom Rome now depended for her saving--"for +victory," dreamed such of the unthinking as had recovered from their +terror; "for time, time, time," reasoned the man with the deep-set, +gray eyes upon whom they had pinned their faith. + +Hardly a stride behind him rode Marcus Minucius Rufus, tall and +well-built, with bold, coarse features and fierce, roving eyes. His +red hair bristled from his brow, and he seemed to restrain with +difficulty either his steed or himself from darting forward into the +lead. + +"Yonder is the sword of the Republic," said one of Sergius' men, as the +master-of-the-horse rode by the escort; but the man to whom he said +it--an old soldier of the Spanish wars--only shrugged his shoulders. A +moment later he grunted in reply:-- + +"Like enough; but it is a shield that the Republic needs most of all." + +Then the clarion summoned them to fall in behind the dictator's +company, and the troop rode out from the gate--out into the broad +plain--away from the protecting walls fluctuant with waving stoles, and +from which tear-dimmed eyes strove to follow them among the villas, +farms, and orchards of the country-side--away from the Forum, from the +sacred fig tree and the black stone of Romulus--away from the divine +triad that kept guard over the Capitol. Beyond lay the Alban +Mountains, and, beyond these,--no one knew where,--the strange dangers +that awaited them: fierce Spaniards with slender blades as red as the +crimson borders of their white coats; wild Numidian riders that always +fell upon the rear of Rome's battle; serried phalanges of Africans, +veterans of fifty wars; naked Gauls with swords that lopped off a limb +at every stroke; Balearic slingers whose bullets spattered one's brains +over the ground; Cretans whose arrows could dent an aes at a hundred +yards; and above all, over all, the great mind, the unswerving, +unrelenting purpose that had blended all these elements into one +terrible engine of destruction to move and smite and burn and ravage at +the touch of a man's will. + +The cavalry rode two and two, thinking of such things; picked men, +equipped in the new Greek fashion with breastplate, stout buckler, and +strong spear pointed at both ends. What thoughts held the mind of the +general, none could fathom. With head slightly inclined he seemed to +study, now the ribbons woven in his horse's mane, now the small, +sensitive ears that pricked backward and forward, as the Tiburtine Way +flowed sluggishly beneath. As for Minucius, he alone seemed hopeful +and unimpressed by the dangers that menaced. He glided here and there, +reining his horse beside this senator or that lieutenant to utter a +word of the safety assured to Rome and of the ruin that hung over the +invader, or even calling back to the foremost of the escort some rough +badinage upon their gloomy looks; for Minucius was a man of the people, +scorning patrician pride of race, and wishing it known that, however +high his rank, he held himself no whit better than any potter of the +Aventine or weaver of the Suburra. + +So, riding, thinking, talking, they reached Tibur, where the new levies +lay encamped. + +Thence began the march of the army--a long, weary march to strike the +line of the Carthaginian devastators; and, as it rolled onward, the +stream of war gathered volume. At Daunia they were joined by the +legions of Servilius that had marched down from Ariminum; and, at every +point, contingents of the allies poured in, until even the most timid +began to believe it impossible that disaster could befall, and grew +first confident, then defiant, then boastful. + +To the mind of the dictator himself, however, came no such change. He +alone knew the danger, he alone knew the value of the force with which +he must meet it--soldiers in whose minds, despite all their present +spirit, lingered the tradition of defeat; raw levies not yet truly +confident of their officers or themselves, however much the sight of +their numbers and their brave show might blind them to the fact that +there was another side to the war. + +And now rumours began to reach them of the enemy. He was at Praetutia, +at Hadriana, at Marrucina, at Frentana! He had set out toward Iapygia! +he had reached Luceria! and everywhere the country was a garden before +him and a desert behind. Only one gleam of light shone through the +darkness,--the Apulians submitted to ravage, but they refused to save +their lands by joining fortunes with the invaders. + +At last came the day of trial. "The enemy was at hand." Scouts poured +in with news of foraging parties, of masses of troops on the march; and +at Aecae the dictator ordered the camp to be pitched and fortified in +the order that Roman discipline prescribed, with rampart and ditch and +stakes--a city in embryo. + +Now it was that the boasters must stand by their boasts. + +Scarcely had the morning broke, when the distant mist of the plain +seemed to sparkle with myriads of glittering points--seemed to thicken +and become dense with clouds of dust. Mingled noises came to the ears +of the waking legions,--the neighing of horses, the inarticulate murmur +of a multitude, the dull rumble of marching men, the ring of arms and +accoutrements. + +Then came the order from the praetorium,--not to advance the standards, +but to man the rampart and to repel. Such was not the custom of +Rome--to refuse battle amid the ravaged lands of her allies. Had the +heart of the dictator grown cold? Forthwith the pale cheeks of the +boasters flushed again; lips that had been compressed, before the +terrors they had so rashly invoked, parted in wonder and complaint; the +mist rose, and the sun pierced through the settling dust. There stood +the enemy, drawn up in order of battle across the plain, and waiting; +too far away for the Romans to make out their form or equipment--just a +long, dense array that seemed dark or light in spots. Now and again a +trumpet rang out its distant note of defiance; now and again some +portion of the line seemed to manoeuvre or change front, as if to tempt +attack, while from time to time a flurry of horsemen--dark-skinned +riders, bending low upon the necks of wiry little steeds and urging +them with shrill, barbarous cries--swept almost up to the ditch, and +brandished their darts, making obscene gestures and shouting words that +brought the blood to the faces of the garrison, though they understood +not the tongue that uttered them. + +A circle of officers surrounded the dictator's tent. Some were silent +and shamefaced; some were vociferous of their desire to be allowed to +go forth and fight, or, at least, to lead out the cavalry to chastise +the insolence of slaves and barbarians; all were wondering and +dissatisfied. Few, however, ventured to express their full thoughts. +There was a something in the very mildness of the general that +discouraged too direct criticism. Only Minucius, presuming, perhaps on +his position of second in command, perhaps on his contempt for the +great houses, sought the dictator's presence and spoke as if half to +him, half to the company of officers. Even his first words but thinly +veiled his feelings. + +"The enemy await us in line of battle, my master, but I do not see the +red flag above your tent. Is it your will that the standards be +advanced?" + +"No, Marcus, it is not my will, or the signal would have been +displayed," said Fabius, calmly. + +"The troops are eager to be led out; the enemy insult us up to the very +ditch. Italy is wasted," went on Minucius; but, as if slightly cowed +by the deep, gray eyes, his tone seemed less aggressive. + +Fabius paused a moment, before answering, and glanced around upon the +lowering faces of legates and tribunes. Then he said:-- + +"It is proper, Quirites, that I should say something to you of my +plans. Our men are new--untried. Those that have seen service have +seen defeat. The enemy are flushed with victory, full of confidence in +themselves and their general, well seasoned in battle. Has the +Republic a new army if this be lost? But happily there is another side +to the picture. We are in our own lands. Our supplies are +inexhaustible; _we_ receive; _they_ must take. We shall wear them out +in skirmishes, cut off their foragers--men whom they cannot replace, +while we replace our losses daily and season ourselves in battle and +grow to see that even Carthaginians are not immortal." + +There was a moment of silence. Then Minucius spoke again. + +"And, while we pursue this prudent policy, what becomes of the spirit +of our men who see that their general dares not face the enemy? What +becomes of the allies who see their fields wasted and cities burned, +while Rome lies silent in her camps and offers no succour?" + +Fabius' brow clouded, but he spoke even more mildly than before. + +"There is much of truth in what you say Marcus; but I am convinced that +there is less danger in such risks than in tempting the fate of +Flaminius; and there are many compensations, together with certain +victory in the end." + +And then the master-of-the-horse lost control of his temper; his voice +rose, and he cried out:-- + +"You are general and you command, but you shall hear me when I say that +I had rather have perished bravely with a Flaminius than live to +conquer in such cowardly fashion with a Fabius." + +A murmur of half-uttered applause ran around the circle, but Fabius did +not seem to hear it. He eyed his lieutenant calmly for an instant. +Then he said:-- + +"You speak truth, Marcus, when you say that I am general;" and, turning +his back upon Minucius, he passed through the line of officers, as they +fell aside to give him way, and proceeded slowly toward the praetorian +gate. + +Here, among the soldiers, discontent with the dictator's policy was as +strong as it had been in the praetorium, while its expression was less +governed by the amenities of rank. Roman discipline, however severe as +to the acts of the legionary, put very few restrictions upon his +speech; and the general, as he watched from the rampart the lines and +movements of the enemy, heard many comments no less uncomplimentary +than those of his master-of-the-horse, and couched in language almost +as coarse as that of the Numidians themselves. It seemed as if the +foul words of the barbarians were passed on thus to the man held +responsible for Romans being compelled to listen to such insults. + +Curiously enough, the centurions and under officers appeared to be the +only ones not hostile to Fabius' policy. These were silent or even +made some efforts to restrain the ribaldry of their men. + +As for the general himself, no one could have appeared less conscious +of the storm his orders had provoked. His eyes were still fixed upon +the distant array, and when, as the sun almost touched the meridian, +Lucius Sergius approached with despatches just arrived from Rome, he +was compelled to speak twice before the other was aware of his +presence. Then the dictator turned quickly, and, pointing to the +Carthaginians, exclaimed:-- + +"See! they are withdrawing. Do you not note how thin the centre grows? +Ah! I shall teach them new lessons of war--new lessons. They will find +in me no Flaminius, to let my enemy choose the day and field of battle." + +Leaving the ramparts, they walked back toward the praetorium, Fabius +breaking the seals and reading the letters as he walked. When they +reached the tent, he stood still for a moment and seemed to study the +face of the young tribune who had followed, a half pace behind, to +receive any answer or order that might be forthcoming. + +"What is your opinion of my refusing battle?" he asked suddenly, after +a short silence. + +Sergius turned crimson, but he answered quickly:-- + +"I have learned to trust in my general until such time as I know him to +be unworthy of trust." + +Fabius smiled. + +"Some of your colleagues appear to have already arrived at the latter +conclusion," he said. Then, after a pause, he went on: "After all, it +is the judgment of the centurions that counts for most. Our legates +and tribunes feel disgraced by our refusing a challenge; they may be +sneered at for _that_, but who would blame _them_ for the defeat that +might follow its acceptance. The common soldier knows only his rage +against the enemy, sees his comrades about him furious for battle, and +comprehends nothing of its dangers. It is the centurions, our +veterans, who realize the truth: the worth of their own men as measured +against those of the enemy; nor are they puffed up with foolish pride +of rank. You observe, sir, that the centurions are with me." + +Sergius bowed. + +"Now mark well what will happen," pursued Fabius. "Hannibal will +retreat to his camp; he will break camp and march off during the night. +He must have forage, and he cannot scatter his forces while I am near. +He will escape, and I shall let him, rather than risk the army in a +night battle; but I shall hang close as the father-wolf to the stag's +haunch, keeping nevertheless to the high ground, where his cavalry +cannot trouble me. There will be need of good horsemen who shall cling +yet closer and advise me of his movements." + +Sergius' eyes flashed with eagerness, but he said nothing. + +"You will attend to this service," continued Fabius, not seeming to +regard the young officer's exultation. "Take the other five turmae of +your legion--not those of the escort. You must have light cavalry to +cope with the Numidians, and your Greek horsemen are too heavily +equipped. Assemble your men, watch the enemy, follow him when he +marches tonight, cut off his stragglers, and send such words to me as +you consider necessary. This shall be your reward for trusting greater +things to your general." + +Turning, he entered the tent, before the tribune could express his +thanks. + +Deeply impressed by the favour and confidence of the dictator, Sergius +hurried away to his quarters, and, sending for Marcus Decius, the +decurion who had told the news of Trasimenus to the crowd of the Forum, +he directed him to see that the horses were fed and the men in +readiness for a night march. Then he resigned himself to sleep and +dreams of a certain pictured peristyle on the Palatine Hill,--a +peristyle wherein a maid sat spinning by a fountain and thinking--of +what? Perhaps of him--for he was only dreaming, and maidens do not +always think as men dream. + + + + +V. + +TEMPTATION. + +The night was already far spent, and the Roman camp slept on, secure in +all its grim array; silent, but for the tread of the patrols, as they +paced the streets and exchanged the watchword, post with post, or but +for the clang of sword upon greave, or shield against cuirass, as some +sentry at gate, rampart or praetorium shifted his arms in weary waiting +for the day. + +Far up in the heavens the moon shone silvery and serene, while here and +there upon the plain below swaying points of light seemed to move, +flicker, go out, and rekindle again. No Roman watcher but knew well +that play of moonlight upon the heads of the reedlike spears with which +the ancient cavalry of the legion were equipped--weapons which, +together with their ox-hide bucklers, were being gradually superseded +by the heavier Greek accoutrements. Yes, and had not the word passed +from the guard at the praetorian gate, how a tribune and five turmae of +the fourth legion had ridden out on the service of the dictator? + +Earlier in the night, those who listened closely had heard a low hum +that seemed to pervade the air, rising and falling like the dull glow +in the west that told of the fluctuant watch-fires of the hostile camp. +Now the noises had died away, as in the distance, and the light that +had flashed up a few hours since hardly tinted the clouds. It is only +the old soldier who can read the signs of a decamping foe, who knows +how the fagots must be heaped at the moment of departure, so that the +deserted fires may burn until the morning, whose quick ear catches and +recognizes the indefinite noises of a host moving in secret. All these +things were, and old campaigners among the legionaries at the gate had +read them aright. Messenger after messenger hurried to the praetorium, +and returned with word that the dictator slept, "having taken all +needed measures," and how the master-of-the-horse paced up and down +before his tent, grinding his teeth, clenching his hands, and muttering +curses upon patrician cowardice and imbecility. + +Meanwhile, Lucius Sergius rode on through the night, with Marcus Decius +at his side, and the troop of horse trailing out across the plain +behind them. + +"It is silent, master," said the decurion, but his attitude, as he +leaned forward over his horse's neck, was rather of one trying to smell +than to listen. "The pulse-eaters sleep deeply." He watched Sergius +from under half-closed lids, waiting to be contradicted, that he might +measure his officer's warcraft. + +Sergius smiled. "Perhaps they are even wider awake than ourselves," he +said, drawing rein. Then, as the other nodded several times in +satisfied acquiescence, he brought his horse to his haunches a stride +beyond, and added: "It was the dictator who said we should find their +lair empty, and, though I do not question his judgment, it will be well +to send on a few who shall spy out the fact, and see whether there be +not Numidians lurking among the huts." + +So, slowly and cautiously, they pushed forward again, with riders in +advance, until a shout gave notice that the way was indeed clear, and +they rode through the open gate of the rampart and along the silent +street of the deserted camp. + +Nothing was about them save dismantled huts, for the most part mere +burrows with roofs of interlaced boughs that were now smoking amid the +ashes of the fires. Not a sign of disorder, nor even of the rapidity +with which so great an army had been moved; not a scale of armour left +behind--only the insufferable stench of a barbarian camp, of offal and +refuse piled or scattered about, of dead beasts and of dead men--the +sick and wounded who had yielded to sword or disease during the last +few days. + +It was with a sense of relief that the cavalcade emerged from the +shadows of the huts and began to mount the rising ground beyond. The +moon, too, had grown faint, and the gray mists of the morning were +lying along the lower levels. Sounds, mingled and far ahead, told of +the presence of a marching host, and Sergius led his troop on a more +oblique course to gain the flank of the foe and lessen the chances of +detection and ambuscade. + +It was not stirring work for a soldier--the days that followed; never +attacking, always guarding against discovery and surprise, viewing +slaughter and devastation that duty and weakness alike made him +powerless to prevent or punish, sending courier after courier to his +general to tell of the enemies' march or of stragglers and foragers to +be crushed in the jaws of the army that enveloped the invader's rear. +Thus the war passed through Apulia, over the Apennines, down into the +old Samnite lands, past Beneventum that closed its gates and mourned +over its devastated fields, on across the Volturnus, descending at last +into the Falernian plain, the glory of Campania, the Paradise of +Italian wealth and luxury. + +During all these days Sergius had grown thinner and browner. Little +furrows had been ploughed between the eyes that must pierce every ridge +and thicket for the glint of javelins and the wild faces of the +bridleless riders of the desert. From time to time news of devastators +cut to pieces brought a fierce joy to his heart; from time to time he +dreamt he saw the eagles of the Republic hovering upon the heights +above, ready to stoop and strike and save the allied lands from trials +greater than they could bear; but of Marcia, scarce a waking thought. +Surely the man he now was had never reclined in peaceful halls where +women plied the distaff and talked about love, and of how Rabuleius, +the perfume-maker of the Suburra, had just received a new essence from +Arabia! That old life was all a dream, perhaps the memory of a former +existence, as the sage of Croton had taught. There was nothing real in +the world, in these days, but fear and suffering and humiliation and +revenge. Even duty had become a mere habit that should minister to +greater influences. + +And now it was worst of all. Campania was a conflagration from which +rose supplications and shrieks and groans, mingled with curses against +the cowardly ally that had left her to her fate. Still the legions +held to the high ground, and still the black pest of Numidia swept +hither and thither on its errand of murder and rapine. Even to Sergius +the plans of the dictator began to seem but "coined lead," as Marcus +Decius roughly put it. Of what avail was it that the pass at Tarracina +was blocked, that he had garrisoned Casilinum in the enemies' rear and +Cales upon the Latin Way, and that the sea and the Volturnus and the +steep hills with their guarded passes seemed to complete the line of +circumvallation? Could such bonds hold one so wise as Hannibal from +the rich cities of the plain? Unless Rome would advance her standards, +were not Sinuessa and Cumae, Puteoli and Neapolis, Nuceria and Teanum, +and, above all, Capua, left to fight their own battle against barbarian +insolence and barbarian power? What hope to starve out an enemy +established in such a region and amid such affluence! + +Then, too, there was less work now for Sergius, even such as it was. +The enemy, wheresoever he marched, was well in view from a dozen points +held by the dictator, and at last word came to the tribune that he +should join the camp near Casilinum. There, at least, he would have +companionship in shame, instead of seeming to command men and being +unwilling to lead them to fight for lands which the gods themselves had +deemed worthy of their contention. + +They were near Cales when the orders were brought. Could it be the +dictator's intention to give battle and avenge what he had failed to +save? By midday they were mounted and threading the forest paths that +led to their comrades--paths whence, from time to time, some vista in +the woods disclosed the plain below, with here and there a column of +smoke that made Sergius grind his teeth and clench his hands in +impotent rage. Suddenly he drew rein, for a man, dressed in the +coarse, gray tunic of a slave, had half run, half stumbled across his +way. An instant more, and the fellow was struggling in the grasp of +Decius, who had sprung to the ground. + +"What now, forkbearer! what now, delight of the scourges!" cried the +decurion. "Will you delay the march of a tribune of the Republic?" + +"Pity me, master, pity me and let me go!" cried the man, still striving +vainly to escape. "Surely they are close behind me--" + +"Who are behind you?" asked Sergius, sternly. "Speak and lie not, food +for Acheron!" + +"They who are burning the farm." + +Sergius' eyes glittered, and he leaned forward to catch the words, as +he began to gather their import. + +"Speak quickly, and you shall be safe," he said, in more reassuring +tones. "Whose farm is it that is burning? Loose him, Marcus." + +Released from the hands that held him, the fugitive seemed to waver for +a moment between speech and flight. Perhaps exhaustion turned the +balance, for, still panting for breath, he threw himself on his knees +before Sergius' bridle and gasped:-- + +"My master's farm--a veteran of the first war--a centurion--the +Numidians." + +"Where is it? How many are there?" + +The man pointed down the slope up which he had scrambled. + +"I did not note their numbers, lord. Perhaps a hundred--perhaps more." + +As he spoke, the sky began to brighten as with fire, and Sergius, +wheeling his horse, urged him downward toward the plain. Decius was by +his side in an instant, and behind them came the cavalry at a speed +that threatened to hurl them headlong to the foot of the rocky +declivity. Joy and fury shone on the faces of the men: only Marcus +Decius seemed troubled and abstracted. + +"We shall be with them soon, my Marcus," cried Sergius, gayly, and +then, noting the furrowed face of his first decurion: "Surely, +Trasimenus has not cooled your heart. Take courage. There is no water +here to chill you." + +Decius flushed through the deep bronze of his skin. + +"It is true that there is no water here, and blows might warm my blood. +It was the command of the dictator that I thought of." + +They had reached the level plain now. A cluster of burning buildings +hardly a mile ahead marked their goal. + +"And it is you, Marcus, who have been railing at those same commands?" + +"I am an old soldier, my master. I growl, but I obey." + +For answer, Sergius urged on his horse with knee and thong. Now they +could distinguish dark shapes gliding hither and thither around the +fires, and now they burst in upon a scene as of the orgies of demons. + +Utterly unsuspicious of danger, the marauders had taken no precautions. +Their wiry, little horses had been turned loose about the gardens, +while the riders murdered and pillaged and ravished and destroyed. The +worst was over now. Little remained of the buildings, save clay walls +covered with plaster; dead bodies were scattered here and there; the +women and such of the slaves as had not been slaughtered, together with +the farm stock and other things of value, were gathered beyond the +reach of the fires; while, bound high upon a rude cross before his own +threshold, the master of the farm writhed amid flames that shot upward +to lick his hands and face. + +Then, in an instant, the scene was changed: the Roman horsemen burst +in, and, frenzied by the spectacle before them, slew madly and fast. +Hither and thither they swept, wherever the dusky figures sought to +fly, and the thin, reed-like lances rose and plunged and rose again, +shivering and dripping, from the bodies of their victims. But for +their well-trained steeds, who came and knelt at their masters' calls, +not one of the desert horsemen could have escaped, and, as it was, a +mere dozen broke out from the carnage and scurried away, with the +avengers in close and relentless pursuit. Marcus Decius paused a +moment before the cross and studied the torn frame and blackened skin +of the man who hung there. Then, with a swift movement of his lance, +he transfixed the quivering body, and, hardly catching the "Jove bless +thee, comrade," and the sigh with which life escaped, he dashed on +after the pursuing squadrons. + + + + +VI. + +DISOBEDIENCE. + +That the chase was doomed to be a vain one seemed apparent. Once mounted +and urging on their steeds with the shrill, barbaric cries of the desert, +Hannibal's light horsemen were safe from all ordinary pursuit. One after +another of the Romans drew up his panting animal, and scarce half of +their turmae pounded on. + +Suddenly they saw the flying Numidians throw their horses upon their +haunches. A moment of indecision followed, and then, while several +darted off obliquely, the remainder, seven or eight in all, swung around +and charged straight at the legionaries. At their head rode a giant, +black as ebony save where gouts of red had splashed him with the hue of +terror. His frizzly hair was caught up high and ornamented with a +cluster of ostrich feathers, while with his right hand he drew javelin +after javelin from the sheaf he carried in his left, and launched them +with unerring aim at his former pursuers. Three had flown on their +errands, two had brought down a soldier each, and the third quivered in +the throat of Sergius' horse. Then, as the animal reared and went over, +carrying his rider with him, the assailant burst through the line, and in +a moment had gained the open plain beyond. Once more he was safe, safe +but for one short, thick-set rider,--Marcus Decius, first decurion of the +first turma, hastening to overtake his troop. + +Escape from such a pursuer was child's play for the Numidian; but the +fury of fight was on him, and, gnashing his white teeth, from which the +thick, black lips seemed to writhe away, he bent low amid his horse's +mane and, with an inarticulate cry, urged him straight at the veteran. +His javelins had all been expended in breaking through the Roman line, +and a short, heavy dagger was his only weapon. Nothing daunted, he came +on, evaded like a flash the thrust of Decius' spear, and hurled himself +upon him. It was the small buckler of the Roman that saved his life; the +dagger passed through the ox-hide, slightly gashing his arm, and, before +the barbarian could withdraw it, the impact of the horses in full career +had sent both men and animals to the plain in a floundering heap. Again +the Numidian was quicker, and, gaining his feet, he sprang, weaponless as +he was, upon the decurion still struggling to untangle himself from his +fallen horse. The buckler, with the African's knife thrust through it, +had rolled away, and the possession of Decius' sword, which hung in its +sheath upon his right thigh, became the object of the struggle. Perhaps +the strength of the men was not very unequal; but the Roman, hardly free +from his mount, was undermost and wounded, so that the result seemed +hardly doubtful. The Numidian's charger had risen to its feet, and +stood, with out-stretched neck, whinnying softly, as if sharing in the +excitement of the contest. Then the trampling of hoofs sounded in the +ears of the straining combatants. Decius felt his adversary make a +convulsive effort as if to free himself, and then a gush of something +warm came into the Roman's face, and his foe sank down upon him, limp and +helpless. With a last effort of his spent strength, he pushed the +twitching body aside, and, staggering to his feet, saw Sergius standing +beside him, with a dripping sword in his hand, and the bridle of Titus +Icilius', the flag-bearer's, horse thrown over his left arm. + +Remounting, they rode slowly back to their troop, and then the cause of +the strange boldness of the fugitives was disclosed. Advancing across +the plain directly in the path of their flight came four hundred of the +allied cavalry, whom the dictator had sent out to reconnoitre, and, +caught thus between two lines, the Numidians had, for the most part, +chosen to take their chances against the weaker force. Not one of the +marauders was alive, but they had sold their lives dearly; for a dozen of +the Romans also were dead, and a score more showed wounds that marked +this last spasm of barbarian frenzy. + +While the men talked together, Sergius sought the praefect of the new +detachment, a Hostilian of the family of Mancinus, whom he recalled among +the young hot-heads that formed the party of the master-of-the-horse, and +declaimed against the policy of Fabius as cowardly and base. He found +him in the best possible humour, laughing and making coarse jests amid a +circle of decurions and optios--as rude a Roman as marched with the +standards, yet able, when occasion demanded, to play the man of fashion +who had spent a year at Athens. The latter mood fell upon him when he +descried Sergius. He came forward to meet him. + +"Health to you, my Lucius!" he cried, "Surely the gods have held you in +especial favour this day. I am told you have cut up a few squadrons of +this African offal." + +"With your timely aid," replied Sergius, bowing. + +"I but made the hares double to your coursing," said Hostilius, +carelessly; "and they tell me you have won both the spolia opima and a +civic crown. That is a great deal for one day--and under a peaceful +dictator." + +Sergius flushed. + +"I shall not claim them," he said. "Doubtless, Decius would have both +slain the fellow and saved himself had I not come up--" + +"No modesty! no modesty!" cried Hostilius, gayly. "I assure you it is +even less Greek than Roman in these days. Lo! now, I myself will claim +both for you at Rome, if only to show that I do not grudge you your share +of the carrion. Perhaps such honours will not prejudice you in a certain +house on the Palatine," he added, slyly. "But come! you and I shall join +our forces and raid together. We have sent two hundred to Acheron since +we left the camp, and birds have been singing on our left all the +morning." + +"Where is the dictator now?" asked Sergius. + +"In his tent, of course," replied the other, scornfully. "And no one +cares where that may be." + +"And you?" + +"Oh! he was persuaded at last to risk a scouting party, and, at the +request of the brave Minucius, he gave the command to me with strict +injunctions to use only my eyes. Well, I have used them so sharply that +my hands, too, have been full," and Hostilius laughed. "There are some +five hundred of the cross-food that have evaded me thus far. We shall +catch them now, though, and, together, it will be easy for us to prevail." + +Sergius was silent. To make a dash from the heights in defence of allies +dying in his sight, was one thing; to deliberately join this +insubordinate in turning a reconnaissance into a raid, was another and +much more serious matter. + +The praefect noted his hesitation, and a slight frown chased the smile +from his lips. + +"Or perhaps you prefer to obey the old woman's orders," he added, "and +keep your couch warm. Well, our men and horses are fed by this time, and +I am off. If you are a Roman, I greet you to ride with me; if you fear +robbers or the axe that smote Titus Manlius, why, I will bid you farewell +and ride alone." + +"Where do you set your course?" queried Sergius, with a vague hope of at +least seeming to combine inclination with duty. + +"Toward the enemy," replied the other, shortly. "Does not the direction +please you?" and he turned to his horse. + +Sergius' brow clouded. His blood was hot with the conflict just +finished. Youth, courage--all combined to turn him from obedience; but +obedience bade fair to conquer, when Marcia's laugh rang in his ears, and +he could hear her gravely complimenting his prudence and discoursing on +the rare value of docility in a husband. Besides, what did it all +matter? Had he not said that he sought death? and, surely, the way it +came soonest was the best. + +Placing his hand upon his horse's withers, he vaulted upon its back, +before the animal had time to kneel, and a moment later was beside +Hostilius. + +"By Hercules!" exclaimed the latter; "I am glad you are here. Even in +these days of strange things, I would have found it difficult to imagine +that a Sergian could be a coward." + +"And now," cried Sergius, "you will only have to imagine him a fool. So +be it, and let the cost of his life pay for his folly." + +"Jupiter avert the omen!" exclaimed Hostilius, shuddering, and then, +turning to his trumpeter, he bade him give the signal for the march. + +It was a desolate country--the fair plains of Campania through which they +rode. Here and there a cluster of blackened ruins, here and there things +that were once men, fruit trees cut down, vines uprooted, corn-fields +reaped with the sword; while far away upon the horizon smoky columns +curled up to show that the work of devastation still went on. + +"May Mavers curse him--curse him forever!" cried Hostilius, grinding his +teeth in rage at each new manifestation of the enemy's handiwork. "Could +the most disastrous battle be worse than this?" + +Sergius was silent. In a way his feelings went out to meet those of his +companion; but the dictator had trusted him, and he had disobeyed, and, +for all his disobedience, his soldier's instinct told him that the +dictator was right. + +Hostilius eyed him sharply and suspiciously, as if trying to divine his +thoughts. + +"If you regret--" he began. + +Suddenly a decurion of the allies dashed up beside them. + +"Look!" he cried, pointing toward the east. "There is carrion for the +wolves." + +Both leaders turned at the words. + +Far out across the plain was what seemed at first sight like a clump of +dark foliage, save that it moved and changed shape too much. + +"Numidians!" exclaimed the decurion, following his finger with his +speech, while the veins in Hostilius' forehead began to swell and grow +dark. + +"The signal! Let it be given," he cried to his officer, and, turning, he +dug his knees into his horse's sides and galloped toward the distant +quarry. A moment later the cavalry wheeled at the trumpet call, and, in +some disorder but full of eagerness, began the pursuit of their leader. + +As for Sergius, he, too, gave order and rein, though more deliberately, +and his troop followed the cavalry of the allies in somewhat better +array. By his side galloped Decius with an expression hard to analyze +upon his weather-beaten face. + +Sergius glanced at the old soldier from time to time with a look of +inquiry and concern. At last he ventured to question his grim mentor. + +"Is it well or ill, Marcus?" + +"Ill for you that command, well for me who obey," growled the other, and +Sergius flushed and was silent. + +"Shall we catch them?" he asked, a few moments later, for the clump of +Numidians, who had sat motionless upon their horses until the Romans +covered half the intervening distance, had now wheeled for flight. + +"If they be too strong for us, we shall catch them," replied Decius. "It +is as they will." + +And now it became apparent that the marauders were far inferior in +numbers to the assailants, and that they recognized the fact; for flight +and pursuit began in earnest. Horses were urged to higher speed. At one +moment the Numidians seemed to be holding their distance; at another, the +Romans gained slightly but unmistakably. All order of detachments and +turmae was soon lost; Romans and allies, officers and men, were mingled +together in a straggling mass, with naught but the eagerness of the +riders and the speed of their animals to marshal them. Only Decius +continued to pound along, with his horse's nose at his tribune's elbow. +The thunder of many hundred hoofs rolled across the plain. + +"By Hercules! we shall do it!" cried Sergius, in whom ardour of the chase +had put to flight all sentiments of regret or doubt. "Do you not see we +are gaining?" + +"They ride silently yet," said Decius. "It is but knee-speed with them. +Wait till they cry out to their horses, and we shall see." + +Suddenly, as if to supplement the words, a single shrill cry, half +whistle, half scream, rose up ahead. Had they been closer, they might +have noted the pricking ears of the desert steeds; but this much they +saw:--one horse and rider darting out of the press, like arrow from bow, +and scurrying away over the plain as if their former gait had been but a +hand-gallop. + +An instant of misgiving came to some few of the Romans, who were not +blind to everything but the excitement of the moment, but they, like the +rest, only plied knee and thong the harder, and the episode of the single +rider was forgotten by all save Marcus Decius and Sergius. + +"It is a trap, master," said the former, with an inquiring glance at his +leader. + +Sergius bowed his head, and his face was troubled, as he replied:-- + +"I know it, my Marcus, but we cannot turn back now. I have accepted the +feast: therefore I must recline until my host gives the signal to rise. +I pray you pardon me." + +By a quick movement Decius urged his horse a stride ahead of the +tribune's, that he might the better hide his emotion; at the same time +growling:-- + +"I pardon you?--and for the chance of a blow at the scum? I thank you +many times." + +And now, from the plain ahead rose a low range of rolling hills over +which a light cloud seemed to hover. Was it the ascent that wearied the +horses of the Numidians? Surely the space between pursuers and pursued +was lessening rapidly, and Hostilius leaned far forward, shaking his +spear and calling upon his men for a renewed effort. + +"Now! now!" he cried. "See! they are spent! Up with them ere they top +the hill!" + +But the Numidians gained the sought-for ridge, if only by a few +spear-lengths' lead, and the cloud, now close ahead, hung so dense that +there were those who thought it the smoke of another farm. Decius' eyes +seemed set in a dazed stare. There was too much red in that cloud, and +yet it was not the red of fire, and it was too light and too thin for +smoke. He knew it; he had known it all along, but what did it matter? +The last Numidian had disappeared down the opposite slope--no! surely +they had turned again, and in a longer line--a thicker one; and the light +javelins and naked black bodies had become long, stout spears and +glittering corselets, while at their head rode a slender man with forked +beard, and his black eyes seemed to burn in his head like coals. So, +with one barbaric roar, the whole array poured down over the allied +cavalry, and these were like the dust of the trampled field. + + + + +VII. + +PUNISHMENT. + +Sergius hardly knew what was happening. He was conscious that the +stride of his horse had been checked by a dense mass of plunging +animals in front--a mass that grew more dense and more tangled with +every instant. Those behind were still endeavouring to press forward, +and those in front were hurled back upon them or were striving +frantically to break through the rearmost squadrons and escape; while, +shrill above the clash of arms and the shouts and screams, rose a name +that Sergius found himself listening to with a sort of curious interest. + +"Maharbal! Maharbal!" came the cry, nearer and nearer. + +At the first moment of the check, Marcus Decius had pushed the sturdy +horse that he rode well to the fore. He saw Hostilius riding back, +waving one arm and crying out incoherent words: his spear was gone, and +the head of a Spaniard's lance had been thrust through his shoulder and +broken off, so that a third of the shaft hung from the wound. + +Then what had happened and the hopelessness of it all became apparent. +Like the veriest fools they had ridden into the snare, and Maharbal, +the Carthaginian, with at least two thousand Spanish and African +horsemen, was thundering on their front and flanks: their front--but in +a moment, their rear; for now those who had not been ridden down at the +first onset or become inextricably entangled with their fellows broke +away over the plain, carrying their officers with them in a mad frenzy +of flight; while other Numidians--fresh riders on fresh steeds--urged +the pursuit and smote down the hindermost. + +Decius found himself riding in the middle of the press. His face was +as imperturbable as ever, though he glanced over his shoulder from time +to time as if to note how much nearer death had come. Sergius galloped +close behind him, careless and abstracted, his rein lying loose on his +charger's steaming neck. Then, of a sudden, a resolve seemed to come +to him. Straightening himself, he urged the weary horse forward +through the fugitives till he drew up even with Hostilius, who, still +frantic with panic, was now swaying in his saddle from the pain and +loss of blood. + +Sergius leaned over and laid his hand upon the other's arm, and +Hostilius started as if he had touched a serpent. Then he became +calmer, and a troubled look was in the eyes that sought the tribune's +face. + +"Yes, I know," he said at last, speaking hurriedly and in odd, strained +accents. "I led you into it, and now I am flying." + +"Let us turn back," said Sergius, mildly. "I do not reproach you, but +let us turn back. Surely it is better than the rods and axe." + +Hostilius shuddered, and, at that moment, Decius, who had overtaken +them, broke in with:-- + +"By Hercules! there is no fear of those. They cut us down in flight. +The choice is, shall we have it in the face or between the shoulders." + +"By the gods of Rome, then!" shouted the praefect, suddenly reining up, +while Sergius and Decius swung their horses in short circles. + +There was no trumpet to give the signal, and the little cavalry banner +had gone down long ago; but such was the force of Roman training that +nearly all of Sergius' men and half of the allies turned in mid-panic +with their leaders. To make head, much less to form was impossible, +for the foremost of the enemy were well mingled with the rearmost +fugitives. As Decius had said, it was only a choice of deaths: the one +swift and honourable, the other more lingering, but none the less +inevitable. + +Almost in a moment it was over. Between two and three hundred of the +united detachments had fallen already, and the hundred or so that now +sought to face about, went down in a crushed and bleeding mass under +the thousands of hoofs that overwhelmed them. Such was the weight and +impetus of the pursuing force that there was no time even to strike, +and most of the victims fell unwounded by spear or javelin. Sergius +was vaguely conscious that he had seen the praefect cloven through the +head by the short, swordlike Numidian knife, his own horse seemed to +collapse under him, and that was the end. + +Then he knew that it was dark and cold and that there was a howling in +the air, as of beasts of prey, and the shadow of a man fell across him, +for the moon was in the heavens, and the man was cursing by all the +gods of the Capitol. + +Gradually consciousness returned, and he recalled, incident by +incident, the happenings of the past day. He had been lying still, +thus far, without further wish than to look up at the stars and think +and listen to what he now knew was the distant howling of wolves and +the nearer curses of Marcus Decius. At last he stirred slightly, and +the decurion turned and looked down. + +"Do you live, master?" + +"Yes, truly," replied Sergius; "unless you chance to be a shade." + +Then he struggled to his feet, and the two gazed silently at each other +and around them. All about, in the moonlight, lay the bodies of horses +and men, the latter glittering in their white tunics, save here and +there an officer whose helmet and breastplate had seemed to mark out +his corpse for stripping and nameless desecrations. Sergius' +head-piece was gone, but he glanced at his own corselet and then at +Decius. + +"We were buried together under a heap of dead," said the latter, in +answer to the unasked query. "They made haste in their spoiling; and, +when they had gone, I drew myself free and found you: the wolves are +feasting well to-night; can you walk?" + +Sergius moved stiffly a few steps. He felt bruised from head to foot, +and one arm hung useless from a dislocated shoulder, but he found no +wound. Decius had not escaped so lightly. Besides the gash he had +received earlier in the day, he had been cut again across the forehead, +but his prodigious strength seemed to have inexhaustible resources to +draw upon. + +"Come," he said. "We must go southward as quickly as possible. +Sergius still walked slowly about, glancing at one corpse after +another, until the decurion, at last divining his thought, broke in +roughly:-- + +"Come! The wolves must provide him sepulchre as they will do for +better men. What would he have? The she-wolf suckled the twins. Let +Hostilius pay the debt by feeding the she-wolf's cubs. By Hercules! +other sepulchre for him means need of one for ourselves." + +So speaking, he at last drew Sergius away, and they began their weary +tramp across the field. + +"If I could have seen but one pulse-eater among the slain," said the +tribune, after they had gone some distance in silence. + +"I know of one that should be dead," remarked Decius, grimly, "if a +spear through his midriff be enough for him. Truly the ancient shafts +are useless in close fight, save for a single thrust. I, for one, +welcome the Greek equipment--and the sooner the better." + +Suddenly Sergius stopped and laid his hand upon his comrade's arm. + +"Look!" he said. + +A long, low rampart seemed to rise up from the plain two hundred yards +ahead. + +"Their camp," said the decurion, after a short pause, "and deserted. +Let us go forward cautiously; perhaps we shall find food." + +Step by step they crept up, walking faster and more erect as they drew +nearer and as the evidence that life was not there became more apparent. + +"They have left it only to-night," said Decius, clambering up the mound +of earth and sniffing the air. "Had it been a day old, we should have +smelt it long ago, though the wind blows from us." + +Then, as they descended and traversed the silent lanes, a puzzled +expression came to his face, and he halted from time to time. + +Sergius eyed him inquiringly. + +"Do you not smell fresh blood?" said the veteran, at last. "I remember +when we marched with Lucius Aemilius, after the Gauls had beaten the +praetor's army at Clusium. There were ten thousand men just slain, and +the air was salt like the sea--by Jupiter! What is this?" + +Resuming their advance, they had come upon a space of open ground near +the centre of the camp, doubtless the spot reserved for a market; but +what meat was it that cumbered the shambles, without buyer or seller? +Piled in ghastly heaps, or covering the ground two and three deep, lay +a fresh-reaped harvest of corpses, stripped, distorted, gleaming in the +moonlight. Could it be that the camp had been taken? But these were +no African dead, nor yet was this a Roman camp. There was a set +deliberation, too, about the slaughter, that told no tale of battle. + +Suddenly Decius cried out and, stooping down, raised the hands of one +of the victims--hands upon which the shackles still hung. + +"Slaves," murmured Sergius; "but why--" + +"Say, rather, prisoners," said the centurion, grimly. + +Sergius struck his thigh. It was all clear to him now. + +"May the plague fall upon him! may he go to a thousand crosses! Do you +not see? He is _escaping_. He has made for the passes and slain his +prisoners, that they may not hamper his march. Who knows but that by +now he is on the road to Rome? Gods! This was Hostilius' duty and +mine, and we wasted our time and our men on a few score of miserable +Numidians. Come, my Marcus, come: there are no such things as wounds +or weariness or caution. We must reach the dictator at once, and may +the gods grant that it be not too late!" + +Marcus Decius had been gazing gloomily at the young man, as the words +burst from his lips. + +"Where shall we go, and how?" he said, with a despairing gesture. + +"On our feet," cried Sergius. "Did I not say that weariness and wounds +were not? It is for the life of the Republic: I to the camp near +Casilinum; you to Tarracina. They will march by the Appian or by the +Latin Way, if they strike for Rome. If not, the plan may not be fatal." + +Decius yielded to the decision of his companion, and, with hasty +fingers, they unlaced each other's corselets and hurried out of the +camp, each to run his race with what strength remained. The last clasp +of hands had been given and received, when, far away on the hills east +and northeast, the quick eye of Sergius caught the gleam of a rapidly +moving torch: then another and another and another seemed to flame out +in the night, like stars when the moon has failed, until the whole +range of heights blazed with fires that flashed and danced and crossed +and recrossed each other in mad confusion, as if all the thronging +bacchanals of Greece had assembled for one frenzied orgy. + +Dazed and confounded by the spectacle, as grand as it was weird and +unexplainable, they stood spell-bound, powerless each to take the first +stride. Decius, the older man, the veteran, turned to his companion, +yielding that unconscious homage to birth and rank and education, that +comes in the presence of unknown perils. No experience of war could +help him here, and his mind leaped at once to the supernatural for an +explanation. As for the tribune, such thoughts, at least, had not +occurred to him. Greek scepticism had already gained too strong a hold +upon young Romans of rank, to let them regard the theology of the State +other than as a machinery devised by wise men to control an ignorant +rabble. Besides, his mind had taken another direction from the +discovery of the slaughter of the prisoners, and, humanlike, it ran on +in its channel, right or wrong. + +Decius was trembling violently. + +"Truly, master, the gods of Carthage are loose to-night," said he. + +There was even a little of contempt in the glance with which Sergius +noted the abject terror of the sturdy veteran. Utterly at a loss to +explain the apparitions, he never doubted for a moment but that they +were the product of some human wile. + +"Come," he said shortly. "The gods of Carthage have favoured us in +lighting the way. First of all, we shall go together and learn the +truth." Without waiting for a reply, he set off, at an easy, loping +gait, in the direction of the strange fires. Decius followed, as he +would have followed through the portals of Avernus. + +The distance to the heights was not great,--four or five miles at the +utmost,--but half an hour had passed, and still the spectacle, wilder +and more brilliant than ever, remained unexplained. For a stretch of +miles, the hills above, beyond, and below were all ablaze with rushing +flames that seemed guided by no sentient agency; then, suddenly, a +single torch glanced out from a small grove of trees a short distance +ahead and darted diagonally across their path. Decius stopped for an +instant, with trembling knees; but Sergius bounded forward to intercept +the torch-bearer, and the veteran followed from sheer shame. + +Up, down to the ground, up again, and then around in frantic waving +circles swept the flame: a mad bellowing rolled through the night, +until the tribune himself almost checked his stride in awe-struck +wonder. The next instant the torch, if torch it was, seemed to +flounder to the earth, from which it rose again and came driving +directly toward him, explained at last,--an ox with a great bundle of +blazing fagots fastened between its horns, blinded, frantic with pain +and terror. + +Sergius sprang aside, as the beast dashed by; but Decius, roused once +more to the possibility of independent thought and action, stepped +toward it and, as it passed, plunged his sword between its heaving ribs. + +"What now, my master?" he said, flushing with shame at his fears of the +last hour--perhaps the bravest hour of his life. "Does the lying +Carthaginian seek to terrify Quintus Fabius, the dictator, as he +terrified Marcus Decius, the decurion?" + +"Yes, truly," replied Sergius, gloomily; "and he will succeed even +better. No general, and, least of all, ours, would lead out his army +in the night against such a spectacle. Come, it is necessary that we +should reach the camp," and, turning once again, they fell to running +in a more southern direction, where a dim glow in the sky seemed to +tell of the watchfires of an army. + +At first no sound broke the stillness of the night, save the laboured +breathing of the weary runners and the strokes of their leathern +cothurni upon the hard ground; but soon other noises came to mingle +with these and, at last, to drown them: the lowing of thousands of +cattle, now scattered far and wide over the plain and hillsides, and +then the distant clash of arms and the cries of combatants. + +Day began to dawn, just as the fugitives came in sight of the Roman +camp with the army drawn up behind its ramparts, waiting for they knew +not what. Here and there upon the heights they could see small bodies +of legionaries who defended themselves against light troops of the +enemy, until overwhelmed by the Spanish infantry that scaled the hills +and cut them to pieces; while to every prayer that the dictator should +march out to their support, he returned one grim answer. + +"They deserted their posts in the passes. Rome needs not such +soldiers." + +So, company by company, the guards of the defiles, terrified or lured +away to the ridges by the ruse of the cattle and the blazing fagots, +fell ingloriously before their comrades' eyes, as being men not worth +the effort to succour. The rear-guard of the invaders had already made +its way through the pass, while the Carthaginian van was well on into +the valley of the Volturnus. Now, too, the African light troops +disappeared, and, at last, the white tunics of the Spaniards, gay with +their purple borders, glittered for a moment on the hilltops, and then, +their work of death completed, sank away behind the ridges to fall back +and join their comrades in a march of new destruction through a new +country. + + + + +VIII. + +DISGRACE. + +While these things were happening, for the most part in the sight of +all, Sergius had been able to gain a moment's speech with the dictator. +Forcing his way through the crowd of tribunes and officers who thronged +the praetorium, he had found Fabius seated before his tent, and had +told his story in the fewest words possible. + +Naked but for his torn tunic and his cothurni, covered from head to +foot with blood and mire, his left arm hanging useless, and his face +like the face of a dead man, neither his miserable plight nor his story +brought softness to the stern lips and brow of the general. + +"You have come to tell me this?" he said, when the other had finished +speaking. "Do I not know it _now_?" and he pointed to the heights. +Then he turned away and spoke with some one at his side, while Sergius +stood, with downcast eyes, swaying and scarcely able to keep his feet. + +Among those around him his fate seemed hardly a matter of conjecture, +but a thrill went through the company when Minucius, who had been +vainly urging the dictator to support the guards of the passes, now +turned away in disgust, and, noting the disgraced officer, as if for +the first time, cried out in a loud voice:-- + +"What, my friend! have not the lictors attended to you, yet, for +venturing to play the man?" + +Sergius felt the added danger to which the master-of-the-horse had +exposed him by using his insubordination to point such a moral to his +commander; but the face of the dictator gave no sign that he had even +heard the taunting challenge. Calmly he gave his orders for cautious +scouting, for breaking camp, and for the army to resume its patient +march of observation, along the flank of the retiring foe. Then, when +one after another had retired to fulfil his commands, he turned again +to the waiting tribune. + +"I have been considering your fault," he said slowly, "and I had marked +you out as a much needed victim for the rods and axe. Go to my +master-of-the-horse and thank him for your life. His taunt was +doubtless meant to destroy you, in order that he might play the +demagogue over your fate. I accept it as a challenge to my +self-control. It is more necessary that I should show myself wise and +forbearing than that one fool should perish for his folly. Go back to +Rome, and tell them that I have many soldiers who can fight, and that I +want only those who can obey." + +Utterly exhausted, Sergius struggled vainly to withstand this last, +crushing blow. His composure was unequal to the task, and, sinking +upon his knees, as the dictator turned toward the tent, he could only +stretch out one hand and murmur:-- + +"The axe, my master; I pray you, the axe." + +Fabius paused a moment and eyed him grimly. Then his rugged, weary +face softened slightly. + +"I trusted you," he said. "Could you not trust me for a little while? +But go to Rome, as I bade you--only there shall others go with you, and +you shall bear for your message, instead of that one, this: that there +is no room for wounded men in my camp." + +"But I shall be well in two days--in one--I am well now if you say it." + +Fabius shook his head slowly. + +"Aesculapius has not been unhonoured by me," he said, "and he has told +me that you will be but a burden for many days. For this reason go to +Rome, and for two others that you shall not tell of: one, for +punishment because you could not obey, and one, because the time will +come soon when Rome shall need even the men who can only fight." + +Sergius saw the hopelessness of struggling against his softened fate, +bitter though it was. Open disgrace, indeed, had been turned aside; +but, on the other hand, he was doomed to inaction during times when all +Rome longed only to strike, and he could not but feel that he had +fallen far in the estimation of his general. + + + + +IX. + +HOME. + +The Appian Way was still safe, even from the chance of Numidian foray, +and it was along its lava-paved level that the long convoy of sick and +wounded writhed slowly northward that afternoon. + +Half reclining in the rude chariot, each jolt of which brought agony to +his injured shoulder, Sergius watched, with far deeper pain than that +of body, the last troop of allied horse winding up the pass toward +Allifae: the rear-guard of Rome's line of march. Then he fell to +brooding upon his fate, while the night followed the day and the day +the night, and still the dreary, groaning caravan dragged on, resting +only during the heated hours. + +On, over the Liris at Minturnae, upward, over the mountains behind +Tarracina and descending again into the Pontine plain; through the +shady groves of Arician ilex that crown the Alban Hills, down to +Bovillae, and then away across the Campagna to Rome--a marvel of deep +cuttings through the hills,--a marvel of giant superstructures over +valleys,--the Appian, the Queen of Ways. + +There were long, green ridges now, swelling from the plain and breaking +away into little rocky cliffs tufted with wild fig trees: sluggish +streams wound down from the east where, far away, loomed the +snow-tipped summits of Apennine, while toward the west the sky +reflected a brighter light from the sea that glittered beneath it. + +At last the eyes of the vanguard of weary wayfarers could descry, +through the morning mists, the crowned cluster of hills that was to be +a crown to all the world. Nearer they came and yet nearer, through the +vineyards and cornfields of the Campagna--the southern Campagna teeming +with its herds of mouse-coloured cattle, whose great, stupid eyes were +only less stupidly beautiful than those of the rustics that watched +over their grazings. + +And now wounds and sickness were, for the moment, forgotten, as man +pointed out to man this and that landmark of home: temples on this hill +and on that; Diana on the Aventine, the hill of the people; Jupiter +Stator on the Palatine; the grim mass of the citadel above the rock of +Tarpeia; the great quadriga that surmounted the greatest fane of +all--the house of Capitoline Jove. To the right of these were the +clustered oaks of the Caelian Mount, while, farthest away, but highest +of all, the white banner fluttering from the heights of Janiculum told +them that the city was still safe, still unassailed. They were passing +where the road was bordered by its houses of the dead; tombs of the +great families, above which the funereal cypresses bent their heads and +shed peace and shade alike over the dead and the living. The hum of +the city came to their ears, and, as the convoy drew nearer to the +Capenian Gate, the throng, pouring out to meet them, grew thicker and +more dense, blocking the way until the cavalry of the escort cleared it +with their spear-butts. Then the press divided, running along on both +sides of the carriages, in two fast-filling streams whose murmurs +swelled into a very torrent's roar of questions and prayers for news of +the general and the army. + +"Was Hannibal beaten? Had he been slain, or was he waiting in chains +to grace the Fabian triumph? Was it true that he measured twice the +height of common men, and that a single eye blazed cyclops-like in the +middle of his forehead? How many elephants would be seen in the +triumph?" + +Such and a hundred queries, equally wild, assailed the escort and the +occupants of the wagons; for this was the rabble: poor citizens, +freedmen, slaves, for whom no story of Hannibal and Carthage was too +improbable. Nevertheless Sergius imagined he could discern a spirit of +irony underlying much that he heard. + +When they had reached the low eminence that, crowned by the Temple of +Mars, faced the city gate, he bade the attendants help him descend from +the army carriage, that he might wait the coming of his slaves with a +litter. A messenger was soon found, and hurried off, charged with +necessary directions. + +The crowd had rolled on through the gate, together with the convoy, and +the sick man was left alone save for the attendants of the temple in +whose care he had placed himself. Day by day, as he had jolted along +his journey, he had felt the fever coming on--fever born of his injury +and the terrible strain to which he had been subjected: now it was only +necessary to reach his home and rest. Last of his race but for two +older sisters who had married several years since, the spacious mansion +of the family of Fidenas was his alone, with its slaves and its +ancestral masks and its cool courts and its outlook over the seething +Forum up to the opposite heights of the Capitol. There he would find +care and comfort for the body if not for the soul. + +And now the patter of running feet sounded from the pavement below. +They were come, at last, with the litter, and Sergius, entering it, was +borne swiftly through the gate, on, between the tall houses that backed +up against the hills, turning soon to the left into the New Way; on, +past the altar of Hercules in the cattle market, past the Temple of +Vesta, along the Comitia, and into the Sacred Way by the front of the +Curia. Thence they swung westward to the Roman Gate, the gate in the +ancient Wall of the City of Romulus that fenced the Palatine alone,--a +stately entrance, now, to the residence portion of the city most +favoured by the great families. Near by stood the house that marked +the ending of the journey, bustling with its slaves and bright with a +hundred lamps; while the physician, an old freedman of the tribune's +father, stood upon the threshold to greet and care for his late +master's son. + +Gravely shaking his head at the discouraging aspect of the invalid and +muttering to himself in Greek, for he was born in Rhodes, he led the +way back to the great hall between the peristyle and the garden. + +"Here, master," he said, "I have caused your couch to be laid, at the +moment I learned of your arrival and condition. You observe, the air +and light will be better than in your apartment, and the space better +calculated for those whose duty it shall be to minister to you, until +the divine Aesculapius and Apollo's self unite to grant success to my +efforts." + +"It is well, Agathocles," said Sergius, wearily, "and I thank you." + +His voice seemed to die away with the last words, and a sort of stupor +fell over him. Agathocles watched him closely, as he lay upon the +couch, noted the heavy breathing, and drew his brows together with a +deep frown. Behind him a group of the household slaves whispered +together and cast frightened glances, now at their master, now at the +disciple of the healing art; for Sergius had been brought up among +them, and the terms of their service were neither heavy nor harsh. +Then the surgeon set to work examining the shoulder, nodding his head +to observe that the bone had been replaced in its socket, but waxing +troubled again over the inflammation and swelling that told the story +of torn tendons and blood-vessels too long neglected, and of the +hardships of the journey. Slaves were sent scurrying, in this +direction and that, to compound lotions and spread poultices, while +Agathocles himself proceeded to the ostentatious mixing of some cooling +draught calculated to ward off, if possible, the fever that was already +claiming its sway. + + + + +X. + +CONVALESCENCE. + +The many weeks of hovering between life and death that followed these +days were a dense blank to Sergius. First, there was his injury, more +serious than he had imagined, and the fever that had followed it, +complicated again by the malaria of the marshes through which he had +journeyed in so vulnerable a plight. Then came other weeks of such +lassitude that he had neither power nor desire to learn of the world to +which he felt himself slowly returning, as did Aeneas from the realms +of Pluto. There were times when he had been vaguely conscious of +whisperings around his couch upon subjects that should have interested +him and did not. Was it his fault? or had everything become +commonplace and of no account? + +At last there came a time of convalescence. His haggard face +frightened him when he looked at it in the bronze mirror; but the air +of the winter was fresh and keen, bringing health and life to the mind, +if not entirely to the body. So, lying one day in the entrance hall +and gazing out over the Forum below, he turned to Agathocles, who sat +close by. + +"And now you shall tell me," he began, "of the things that have +happened while I have lain here, helpless as a bag of corn in the +granary, and of even less importance." + +"You mistake, my master," replied the physician, quickly. "Surely you +must know that your condition has been a matter of deep anxiety to +many, both within and without your walls." + +"Within, perhaps, yes," said Sergius, slowly. "I treat them well, and +such of them as do not get freedom by my will would doubtless find +harder masters in Sabinus and Camerinus. My sisters' husbands are +patricians of the old school. As for without,--am I not a man useless +in times of action?--well-nigh disgraced?--" + +Agathocles hastened to interrupt:-- + +"Ah! my master, you do not know. Could you but see the crowd of +clients who have gathered at your door each morning, waiting for it to +creak upon the pivots, and, later in the day, such of your friends as +were not away with the army--ay," he continued, with a sharp glance at +the invalid, "and a pretty female slave who has come at each nightfall +and has questioned the doorkeeper." + +The strong desire to hear of two things had come into Sergius' mind +while the physician was speaking. He must learn about this female +slave who had inquired so assiduously, and he must hear of the army, +the war, the Republic; for these last three were really but one. After +something of an effort, and not without a certain sentiment of +self-approval, he said:-- + +"Let me hear of friends later, my Agathocles. Tell me now of the war." + +There was a troubled expression in the physician's eyes, but he +answered volubly:-- + +"It progresses famously, in Spain, my master. Oh!--ay--famously. +Their fleet has been swept from the seas, and Scipio slays and drives +them as he wills. Doubtless by now they are all back in Africa--" + +"Not of Spain," interrupted Sergius, as the narrator caught his breath. +"Tell me of Italy, of Hannibal and Fabius. Have the standards opposed +each other?" + +"They say Hannibal is in winter quarters at Geronium, and the consuls +watch him," began Agathocles, in more subdued tones. + +"Tell me of Fabius. Tell me of what has happened--all, do you hear?" +cried Sergius, raising himself impatiently on one elbow. "If your +story seems to lack coherence and truth, I swear to you that I will go +down into the Forum at once and learn what I wish." + +Thus adjured, the physician answered, but with evident reluctance:-- + +"Truly, my master, all things have not been as we might wish, and yet +they could easily have run worse. When your dictator let the invaders +out of Campania, there was much complaint among the people that he was +protracting the war for his own advantage; but when he came to Rome for +the sacrifices and left Minucius in command, with orders not to engage, +and when the master-of-the-horse, as some say, evading the orders, +fought and gained an advantage, then, you may believe me, the city was +in a turmoil; nor were there wanting friends of Minucius and emissaries +from his camp to sound his praises as a general and decry the dictator +and his policy, not to say his courage and his honesty." + +"I warrant," said Sergius, gloomily, "that every pot-house politician +from the Etruscan Street was declaiming on how much better _he_ could +command than could Quintus Fabius." + +"Until at last," went on Agathocles, "Marcus Metilius--" + +"The tribune?--a corrupt knave!" broke in Sergius. + +"Surely; yes. Well, this Marcus Metilius made a speech--" + +"Full of rank demagoguery, I warrant." + +"Surely, and saying that it was intolerable for Minucius, who was the +only man who could fight, to be put under guard lest he beat the enemy; +intolerable that the territory of the allies should have been given up +to ravage, while the dictator protected his own farm with the legions +of the Republic; and, finally, proposing, as a most moderate measure, +that Minucius, the victor, should be given equal command over the army +with Fabius the laggard." + +"Unprecedented impudence!" murmured Sergius, "and what said the +dictator?" + +"He did not trouble to go near the Comitia, and even in the Senate they +did not like to hear his praises of Hannibal and his troops, or listen +favourably when he spoke doubtfully concerning the magnitude of +Minucius' victory and claimed that, even were it all true, the +master-of-the-horse should be called to account for his +insubordination. So, after he had lauded prudence and supported his +own policy, and after Marcus Atilius Regulus was elected consul, the +dictator departed for the army, in the night, and left them to do as +they pleased." + +"They passed the law?" asked Sergius, bitterly. + +"It hung in doubt for some time," went on Agathocles; "for, though many +favoured, few were disposed to advance such a measure, until Caius +Terentius Varro, who was praetor last year--" + +"The butcher's son," commented Sergius. "You know, my Agathocles, how +demagogues and tyrants crushed out the life of your Hellas. We have +yet to see the same ruin fall upon Rome, and from the same cause: +first, an ungovernable rabble, stirred up by the ignorant and vicious, +and then a king, and then a foreign conqueror. Flaminius lost one +army, Minucius will doubtless lose another, while Metilius and Varro +are well able to lose whatever may remain. Pah! Why did you not let +me finish my journey to Acheron? This is no city for men whose fathers +were able to teach them about war and honour. He whose tongue is most +ready to lie about the noble and the rich is counted on to wield the +sword best against an enemy. Well,--speak on; and what happened next?" + +"As you say," continued the physician, "the measure was passed; but +when Minucius desired that he and the dictator should command on +alternate days, Fabius would only consent to a division of the army." + +"Gods!" exclaimed Sergius. "Two legions apiece! That must have been +rare sport for Hannibal." + +"Truly, yes; but it resulted well, for, to shorten the tale, the +Carthaginian trapped Minucius through his rashness, and was about to +cut him to pieces, when the dictator, who had foreseen all this, came +up and saved what was left; whereupon the master-of-the-horse marched +to the general's camp, and, saluting him as 'father' and 'saviour,' +surrendered his equal command, after having directed his soldiers, +also, to greet the others as patrons--" + +"That, at least, was well done," said Sergius, nodding; "worthy of a +man better born than Minucius. I do him honour for learning from +experience. Metilius or Varro could not have done it." + +"And, now," continued Agathocles, "both the dictator and the +master-of-the-horse have given up their commands, the time of their +appointments expiring, and the army is in winter quarters under the +consuls." + +"Servilius and Atilius?" + +"Truly." + +"And the elections?" + +"Are falling due." + +"Who sue for the consulship?" + +Agathocles hesitated and placed his fingers upon the patient's pulse. + +"I have told you enough for the day--" + +"Who are candidates?" reiterated Sergius, leaning forward impatiently. + +"They say that Varro--" began Agathocles. + +But the tribune had sprung to his feet. Then, as he swayed a moment +from weakness, leaning back against the couch, he raised both hands and +cried out:-- + +"Have they gone mad? The butcher's son!--the bearer of his father's +wares, to command against Hannibal! Do you think the Carthaginian a +bullock to stand still and stupid, while this soldier of the shambles +swings the axe? Gods! They will learn their error--only _we_ must pay +the price, together with the rabble that owe it. Gods! Was not the +lesson of Flaminius enough for these drinkers of vinegar-water? This +will be great news for them on the Megalia." + +Then, seeming to gain strength from his excitement, he strode up and +down the atrium, while the physician watched him anxiously but without +venturing to interfere. + +It was the doorkeeper's attendant that broke in upon the scene, pausing +a moment in doubt, as his eyes followed his master's rapid strides. +Finally, approaching Agathocles, he plucked him by the sleeve and +whispered:-- + +"The woman desires to know of the health of my lord." + +Before the physician could answer, Sergius had caught the words, and, +wheeling about, faced the boy. + +"What woman and where?" he asked. + +"The gray stole; the slave woman who inquires for you. She waits her +answer at the door," said the boy, his tongue loosened by the question. + +"Let her come to me," commanded Sergius, and he threw himself down upon +the deeply cushioned seat of a marble chair. Agathocles stood at his +elbow, with an expression of anxiety on his face, and, in a moment +more, the girl entered. + +Muffled almost to the eyes, she glided forward, and the voice that +addressed him was soft and musical. + +"May the gods favour you, my lord! even as they have favoured me in +permitting a sight of your improved health." + +"You have been here often," began Sergius, "and I wished to see you and +bid you bear my thanks to her who sent you." + +Slowly the stole dropped from the eyes--very pretty eyes, that, joined +with an equally pretty mouth, took on an expression of hurt +astonishment. + +"That _sent_ me?" she murmured, half sadly. "Ah, well; doubtless it is +a matter of insolence for a poor slave girl to wish and ask concerning +the health of the noble Sergius." + +The tribune watched her closely and with mingled feelings. He had +settled in his mind, from the moment of Agathocles' mention of the +fact, that the slave woman who called must be sent by Marcia, and it +was not without a pang of very poignant regret that he relinquished the +idea. That he could not place this girl--one of a class so far beneath +the notice of a Roman of rank--was not strange, and yet the face seemed +vaguely familiar to him, and--it was certainly little short of +beautiful. A man flouted, or, still worse, ignored by a mistress at +whose shrine he has worshipped, might well be pardoned a feeling of +satisfaction that his well-being was a matter of interest to at least +one pretty woman. + +Meanwhile the girl stood before him, her arms hanging by her sides, her +eyes modestly cast down, and her whole attitude indicative of detected +audacity and submissive despair. Agathocles had transferred his +attention from his patient to the visitor, and his scrutiny seemed to +trouble her. + +"So it was yourself alone who desired to learn of my welfare," said +Sergius, with a faint smile. "Believe me, my girl, no Roman is too +noble to value the interest of beauty like yours." + +There was just the suspicion of a laugh in the downcast eyes, but it +sped away as swiftly as it came, and she made haste to answer:-- + +"Truly, my lord does not measure his own worth. There are many, as +much above me in beauty as they are in rank; many who cannot venture to +show the concern they doubtless feel. What has a poor slave girl to do +with maidenly modesty--the plaything of any master who chooses to smile +upon her for a moment?" + +She spoke bitterly, and Sergius, half frowning, half smiling, reached +out his hand. The contrast between this girl's frankly spoken interest +and the courted Marcia's trivial indifference came to him more +powerfully. What a fool a man was to waste himself on some haughty +mistress who exacted all things and gave nothing! She had taken the +hand he held out, and now, suddenly, he drew her to him, and kissed her. + +Then he found new occasion to marvel over the strange ways of women. +As if awakened from a dream or a part in a comedy, to some instant and +frightful peril, she wrenched herself from him and, wrapping her cloak +around her face, turned and ran like a deer through the hallway and out +into the street. + +Sergius was dazed for a moment by the suddenness of it all; then he +rose. + +"Quick, Smyrnus!" he called to the boy who attended on the porter. +"Follow, and bring me word where she goes." + +The delay had been short, and Smyrnus was swift of foot, but when he +reached the street it was empty as far as he could see, and a dash to +each corner of the house gave no better results. Inquiries, likewise, +were unavailing, and he returned slowly and with shoulders that already +seemed to tingle under the expected rods. + +Meanwhile, Agathocles had essayed to exert his authority over the +invalid, and was protesting volubly against the latter's imprudence. +Sergius was in excellent humour, despite the escape of his conquest. + +"Nonsense, my Agathocles," he began, half guiltily at first, but +gaining confidence as he pursued his justification. "Do you not see, +all this has done me more good than a score of days spent in dull +reclining, with only nauseous draughts to mark the hours by? I have +learned that I am a man again, with an interest in the Republic and +myself. Surely such knowledge is worth a little risk. To-morrow, mark +you, if the gods favour me, I shall descend into the Forum and see if +nothing is to be effected against this rabble in the matter of the +elections. Had she not magnificent eyes, my Agathocles? not those of +the dull ox, as your Homer puts it, but rather of the startled fawn?" + +"They seemed to me more of the fox," said the physician, dryly, "being +golden in colour and very cunning. I doubt you fathomed her smile, +though wherefore she should seek--" + +"Sacrilege! Agathocles," cried Sergius, gayly; "but here comes Smyrnus. +Well, boy, where is the lair of this fox of our good Agathocles?" + +The terrified boy had thrown himself upon his face. + +"I hastened with all speed, master," he protested. "At your word I +flew, but she was gone, as if a god had snatched her up, nor was there +a passer-by who had seen aught--" + +Sergius was frowning ominously; then his face cleared. + +"Doubtless that was it, Smyrnus," he said. "Your judicious piety is +quicker than your heels in saving your back. If a god took her, he +showed excellent taste, and it would be utter sacrilege to punish you +for failing to learn her whereabouts. Come, Agathocles, be not so +gloomy. Do you think it is Aesculapius who has come to your aid? He, +at least, is no spruce, young rival. Be conciliatory, or I may, +perhaps, venture to try my fortune even against--" + +"I am rather of the opinion that some cunning Hermes has tricked Eros +and Aesculapius and my Lord Lucius as well," said the physician. An +expression of grim humour lurked in his face, and Sergius felt +strangely uncomfortable. + +"What is a physician if he talk not in the language of oracles," he +said, querulously. "Well, you may send me to my couch now, if you +will; but, mark you, to-morrow I go to the Forum." + + + + +XI. + +POLITICS. + +On the following day, Sergius, true to his purpose, ordered his litter +to be brought, and, reclining as his weakness compelled, was borne down +into the Forum crowded with its mass of turbulent and perspiring +humanity. Nor was the temper of the rabble doubtful. On every side he +heard arraignments of Fabius, and, through him, of all men guilty of +good birth or riches. Under every portico, speakers were pouring forth +harangues whose ignorance was only matched by their coarseness and +surpassed by their reckless malevolence. Once he bade his bearers set +him down, near where one Quintus Baebius Herennius, a plebeian tribune +and a relative of Varro's, was holding forth to a sympathetic crowd. + +"Do you not know, ye foolish Romans," cried the orator, alternately +slapping his thigh, waving his arms, and casting up his eyes, "that +this Hannibal was brought into Italy by these very nobles, who are +always desiring war? Can you not see how they are protracting the war, +when you consider that one man of the people, our own Minucius, when he +commanded the four legions, was sufficient for the enemy? Behold how +this traitorous, this _noble_ Fabian schemed to expose the brave +Minucius and two legions of the people to destruction, and only rescued +the remnant that he might pose as their saviour and be saluted 'father' +and 'patron.' There, indeed, was our Minucius at fault, as what +honest, poor man is not, when confronted by the wiles of those bred to +craft and trickery! See, too, how the consuls have followed the same +dilatory measures, and can you doubt that it is all by agreement with +these traitor nobles? Know well, now, that this war will have no +ending until a man of the people ends it--a real plebeian; a new man. +See you not that both consuls, by tarrying with the army, have set up +an interregnum, that the wicked nobles may the better influence your +choice? But if you be true Romans, such as were those who camped upon +the Sacred Hill, you will remember that one consulship, at least, is +yours by law, and you will elect a man to fill it who is one of +yourselves and who will spurn the rich, as they now seek to spurn you +and me and all good men." + +Sergius had listened to this harangue, and to the applause which +greeted it, with mingled feelings of indignation and sorrow--sentiments +to which was added surprise when he noted through the closed curtains +of his litter that several patricians passed by and smiled and nodded +to the speaker while he poured forth his diatribes. Now, however, a +new commotion seemed to agitate the throng, who, turning suddenly, ran +pell-mell in one direction, almost overturning the litter--a +catastrophe from which it was only saved by a vigorous use of the +bearers' staves upon the heads of the nearest. + +Sergius thrust aside the curtains and half raised himself to see the +cause of the disturbance. The brightly fullered gown of a candidate +flashed before his eyes, and then he recognized Varro standing upon a +silversmith's counter, smiling this way and that, grasping the hands of +those nearest, kissing his own to the very outskirts of the mob, and +all the while crying out, to the promptings of his nomenclator: +"Greeting to you, Marcus!" "Health, Quintus!" "Commend me to your +brother, my Caius--yes, to be sure--when he shall return from the army. +Ah! friends, when I am consul, there will be a hasty returning from +such foolish wars. You shall see the African fork-bearers winding +through the Forum." + +"And that is the first word of truth I have heard from you, Varro, or +from your Herennius here," cried Sergius, who had risen and now stood, +pale and gaunt, beside his litter. "With you and such as you to +command, we may well look to see the African fork-bearers winding +through the Forum--yes, and pillaging amid its ruins." + +A roar of vituperation drowned whatever answer the candidate might have +made, as, with brandished clubs, cleavers, knives, styli--any weapon +that could be snatched up from the booths--the nearest score of the +crowd made a dash at the presumptuous noble. + +The litter-bearers were sturdy fellows, and their staves were stout, +but the contest was far too unequal. One had gone down with a deep +gash in the shoulder, and the others were quickly forced back upon +their master. + +Sergius stood with his back to one of the square pillars of peperino, +with folded arms and pale face upon which hovered a smile of ineffable +scorn. He recognized his peril: the fate that had befallen many noble +Romans in the election riots of the Republic; but his sentiment was +rather one of indifference than of perturbation, and he was about to +order his slaves to give up their hopeless defence, in order that the +crowd might let them, at least, go without further hurt, when an +entirely unexpected diversion brought him relief and safety. + +Varro had viewed the attack upon his critic with a pleasure that he +scarcely tried to conceal. He kept begging his adherents to be +moderate and abstain from violence, but in so low a voice that his +counsels could not be heard except by those immediately around him, and +were entirely inaudible to the howling assailants to whom they were +presumably addressed. Another voice, however, a shrill, female voice, +came suddenly to Sergius' ears:-- + +"Would that my brother could come to life and command another fleet, +that the streets might be less crowded!" + +Sergius recognized, in a rich litter that was tossed hither and thither +by the billows of the mob, the face of the sister of that Publius +Claudius who had lost for Rome the naval battle off Drepanum. The mob, +too, recognized her, and the scornful speech bit deeply. All around +arose a cry of-- + +"To the aediles with her! To the aediles! She has rejoiced in the +death of our brothers! May the gods curse the noble!" and, in a +moment, Sergius found himself alone but for his bruised and bleeding +servants, while the tide of riot swept up the Forum, bearing the litter +upon its tossing crests, and the virago within continued to scream out +her defiance and contempt. + +Varro remained, surrounded by a few friends, and, as Sergius +approached, he drew himself up, as if to reënforce his courage with a +sense of his importance. The tribune was about to pass him without a +word; but the demagogue, emboldened by this seeming unwillingness for +an encounter, placed himself in his path. + +"Did you hear the kindly wishes that the great express for the health +of their poorer countrymen?" he began, tauntingly. + +"It is like your kind, Varro," replied Sergius, speaking slowly and in +tones of profound contempt, "to attribute to our party any intemperance +of a single opponent; but do you also credit us with the virtues of +individuals? I might with better grace attribute the murderous attack +just made--and with your connivance--upon myself, to the party of the +people. That I do not do so, you may lay to a moderation and +magnanimity that are not learned in the tradesman's booth or the +butcher's shambles." + +Varro flushed crimson, and he looked from side to side, as if to call +upon his friends for new violence; but a company of young patricians +were descending from the Comitia, and his fellows were dull of +comprehension. + +"Do you beware, though, Varro," continued Sergius, "lest, in striving +to attain power and place on the wings of calumny against those better +than yourself, or by the suggestion of false grievances to those who +are ignorant and weak, you may, by these things, incite one riot too +many. Beware, above all things, lest you win." + +Then, drawing his toga close, as if to avoid a contaminating touch, he +strode by to join the approaching band of young men, leaving his +opponent vicious to snarl, but powerless to bite. + +After the usual greetings and inquiries concerning his health, they +walked on together toward the Curtian Pool, and Sergius' thoughts took +on a deeper colour from the despondent speech of his friends. That +Varro would receive the votes of the centuries, beyond all doubt, was +unanimously conceded; and so great was the dissatisfaction with Fabius, +that their regret seemed only for the manner of the popular victory and +the man who was to gain it. A few hot-heads dropped hints to the +effect that it might become necessary to reorganize the patrician clubs +and meet violence with violence, in which event there could be but +little doubt as to the result; but the sentiment of the majority was +adverse to such measures, and they viewed the possibilities with an +indifference that to Sergius seemed even more ominous than the frenzy +of the rabble and the worthlessness of its leaders. His attempts to +defend the Fabian policy, speaking as one of its victims, were +hopelessly thrown away. All Rome was mad for battle, even at the cost +of sending the butcher's son to command the legions; and, two days +later, the result of low chicanery and indifferent lethargy took shape. + +The trumpet had summoned the army of the city to the Field of Mars, and +century after century had entered the enclosure to cast its vote for +Varro--for Varro alone, until no one of the noble candidates, who +received the half-hearted support of their fellows, got even enough +pebbles to be proclaimed elected to the second consulship. To Varro +alone, cringing and insolent, was the oath administered; for Varro +alone was the prayer put up; for Varro was the declaration twice made, +according to the laws of the Republic, and into Varro's hands was +placed the presidency over the assembly that was to elect his colleague. + +Then followed an exhibition of plebeian cunning. There were among the +supporters of the consul those who realized what he himself could not: +his military incompetence and the terrible necessity that, at such a +juncture, there should be at least one soldier-consul. Varro had won +on his merits as self-announced, on the strength of his own arraignment +of his adversaries' shortcomings. He stood forth the incarnation of +party and class hatred; and now the victors, half dazed by the very +completeness of their triumph, paused in mid career to look for a +soldier with whom the army might be entrusted. That he must be a +noble, was self-evident. Even the rabble, now that its first outburst +had passed, was not so mad as to attribute military skill to any of its +wordy leaders. The butcher's colleague must be a patrician, but he +must be such a patrician as would cast reproach upon his class, while +he supplied the one quality requisite to the plebeian situation. To +whose political acumen first occurred the name of Lucius Aemilius +Paullus, no one seemed to know; but, once suggested, there was none to +deny its entire appropriateness. Paullus was a veteran of several +wars, an experienced commander, a brave soldier; and there his merits +ended. He had been brought to trial for misappropriation of the +plunder taken in the Illyrian campaign, and, as many thought, acquitted +by means as scandalous as the crime itself, while his less influential +colleague suffered for both. Harsh and rude, no high-born Roman was +less popular; and his exaggeration of class insolence bade fair to +offer him as an illustration, ready to the tongue of every demagogue, +of what the people must always expect from patrician rule. + +So, one by one, the five noble opponents of Varro were rejected, and +the word went out that, of their enemies, the people would have Paullus +and him alone. + + + + +XII. + +BRAWLINGS. + +More sick at heart, as he grew stronger in body, Sergius returned from +the final voting in the Field of Mars. For some reason the popular +party, sated with triumph, had permitted the election, as praetors, of +good men who had experience in military affairs; perhaps that these +might, together with Paullus, make surer the victory that was to +redound to the honour of the darling of the mob and proclaim to all the +Roman world the superiority of the butcher, Varro, over Fabius, the +well-fathered. + +As Sergius was borne along toward the Palatine district, he found the +streets crowded with a populace he had hardly known to exist in the +city. Down from the lofty tenements of the Aicus, up from the slums of +the Suburra, the Gate of the Three Folds, and the Etruscan Street they +poured, drunk with joy and with hatred of all men who wore white togas +and had money to lend or lands to till. At each corner a denser throng +was gathered around jugglers, tumblers, wrestlers that writhed over the +road-way, actors who danced Etruscan pantomimes and carried their +make-up in little bags slung around their necks, singers of medleys, +and would-be popular poets who spouted coarse epigrams and ribald +satires levelled at the thieving, the effeminate, the adulterous +patricians who thought to rule Rome and had named an Aemilius Paullus +to stand beside and check the generous, the fearless, the incorruptible +Varro. Threatening looks and words were cast at Sergius and the +company of freedmen and clients that surrounded him, until he was not +ill-pleased to see the escort of another noble issue from a side street +and beat its way to where the exhausted bearers had set down the +tribune's litter, pausing to gain breath before attempting to push on +farther. When, however, he recognized in the sturdy old man who strode +along in the midst of the new company, no more distant acquaintance +than the father of Marcia, he was conscious of a strong revulsion. +Better the continued buffeting with an obstreperous mob than the +embarrassments he foresaw in such a rencontre; but it was too late to +avoid it: the interests and perils of the two parties were too nearly +identical, and he heard the gruff voice of his old friend crying out:-- + +"Back, exercisers of the whip! Back, colonizers of chains! To the +cross with you all! Is this Animula or Rome, where rude clowns do not +recognize their betters?" Then, for the first time, perceiving +Sergius: "Greeting to you, my Lucius! May the gods favour you better +than they have the Republic this day." + +At that moment, a big, hulking fellow thrust himself forward in the +path of the advancing patrician and hiccoughed out:-- + +"May you meet with a plague, master! Truly there are to be no betters +or worsers in Rome--now that the noble Varro is consul and--" + +The staff of Torquatus felled him to the ground, where he lay +shuddering and drawing up his legs, while a yell of rage and menace +broke from the crowd. Scarcely changing a line in his grim face, the +old man calmly trussed the folds of his toga about his left arm, freed +his right more fully, and drew a stylus of such size as to suggest a +dagger much more than an instrument for writing: such a weapon as was +born of the election brawls of earlier days, innocent under the law, +yet equally efficient as pen or sword. + +Daunted at his aspect, the foremost assailants held back. + +"Are there not more vinegar drinkers that wish to learn from an old +Roman the manners of old Rome?" asked Torquatus, sneeringly. + +How the fight, once begun, would have ended seemed hardly uncertain, +for the crowd filled all the neighbouring streets: half were drunk, and +nearly half were provided with arms of some sort, many of them such as +were warranted by no pretext of law, save the knowledge that Varro was +consul, and the belief that he would protect his adherents in whatever +breach might please them. The dangerous front of Torquatus and his +company might have sufficed to check those who would have to lead a +rush, but they, unfortunately, had the least to say on the subject of +giving battle. Already the mobs, pouring in from the side streets at +the first scent of a brawl, were pushing the forlorn hope, all +unwilling, to its fate; three or four had already gone down with broken +heads, and a freedman of Torquatus had been stabbed in the side, when, +above the tumult, rose a voice crying:-- + +"Make way for the Consul, Paullus! Way! way!" + +The matter, truly, was becoming serious, thought the outskirts of the +mob--all of them who could hear the shout. A brush with the fiercest, +the most hated, the most hating aristocrat that had been borne behind +the fasces for many a year, would mean punishment with a heavy hand. +The pressure was at once relieved, and though those in front saw no +sign of consul or lictor--saw only Sergius who had descended from his +litter and was leading his company in a vigorous attack--yet they were, +for the most part, only too glad to escape from the glaring eyes of +Titus Manlius and the broad sweep of his weapon. The old man was +puffing hard from the unwonted exertion when Sergius reached his side +through the fast-scattering assailants. + +"The gods have punished my blasphemy with kindness," began Torquatus, +"in sending my Lord Paullus in such timely fashion." + +"Say, rather, my father, in sending his name into the mind of one +Lucius Sergius," said Sergius, laughing. + +For a moment the other frowned with a puzzled look; then his face +cleared, with as close an approach to a smile as it could wear. + +"And our rescue is not due to the consul, then?" he asked, still slow +to fully grasp the ruse. + +"To the consul's name and to the favouring cunning of Mercury," said +Sergius, bowing. + +"Truly, you should command," exclaimed Torquatus. "A general so ready +in craft as you are might hope to match the African--and, by the gods! +no one else seems able to. Come, let us go on to my house." + +Though harshly said, and in tones that one less acquainted with the +speaker might well have mistaken for sarcasm, Sergius knew that the +compliment was genuine. The aged patrician had turned and strode away, +as he finished speaking, and etiquette left to the younger man no +choice but to pay to the elder the reverence of his escort. That he +had asked what he might well have looked for as a matter of course, was +something of a condescension, according to the strict ceremoniousness +of the ancient usage; therefore Sergius hurried on and overtook him, +offering his litter, at which the other sniffed contemptuously. + +"May the gods grant me to lie at rest by the Appian Way, before I +require such feet!" Then, as his sharp eyes noted the flush upon +Sergius' face, he added: "Fever, wounds, and death may pardon +effeminacy; and, truly, I would beg you to accompany me as you came, +were it not that a climb up the Palatine should bring new health to one +who could run ten miles with a broken shoulder. Believe me, my friend, +the dictator thought better of you than he spoke, and would have +regretted the axe. Jupiter grant that it be yours to justify his +opinion!" + +No stimulant could have given such strength to the convalescent as did +these words, and from such a source. The dictator had not condemned, +then; he had even spoken well of him. The knowledge of it put to +flight the embarrassment he had felt when he realized that he was going +perforce to Marcia's house--perhaps into her presence; and he found +himself standing straighter and stepping out with longer and bolder +strides. + +"Good words are better than bad ones for a good man," mused Torquatus, +wagging his head sententiously, and darting at his companion a +comprehensive glance, behind which lurked a grim smile. "If women +could ever learn as much, they might govern us the more readily--which +the gods forefend! as I doubt not they will." + +Then the company halted. It was many months since Sergius had stood +before that door, and he could not, without grave discourtesy, refuse +the invitation to enter. Well, what mattered it? Marcia cared +nothing; why should he? Then, too, the stimulus of the dictator's +approval was still upon him, as the warning cry of the porter bade +those nearest stand back while the door swung out. Most of the party +took their leave here, but several followed into the atrium for adieus +more appropriate to their station. + +At last all had departed save Sergius, who, having given orders that +his attendants should await him in the street, passed on into the +peristyle with his host. + +There, beside the fountain, spinning, as he had so often seen her--as +he had seen her through all the days and nights of the campaign--sat +the lady Marcia. Two of her maidens were assisting: one who glanced up +at Sergius and smiled tauntingly; and another who turned her face away, +and seemed to be trying to hide it in the close inspection of a great +bunch of fleece. But both the forwardness of the one and the +bashfulness of the other were wasted upon the visitor. As a matter of +fact, he was so lost in wonder at his courage and self-control as to be +well past observing the idiosyncrasies of slaves; and, if his own +attitude was acceptable, even to himself, his admiration for that of +his hostess amounted to absolute bitterness. That she, a mere girl, +should rise and come forward with so conventional yet friendly a +greeting, that neither her lip should tremble nor her cheek flush, was +little short of intolerable. Nevertheless it helped to brace his own +resolves yet more firmly. Such poise, after all that had been between +them, could have its source only in the most absolute indifference. + +"Health to the noble Lucius! Let him believe that there is no one of +his friends who thanks the gods more fervently for his recovery." + +On its face the speech was cordial--much too cordial for love that has +quarrelled; therefore he bent his head and answered:-- + +"Were it not impiety, the noble Lucius would thank his well-wisher for +her words, more, even, than he thanks the gods for his recovery." + +"Ah!" she replied lightly, "then he must scatter his thanks yet more +broadly, for there cannot be a defenceless woman in Rome who does not +rejoice that so brave a defender is spared to the State." + +Sarcasm for sarcasm, he thought bitterly, but he answered as +carelessly:-- + +"In that case, I shall not bear my thanks beyond the gods; for if my +health be no greater care to you than to all the white stoles in the +city, I think I can measure its value." + +An expression of almost infantile surprise and reproach crossed her +features. + +"You are either very forgetful or very ungrateful," she said. "If +Venus has healed so faithful a votary, surely mortal women have not +been lacking in their sympathy; nor, if report tells truly, has the +noble Lucius been lacking in gratitude--until now." + +That shaft struck home, and, for a moment, Sergius could find no +answer. He could only remember the episode of the girl who had come to +him, and wonder which one of his household could have borne treacherous +word to Marcia of his weakness and his discomfiture. Meanwhile she had +turned carelessly and dismissed her women, and one had gone, throwing +back laughing glances, the other, with her face still buried in the +wool with which she had filled her arms. + +Torquatus had been standing near, somewhat puzzled by what he felt to +be a battle of words between his daughter and his guest, but a battle +whose plans of attack or defence he found himself at a loss to fathom. +Feeling at last that it was incumbent upon him as host to break in upon +badinage that bade fair to become embarrassing, he spoke briefly of his +encounter with the mob and of Lucius' timely aid and clever ruse. +Marcia listened closely, nodding her head from time to time, but her +colour had deepened and her hand was clenched tight when the story was +finished. + +"Who will be safe in Rome, father!" she burst out. "The rabble elect +their magistrates, and the magistrates, in return, let them do as they +please. When it comes to attacking you; a consular--a Manlius! We +must sleep no more in our houses unless the household be in arms and on +guard." + +Sergius gazed in astonishment. A Marcia spoke whom he had never known; +but the old man smiled grimly. + +"It is the blood," he said. "She is truly 'Manlia,' though called, +against custom, for my dead Marcius. When Claudians change the toga +for the paludamentum, and Ogulnians cease to babble of Greek +philosophy, then shall a Manlian be lacking in the spirit of our +order--ay, and in the courage to act." + +Marcia did not seem to hear his words. Her brows were drawn together +in what Sergius considered a very pretty frown. She turned toward him. + +"They have gotten their butcher for consul," she went on; "now let him +lead them. How long before they will be begging for the swords they +have despised! Let them alone! Let Hannibal work his will; then we +shall stand forth, like the exiled Camillus, to defend a Rome purged of +its black blood--a Rome worth defending--" + +But Sergius had recovered from his surprise, and his face was serious, +as he interrupted the torrent of words. + +"Patrician and plebeian must stand or fall together, my Marcia," he +said quietly. "It is the Republic that we shall defend, and defend the +more bravely because it is, in a way, defenceless. If a time of +madness come upon a parent, do we not guard her the more tenderly who +cannot guard herself?--ay, and even against the foolish acts she may +herself attempt?" + +"And you--you--a Sergius, will serve under this Varro?" she exclaimed. + +"Truly," he said bowing, "I am a Roman, and the barbarians are in +Italy. When they are gone, I will fight Varro on the rostra, in the +Senate. Perhaps I shall even lead my clients to drag him, stabbed, +from his house." + +She was gazing at him with great, round eyes in which the contempt and +anger began to give place to a softer look--a look which no man might +hope quite to interpret; then she threw her head to one side and +laughed, but the laugh was short and nervous. + +"I congratulate your eloquence and patriotism, as I sympathize with +your unpropitious gallantry. May Venus make happy your next pursuit of +a pretty slave." + +Again she laughed, and this time her laugh was unfeignedly malicious. +Sergius flushed crimson; Torquatus looked scandalized and stern; but +before either could answer, she was gone. + +"You will return to the army, then?" said the old man, hurriedly and as +if to cover his annoyance. "How soon will your strength be sufficient?" + +"I shall set out to-night," said Sergius. The flush had gone from his +face, and he was very pale, while his voice sounded as if from far +away. "By so doing I shall journey by easier stages, and shall avoid +accompanying the consul; nor will he reach the camp before me." + +"There is talk of new levies," said Torquatus, vaguely. + +"Yes, and there will be fighting soon." + +"Flaminius fought." + +"May Jupiter avert the omen! and you will forgive me, my father, if I +bid you a too hasty farewell? I had not determined to go so soon--but +it is best. And there is preparation to be made." + +Torquatus followed him silently to the door, and watched the light of +his torches till it died out below the hill; then he shook his head +with a puzzled, sad expression. + +"Yes, truly," he said; "let the omen be lacking." + + + + +XIII. + +THE RED FLAG. + +The red flag fluttered in the breeze above the tent of Varro. + +Months had come and gone since the plebeians had triumphed in the Field +of Mars; months of weary lying in camp, months of anxious watching, +months of marches and countermarches. Contrary to the expectations of +Sergius, neither of the new consuls had gone straight to the legions, +and the pro-consuls, Servilius and Regulus, remained in command. +Paullus had busied himself in preparing for the coming spring, levying +new men and new legions, and directing from the city a policy not +unlike that of Fabius; while Varro, on the other hand, as if maddened +by his sudden elevation, rushed from Senate House to Forum and from +Forum to every corner where a mob could congregate; everywhere rolling +his eyes and waving his hands, now shrieking frantic denunciations +against the selfish, the criminal, the traitorous nobles who had +brought the war to Italy and sustained it there by their wicked +machinations and contemptible cowardice; now congratulating his hearers +that the people had at last taken the conspirators by the throat and +had elected a fearless consul, an incorruptible consul, an able consul, +one who would soon show the world that there were men outside of the +three tribes. Then he would fall to mapping out his campaign--a +different plan for each cluster of gaping listeners, but each ending in +such a slaughter of invaders as Italy had never seen, and a picture of +the long triumph winding up the Sacred Way, of Hannibal disappearing +forever within the yawning jaws of the Tullianum. At times, when his +imagination ran riot most, he went so far as to depict with what +luxuriance the corn would grow on the farm of that happy man whose land +should be selected by the great consul, the plebeian consul, the consul +Varro, for his slaughter of the enemies of the Roman people. + +To these harangues Paullus and the nobles listened in wonder and +disgust--even in terror; and when, at length, the consuls set out to +take command of the greatest army Rome had ever put into the field, the +story was passed from mouth to mouth of how Fabius had spoken with +Paullus and warned him that he must now do battle against two +commanders: Hannibal and his own colleague; and of how Paullus had +answered in words that told more of foreboding than of hope. + +Even the Senate seemed to have fallen under the coarse spell of this +mouthing ranter. News had come that Hannibal was at Cannae, had seized +upon the Roman stores in the citadel there; that, strongly posted, he +was scouring the country in all directions; that the allies could not +be expected to stand another season of ravage; and so, when the consuls +set out to take command of the legions, it was with the express +direction of the fathers to give battle on the first favourable +opportunity. + +Still, there was room left them for some discretion, and when Paullus +had viewed the country along the banks of the Aufidus, level as it lay +and open to the sweep of cavalry, his soldier eye told him that the +opportunity was not here, and that, with a short delay, the enemy must, +in the lack of safe forage, retire to more favourable ground. + +Then followed quarrels and denunciations and furious mouthings; but +Varro did not neglect to use one day of his command to lead the army +forward to a point between the Carthaginians and the sea, whence it +would be impossible for Paullus to hope to withdraw them safely in the +face of the foe. + +It was on the first of Sextilis that Hannibal offered battle; but this +was Paullus' day, and he had lain quiet in camp, "Sulking," as his +colleague exultantly put it, "because a plebeian's generalship had kept +another do-nothing patrician commander from running away." Then the +next morning broke--Varro's day--and the red flag fluttered from the +spear above Varro's tent. + +A group of men were gathered before the quarters occupied by certain of +the special cavalry: mounted volunteers, for the most part of rank, who +served out of respect to the consul, Paullus. Fully armed, with horses +held near by, they were already prepared to ride out at the word, and +they listened to the din of preparation going on on every side, and +watched the crimson signal of battle that now flapped lazily in the +wind and again hung limp against its staff. + +"The butcher has his way at last," remarked a youth who had scarce +offered up his first beard; but the man he addressed, Marcus Decius, +growled in reply:-- + +"Wait, only wait, my little master, and we shall see who is the butcher +and who is the fat steer." + +"But," put in another of the company, "have you not heard that our camp +beyond the stream had no water yesterday? that the Numidians cut them +off from it? Doubtless we are to cross over to its relief." + +Decius rose from his buckler, upon which he had been resting, and swept +his arm out across the country. + +"All one," he said; "water or blood; this bank or that! Look! No room +for our infantry to spread out; level ground for their horse to sweep +clean. You have never been close to the Numidians, my master?" and he +pointed to the scar across his forehead. "They ride fast and strike +hard--when the country pleases them." + +The boy laughed carelessly, but said nothing, while he who had spoken +third hesitated a moment and frowned. Then he said in a lower voice:-- + +"You are an old soldier, Marcus,--a head decurion once,--and you would +do better than try to terrify men of less experience." + +Decius ground his teeth, and his eyes flashed, but he lowered his voice +when he replied:-- + +"I thank you, Caius Manlius, for the reminder; and I also may recall to +you that I am neither the only nor the highest officer who is serving +as volunteer to-day, because Varro must have legions commanded by +butchers and bakers and money-lenders. I, too, am a plebeian, and I +cast my pebble for my order (whereat the infernal gods are doubtless +now rejoicing); but I am also, as you say, an old soldier, and hold the +camp to be no place for the tricks of the Forum. As for frightening +recruits, if words and the sight of old scars will frighten them, they +had best ride north to-day hard and fast." + +Manlius' face flushed at the reminder of his own lost command, and, as +if by consent, both men glanced over at another who stood near them, +leaning on his spear. Drawn by the centred attention of the two, +Lucius Sergius turned from his inspection of the rising mists, beyond +which lay the Carthaginian forces, and looked silently and sadly at his +friends: Manlius, the brother of his mistress, parted from him for a +while by petty embarrassments and diverse duties, but, for the last +days, closer than ever in kindred service and fellowship; and Decius, +the sturdy comrade of the Campanian raid, the man who talked, now like +Ulysses, now like Thersites, but who always fought like Diomed; the +very Nisus who had saved his life. It seemed, too, as if the others +understood the import of his glance, for Decius turned away +ostentatiously, and sought to arrange the leathern straps of his +corselet skirt, while Manlius strode over and grasped Sergius' hand. + +"The butcher showed us better favour than he intended, when he put +others in our commands," he said gayly. "We shall fight side by side, +and perhaps my sister may be pleased to play the siren no longer. +Besides, I am well satisfied to be free from any of the +responsibilities of this day." + +"Marcia is no songstress of the rock, my Caius," said Sergius, half +sadly, half playfully; "unless her heart be the rock from which she +sings--a rock to me; but the gods have given men other things, when +women do not choose to love:--things that will serve to stir us today. +Afterward we shall be still." Then, noting that the young man who had +first addressed Decius was now watching their talk with troubled face, +he raised his voice cheerfully. "Tribune or volunteer, it is all one +to me. Do we not serve under Aemilius Paullus and his Illyrian +auspices? After this day, friends, we shall see no more pulse-eaters +in Italy." + +Suddenly, a blast of trumpets rang clear, above the noise of +preparation; lieutenants dashed hither and thither, their legs bent +along their horses' sides; several cohorts marched past, to man the +rampart nearest the foe, while from behind came the louder rattle of +arms, and the earth shook under the tread of the legions, pressing on +through the porta dextra, and spreading out in three great columns that +plunged down the slope into the Aufidus, and rose again, and pushed out +into the plain on its southern bank. Hastati, principes, triarii--they +marched in order of battle, ready to face about at the moment of +attack, while, as they deployed, the famished Romans across the river +swarmed down, under shelter of the protecting lines, and, lying thick +in the turbid water below, drank as if their parched tongues and lips +would never soften. + +The morning mists were clearing. Strange sounds and rumblings came +also from the south and west, and the red flag hung limp upon the spear. + +Still the legions streamed on, but no orders had come to the special +volunteers, and Sergius began to wonder whether they were to be left to +guard the camp, as an added indignity to their rank. He ascended the +rampart, with Manlius and Decius, and strove to pierce the distance in +the west. Now and then a broad flash of light seemed to shine before +his eyes, and ever there came to his ears the rumble of tramping +thousands; the dust, too, was thickening, to take the place of the +scattered mists, and the wind blew it up in blinding clouds into the +face of Rome's battle. + +"Gods! what is Terrentius Varro doing!" cried Decius suddenly, and the +three turned at his voice. A nodding forest of crests, red and black, +rising a cubit above the uncovered helmets of the legionaries, seemed +to fill the eastern plain and extend almost to where the Adriatic beat +upon the shingle. "Look at his front! Look at how closely the +maniples are crushed together! Gods! they are almost 'within the +rails' already." + +Sergius looked, and the frown upon his brow deepened. + +"Eighty thousand men," he muttered; "and we shall scarce outflank their +forty thousand. Does Varro wish to cast aside every advantage! Gods! +what gain is there in such depth? and he might--" + +"Evidently you do not understand the strategy of great commanders who +have studied war." + +The voice that interrupted was cynical and scornful, to a degree that +men hated the speaker even before they saw him; and, when the three +wheeled quickly, his face gave nothing to dispel the bad impression. A +tall, gaunt man, in plain and somewhat battered armour; a face +sharp-featured, very dark, and deeply lined wherever the wrinkles lay +that expressed pride and contempt and violent passions; lowering brows +from beneath which shone little beady, cunning eyes that opponents +feared and distrusted: this was Lucius Aemilius Paullus, the conqueror +of Illyria, the man who had barely escaped conviction for his +peculations, the colleague of Varro the butcher, a patrician of the +bluest blood in Rome, a knave in pecuniary matters, selfish and +ungoverned, but a brave and wary soldier from cothurni to crest. + +"You seem to be criticising a Roman consul: even my brother, Varro;" he +said again, for the three had only bowed in reply to his former speech. +"Are you not presumptuous?--you, Lucius Sergius; and you, Caius +Manlius--boys in war--and you, Decius, or whoever you may be--a man of +Varro's order, if I mistake not?" + +"Yes, my father, I criticise," replied Sergius, at last, for the others +said nothing. + +"Perhaps you were thinking that he has extended his front too far?" +said the consul, and there was infinite sarcasm in his tones. + +Sergius grew crimson under the taunting voice and the little, shifty +eyes. + +"I have ventured to say," he replied haughtily, "that the consul, +Varro, is not using our numbers as he might. As you have noted, the +front _is_ contracted, where we might easily lash around their flank +like the thongs of a scourge. Nevertheless had I known that the noble +colleague of the general was near me, I would have restrained my words." + +"Ah! then you have doubtless grown more respectful of commanders since +you disobeyed your dictator in Campania;" but now the anger in Sergius' +face told the speaker that the limit of endurance had been reached, and +his tone became less offensive. "That is in the old days, though, and +you _did_ run twelve miles with a broken shoulder: you see I know +all--only I am sure that you are not realizing how deeply your general +has studied the Punic wars, or perhaps you do not know how necessary is +depth to the battle that would stand against the great war-beasts. It +is possible, barely possible, that our most scientific commander has +forgotten that the enemy has no elephants here; but what is that to a +great genius? He has learned that Carthage wars with elephants, that +these are best met by deepening the files, and that we are about to +fight Carthage; therefore he deepens the files, though the last +elephant in Italy died two years ago in the northern marshes. If you +are beaten, you will at least have the satisfaction of being beaten +while fighting most learnedly." + +As Sergius noted the bitterness and agony in the voice that spoke, he +found his resentment giving place to pity for the hard, grim man who, +powerless to avert, yet saw clearly every cord of the snare into which +he was being driven. + +"Do we guard the camp, my father?" he asked, gently, when Paullus had +finished. + +The latter started from the gloomy stare with which he was regarding +the fast-forming lines. + +"I have been offered the command of the camp," he said, almost +fiercely. "I have refused it. Escape to the north would be too +easy--and I do not wish to escape. What do you think the centuries +would do if I came home beaten? I who escaped so narrowly before?" He +leered cunningly at his listeners; then his face grew set, and his +voice cold and even. "I have solicited command of the Roman cavalry. +We shall fight on the right wing, beside the river, and I do not think +many of us will ride from the battle. Varro commands the cavalry of +the allies on the left, and the pro-consuls"--he hesitated a +moment--"the pro-consuls market their beeves in the centre. You will +cross with me now. My volunteers ride about my body. It is time. It +is time." + +The breeze from the southward freshened every minute, and the red flag +lashed out angrily toward the sea. + + + + +XIV. + +CANNAE. + +The cavalry trumpets rang out their clear notes, and Sergius and his +companions threw themselves upon their kneeling chargers. Then they +rode out and down the bank, behind the consul who, with head hanging +upon his breast, had turned his rein the moment he had given the word. +What if the dust did swirl up in blinding sheets from the south? +Before them lay the Roman battle, horse and foot--such an army as the +city had never sent forth. What if its masses were somewhat cramped? +its front narrow? its general an amateur? They were to fight at last, +and how should a mongrel horde of barbarians, but half their number, +stand firm against the impetus of such a shock. A moment's hush; then +measured voices rose in calm cadence--the voices of the tribunes +administering the military oath to each cohort, "Faithful to the +senate, obedient to your imperator." What Roman could doubt that the +voice of victory spoke in the thunderous response! + +And now the clangour of cymbals and the roll of drums came up on the +breezes from the south, and, with them, a strange uproar of barbarous +shouts and cries. Then it was that the Roman legionaries began to +crash their heavy javelins against their great, oblong shields until +the din drowned everything else, and the thunder of Jove himself might +have roared in vain. + +Sergius had ridden up the bank, almost at the consul's rein, and his +eyes wandered eagerly over Varro's array. Eight full legions with +their quota of allies seemed welded into one huge column: Romans on the +right, Italians on the left. The sun was well up, and its rays played +upon a very sea of bronze from which the feathered crests rose and +shivered like foam. Far beyond the column, on the extreme left, he +could make out squadrons of allied horse, and then he turned to take +his place amid the cavalry of the city: young men well born, burning +with courage and ardour and wrath. Despite himself his heart rose with +a leap of triumph. A moment later he caught the little, beady eyes of +the consul looking through him, as it were, while the thin mouth +beneath writhed itself into a sneer. + +"You hope? That is well," said Paullus. "Young men fight better and +die better when they hope; but I will show you how a Roman soldier can +give up his life for naught. I would wish," he added with lowered +voice and speaking as if in self-communion, "that more of our horsemen +had adopted the Greek arms. Reed spears and ox-hide bucklers will not +stand long against heavy cavalry. A temple to Mars the avenger, if I +had but a front of Illyrian horse! See now! There are the scum!" + +His voice rose eagerly at the last words, and Sergius turned from the +dark face now flashing with a sudden animation, and looked southward +over the plain. For a moment the dust was too thick; then it seemed to +clear away, and the Carthaginian army burst into view. + +Undulating like the open sea and rolling steadily on like the long, +slow sweep of billows upon a level shore, the glory of barbaric war +drew near. On their left, resting upon the river's bank, rode the +Spanish and Gallic cavalry, strengthened here and there by a horse and +man in full armour like those of the Clinabarians; and the face of +Paullus clouded again when he noted what opponents he must meet: men, +horses, arms--all heavier than his own with the exception of a few +turmae newly equipped in the Greek fashion. Beyond them, thrown back +in echelon, marched Africans in little squares of sixteen front. These +had substituted for their own equipment the Roman spoils of Trasimenus +and Trebia. Then, and again somewhat in advance, came alternate +companies of Gauls and Spaniards spread out in long thin array; the +former stripped to the navel, their hair tied up in a tufted knot, and +bearing their great swords upon their shoulders; the Spaniards +glittering in their purple-bordered tunics of snowy linen. The waving +pikes of phalanges told of more Africans who seemed to lie in echelon +beyond, while far away, toward the low hills overgrown with copsewood +that formed the eastern horizon, clouds of swift-moving dust, amid +which shadows darted hither and thither at seeming random, marked the +presence of the wild riders of Numidia who were to face the horsemen of +Italy and of the Latin name. In front of all, the plain was dotted +with naked men advancing at regular intervals and bearing small +bucklers of lynx-hide--the famous Balearic slingers that always opened +the day of battle for Carthage. The heart of Sergius swelled within +him, beating hard and fast under the tension of the moment. Only a few +minutes more, and those magnificent armies would crash together, not to +part until the plain should be heaped with corpses that were now men; +until the gods should adjudge the sovereignty of Italy. Then he grew +calm, calm as the consul himself, and gazed enraptured upon the +picture, as if it meant no more than art and show--only the wind came +fresher from the south, and the fine dust, ground up by marching +thousands, smarted and blinded his eyes. + +Nearer and nearer they drew, with steady, slow advance, while Rome +stood still and awaited their coming. And now a commotion seemed to +start from the far distant south: the roar of voices, the blinding +flash of the sun on tossing swords, a cloud of dust distinct upon the +plain, a clump of horse-head standards rising amid it, and a group of +riders urging their galloping steeds along the invaders' front. Rich +armour of strange pattern shone among them, and, a length ahead of the +rest, Sergius could see a white stallion with close-cropped mane, and +hoofs and fetlocks stained vermilion, that danced and curvetted and +arched its proud neck under the touch of a master. He was not an +over-tall man, but his figure as he rode seemed well knit and graceful. +His armour was of brown-bronze scale-work, rich with gold and jewels, +while a white mantle fringed with Tyrian purple hung from his +shoulders; a helmet of burnished gold, horned and crested, gleamed like +a star upon his head, while, even at the distance, even through the +swirl, of dust, Sergius saw the crisp curled, black beard, and dreamed +that he caught the flash of dark, deep-set eyes. There was no need of +the beating of weapons against shields, no need of the roar and howls +and shrill screaming in a score of tongues to tell the stranger's name. +Most of the soldiers kept ranks, but here and there a Gaul would bound +forward, dancing with strange leaps and whirling his sword about his +head, to throw himself prone before and beneath the vermilion hoofs +that never paused or swerved in their gallop. Not a movement, not a +glance of the rider gave sign of acknowledgment or recognition; not a +look was cast upon the grovelling form, safe or hurt or maimed--only +the soldier's comrades howled their plaudits, mingled with laughter and +rude jeers whenever the devotee lay still or writhed or rose staggering +from some stroke of the vermilion hoofs. + +But when the horseman drew bridle before the extreme left of the +centre, and, with eyes shaded by his hand, gazed long and earnestly at +the Roman array, the plaudits that had greeted his passage died away +into low murmurs and then silence. "The general is studying the enemy. +Be silent! Who knows but he would commune with Baal and Moloch? Be +silent!" So the word ran around and through the African squares. + +Suddenly peals of laughter broke from the group of Carthaginian +officers that had ridden behind and who now clustered around him. The +calm that no devotion, no suffering, no danger of men could move, was +gone; the schalischim had turned from his measuring of the enemy to +smile and jest with his friends. Thereupon they threw back their heads +and laughed loud and long; and then the Africans noted it, and hoarse +cries of joy broke from their ranks. "The schalischim must be sure of +victory. Praise be to Melkarth!" Sergius saw a captain of one of the +squares run out and touch his forehead to the earth before his +commander; but no Roman heard the man's words pregnant with fate. + +"Now, my father, let The Lion's Brood lead the beasts of all the fields +to their feast. We hunger, father, we hunger!" + +And Hannibal had made answer, pointing northward toward the +plume-crested sea of blazing bronze, "Lo! friend; there are your meat +and wine." + +Then a new roar of acclamation broke upward and rolled away to the +east. Two richly armed riders parted from the group and dashed off: +Maharbal, light and slender, bending far over his horse's neck, rode +headlong in Numidian fashion to his Numidians; Hasdrubal, erect and +dignified, galloped to head the Gaulish and Spanish horse upon the +banks of Aufidus; trumpets, drums, cymbals, crashed out in mad, +barbaric discords; and, with their horse-head standards tossing amid +the forest of spears, the Carthaginian line drove forward to the attack. + +Running fast before the line of battle, Sergius could still make out, +even through the dust, those same naked men with lynx-hide bucklers, +dotting the plain at regular intervals, and each man's right arm seemed +always whirling about his head. The Roman light troops had pushed on +to skirmish, and now they began to fall back, though no arrow or +javelin could have reached them--could have flown to the foe. Sergius +watched in surprise their confusion and terror as they sought to plunge +among the legionaries or hide themselves behind the horsemen; nor had +they fled unscathed. Here a man ran by screaming and clasping his +shattered hand to his breast; then another staggered up, with arm +hanging broken at his side, while the big drops of blood fell slowly +from his fingers; and yet a third appeared, pale and helpless, +supported between two companions. + +Sounds, too, now dull and heavy, and again ringing and metallic, seemed +to punctuate the roar of the advancing host. Sergius saw a horseman +near him clap his hand to his forehead and plunge headlong to the +earth: horses reared and snorted, some fell with ugly, red blotches on +their breasts and throats; the clangour and the thuds came +faster--faster; for now the clay and leaden bullets of the slingers +fell in showers, like hailstones, and it was good armour that turned +them. + +Manlius had leaped down to aid a friend who was reeling helplessly, +with both eyes beaten out, and, a moment later, he approached Sergius, +holding up a slinger's bullet. The red had sunken into the lines of +the stamped inscription, and displayed them in hideous relief, "This to +your back, sheep!" + +"That is always the way with barbarians," sneered Marcus Decius. "No +blow without an insult--look! They shall have blows themselves, soon, +that will need no insults to piece them out." + +Paullus had watched with eagerness, with anxiety, for the signal to +advance. Varro seemed to hesitate, while the great masses of Rome, +lashed by the bitter rain of the slings, writhed and groaned in anguish +and rage; the light troops had disappeared, and the Balearians, now +close at hand, leaped and slung without let or hindrance. Then it was +that Paullus, waiting no longer, made a sign to his trumpeters. +"Scatter me that rabble!" he cried, and the cavalry clarions raised +their voices in one long, swelling peal of sound. + +"Close! close!" rose the shout of battle, and the Roman horse dashed +forward into the dust cloud--forward upon the slingers that suddenly +were not there, had vanished, as it were, into the earth itself. + +The straight trumpets and curved horns of the legions were ringing +behind them, stirred to life at last, but the horsemen did not hear. +What were those looming up ahead? Not naked slingers--armoured +cavalry! Hasdrubal with his Gauls and Spaniards were before them--upon +them; and all sense and volition were lost in the terrific shock. + +Line after line went down, as if at touch, while fresh lines poured on +over the heaving mass of men and horses, until those who were face to +face seemed to fight upon a hill. Fiercer grew the pressure, tighter +and more dense the throng; horses, crushed together, powerless to move, +snorted and tossed their heads in terror, while the riders leaned +forward and grappled with those opposite. Weapons first, then hands +clutching at throats were doing the deadly work, and the dead, man and +horse, stood fast amid the press, unable even to fall and become merged +into the hideous, purple thing beneath their feet. + +Mere weight, though, was beginning to tell. The human ridge that had +marked the joining of battle seemed far back among the enemy, and +squadron after squadron, in close array, breasted its top and plunged +down to mingle with the living or take their places among the dead. +The Romans were giving ground, slowly, stubbornly, but unmistakably, +and still, above the shouts and shrieks, the trampling and the clash of +weapons, the groans and the hard, short breathing, they could hear the +harsh voice of the consul, Paullus, urging his men to make battle +firmly. + +Backward, steadily backward; and now, in one of those mad rushes, in +which men who seemed immovably wedged were swirled about like the water +in a maelstrom, Sergius found himself close to the consul, with Manlius +but a few paces in front. The thin, cruel lips had writhed away from +the white teeth, the helmet was gone, and the scant, black hair was +dabbled with blood that flowed from a slight cut upon the general's +brow; the snake-like eyes sought those of the young patrician with a +look wherein exultation and despair were strangely mingled. + +"To the earth! to the earth, all!" he cried, at the same moment +plunging his sword into his horse's throat, and lighting firmly on his +feet, as the animal sank suddenly down. "We _must_ stand. Gods! where +are the legions? Clashing shields and waving javelins, while we are +cut to pieces! Gods! they shall pay for it!" Then he drew close to +Sergius' ear and whispered as calmly as if in the praetorium: "Learn, +now, a lesson of war, my son. Hannibal destroys us piecemeal, choosing +where he is strong and we are weak, while Varro allows _his_ strength +to stand and rest and wait for its turn to come. Down! down all!" + +Outnumbered, outarmed, borne down and back, the Roman cavalry still +fought, but the press had grown looser, the mass less dense; and now, +at the word of the consul, all that could hear his voice obeyed the +order of despair, ancient as the day of Lake Regillus. Man after man +sprang to earth. Here was freer swing for weapons, here was surer +foothold, better chance to stand fast, and, for a moment, the thronging +foe seemed to recoil before the determined onslaught. + +But it was not recoil. It was only the devouring of the foremost by +that red monster underneath. Who could recoil, with the squadrons +still pouring on, over the hill of corpses behind? Beaten, a man could +but die in his place, and that much they did. Many, too, had followed +the Roman example, leaping from their steeds and fighting hand to hand, +till the cavalry battle had changed into a thousand combats of man +against man. + +It was here that Caius Manlius fell. Sergius was but a few feet from +him when he saw the youth sway gently, and, bowing his head, sink down. +He had made an effort to push to his side, and then the front of the +enemy seemed to receive some new impetus and surged forward over the +spot. What mattered it? He had seen the red spear point peeping out +between his friend's shoulders. He was dead, as they would all soon +be, and the couch was purple and kinglike. At that moment, he felt his +arm gripped hard, and turned to look into the consul's face. + +"Do you not see it is over?" said Paullus, sharply. + +"How?" + +"We are falling back--_forced_ back--faster and faster. We are where +we first stood. Do you see that sapling by the river? I marked it +before we rode out. Soon we shall break; come!" + +"Where?" asked Sergius. + +"Where there may yet be hope, if the gods will it,--if they strike down +Varro: the centre, the legions. I do not believe they have fairly +advanced their standards yet." + +"Do we fly?" and, as he spoke, Sergius frowned darkly. + +"Fool! We _fight_. Later, perhaps, we shall die, but not here. In +the _centre_--" + +As he spoke, a new, swirling rush seemed to carry them away, still +together, first with furious violence, then more slowly. + +"Ah! it has come," said the consul, quietly. "This way. The dust is +blinding, but I think the sun is behind us." Pushing on and striking +right and left as he went, Aemilius Paullus fought a pathway through +flying and pursuing men. Sergius followed and once, when he saw the +consul cut down the boy who had stood near and talked to them that +morning, he stopped still and shuddered. + +Paullus paused and laughed at him over his shoulder. + +"A flying man in the path of a general is much worse than a dead one," +he said. "Besides, none of them can save his life in that +direction--so it is nothing." + +At that moment, indeed, the prophecy that no man of the Roman cavalry +would escape, seemed fair for fulfilment. Few fought on, and these +were soon ridden down, while Gauls and Spaniards thundered upon the +rear of such as sought safety of the rein, and slew them with steady, +measured strokes. Only the consul with perhaps a dozen others were, +for the time, safe. They were clear of the rout; within the protecting +reach of the great, legionary column, that was but just beginning to +move, and they turned, gasping for breath, and, with dazed eyes, +watched the flight and pursuit sweep by along the river bank. + + + + +XV. + +"WITHIN THE RAILS." + +It was then that Sergius first realized that Caius Manlius, his friend, +the brother of Marcia, was indeed dead; but the time for such thoughts +ivas short. Clenching his teeth in a paroxysm of anger, he again +turned to follow Paullus and Decius, who had passed into the ranks of +the legions and joined themselves to the personal volunteers of the +pro-consul, Servilius. + +The great column was moving now, steadily gathering impetus, and there +was little speech between the generals. Servilius gazed with gloomy +brows at the consul and the half dozen men that remained to him, and no +question as to the fate of the right wing was asked or answered. + +"How fight they on the left?" asked Paullus, after a moment's pause. + +"The allies skirmish with the Numidians," replied Servilius. + +"You mean that the Numidians skirmish with them," said Paullus. + +That was all, and the two soldiers turned to their task. + +The slingers' bullets fell no longer, or only scattering ones, dropping +from above, told that these hornets had fallen back and sought refuge +behind their lines; but the roar of battle rolled furiously from the +front. + +"It is the standards that oppose at last," commented Paullus. "The +ranks are not too close--yet. Let us go forward." + +Servilius protested, but the other waved him back. + +"Here is _your_ place who command, my Servilius," said the consul; and +a smile, sad rather than bitter, lit up the harsh lines of his face. +"It is I, having no command, who can justly ply the sword." + +Sergius followed, and in a few moments the increasing pandemonium told +that the front was not far ahead. The dust filled their eyes, and they +could see nothing beyond; but the signs were for the veteran to read. +Soon there was no more headway to be made through the dense mass; the +corpses of the slain were thick beneath their feet, half-naked Gauls +and Spaniards in white and purple mingled with the dead of the legions, +and still the column pushed forward and still the slain lay closer. + +"They give ground. We are driving in their centre," gasped Sergius. + +Paullus had been frowning grimly, but now he turned to Marcus Decius +and showed his wolfish teeth in his old-time smile. + +"What do you say, decurion?" he asked. + +"We drive them, surely; but--" + +"Yes, truly, _but_--do you hear those cries on the flank? We drive +their Iberians, their Celts; it is the Africans that let us plunge on +like one of Varro's stupid bulls: then they put the sword in our side. +Could you fight now? I tell you we are already driven within the +rails. If the gods keep Hasdrubal slaying my runaways, there may be +hope; if he be a general, there is none." + +And still the column's headway seemed hardly checked, though the cries +and the clashing of arms resounded, now, from both flanks as well as +from the front, while, in the depths of its vitals, men were crushed +together till they could scarce breathe. A rumour, too, like those Pan +sends to dismay soldiers, ran quickly from heart to heart, rather than +from lip to lip. It was that Hasdrubal had circled the rear and, +falling upon the allied cavalry, had scattered the left wing as he had +the right; that the Numidians pursued and slaughtered: but where now +were the cavalry of Gaul and Spain, the winners of two victories? A +sullen roar from the far distant rear seemed to answer; but the +language was one that few could read--few of that host. Oh! for an +hour of the veterans that slumbered on the shores of Trebia and +Trasimenus! Oh! for an hour of Fabius, who lingered at Rome, powerless +and discredited. Who were these that wore the armour, that wielded the +ponderous javelins of Rome's legions? From under the bronze helmets +gorgeously fierce with their great crests peered eyes--stupid, +wondering eyes dazed by the uproar, blinded by the dust; eyes wherein, +while as yet there was little of fear, still less was there of the +knowledge of danger to be met and overcome; eyes that had but lately +watched sheep upon the Alban hills, eyes that were used only to the +flour dust when their owners kneaded dough behind the Forum. + +Ahead, around, the standards were tossing as if upon the billows of an +angry sea. Was that a silver horse's head that flashed far to the +right? + +"Look!" cried Sergius, striking Decius with his elbow. + +"You can see better now," muttered the veteran. "The flour is bread, +and the bread of battle is mire kneaded of dust and blood." + +The eyes of Paullus were turned upward in strange prayer. + +"Grant me not, O Jupiter, my life this day!" + +It needed no eye of veteran to read the sentence that was writ. +Driven, at last, within the rails, as went the saying, there was no +room in all that weltering mass to use the sword, much less the pilum. +On every side the barbarians of Africa, of Spain, of Gaul raged and +slew--for even advance now was checked, and the Celts had turned and +lashed the front with their great swords that rose and fell, crimson to +the hilt, crimson to the shoulder, crimson to every inch of their +wielders' huge bodies. The Spaniards, too, were stabbing fast and +furiously, while all along both flanks the African squares, between +which the weight of the column had forced its narrow length, thrust +with their long sarissas and rained their pila upon the doomed monster +in their midst: a war elephant, wounded to the death, with sides hung +with javelins and streaming with blood, rocking and trumpeting in +helpless agony. + +Sergius watched the dull, hopeless look deepening in the eyes of the +young soldiers. They reminded him of the beeves in the shambles of the +elder Varro. Even the voice of Pan could not wake such men. Were they +not there to die for the traditions of Rome? It was true that every +path leading to Pan's country bristled with spears, but only a few +could fully know this, and these awaited their turn with the rest. + +The press seemed to loosen somewhat. Perhaps the assailants had drawn +back to gain breath for a final onslaught; but, instinctively, the +staggering lines of the Roman column opened out into the space +afforded, and its four faces writhed forward bravely, pitifully. It +was then that Sergius saw the consul for the last time. He had turned +back from where he had forced his way to the head of the column; his +arms were battered and blood-stained, and he reeled painfully in his +saddle, for Paullus had mounted again, that he might the better be seen +by the legionaries. His wandering eyes took in every detail of their +hopeless plight; the last sparks of fire seemed to die out in him, and +his head drooped upon his chest. Then, slowly, he dismounted, having +ordered his horse to kneel, and the beast, unable to rise again, rolled +over on its side. Paullus watched it with almost an expression of +pity, and then dragged himself to a flat rock and sat down. + +Decius had sought to aid him, but the other thrust him rudely back. +"It is only the smaller bone," he said. "One of their accursed +stingers hit me." + +At that moment a rider covered with foam and dust and blood dashed up +to the group and, reining his steaming animal to its haunches, leaped +to the ground. + +Paullus raised his eyes. + +"It is time for you to escape, Cneius Lentulus," he said. "You have a +horse." + +"It is for you, my father; that this day be not further darkened by the +death of a consul. My horse is good, and there are still gaps between +their squadrons. Ride to the east--" + +"And you?" + +"I am but a tribune." + +"And a young man, my Cneius. Where is Varro?" + +"Fled." + +"And the pro-consuls?" + +"Both fallen." + +"And you would have it said, my Cneius, that the Republic degenerates? +that not one of this year's consuls dares die with his men, while both +of last year's were Romans? Truly, it would be a much darker day +should I escape with Varro than if I die with Regulus and Servilius; +besides, I have no humour for further charges and trials, in order that +the rabble may vindicate their favourite butcher. But do you go, +Cneius, and tell them that you have seen me sitting in my colleague's +shambles." + +There were tears in Lentulus' eyes, and he still strove to persuade his +general to accept the horse, but, at that moment, new shoutings and +clashing of arms announced what must prove the final attack. + +"They come again, my father," said Decius calmly. + +The roar of battle swelled up, all about the doomed column. In front +and flanks, Africans, Gauls, and Spaniards charged in unbroken lines, +and soon forced the deploying but weakened maniples back into their +weltering mass; in the rear, the attack was less continuous, for +Hasdrubal's horsemen were exhausted with slaying, and he hurled them in +alternate squadrons, now on this point, now on that, wherever the Roman +line showed relics of strength or firmness. So the front worked back, +driven by sheer weight in the direction where the pressure was least. + +Paullus still sat, with drooping head, faint with fatigue and loss of +blood, while Decius, Sergius, and Lentulus stood by him, helplessly +awaiting the end. A rush of fugitives swept by and almost overwhelmed +the wounded man; but Decius passed his arm around him, and the press +slackened. + +"It is time for you to mount and ride, Cneius Lentulus;" and the consul +raised his head again, while the old-time spirit of command flashed in +his eyes. "You shall be my envoy to the fathers. Bid them fortify and +garrison the city; go--" + +A new rush broke in upon his words,--a rush, in which the whole front +was borne back a spear's length beyond them. Sergius was thrown down, +but some one raised him, dazed and stunned, and seemed to bear him +along. A moment, and he found himself standing once more upon his +feet. Cneius Lentulus and his horse were gone; Paullus and Marcus +Decius were left alone far beyond--no, not alone. He saw the tunics of +the Iberians, now all as purple as their borders, thronging around; he +saw his general and his comrade give their throats to the sharp, +slender swords; and then he saw, far ahead, amid the Carthaginian +syntagmata, a swarthy, smiling face with crisp, curling beard; he saw +the brown-bronze corselet rich with gold, the meteor helmet with +ostrich plumes floating between its horns, the snowy mantle bordered +with Tyrian purple; and he saw the white head of the horse whose feet +needed now no dye of art to stain them vermilion. All the fury of +battle, all the madness of revenge overwhelmed him in an instant; +despair was gone, thoughts of past and future were swept away by the +surge of one overmastering idea: he must reach that man and kill him. +He looked around at the scattered, reeling maniples. A standard bearer +was lying at his feet, striving with his remnant of strength to wrench +the silver eagle from its staff, that he might hide it under his cloak; +but the death rattle came too quickly. Sergius picked up the standard. + +"Come," he said, "there is the enemy." And then, without a glance to +note whether his appeal was regarded, he rushed blindly forward. + +It was a discipline inspired by tradition rather than taught by drills +and punishments that came to the Roman recruit, and now it played its +part. These peasants, these artisans whose eyes had seen naught save +unaccustomed horrors through all the day, turned at once to answer the +summons of the eagle. Sergius heard the feeble shout of battle that +rose behind him, heard the scattered clanging of sword and shield, and +when he struck the long pikes of the first square, it was with the +force of half a dozen broken maniples welded into a solid mass. + +Still the sarissas held firm. Perhaps two lines went down, but the +pila rained their slant courses from the rear; the feeble rush was +stopped, and the legionaries struggled helplessly upon the spears. +Sergius saw nothing but the dark, bearded face among the +squares--scarcely nearer than before. Had he not read in a little book +written by one, Xenophon, a Greek, and purchased, at great cost, at the +shop of Milo, the bookseller in the Argiletum, how Oriental armies won +or lost by the life or death of their leaders? He would kill Hannibal! +Would to the gods that Paullus had fallen in the Cinctus Gabinus! +Paullus, too much of an infidel to think of such old-time immolation; +but there was yet one last appeal. + +Seizing the tough staff of the standard almost at the end, he whirled +it around his head and let it go at full swing; the silver eagle +flashed in the light of the setting sun, as it described great arcs, +and plunged down amid the hostile ranks; a hoarse cry went up: the very +deity of the legion was amid its foes! no Roman so untried as not to +hear its call. The short swords hacked and stabbed among the spears; +the first square swayed and rocked, shivered into fragments, and, +hurled back upon the second, bore it, too, down in the mingled rush of +pursuers and pursued. On every side of the dwindling band of +assailants, front, flanks, and rear, the pikes dipped and plunged, the +Gallic swords hissed through the air, the Spaniards ravened and +stabbed; but, to the Romans, flanks and rear were nothing: it was the +front, the Libyans, the lost eagle. + +And now, at last, it was won; the advance had been checked by the +closer welding of the syntagmata, half his men were down; but Sergius, +still unhurt, had stooped and raised the standard, kissing its crimson +beak and wings. Then he looked up. + +Half the space between himself and the bearded horseman had vanished, +and the latter was no longer talking carelessly with those about. His +steady gaze was fixed upon the young Roman, as if studying the exact +measure of strength that remained to him. There was nothing else for +it. Again the great staff described great circles through the air, and +again the crimson eagle soared and stooped, and the white stallion +reared and snorted, as it struck the earth before him; again the +shattered fragment of an army hurled itself, wounded and weary and +bleeding, among the ever thickening spears; yes, and forced its way a +quarter, half the remaining distance, until Sergius, whose eyes had +never for a moment forsaken those of the Carthaginian, saw them grow +troubled, saw the black, bushy brows draw together. Then his enemy +turned and spoke a few hurried words to an attendant, gesticulating +freely, until the man whirled his horse about and drove back through +the throng. When Sergius looked into the face of the general again, it +wore a disdainful smile--the smile of a Zeus that watches the sons of +Aloeus pile mountain on mountain in the vain effort to storm Olympus. +Again Hannibal was careless and unconcerned; again he laughed and joked +gayly with his attendants; his soldier's eye had set the limit of +Rome's last paroxysm, and it fell short of the spot where he sat--not +by much, but enough. All that remained was for the arrows of Apollo to +do their work, and now he had set these to the string. + +Wearily and yet more wearily the wolves bit and tore their way; then +they came staggering to a stand, three spear lengths from the lost +eagle, and then the pressure behind seemed to slacken, and the serried +spears in front bore them slowly backward. + +All was over. Sergius' eyes, dim and bloodshot, wandered, at last, +from the contemptuous smile that had held them, and rested upon the +score of men, for the most part wounded, that remained about him. For +an instant the spears and swords ceased their work, and the dense mass +of lowering faces that surrounded the last of the legions rolled back. +Lanes appeared between the syntagmata; a chorus of wild cries swelled +up--swept nearer, and the furious riders of the desert came galloping +through every interspace. To them had been granted, for a mark of +honour, the ending of the battle. It was only a single rush, a +brandishing and plunging of javelins retained in grasp, a little more +blood spattered upon the horses' necks and bellies. No legionary was +standing when the tempest had gone by, and there, among his men, with +face turned from the red earth to the reddening sky, lay Lucius Sergius +Fidenas, in slumber fitting for a Roman patrician when the black day of +Cannae was done. + + + + +PART II. + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE QUEEN OF THE WAYS. + +There was much bustle and confusion throughout the little inn at +Sinuessa. August was just closing, and the midday summer sun beat down +too fiercely to permit of comfortable travel save toward morning or +night. The inn-keeper had hurried out and stood in the roadway, bowing +and wreathing his face with smiles of welcome, while, behind him, were +grouped his servants, each bearing some implement of his or her +calling--a muster well calculated to impress the wayfarer with the +assurance of comfort and good cheer. + +The occasion of all this demonstration was a party that had halted, +apparently for refreshment and the customary traveller's siesta; a +rheda or four-wheeled travelling carriage, closely covered and drawn by +three powerful horses yoked abreast. Two armed outriders, one +apparently a freedman and the other a slave, made up the company, the +former of whom, a stout, elderly man with gray hair and beard, had +reined in his horse before the obsequious host, while the other +remained by the carriage wheel, as if to aid the driver in guarding the +rheda's occupants from intrusion. + +The innkeeper, short and fat, was breathing hard from the haste in +which he had sallied out, but his words came volubly:-- + +"Let the gentlemen alight and enter--or, if they be ladies, so much the +better. They shall make trial of the best inn along the whole length +of the Queen of Ways. Such couches as they have never seen, save, +doubtless, in their magnificent homes, fit for the gods to lie +upon!--such dishes!--such cooking! guinea-hens fed and fattened under +my own eye, mullet fresh from the water with all greens of the season, +and such wine as only the Massic Mount can grow--" + +Here, however, he paused to take breath, and the freedman succeeded in +interrupting the flow of words. + +"By the gods! will you be silent?" he said. "Perhaps we shall try your +fare, if you do not take up the whole day in telling us about it. +First, however, it is necessary for us to learn certain things. How +many miles is it to Capua?" + +The innkeeper's face took on a grieved look in place of the beaming +smile of a moment since, but he answered promptly and humbly:-- + +"The matter of twenty-five miles, my master." + +"At what hour do they close the gates?" + +The innkeeper glanced back at the group of domestics with a frightened +expression. + +"That is a military question," he said. "How can I answer it in these +times? It is dangerous to talk about such things." + +"Not dangerous for you," insisted the other, rather scornfully. "Since +you Campanians have become pulse-eaters, not the wildest Numidian would +dare disturb you. The cruel one is very tender of you all--_now_; but +wait till Rome shall fall, then you will know what his tenderness is +worth--when you are all busy grinding corn for Carthage--" + +"By all the gods! speak lower--if you must say such words," whispered +the innkeeper, white with terror. "If one of my servants should betray +me! Like enough the gate is closed at all times. It is said that +Hannibal enters the town to-night." + +"Hannibal in Capua to-night!" came a voice from the rheda--a woman's +voice, softly and delicately modulated, yet deep and rich in its tones. +At the same moment the curtains were drawn aside, and she looked out, +beckoning imperiously to the would-be host. "Come near, my good man, I +wish to speak with you more closely." + +The innkeeper stood as one dazed, with open mouth and bulging eyes. He +had looked upon great and beautiful ladies before, for many such +travelled by the Appian Way, but the beauty and the nobility of this +face seemed to him more than mortal. With all the grace, all the +freshness, all the radiant charm of the girl Marcia, were now joined +the calm and deep-eyed crown of womanhood. The perfect lines that +could so perfectly respond to playful or tender emotions were still +unmarred, and yet sorrow that had left no other trace had endowed them +with new possibilities of devotion and high resolve. + +"Come," repeated Marcia, and the little inn-keeper trotted up to the +rheda and stood watching her with an expression of canine wonder and +subservience in his big, dull eyes. + +"Did I not hear you say that Hannibal was to be in Capua to-night? +Have these false Campanians indeed carried out the treachery rumoured +of them?" + +The man had forgotten all his fears of a few moments since, nor did the +slur upon his race rouse aught of indignation. Held fast under the +spell of the dark eyes before him, he made haste to answer:-- + +"The rumour, madam, that a traveller left with me some hours since is +that Marius Blossius, praetor of Campania, has led all Capua out to +meet Hannibal, who is to feast to-night at the house of the Ninii +Celeres, Stenius and Pacuvius--" + +"But how was this done?" she interrupted. "It was said at Rome that +some few evil spirits, like Vibius Virrius and Pacuvius Calavius, were +ill-disposed, but surely the senators of Capua are faithful?" + +"I do not know as to that," said the fellow, with the stubborn dulness +of a peasant; "but I know it is hard to see your property and goods +destroyed and to hold fast to allies who do not protect you--and a +Roman garrison at Casilinum all the time. They say this African is +kind to his friends, and then, too, he sent home my son without ransom +when the young man was prisoner in the north--some battle by some lake +that I forget the name of--" + +"Such talk is well enough for the poor-spirited rabble," cried Marcia, +impetuously; "but was there none of noble blood in the city? None who +could compel duty?" + +A look of cunning crossed his face as he answered:-- + +"Pacuvius Calavius took care of that. He cooped up the senate in the +senate-house, by telling them the people sought their lives. Then he +went out and spoke against them to that same people, and offered to +surrender them for death, one by one; and then, when they had given up +hope, he made a clever turn and persuaded us to forego their just +punishment. So it is said in Capua that Pacuvius Calavius bought the +senators for his slaves, and not one but runs to do his bidding. +Senators, you see, do not like the rods and axe any better than humbler +people like the sword and the torch." + +Marcia eyed him with disgust. Then her brow cleared. "What could be +expected from such a man," she thought. "Surely not exalted patriotism +or high ideals--especially when the class question had been brought +into play against public faith and public honour. Mere stupidity would +yoke him to the side that seemed to promise the most immediate +exemptions or rewards. It was possible, though, that the situation +might not be as bad as it was painted; that there might still be +faithful men in the second city of Italy--men who, while at present +held down by the skilful plotting of their enemies or the hopelessness +of open resistance, were yet waiting, vigilant to seize upon the first +promising opportunity to recover the lost ground. On the other hand, +innkeepers were apt to be a well-informed class, as to public +happenings, and this man told his tale with parrot-like precision. At +any rate, there was nothing to do but reach Capua as soon as possible; +for, the Carthaginian commander once within the walls, no one could +tell what precautions and scrutiny might be established at the gates." + +She turned to the freedman. + +"There is no time for resting and refreshment, Ligurius. We must not +lose the chance of entering the city before nightfall;" and to the man +who rode at the wheel: "Come, Caipor. A little weariness will not hurt +us." + +The driver's whip curled about the horses' flanks, and they started +forward; but the disappointed innkeeper laid hold of one of the poles +that supported the covering of the rheda and gasped and sputtered as he +ran:-- + +"What now! Would you die of the heat? Am I to lose my custom because +I am good-natured and tell the news?" + +Caipor turned in his seat and raised the thong used to urge on his +animal; but Marcia, hearing the clamour, thrust the curtain aside again +and, motioning the slave to restrain himself, threw several denarii to +her would-be host. At the same moment, the horses suddenly quickened +their gait, and the pursuer, keeping his hold, was jerked flat upon his +face. + +"Be cautious!" shouted Caipor. "There is silver in the dust you are +swallowing," and they hurried on, unable to distinguish whether the +half-choked ejaculations that followed them were thanks or curses. + +There was a short silence punctuated by the cracking of the whip, the +clatter of hoofs, and the crunching of wheels along the pavement; then +the curtains once more parted slightly, and Caipor, watchful to serve, +saw Marcia's beckoning hand and drew closer to the rheda. + +"Bend down," she said, and, as he obeyed, she whispered:-- + +"You were my brother's servant, Caipor, and you bear his name. Will +you help me to avenge him?" + +The slave's eyes flashed, and he straightened himself on his horse. +Then he lowered his head to hear more. + +"Ligurius," she continued, "will be brave and faithful to my family in +all things. I want one who will be faithful to what is greater and to +what is less--to Rome and to me. I seek safety for the Republic; and I +seek revenge for those who are dead. Will you help me when Ligurius +halts?" + +"The cross itself will not daunt me," he said simply. "Whatever you +shall do, lady, I will be faithful to the death." + +"For me, perhaps, to the death, Caipor," she answered; "but for you, if +the gods favour me, to life and to freedom." + +His cheek flushed with the rich blood of his Samnite ancestors, and, as +Ligurius glanced back from his post at the head of the party, the young +man made his horse bound forward, lest his attitude and perturbation +might bring some suspicion of a secret conference to the mind of the +old freedman. + +So they descended within the hemicycle of hills. The heights of Mount +Tifata began to fall away on the left, the rough, precipitous line of +crags, sweeping around toward the east, seemed to dwindle into the +distance, even as they drew nearer, while the low jumble of Neapolitan +hills, beyond which towered Vesuvius with its fluttering pennon of +vapour, rose higher and higher upon the southern horizon. A turn of +the road, a temporary makeshift, led them around Casilinum, whose +little garrison lay close, nor opened their gates to friend or foe. +There, at last, in the midst of the level plain that stretched down to +the sea, lay Capua, gleaming white and radiant beneath the brush of the +now descending sun. + +Gradually the great sweep of city walls grew lowering and massive. It +still lacked an hour of sunset, and the travellers had not urged +themselves unduly through the midday course. The foam, yellowed and +darkened by dust, had dried upon the horses' flanks save only where the +chafing of the harness kept it fresh and white. Marcia leaned far out +of the rheda and gazed eagerly at the nearing town, Caipor seemed +scarcely able to restrain his eagerness to dash forward, while Ligurius +shaded his eyes with his hand and viewed the spectacle like a general +counting the power of his approaching foe. Even at this distance they +saw, or began to imagine they saw, some indescribable change,--not a +flurry of motion or excitement,--they were too far away to note that, +had such been present. It was as though above, around every tower and +battlement hung an atmosphere of hostility and defiance; yet this was +the friend of Rome through days of weal and days of woe,--the second +city of Italy. + +Nearer and nearer they drew. The horses threw their heads in the air, +and, presaging rest and provender, quickened their pace, without +urging. Suddenly an exclamation burst from the lips of Ligurius. + +"Look!" he cried. "It is true. They are indeed here." Marcia and +Caipor strove to follow his hand. "My northern eyes, old though they +be, are better than yours of the south. Do you not see them--one, two, +three! Gods! They are thick on the walls." + +"What? in the name of Jove!" exclaimed Marcia, impatiently, and then +Caipor started. + +"I see! I see now," he cried. "Ah! mistress, they are the standards +of Carthage; the horses' heads, yellow, with red manes. Gods, how they +glitter! Gold and blood--gold and blood!" + +"Drive on," said Marcia, for they had all drawn rein, half +unconsciously, and she lay back, behind the curtains of the rheda. + + + + +II. + +THE GATE. + +A harsh cry of command or warning rang out ahead, and the rheda stopped +short with a jolt. Ligurius had thrown his horse upon his haunches and +then backed him so as to take post at that side of the vehicle +unprotected by Caipor; but, a moment later, the rush of a dozen tall +figures thrust them both away, the curtains were torn aside, and Marcia +looked out into savage faces and great, staring, blue eyes. Three or +four overlapping circlets of iron just above the hips seemed the limit +of these men's defensive armour, and the skin of some animal was thrown +about the brawny shoulders of such as had not replaced their barbaric +mantles with the Roman military cloak; the hair of each, black or red, +but always long and indescribably filthy, was caught up in a knot at +the top of the head, whence it streamed away, loose or matted, like the +tail of an unkempt horse; their feet were bare, and their legs were +covered by linen breeches bound close with leathern thongs. It needed +not the great broad-swords slung about their shoulders to tell them for +Hannibal's Gauls--creatures scarcely half human, whose name brought +terror to the Roman maiden of the days of Cannae, as the sight of them +had carried death or slavery to her less-favoured sister of the blacker +days of the Allia. + +But Marcia showed little of womanish weakness. To the jargon of a +dozen voices--a jargon that sounded like the yelping and barking of a +pack of dogs--she opposed a cold and dignified silence. A dozen hands +reached out to touch her, as they would touch something strange and +admirable; but she drew back, and the rude hands and staring, blue eyes +fell before the flash of her indignation. + +At that instant, a man strode forward, hurling the soldiers from his +path to right and left, or striking them fiercely with his staff. +Taller by almost half a head than the others, his richer vesture and +arms, but, above all, the gold collar about his neck and the gold +bracelets upon his arms, marked the chief. Standing by the rheda, he +met Marcia's look of proud defiance, for a moment; then his eyes +shifted and seemed to wander; but, cloaking with martial sternness the +embarrassment of the barbarian, he spoke in Gallic:-- + +"Who are you?" + +Unable to understand the question, much less to answer it, she turned +away and ignored both the man and his words. Again the look of +indecision and embarrassment returned to his face; but, glancing round, +he saw Ligurius struggling in the hands of his captors, and caught some +words of Gallic in his half-throttled remonstrances. + +"Bring him," he said shortly, with a motion of his staff, and the +freedman, who had been roughly pulled from his horse, was thrust +forward, his clothes hanging in tatters, and his face bruised and +bleeding from his efforts to break loose and guard his mistress from +intrusion or insult. + +"Who is _she_, and who are you?" asked the chief, sternly; for his +eyes, now that they looked into those of a man and an inferior, had +regained all their wild fierceness. + +Ligurius hesitated, partly from lack of wind and partly from a doubt as +to how much or what it would be wise to tell. + +"Speak!" cried the other, impatiently. + +Marcia threw aside the curtains which had been allowed to fall back in +their place, and leaned out. The scene looked critical; the Gaul's +face was working with nervous irritation, while his followers, scarcely +recovered from his sudden onslaught, stood around in a ring, some +fingering their swords, and with expressions whose wonder and stupidity +seemed fast giving place to the lust of blood and plunder. Caipor had +been knocked senseless at the beginning, and the driver was in the +hands of several soldiers. + +Ligurius looked inquiringly at his mistress. + +"He asks who we are," he said. "What shall I say?" + +"Ah! you plot to deceive me," cried the Gaul, losing control of his +temper, and, before Marcia could answer, he struck the freedman down +with his staff. One of his followers shifted his sword belt, and, half +drawing the great weapon, stepped forward; but Marcia had sprung from +the rheda, and stood, with clenched hands and flashing eyes, above her +prostrate attendant. + +"Bandits! Murderers!" she cried. "Does your general permit you to rob +and kill travellers that seek to enter a friendly city?" + +Understanding the act rather than the words, the soldier halted, and +the chief's eyes began again to shift nervously; but soon an expression +of mingled lust and cunning came into them. + +"You are beautiful," he said. "You shall not die, you shall dwell in +my hut." + +Marcia shuddered at the glance and change of tone. He reached out his +arms, tattooed in blue designs, and made as if to advance. She drew a +dagger from her girdle. Infuriated by the sight of what he took to be +a hostile weapon, the barbarian's sword was out in an instant. Then he +perceived that the dagger was directed not at his breast, but at the +woman's. The point of the great sword, already half raised, dropped +slowly to the ground, and a new look of embarrassed amazement took the +place of the momentary glare of savage fury. + +How it would have ended never transpired, for a commotion at the gate +attracted the attention of all. A small detachment of soldiers was +advancing, at a leisurely pace, headed by a young officer whose arms +blazed with gold and silver. No Hannibalian veterans these. As they +came near, even Marcia could note the sleek, soft look of the men, and +their listless, muscleless gait; while their leader's hair and person +literally reeked with perfumes. His eyes turned slowly from the huge +Gaul to the woman; then a flash of animation lent them light. + +"How is this?" he asked. "Why this tumult? Who are these people?" + +The Gaul shook his head defiantly, as if ignorant of the speech of his +interrogator, while his followers began to nudge each other, pointing +out the round limbs and fresh complexions of the Capuans, and laughing +scornfully. + +The young officer flushed, and, turning to Marcia, repeated the +question. + +"I am a Roman. Do you not understand my tongue?" she said. + +He glanced fearfully at the Gauls. Then, reassured by their evident +failure to comprehend, he regained his assurance and answered:-- + +"Surely, lady, an educated Capuan cannot fail to understand all +languages, civilized or barbarous. I speak the Greek, the Roman--all; +only permit me to beg you to be less frank in naming your city: 'Roman' +is a dangerous word to use here. What has led one so beautiful and so +accomplished to run the risk of such a journey? Do you not know that +Hannibal and his men are in Capua? That is why these beasts have been +able to disturb you; but fear not," he continued, as she was about to +speak, "_I_ also am here to protect you," and he accompanied the words, +with a glance that left the nature of the protection offered more than +equivocal. + +Suppressing her mingled feelings of disgust and amusement, Marcia +answered haughtily:-- + +"May Jove favour you for your offer; but has it come that the expected +guest of Pacuvius Calavius needs protection at the gate of Capua?" + +Amazement and deference were at once apparent in his changed manner. + +"Ah!" he said slowly, as if trying to gather his wits; "that is +different--very different. It is a double regret that these vermin +have troubled you; but you are safe now." + +Marcia found herself wondering whether he would allude to the Gauls so +scornfully had they been able to understand his words. + +The Capuan turned to the Gallic chief, who, together with his +followers, had drawn nearer. + +"Make way!" he cried. "Loose the slave that drives." Then to his own +men, "Raise up the two that are hurt;" and to Marcia, "And you, lady; +will it please you to return to your carriage?" + +But the Gauls, although evidently understanding the nature of his +orders, showed no disposition to obey them. On the contrary, at a few +words from their chief, they pushed closer yet, and some of them even +began to jostle the soldiers of the Capuan guard. A light blow or a +sharp word bade fair to precipitate a conflict that, despite the +numerical equality, could hardly be doubtful in its outcome, when a +sharp, commanding voice rang out behind. + +All swung around, as if to meet a blow, and the press opened. A rider, +glittering in arms of simple but rich design, and mounted upon a black +horse, was advancing from the gate. Two Spaniards, who rode several +spear lengths behind him, were his sole escort; but, alone or at the +head of a legion, it was all the same: no eye of Gaul or Capuan saw +aught but the one horseman; and yet it was not easy to tell wherein the +force lay. He was a young man, probably twenty--possibly twenty-five, +for life advanced quickly under the sun of Africa. His figure was +slender and boyish, his face thinly bearded, a lack which was +accentuated by the beard being divided into two points. Yes, now they, +saw; it was his eyes that had dispelled the boast and swagger of the +Gaul, the superciliousness of the Capuan, and whatever of brawling +boldness had been in either. These eyes were black and large and +flashing with courage and energy and the pride of noble birth. No +detail of the scene seemed to escape their first glance, and he asked +no question, as he rode into the crowd. + +"Ardix," he said, addressing the Gaul in his own tongue, "back to your +gate! and you," turning to the Capuan officer and changing his language +with ready ease, "it would be wise for you to consider the unwisdom of +quarrelling with our veterans." + +There was just enough of contempt in the inference of the last word to +check the flow of explanation and complaint that was rising to the lips +of the young exquisite. The newcomer had turned his back. The Capuan +saw his followers slinking away with Ardix and his Gauls. It was hard +to lose a chance of talking with a great man, and surely a few of the +words he could choose and speak so well would compel the Carthaginian +to value him at his worth. Still, there was something that impressed +upon him the unwisdom of speech, and, after a moment of embarrassed +indecision, he turned and strode away after the rest, seeking to +conceal the humiliation of his retreat by the swagger of his gait and +the fierceness of his expression--which there was no one to see. + +While this little comedy was passing, he, whose advent had been its +occasion, was regarding Marcia fixedly; but he now looked into eyes +that neither quailed nor wandered before his own. At last he spoke, +and in Latin:-- + +"I am Mago, the son of Hamilcar. What brings a Roman woman to Capua in +these days?" + +This youth, then, was the famous brother of Hannibal; the commander of +the ambush at the Trebia. His voice was cold, harsh, and metallic, and +in his eyes there was none of the rude lust of the Gaul or the polished +licentiousness of the Capuan. They burned only with the fires that +light the souls of patriots and leaders of men. + +"I come," said Marcia, slowly, "for several reasons, and believing that +Carthage does not make war upon women." + +The eyes lost nothing of their cold scrutiny at the implied compliment +or the covert reproach. + +"And what reasons?" he asked sharply. + +"For the one," replied Marcia, and she was conscious of an effort in +holding her voice to its steady inflection; "that my house is bound in +hospitality to that of Pacuvius Calavius--" + +Mago's brow cleared for an instant. + +"Our friend," he said. "He is married to one of your Claudians." Then +it darkened again as he continued: "Well, and you seek him for what? +To tempt him back to Rome?" + +"I seek him," said Marcia, boldly, "because I am wise. Have I not seen +the narrowing of Rome's resources? the quarrels of the factions? I +have come from there, and I tell you that, if Hannibal have patience +until the spring, it is Rome that will beg him to take her. What part +has a woman with a man who cannot protect himself! Let her look for a +new defender, if she be wise." + +An odd look had come into the Carthaginian's face as she spoke, a look +more scornful but less threatening. + +"You speak true woman's philosophy," he said. "That is the philosophy +of these times. I am convinced that there _were_ days, and women--but +pah! now it is only glory that is worthy to be a man's bride. Come, I +will lead you to the house of Calavius." + +Ligurius had recovered sufficiently to remount his horse, while Mago's +attendants had laid the still senseless Caipor in the rheda to which +their master now assisted Marcia. Then he rode on, by the wheel of the +carriage. + +As for the daughter of Torquatus, not even the consciousness of her +purpose, and of the high and bitter motives that had shaped it, could +drive the touch of shame from her cheeks. It galled her when she +considered how she must appear to this man--a mere youth and a +Carthaginian, and it galled her the more that she should care for his +opinion. That she had inspired only his contempt, was quite evident; +and she, whose glances had always gone straight as the arrows of Love +to the hearts of men, now found herself more annoyed by the +indifference of an enemy than she had been by the dangers from which he +had rescued her. She was not certain whether it was with a desire to +gain in his sight, or only in the pursuance of her plans, that she +spoke again. + +"Does my lord think worse of me for what I have said?" + +"I thought you a woman; now I know you for one," he replied, carelessly. + +"Ah! but my lord did not ask as to my other reasons for seeking the +camp of Carthage." + +"That is a matter for Calavius to look to. If you come as an enemy--so +much the worse for him." + +"And if I come as a woman who would escape a hated marriage--to seek a +lover who has won her heart afar off?--" + +"Calavius?" laughed Mago, the boy in him suddenly flashing out. "They +say even the old men here are hunters of women. Have a care of the +Claudian, though. She may bite." + +Marcia flushed crimson. Mago was not an easy subject for female +influence. Besides, she began to realize that the respect she could +not help feeling for the attitude of the young soldier might hamper +whatever efforts she could put forth to ensnare and control him. His +closeness to Hannibal, however, would make his conquest as advantageous +as it seemed difficult, and it was some such thought as this that +prompted her next words. + +"Happy the leader and brother that has so single and so firm a +counsellor!" + +She spoke as if half unconsciously, but Mago shot a sharp glance +straight into her eyes. Then he answered, carelessly:-- + +"My brother is the captain-general of Carthage, and I am only a young +soldier. Doubtless he is wise to ignore my opinions; and yet, had he +harkened to Maharbal and myself at the close of the day of Cannae--had +he let us press on with the cavalry and followed, with such speed as +the gods could grant,--I am convinced that within five days he had +supped in the Capitol." + +His tone changed, as he spoke, to one of fierce enthusiasm, and his +listener shuddered. Then, sinking his voice, he went on, as if +speaking to himself:-- + +"Even now--even now--before the winter closes in, there might be a +chance. Later, they will recover strength and courage, and we--we +shall become--Capuans." + +Marcia hid her agitation behind the curtains of the rheda. She was +terrified by his vehemence and by the justice of his reasoning. Here +was the man whose whole influence would be pitted against the purpose +of her journey; and her woman's intuition told her that no argument or +allurement could turn his mind. It was with a feeling of relief that +the halting of the vehicle before the porch of a stately house checked +the unwise retort that trembled on her lips. Later, she could oppose +him better than if, yielding now to an impulse to controvert his views, +she had aroused suspicion. + + + + +III. + +PACUVIUS CALAVIUS. + +The house of Pacuvius Calavius was well situated, near the centre of +the town, accessible to the Forum, and upon a street of considerable +width. The porch of the ostium was supported by four columns +delicately fluted and painted, the lower half in dull crimson, the +upper in ochre. A porter, in costume much richer than those worn by +most free Romans, lounged on a stool set upon the mosaic pavement, and +roused himself lazily to shuffle down and inquire why the rheda had +halted before his door. + +"Ah! It was a lady"--and he smirked with insolent meaning--"who +desired to see his master?" He threw out his hands with a deprecatory +gesture. "The gods were, in truth, very friendly to Pacuvius Calavius; +but then he was very old--a complaint which few could guard against. +Oh!--" + +Mago had signalled to one of his horsemen, and the soldier's lash +whistled and wound itself about the slave's neck. All the fellow's +laziness and insolence vanished, and he fell upon the pavement, +writhing and whimpering. + +"Lash the hound till he does his office," said Mago, quietly; and the +short hand-thong rose again. + +But before it descended a second time, the porter had rolled and +scrambled to his feet, and was rushing to open the door. He vanished +with wonderful speed, and, a moment later, there appeared a man +somewhat above middle age, with a close-curling, white beard, and clad +in a robe so heavily embroidered with gold as to leave the ground +colour a matter of conjecture. With keen eyes that shifted nervously, +he hurried down toward the rheda. Then, noting Mago, and that he was a +Carthaginian of rank, he paused, uncertain, and his salutation savoured +somewhat of over-respect. + +"A lady?" he said hesitatingly;--"a lady who desires to see me?" + +Marcia parted the curtains and leaned out, smiling. The newcomer +stopped short and gasped in astonishment. + +Mago glanced sharply from one to the other, and his lip curled. He +signed to his attendants, and, with an obeisance that had in it +haughtiness rather than courtesy, he rode away. + +Glancing cautiously up and down the street, Calavius approached the +rheda. + +"And is it the lady Marcia who is to honour my house?" he began, in +words that carried more welcome than did the tone. "A dangerous +journey, in these days, and a dangerous destination. Surely you are +welcome--and who was the young man that rode with you? Did he know +anything of your name and birth? I trust you were cautious?--" + +Marcia laughed. + +"Do not fear, father;" Calavius frowned slightly at the venerable +title, and shook out his robe that the odours might permeate the air. +"Do not fear but that I was as cunning as your Campanians. I told him +I was a Roman--wherefore not? For the matter of that, he divined it. +He is Mago, the brother of Hannibal--" + +"And he brought you here?" cried Calavius, trembling now in good +earnest. "Surely it was done to ruin me; but whose plot?--whose plot?" + +"It is not necessary I should be your guest," said Marcia, with +well-feigned indifference. "Doubtless there are inns; but he guided me +here because I asked for your house, imagining that my father's friend +would have a welcome for my father's daughter." + +Calavius instantly recovered his composure. + +"Ah! dear lady," he began, in a voice from which all the tremor had +vanished, "and do you dream for a moment that you should taste of other +hospitality than mine? Will you not descend--nay, I will help you--and +let us enter quickly. These are indeed troublous days, and every door +creaks a warning; troublous days, with each man's hand against his +neighbour, plotting by necessity, often, rather than by preference. +What! your attendants are hurt?" Again his voice shook. "A brawl? +that is bad; but come within. It is there you shall tell me of it all." + +So speaking, he assisted Marcia to descend, and, summoning his +servants, gave the rheda and its guardians into their care. Then he +led the way into his house, carefully fastening the street door behind +them, for the porter evidently had not halted in his flight, short of +the slaves' apartments upstairs. + +Marcia followed, wondering at the magnificence of the decorations. She +passed through passages lighted by hanging-lamps of gold and silver and +bronze; past walls rich with frescoes in black and yellow and red; +panels and pictures such as Caius Fabius Pictor could never have +dreamed when he ornamented the Temple of Safety; frescoes that so far +surpassed the work of Damophilus and Gorgasus upon the walls of Ceres, +as these had surpassed the art of Pictor himself. Then came courts +surrounded by rows of fluted columns, set with fountains that threw +light sprays of scented water over the flowers and the garments of the +passers; then more passages, with paintings of even greater merit and +delicacy of execution, mingled, here and there, with scenes where the +delicacy was of the execution alone, and that brought hot blushes to +her cheek. Amid all, were scattered richly carved pedestals bearing +beautiful statues done in marble or bronze, or great vases, black or +terra-cotta, with intricately composed groups of figures in the +opposite tint. It came like a veritable revelation to one who had +known nothing but the crude art of the Etruscans and the cruder +handicraft of her own people, tempered, as they were, by the taste of +such Greek artists as fell so far short of their native ideals as to be +willing to waste their skill upon barbarians. She had heard of the +wealth and luxury of the Capuans, but it had never entered her mind to +imagine that the luxury of Capua could demand, or the wealth of +Campania purchase, pictures whose distance and proportions were true to +life itself, and statues that seemed veritably to live and breathe. +Her eyes were big with wonder and admiration, when her guide and host +turned sharply to the right and ushered her into a small room that +looked out through a row of slender pillars into a portico beyond, and +thence into a garden that seemed a very forest of small rose trees. +Around the walls ran a shelf upon which were set a number of circular +boxes, while lying upon the table were several bulky rolls of papyrus, +in parchment wrappers stained yellow or purple. + +"My library," said Calavius, in a careless tone, but with a wave of his +arm that showed his pride in its possession. "Three hundred and +eighty-nine works--the best, and of the most excellent authors:--poets, +philosophers, historians, rhetoricians--all that is worth reading. No +man in Capua has a better show of literature--unless, perhaps, it be +Decius Magius," and his voice sank, as if the name had brought him back +to a realization of circumstances. "Here I can read without +disturbance, and here we can talk without fear of interruption or +listening ears. There are slaves always stationed at both ends of the +portico, to insure quiet." + +"And you are the man who has dared to turn Capua over to the enemies of +Rome! Truly, I cannot understand." + +Marcia could not restrain the words, and Calavius flushed. + +"Do not condemn me for timidity," he said quickly. "These are +dangerous seas for a man of mark to steer his craft upon. +Carthaginians and other barbarians are not citizens of Capua--no +refinement--no civilization. Much has happened to disturb me--to +unsettle my nerves. Decius Magius has been parading in the Forum, +defying our friends,--and who with him but my own son, Perolla, casting +discredit on my plans, and danger on himself! It was with the utmost +difficulty I could drag him away--and then, what does the Carthaginian +do but fly into a rage, and demand an audience of the senate, with a +view to punishing Decius. Nothing but my influence and that of Virrius +and the Ninii have persuaded him to forego his purpose for the time; +and that, only, by pleading the joy of this day, and that it should be +given to nothing save festivity and feasting. Truly, my mind misgives +me. Still, they have sworn that no Carthaginian shall have any power +over a Campanian, and--was not that a noise in the portico?" + +He rose and, gliding out to the row of pillars, looked up and down. +Marcia regarded him with contempt and pity. + +"And yet," she said, "it is for this terror and distrust that you have +betrayed Rome. Were there none of our soldiers and citizens in the +town?" + +"Do not speak of it," whispered Calavius, growing even paler;--"a most +frightful misfortune! They were taken in arms, or at their +business--what matters it which?--and confined in the baths for +safe-keeping." + +"And then?" said Marcia, for he paused. + +"And then some evil-disposed persons turned on the vapour." + +"They were killed?" she cried. + +"Not so loud!--not so loud! for the love of all the gods! It was a +mistake, a terrible mistake!" + +"Ah! guest-friend of my father," said Marcia, sadly; "I fear it is a +mistake that Rome will exact a heavy price for. You say truly that it +matters not how they were taken." + +"But I swear it was no will of mine!" he cried, and then, fearing lest +he had committed himself too deeply, he went on. "In fact, lady, they +say too much, who set this revolution at my door; who say that I was +the mover of all. Was it not Vibius Virrius who first suggested it? +Was it not Marius Blossius, the praetor, who led out the people to meet +the Carthaginians?--and see how my son is still with Rome! No, by +Bacchus! there are many here a thousand times more guilty--if it be +guilt, and on whom the rods and axes must fall first if there be +justice under the gods. You can bear witness at Rome to that." + +"There will be rods and axes enough for all," said Marcia, grimly, +filled with horror and disgust for the deeds told of, and with contempt +for this garrulous, timid plotter of treachery and murder. Then, +suddenly, she noted a sinister glitter in his eye, and, at the same +time, remembering her mission, she checked her words and went on, "Rods +and axes enough for all who are so feeble as not to take the +sovereignty of Italy when it lies within their grasp." + +"What--what is that you say?" he said eagerly, and the threat fled from +his face. "The sovereignty of Italy? Ah! it is a great prize! Who +shall deny it to us? Are we not the second city? Have we not allies +the strongest in the world?--a general the greatest? and when all is +over, who so fitting to rule as the first man of the first city?--for +Rome will be no more. Ah! I will deal with them gently, though; I +will conciliate--unless I be opposed too obstinately. You shall tell +them that. Are they meditating surrender? Do they not see that we +must prevail?--but," and his tone changed again to distrust, "I have +forgotten to ask, amid my anxiety about matters of state, why you have +come to Capua--a Roman--at such times?" + +Marcia laughed. She was ready for her part now, and this adversary, at +least, she despised,--perhaps too much, for he was a cunning man, in +his way, and when the matter demanded only chicanery against other +cowards. + +"Ah! my Pacuvius, a politician like _you_ asks me that?" she exclaimed +gayly. "Is it for a woman to remain in a ship buffeted and rocking in +the storm? a ship that must founder soon, if it be but left to itself?" + +"Is that truth?" he asked eagerly, but with a tinge of suspicion in his +voice. + +"Surely, it is truth: as it is truth that I, with many other women, +have gone out to such cities where there are friends of our +houses--cities friendly to the new powers, friends strong enough to +give us shelter and protection. It is my happy fortune to have found a +city and a friend the strongest of all." + +Calavius smiled complacently and stroked his beard. + +"Yes, you have done well," he said slowly. "I am not without interest +with the captain-general of Carthage, and there may be yet greater +things in store for me. I will go now and send female attendants to +you, that you may seek the bath and your room, and have such +refreshment as you desire. I will talk with you again later, but +to-night there is the banquet at the house of the Ninii. Ah! it will +be the greatest feast that Capua has seen--a banquet to Hannibal and +the Carthaginian leaders. Farewell." + +He turned to go, but she rose quickly and laid her hand upon his robe. + +"You have not heard all, yet," she said, casting down her eyes and +speaking in halting phrases. "Do you truly believe that it is _only_ a +woman's fears that have brought me to Capua? You have not questioned +me closely. That is not worthy of your wisdom. It is hard for a woman +to tell all things unless they be drawn from her." + +He stared with eyes full of wonder. + +"What do you mean?" he asked. + +Then, throwing her head to one side, she laughed, so that Sergius +himself would scarcely have known it from the laugh of the +free-hearted, jesting Marcia of other days. + +"Oh, my father, you a Capuan and a man learned in the ways of women! +It is pitiful--this littleness of your knowledge. Come, tell me now, +as to a pedagogue, what is it that leads a woman to all places, through +all dangers?" + +"Surely, my child, it is love," said Calavius, vacantly. Then his face +took on an expression, first of furrowed surprise and then of gratified +vanity, an expression that brought the hot blush to Marcia's cheek, +even while she struggled to restrain her contemptuous mirth. His +manner changed at once to one of insinuating gallantry, which she +hastened to check before he should commit himself. + +"What is it," she went on again, glancing down that he might not see +and read her eyes; "what is it that makes women love men? What, if not +strength and courage? I am a Roman, my father; but Roman men are no +longer fit mates for Roman women. Where but in the camp of Carthage +shall I find one worthy of my beauty? It is there I seek my lover." + +Disappointment lowered on the face of Calavius. He had noted her +beauty, long before she had referred to it; but now he noted it with a +more distinct desire, and the words, "my father," which she had used, +though but a customary term of respect, grated the more harshly upon +his ears. Still, controlling himself, he asked:-- + +"And which man of our allies has the lady Marcia chosen to bless with +the love that is too high for an humble Italian?" + +She looked the siren herself, as she answered:-- + +"Surely, my father would not learn the secret of his daughter!" +Calavius winced. "Believe, only, that he who has been loved at a +distance is noble and powerful. However, if so be that my lord would +learn the truth, let him take her to this banquet. I have heard often +that much liberty is allowed to the women of Capua; why not, then, to +the guest of the noblest of the Capuans?" + +The mind of Calavius had been divided. With the first rebuff to his +rising passion had come the impulse to avail himself of his power and +of the helpless position of his guest to gratify his spite or his +pleasure as she might choose to make it. Then, at the suggestion that +she loved and had come to seek a Carthaginian of rank, he thought of +the disfavour--even peril he might incur by such a course should an +enemy or a slave learn the facts and expose him; and, finally, he fell +into a cunning casting up of the influence he might gain over the +lover, whoever he was, to whom he should be instrumental in +surrendering such perfect beauty. Again he winced at the thought, but +then, what more likely than that her silly, woman's vanity aspired to +the captain-general himself? and he, Pacuvius Calavius, might hope to +be the confidential go-between. What profit and influence might not be +found in such a relation!--so personal, so beneficent! After all, +there were many beautiful women--even among his slaves, and what was +the difference between woman and woman compared to the dream of Italian +sovereignty that hovered before his eyes! He knew well that no wife or +daughter of a Capuan would be present at that banquet--only the most +beautiful of the city's hetairai--but what of that? This girl was a +Roman--an enemy; the claims of hospitality between his people and hers +would be shivered in the coming crash of arms. What mattered it if to +gain a point--a great point--he wrenched loose his personal obligations +a few days sooner? Yes, Marcia should go to the banquet, and, if +Hannibal desired her, then he, Pacuvius Calavius, would surrender her +into his arms. He knit his brows and spoke:-- + +"What you ask, my daughter, is truly difficult to compass, nor do I +know that any women or of what class will be present. Trust, however, +that all my power shall be at your service to gain any wish of your +heart,--and, as you know, I am not powerless,--only remember that it is +your will that I am doing. I will send a servant who shall lead you to +your chamber. Rest, prepare, and expect my return before the third +hour. Farewell." + +Marcia did not detain him. She noticed the wealth of odours that his +fluttering gown had left behind, and her contempt and disgust deepened. + + + + +IV. + +THE HOUSE OF THE NINII CELERES. + +The rustle of garments aroused Marcia from a sleep wherein had been +more of bitter revery than of rest; and, glancing up, she saw, at the +entrance of her apartment, two girls, evidently slaves. They had +knelt, with arms crossed upon their breasts and downcast eyes. + +"Will my mistress be pleased to place herself in the hands of her +servants, that she may receive refreshment and whatsoever she desires?" + +The girl's voice was soft and musical. Marcia rose, and, with a slight +inclination of the head, indicated her acquiescence; then she followed +her new guides through new halls and rooms, around and through the +colonnade, to a part of the house beyond the garden. Here were the +apartments of the bath, and, under the skilful hands of her attendants, +she felt the fatigue and blights of the journey passing from her. No +such artists of luxury were known at Rome as were these slave women of +Capua; new refinements were revealed at every step--refinements that +seemed to culminate when the hair-dresser began her work. First came +the anointing with the richest odours deftly combined from a dozen +vials of ivory or fine glass; then the crimping and curling with hot +irons, the touch of which served also, as the attendant explained, to +consume whatever coarseness clung to the perfumes and to bring out +their finest and most delicate effects. Meanwhile the Roman simplicity +of Marcia's wardrobe and jewel-case had been thoroughly explored, not +without some scornful side glances on the part of the Capuan women, and +she who was in charge of the tiring announced their contents to be +quite inadequate to dress a lady for a banquet of state--an +announcement which brought more smiles than blushes to Marcia's face. +Still, despite her half-veiled contempt, there was nothing to do but +resign herself absolutely into the hands of such competent authorities, +and, besides, she could not say that she found the process altogether +displeasing. + +The elaborate structure of curls and frizzes had now been confined in +place by a net of fine gold thread, in which were set, at regular +intervals, pearls remarkable for their colour and perfect spherical +form; then a dozen long pins with carved gold heads were passed through +the net, and above and around all was bound a diadem of thin-beaten +gold ornamented with intricate open-work tracery. Finally, the +hairdresser, having bade Marcia behold herself in the polished silver +mirror which she held up, retired with an expression of serene +self-approbation upon her face, and gave way to other attendants. + +One of these bound the smallest of jewelled sandals upon feet that were +too small, even for them; another produced a long palla or sleeveless +tunic of apple tint ornamented with feather patterns, and fastened it +with amethyst brooches at the shoulders. Last, the head tirewoman +herself came to perform what was, after the hair-dressing, the most +delicate of all these operations--the adjustment of the cyclas or +over-robe, a garment of the finest texture and of a shade known as +wax-colour, through which the tint and ornamentation of the palla +produced an effect of inimitable beauty. A slender, vine-work design, +embroidered in gold, bordered the cyclas, and it was in arranging so +that the course of this would form harmonious lines, wherein the skill +and difficulty of the task mainly lay. + +A final appeal to the mirror followed, and then, with Marcia's +approval, the work was over. She was robed, indeed, for a Capuan +banquet, and in a manner her simple Roman taste had never dreamed of. + +As yet Calavius had not returned. She sat in the portico of the +garden, awaiting him, and time was now afforded her to think of her +plans, the risk she ran, and the objects to be gained. Not since the +resolve had first found place in her mind had she wavered and feared as +now, and an intolerable repugnance began to possess her. + +Darkness had veiled the city for several hours, but it was the darkness +of a southern night and of a city in festal mood. The stars seemed to +stand out from the blue-gray vault above, as if reaching down to the +earth--whether in pity or anger, she could not tell. Around the city +itself hung the luminous aura of its lights; the cries of revellers +sounded from the neighbouring streets,--even the rush of feet,--while, +to the eastward, the glow of the Carthaginian watch-fires seemed to +reach upward to meet the rays of the stars. Yes, these were hostile to +the invaders! She knew it now. They were the glittering points of +Roman pila descending upon the foe--pila driven by the hands that +mouldered amid the red mire of Cannae. Surely those men approved of +what she was about to do! Was not Sergius among them, and would he not +will her to make good, by her beauty, what the sacrifice of his own +strength had failed to accomplish? What interest had he, now, in her +as a woman, as a mistress, as a wife? Greater thoughts must inspire +the shade that was once her lover: their common city, its life and +power, the destiny of the world that depended upon the preservation of +both of these; and still she could not banish the feeling of doubt, of +disapproval. Perhaps Calavius would not return, or perhaps he might +not be able to gain for her permission to attend the banquet? + +A commotion at the street entrance, the sound of approaching footsteps, +and the rustle of a gown seemed about to answer her question. The next +moment, her host stood before her and surveyed with astonished approval +the appearance she presented. + +"You are very beautiful," he said slowly and as if thinking with regret +that he was surrendering such perfection for mere influence and power. +"I have spoken of you and your wish, and Stenius and Pacuvius--the +Ninii Celeres--consent to your presence. The litters await us in the +vestibule, and it is time that we set out." + +Marcia rose, and he led her back through the halls and courts. + +"Who will be there?" she asked, as they approached the street door. + +"All of especial note, except Vibius Virrius and Marius Blossius. They +are away, busied about matters of state. Mago also has just departed +on a mission to Carthage. There will be no Campanians save our hosts, +myself, my son, Perolla, and Jubellius Taurea, the bravest of our +horsemen. Of our good allies, you shall see Hasdrubal, Maharbal, +Hannibal-the-Fighter, Silenus the Sicilian, who is to write the history +of the wars, Iddilcar the priest of Melkarth, and the great +captain-general himself--" + +"Come, let us hasten," said Marcia, quickly, as if fearful lest her +resolution might forsake her while there was yet chance to withdraw. + +A moment later and Calavius had assisted her into a gorgeously +caparisoned litter. She hardly noticed the rabble that thronged round +the door as she passed out, and whom the slaves of her host seemed to +keep back with difficulty. Still, she was conscious of nudgings, +looks, and gestures that made her blush, though the words that +accompanied them were unintelligible. Calavius was furious and paused, +as if to give orders for harsher repression. Then a voice called out +in coarse jargon--half Latin, half Campanian:-- + +"She is pretty, my Pacuvius! Venus grant her to restore your youth!" + +With an effort, he twisted his features into a smile. + +"May the gods favour your wish, my friend!" he said. Then, plunging +into his litter, he clapped his hands, for the bearers to proceed, and, +lying back among the cushions, ground his teeth in rage. + +"Ah! I must play to them--now. Later I shall remember and know how to +avenge. The lump of filth! Who knows, though, but that he spoke +wisdom? Perhaps I am truly giving up the hope of my youth to others." + +Meanwhile the bearers were running swiftly through the streets; that +is, as swiftly as the crowds and their condition and humour permitted. +Torches gleamed everywhere, and, from time to time as the curtains +parted slightly, Marcia caught glimpses of the scene. The city had +abandoned itself to the wildest debauchery--a debauchery that had about +it more of the desire to drown unpleasant thoughts and haunting fears +than of spontaneous exultation or mirth; and their drunkenness seemed +but a garment, thrown over the head to shut out the approaching spectre +of Roman retribution. All Capua presented to her the spectacular +results of a turbulent democracy exalted to power; for the vagaries of +the Roman plebeians seemed as nothing beside the unbridled insolence of +this populace. Here was Pacuvius Calavius, who had triumphed by their +aid over a senate more than half in sympathy with Rome; and now, +recognizing his litter, they thronged around it, calling out familiar +greetings, or even sheer vulgarities, pulling the curtains aside, +kissing their hands to him, and, from time to time, compelling his +bearers to pause while they slobbered drunken kisses upon his garments +and person. No sign of true respect greeted their leader; it seemed as +if the mob recognized him only as the creature of its whim, to be +upheld as a facile puppet or cast down by the first savage gust of +discontent. + +As for Calavius himself, he, too, fell readily into the part assigned +him. His face was wreathed in a constant smile, his lips spoke only +compliments, his hands waved greetings, until, at last, Marcia lay +back, and, closing her eyes, refused to see more of her host's +degradation. + +Suddenly the litter-bearers paused and set down their burdens. In +distance the journey had been short, but the many enforced halts had +made it seem as if the whole city had been traversed. They were now +before the porch of a house that was, if possible, even more +magnificent than that of Calavius. Every column was twined with +garlands, flowers hung in festoons from the architrave, incense steamed +up from brazen tripods set on either side of the entrance. In front +and around the entire insula, the streets were packed dense with a +seething crowd, save only for a small space before the vestibule, where +was stationed a guard of Africans equipped in the manner of Roman +legionaries. These were rude, wiry soldiers, scornful of civilians and +their fancied rights, but, above all, contemptuous of the soft +Campanian mob that arrogated so much and could command so little. At +first the populace had tried to browbeat and play with them, and the +soldiers had sallied out into the street and killed a couple of the +most talkative, wounding half a dozen more. Now the cowardly Capuans +stood back in awe, giving passage whenever the strangers called for it, +and hardly daring to whisper among themselves as to what manner of rule +they had invited to destroy them. Were it not for this summary +treatment it is doubtful whether any of the guests would have been able +to gain the entrance--least of all Calavius, who was looked upon as +their peculiar creation and mouthpiece, and at whom a hundred +complaints were volleyed (in low voices, be it said) as he made his +slow way through the press. + +Glad to escape at last from a position at once embarrassing and +dangerous, he now made haste to escort Marcia between the files of +foreign guards, into the atrium, where the Ninii Celeres--smiling +hosts--had stationed themselves to receive the guests that had been +bidden to so important a festivity. Thence he led her, muffled as she +was, to a vestiarium opening to the left side, where were already some +half-dozen women, whose attendants were adding the finishing graces to +toilets disarranged in the litters. One of these latter was assigned +to Marcia's aid, but a few touches to her hair and a slight +readjustment of the cyclas were all that was needed. + +Meanwhile, the Roman was watching, with deep interest, the group in the +court of the atrium. She had taken a position from which she could +have an unobstructed view through the doorway, and her attendant had +evidently informed herself as to the identity of the strangers, and was +anxious to win approval by communicating her knowledge. + +"That is he, most beautiful lady; the one with the long, white tunic, +at the right of my masters. Is he not poorly dressed for so great a +man? Who would imagine him of any consequence at all?" + +While the girl spoke, Marcia was regarding earnestly, and for the first +time, the chief of Carthage, the conqueror of Trebia and Trasimenus and +Cannae--of Sempronius and Flaminius and Varro. She saw a man slightly +above the middle height, well built, with strong, aquiline features and +thick, black, curling beard and hair, though the latter was worn away +at the temples by constant pressure of the helmet. It was a face that +combined deep thought, immeasurable pride, and absolute self-poise and +inscrutability--a face that would have been handsome but for the +disfiguring effect of the eye lost in the marshes of the Arnus. +Perhaps it was this that lent it something of its prevailing expression +of sadness; perhaps it was a realization of responsibilities met and to +be met and a premonition of the inevitable end. His dress was, as the +maid had so scornfully commented, plain in the extreme--a striking +contrast to the celebrated magnificence of his armour and military +equipment. Now, a simple, white, tunic-like garment, relieved by a +narrow border of gold, descended to his feet, while a slender gold +fillet was his sole ornament in addition to the seal finger-ring and +heavy earrings, which he wore in common with his companions. + +The latter formed a group hardly less interesting than their leader, +and the girl pointed them out, one by one, and made her approving or +slurring comments. There was Hasdrubal, coarse-featured, middle-sized, +and corpulent, whose garments gleamed with purple and gold, and whose +ears, fingers, and neck glittered with a profusion of jewels. Him +Marcia's informant evidently regarded with admiration approaching to +awe, although his skill as manager of the commissariat, and his +exploits as a soldier when occasion demanded, were probably unknown to +her. + +Maharbal, slight and agile, with plain, dark robe and few jewels, with +hair dressed high, diadem of plumes, and beard worn forked in the +Numidian fashion, attracted but passing comment. He was doubtless a +savage from the desert and of little wealth. Another of the generals, +however, seemed to arouse more positive sentiments: a giant in size, +with scarlet tunic, and loaded with gold chains and rings and gems, his +dark, ferocious face towered above the heads of his companions. The +woman's voice sank to a whisper as she said:-- + +"That is the one they call Hannibal-the-Fighter. They say he never +spares an enemy, and that he eats the flesh of those he kills. May the +gods grant that my masters shall wean him to-night from the love of +such hideous, barbaric fare!"--and yet, with all her horror, Marcia +almost smiled to note how the girl looked upon this brute with more of +woman's feeling for man than she bestowed upon any of his better +favoured and more famous compatriots. + +From these four the Roman's eyes wandered to a fifth Carthaginian, who +seemed to complete the tale of guests of that nationality. Her +informant had passed him by in silence, and had gone on to point out +Jubellius Taurea, Pacuvius Calavius, and his son, Perolla--the only +Campanians present besides the hosts of the occasion. When the +category was completed, however, she called the maid's attention to the +omission. + +"He?" said the latter, lightly; "the man in the violet tunic? He is +nothing--a priest of one of their gods whom they call Melkarth." + +He was a tall, gaunt man, and he stood directly behind Hannibal, and +kept his eyes fixed upon the pavement, as if studying the intricacies +of its mosaic pattern. + +Silenus, the Greek rhetor, made the last of the group. + +And now, at a signal from the hosts, the company turned and followed +them in single file toward the rear of the house. + +"They will send for you when they have reclined," said the attendant, +in answer to a glance of inquiry from Marcia; and, a moment later, the +summons came. + +Walls, floors, ceilings, every part of the house through which they +passed, seemed covered with roses clustered, festooned, and superlaid. +Suddenly they found themselves at the entrance of the great banquet +hall, where two triclinia were set facing each other, with room for the +servants to pass between and minister to the wants of the feasters. + +At the table to the east--that of honour--reclined Stenius Ninius, in +the middle place of the middle couch, with Hannibal himself at his +right, the place of honour above all. Marcia was led to the head of +the lowest couch, next to the Carthaginian leader, where she found +Pacuvius Calavius reclining below her, as the phrase went; while on the +couch directly opposite lay the priest of Melkarth in the lowest place, +and Perolla in the highest. The other places, below Pacuvius, between +Stenius and the priest, and between the priest and Perolla, were +assigned to the women, while the other table, over which Pacuvius +Ninius presided, was arranged in similar fashion. + + + + +V. + +THE BANQUET. + +Marcia had felt an instinctive shrinking when she saw that the women, +also, were to recline, after the manner of the dissolute Greeks, +instead of sitting, as she had been taught to consider the only decent +posture for a Roman maid or matron. Then the thought of her mission +brought the blush surging to her cheeks, whence it receded, leaving +them pale with a sterner resolve. Was not love of country the greatest +virtue? It was time to school herself, to shrink at nothing in that +cause. As she took her place, she noticed that the priest of Melkarth, +who lay directly opposite, had been regarding her fixedly. + +She could see his face now, and it was not a pleasing one. The Semitic +features, fine and noble in their best form, but capable of greater +depths of degeneration than those of any other type, were in his case +exaggerated to an extreme degree of coarseness. The mouth was large +and badly formed, the forehead low, the small eyes peered out snakelike +from under heavy, puffy lids. The nose alone was cut with any measure +of fineness, and that projected, wide-nostrilled, and aquiline as the +beak of a bird of prey. It would have been difficult to imagine a face +more gross and sensual in its lines, and the look of low admiration and +eagerness which it now wore, was well calculated to bring out the +sensuality in its most repulsive form. Marcia felt her cheeks burning +under the fixedness of the man's gaze, and, looking down, she struggled +to compose herself by a close study of the gorgeous coverlid of the +couch,--a fine Campanian texture, dyed scarlet, and heavily embroidered +with figures of birds and beasts and flowers, worked into an elaborate +design. + +Even then, his eyes seemed to burn through her hair, through her brain, +down into her heart, and she found her will revolting more violently +than ever against the possibilities involved in her mission. + +The voice of Hannibal, addressing some conventional compliment to +Stenius upon the perfection of the arrangements, came as an intense +relief, for the others all turned toward the speaker, and, a moment +later, the slaves passed around with silver basins and ewers, pouring +scented water upon the hands of the guests and drying them with dainty +flickings of filmy napkins. Vessels of gold and silver and fine +earthenware burdened the tables, while at each end of the garden stood +a butler in charge of several large amphorae. Those at the north end +were half buried amid imitation mountains, peaked with real snow +wherewith the wine was to be cooled, while those at the south were +surrounded by more than tropical verdure, with the braziers and vessels +of hot water beside them, ready for mixing the warm draughts. + +And now the slaves hurried hither and thither, bearing costly dishes +with elaborately dressed viands: dormice strewed with honey and poppy +seeds; beccaficoes surrounded by yolks of eggs, seasoned with pepper +and made to resemble peafowls' eggs in a nest whereon the stuffed bird +was sitting; fish floating in rich gravies that spouted from the mouths +of four tritons at the corners of the dish; crammed fowls, hares fitted +with wings to resemble Pegasus, thrushes in pastry stuffed with raisins +and nuts, oysters, scallops, snails on silver gridirons, boar stuffed +with fieldfares, with baskets of figs and dates hanging from his tusks, +sweetmeats, cold tarts with Spanish honey--these and a hundred other +dishes, strange or costly, followed each other in quick succession, +and, all the while, the carvers flourished their knives in time with +music, now of instruments, again of choruses of boys and girls. The +butlers, too, had not been idle, and the cups were constantly +replenished, first with the warm and, later, with the cold mixtures. + +Yet, though both men and women ate greedily and drank deeply, a gloom +seemed to hang over the feast. The Carthaginians, whether influenced +by native dignity or by a real or simulated contempt for their hosts, +were reserved and silent, while the Capuans seemed, at one moment, +forcing themselves into strained merriment, and, at another, cowering +before the cold eyes that watched their efforts with scarcely veiled +indifference. With fear on the one side and distrust upon the other, +the chances for hilarity and good fellowship looked scanty enough, and +yet Stenius Ninius was too much a man of the world to yield readily to +untoward social conditions. + +Clapping his hands, he cried out, as the head butler bowed before him:-- + +"Now, my good Cappadox, let us have no more of these native vintages. +Good though they were, they but serve to cultivate the taste for the +wines that cement friendships such as ours. Henceforth pour for us +only the Coan, Leucadian, and Thasian, and see that you select those +amphorae whose contents are toothless with age." + +A rough laugh rolled up from the other table, and the voice of +Hannibal-the-Fighter broke out with:-- + +"It is well said, host. Truly I was wondering if we had been drinking +from the famous cellars of Capua. We washed our horses with better +wine in the north." + +Stenius flushed. Then he smiled. + +"And, Cappadox," he went on, in an unruffled voice, "do you send what +remains in my cellar of the vintages we have been drinking, to the +horse of my worthy guest." + +At the giant's discourteous words, Hannibal himself had started from +the mood of thought in which he had seemed well-nigh buried. A quick +glance shot from his eye, and his brow furrowed. Then the courtly +answer of Stenius relieved the situation, and he turned to his host. + +"You must pardon rough words to rough soldiers, my friend. We of +Carthage have had but slender chances to avail ourselves of Greek +culture and urbanity. We are mere merchants and warriors--not men of +letters or of social manners." + +The hulking savage grew purple and trembled under the rebuke of his +chief. Twice he essayed to speak and then discreetly gulped down the +words, for Hannibal's face, though calm and courtly, showed a hardening +of its lines which meant much to those who knew him. + +As for the Campanian, he raised his hands in voluble deprecation of the +apology. + +Did _he_ not realize that but for soldiers and merchants, letters and +social manners would never have come into being? It was the privilege +of so brave a warrior as Hannibal-the-Fighter to say what he pleased, +and when and where. Ordinary rules were only for little men. Besides, +the best of Campanian wines were truly all too poor for heroes whose +souls were already attasted to the nectar of the gods. + +The suppressed fury and shame of the offender melted away under the +balm of these honeyed words, and, laughing loudly but with some +constraint, he tossed off to his host a cup of the wine last brought. + +And now Hannibal seemed to shake himself loose from the bonds of +silence and thought, though his conversation still showed the trend of +his mind. He turned to Calavius. + +"Thirty thousand foot and four thousand horse form an excellent array, +and yet I should imagine that the second city in Italy could do even +better--in case of need." + +The attention of hosts and guests became tense at once, though Marcia +could note that the motives were diverse. + +Calavius seemed nervous and flustered. + +"There was a time when that was undoubtedly so, my Lord," he said +hastily; "but, now, many of our young men have fallen in the wars, and +many are serving with the enemy, unable to escape and doubtless in +serious danger--" + +"Three hundred horsemen," interrupted Hannibal, dryly, "and my spies +inform me that they are likely to continue serving Rome--by choice, as +would doubtless many of your well-born at home--like this fellow, +Magius," and his brow darkened ominously. + +The Campanians moved uneasily on the couches. + +"Magius is a traitor and will be dealt with in due season," said +Stenius. "It is friends and festivities first with us, and enemies and +punishments later." + +"Yes, Magius shall be dealt with," echoed Hannibal; but the +acquiescence brought no relief to his hearers. Why should he feel it +necessary to supplement their assurance so significantly? Did not the +treaty between Carthage and Capua provide that Capuan laws and +magistrates should still govern all Capuans? Why should he speak so +markedly of their military power? Did not the treaty expressly state +that no Capuan was to be called upon for military duty except by his +own rulers? + +Calavius had been signalling vigorously to his son, Perolla, who had +reclined silent and gloomy, but who now seemed about to speak. +Disregarding his father's warning, the young man broke in:-- + +"It is idle to deny that the Campanian horse serve willingly with Rome +and will continue so to serve. As for Decius Magius, there are many +good men here who hold with him, but who lack his boldness." + +For an instant every one held his breath in terror of the coming +outburst, but those whose angry or frightened eyes first ventured to +glance toward the captain-general saw his face wreathed in smiles, and +his wine cup raised toward the daring speaker. + +"Happiness to you, flower of Campanian youth! and know that there are +two things that Hannibal prizes most among men: a friend who was once +an enemy, and a friend who dares to speak the truth." + +Calavius had recovered his composure during this speech. + +"I would not have you imagine, my Lord," he began, "but that my son +speaks as he believes and in order that you may have full information; +yet, he is ill to-day in body and mind, and, even were it not so, I am +older than he and know more of men. That Decius Magius has +sympathizers, it is vain to deny; but that they are many or +influential, I, who know the Capuans, aver is not the case. As for our +horsemen, it is easy to see that their safety demands an apparent +friendship for Rome. It is not wise for three hundred to revile thirty +thousand." + +Hannibal had continued to keep his gaze upon Perolla, scarcely +listening to his father's words. In the young man's face something of +surprise had mingled with his half-defiant, half-moody expression. + +"I do not ask of you, my son," pursued the general, "that you whose +heart was but lately with our enemies, should love and trust us at +once. That were the part of a hypocrite, and I honour you, both for +the filial piety that threw down your preference before your father's +will, and for the slowness with which your heart follows your act. +Grant me but this: that you judge us fairly by our deeds, and if we +prove not better friends than Rome, return to them in peace and safety. +Meanwhile there is a horse with crimson mane and feet that shall be led +from my stable to yours in the morning. Ride him, and remember that +Hannibal honours courage, filial obedience, and truth--all in like +measure." + +Subdued applause from both tables followed these words, but the face of +Perolla lost but little of its stubborn hostility. Hannibal turned +away, and Calavius and Ninius sought to cover by eager talking the +young man's ungracious reception of such signal favour. The faces of +the Carthaginians remained for the most part impassive; only their dark +eyes seemed to sparkle, either with wine or suppressed passion. Marcia +still felt that one pair was trying to look through her, and she was +conscious that Silenus, the Sicilian Greek, was making eager and +indecorous love to one of the women at the other table. Another of the +latter had just ventured on some light badinage with the chief guest, +in whose face smiles had chased away all the abstraction of the earlier +hours. He answered her as lightly, but with indifference, and turned +to Marcia. + +"And what says our Roman beauty?" he asked. "She has come boldly and +far to see her enemies. Who knows but she has a boon to beg." + +Again Marcia noted disturbance under Calavius' smile. He was wondering +at the general's knowledge. Then he realized that Mago's report must +be its basis, and his face cleared. + +"Yes, truly, I _have_ a boon to ask," replied Marcia, fixing her great +eyes upon the bearded front, stern through its smiles. "It is that you +will spare one house in Italy from ravage and destruction." + +"And where may this house be?" he asked in bantering tones. "We shall +leave many standing, but this one most surely of all." + +"It is upon the brow of the Palatine Hill--" she began, and then a +burst of applause gave notice that the compliment had struck home. "It +is my father's," she concluded, blushing. + +Calavius was in ecstasy over the graceful tact of his protégé. No +Capuan or Greek could have done better. Hannibal eyed her with a +curious expression, half admiring, half doubtful. + +"I grant the boon--freely," he said. Then, fixing her with his gaze, +he went on, "And when will you claim it?" + +"The son of Hamilcar knows best," replied Marcia, casting down her +eyes, and again she felt the approval of her host and his friends. + +That Hannibal was pleased and flattered was evident, and yet there was +a certain reserve in his manner. Possibly he suspected that she wished +to provoke an announcement of his plans; perhaps an even deeper insight +led him near to a fuller conception of her purpose. + +"Yes, it is truly for us to say," he said loudly, glancing around the +board; then, turning quickly to Marcia: "I understand that you +counselled delay until spring to my brother, Mago. Why?" + +So frank a question, so different from all that had been told of the +more than Oriental craft of the Carthaginians, and one that went so +straight to the motive of her presence, threw Marcia into some +confusion. Calavius noticed it, and, fearing lest she might say +something to do away with the impression of her former tact, he came to +the rescue. + +"Surely we shall not insult my Lord Bacchus by a council of war in his +presence?" but Hannibal waved his hand toward him and looked fixedly at +Marcia. + +"Goddesses may speak on all subjects, at all times; and the gods smile." + +"That my words," she began, with eyes still cast down, "were deemed +worthy to be borne to my Lord, is too much honour. That he should deem +them worthy of thought, is beyond the dream of mere woman." Then, +glancing up and smiling wistfully into his face, she went on: "Know, +that whatever of judgment born of knowledge of the place and the men +has come to me, a girl,--that and more is for the service of the great +general of Carthage,--the benignant liberator of Italy." + +"Why do you advise delay?" asked Hannibal again, and the eyes of +Maharbal glittered, as he leaned over from the other table. "There are +those who say I have delayed too long already." + +"For this," replied Marcia, boldly; "that you may save your soldiers +and your allies; that they may lie in rest and luxury, and that, ere +springtime, the cities of the Latin Name, yes, truly, and the very +rabble of Rome, shall come to you on their knees for leave to bear the +horseheads along the Sacred Way, up the Capitoline slope--" + +"If in the spring, why not now?" + +Maharbal and Hannibal-the-Fighter made a clucking sound of assent; +Hasdrubal and the other guests seemed indifferent, but the Capuans were +hanging on Marcia's words. + +"Because the time is not ripe--" she began. + +"Words!" cried her questioner, cutting off her speech; "I asked, _why_?" + +Frightened at his vehemence, but put to it of necessity, she answered:-- + +"Because there are strifes and bickerings--at Rome--throughout the +Latin Name--that must soon bear fruit of civil strife. The nobles +grind and hold to their privileges; the commons serve and starve and +look to Carthage for aid. How shall these things grow better, while +you hold the garden of Italy--while the Greeks of the south and the +Samnites and the men of the soil gather behind you on one side, and the +Gauls and Etruscans muster in the north? The water is eating at the +mole; soon the waves will lash up and sweep it from its foundations." + +Hannibal eyed her closely for a moment. Then he said: "There are those +at Rome and among the Latin Name who tell me otherwise. They are good +men, and they know. Perhaps I have been even too cautious. You are +young and beautiful. Hold fast to matters suited to youth and beauty, +and leave the conduct of wars and statecraft to men." Turning to +Stenius, he went on, "If this Leucadian wine of yours, my Stenius, were +let into the veins of those who lie dead at Cannae, they would be fit +to rise and do battle again." + +Stenius bowed and smiled; Marcia grew red and then pale with shame and +vexation, seeing how her plots were like to fall and crush her; but, at +this moment, the voice of Hannibal-the-Fighter rose from the other +table. Flushed with wine, he was boasting of his slain. "Four at +Trebia," he cried out, "seven at Trasimenus, eighteen at Cannae--but +all men. It is better to slay the wolves' whelps, if only to teach +women that it is no longer wise to bring forth Romans. I--I who speak +have already killed eleven boys--ah! but you must wait till we enter +Rome. Then will be the day when they shall build new cities in Hades!" + +The Carthaginians heard him with indifference; the Capuans, all save +Perolla, applauded nervously; and Marcia grew sick at heart and mad +with a rage that could almost have strangled the giant as he reclined. + +"And now," began Ninius, mildly, when there was a moment's silence, +"that we may the better enjoy what is to come, there are baths and +attendants; and the red feather will make way for new feastings at the +end of two hours." + +Slaves had run in to assist the diners from their couches; the Capuans, +with dreams of relief, refreshment, and re-repletion; the +Carthaginians, bored, but striving to be polite and to follow the +customs of their entertainers. Even Hannibal, while his smile was half +a frown, permitted himself to be led away. + +Filled with disgust and despair, Marcia felt herself all unfit to begin +a new revel--one that was to be made possible by loathsome practices, +as yet unknown at Rome, and which bade fair to end in aimless and +hideous debauchery. The women were but warming to their part, when the +summons of Stenius Ninius had proclaimed a truce with Bacchus and +Venus--a truce with promise of more deadly battle to be joined. She +had seen glances hot with wine and lust, claspings of hands, loosened +cyclas, and more lascivious reclinings. The gloomy Perolla had yielded +a little to the soft influences, and even Hannibal seemed to force +himself to toying, if only in the name of courtesy; while, through it +all, and more and more as the light of day advanced, Marcia felt the +eyes of Iddilcar, priest of Melkarth, burning into her soul. He at +least gave no heed to nearer blandishments, and terror and loathing +filled her in equal measure. + +A faintness--a sudden weakness born of her recent journey--served for +excuse, which Calavius seemed not unwilling to voice, and, surrounded +by a guard of slaves, her litter bore her back to his house, through +streets littered with drunken men and fluctuant with the figured robes +of courtesans. + + + + +VI. + +ALLIES. + +Night had come again, before Marcia could arouse herself from the deep +sleep with which exhaustion of mind and body had overwhelmed her. She +remembered the scenes of the banquet as the phantasms of a +dream--strange and terrible; for her thoughts were slow to gather the +threads and weave the woof. Only a feeling of failure, of fruitless +abasement, was ever present. Hannibal had admired her, but, proof +against any controlling attraction, he had put her words aside with +little short of contempt. A dread, even, lest the strange acumen of +this wonderful man had pierced her mask, and that her very motive and +mission were already suspected, was not lacking to add dismay to +discouragement. Such thoughts were but wretched company, and they +brought with them a vague conception of her own vain egotism in +imagining the possibility of other outcome. She tried to sleep again, +but could not. What mattered it though, by some shifting of hours, her +day had become night and her night day! She must arise and talk with +some one, if it were only the host whom she so heartily despised. + +Attendants entered at her summons, and the refreshment of the bath and +the labour of the toilet were once more passed through. Then, +dismissing the slaves, she walked out alone into the garden and sat +down on a softly cushioned seat of carved marble. A fountain plashed +soothingly in the foliage near by, the stars were shining again, while, +from without, the jarring sounds of the city came to her ears. + +How long she sat, awake yet thinking of nothing, dull and dazed, she +could not tell. Then she was aroused by a sandalled step upon the +pavement. A man was standing before her, whose face, despite its +youthful contours, was deep-lined and melancholy. He was short of +stature and slenderly though gracefully built, and his black curls +clustered over brow and eyes that seemed rather those of a poet or a +dreamer than of a man of action. In the sombre, dark blue garments of +mourning, without ornaments or jewels, so different from the gay +banqueting robes in which she had last seen him, Marcia gazed a moment, +before she recognized Perolla, the son of Pacuvius. + +"You are not pretty to-night, Scylla," he said tauntingly, "though you +left us early. There are dark circles under the eyes that looked +kindly at the enemy of your country." + +Marcia flushed crimson, and he went on: "Yes; I watched you smiling and +ogling, but it will take greater traitors than you to snare him. He is +like Minos, in that he did not reach out to take from your hands the +purple lock shorn from your father's head: he is not like him +otherwise: he is not just, and he will not give honourable terms." + +"You, at least, are faithful to Rome?" said Marcia, slowly, and +ignoring his insults. + +"Can you ask?" he answered; "is it that you wish to betray me? Well, +then, know truly that I have betrayed myself to your heart's content. +Do you not see the mourning garments I wear for my city's faithlessness +and for her coming ruin? Have you not heard how my father dragged me +from the side of Decius Magius in the market place that I might attend +the banquet?--ah! but you have not heard how I had planned to startle +them all." + +Marcia began to wonder whether she was talking with a madman. + +"Shall I tell?" + +She made a sign of assent. + +"It was toward evening--they have but just risen from the tables now. +Then, it was to seek the red feathers for the third time; but I led my +father back among the rose bushes and showed him a sword which I had +girt to my side, beneath my tunic. 'This,' said I, 'shall win us +pardon from Rome. Look you, when we return, I will plunge it into the +Carthaginian's breast.'" + +Marcia bent forward eagerly. + +"And then," he went on, "my father bound my arms to my sides, with his +own around me, and wept and talked of our recent pledges to these +foreigners. 'Can they outweigh our ancient pledges to Rome?' I +answered. So he pleaded how the attendants would surely cut me down, +and mentioned Hannibal's look, which he affirmed I would not be able to +confront; but I laughed and made little of these things. Then he spoke +of the hospitable board, which I admitted had something of reason; and, +finally, when he had declared that the sword must reach Hannibal only +through his own breast, then, at last, from filial duty, mark you, I +threw the weapon from me, telling him that he had betrayed his country +thrice: in revolting from Rome, in allying with foreigners, and, now, +in turning aside the instrument of escape. Then we returned to the +banquet, but my father trembled, and ate and drank no more. There, +now, is a story to tell your city's destroyer. If you betray me, +perhaps he may yet love you." + +Marcia viewed him sternly. + +"Truly your father was right, when he said you were ill in mind." + +"Yes, ill in mind and in heart." + +"How, then, do you not recognize one whose heart is sicker than your +own?" + +Perolla looked at her inquiringly, and she went on:-- + +"You have a city that has been false to itself, and is in danger of +punishment--a father, too, if you will. _My_ city has already suffered +every evil but destruction: my brother and he to whom Juno was about to +lead me have been killed by these pulse-eaters. Are such things the +benefits that go to make friendship and love for the slayers? Say, +rather, hate and the craving for revenge." + +"Yes," said Perolla, moodily; "they are indeed evils, but less than +mine, in that they are passed--" + +"And is Rome safe, do you think?" she asked quickly. + +"Rome will conquer," he said doggedly, "unless there be many more +traitors like you." + +"Fool!" she cried, grasping his wrist. "Can you not see--you who claim +to be a philosopher and to have Greek blood?--you, at least, should +have understood my words." + +He gazed at her vacantly, and she began to regret her vehemence. It +came to her mind that this was not altogether a safe man to trust with +her secret. Faithful he was, no doubt; but a fool might be even more +dangerous than a traitor. Still, she had said too much to be silent, +and she felt the need of some ally to whom she could talk--upon whom +she could at least pretend to lean when the weight of her burden was +heaviest. + +"I have told you what I have lost--what I dread to lose. Now learn +what I am here to gain. For many days after the black news of Cannae, +I heard them talking in my father's house--talking of the advance of +the insolent victors and of the paltry defence we could oppose, the +certain destruction that awaited us. Still they were brave--old men +and boys. The soldiers were dead, but we set to work training +new--shaping them alike out of youth and age and bondmen; and the +slayers of our citizens delayed, and we gained strength and courage. +In every temple of the twelve gods it was the same prayer by day and +night: 'Grant us delay. Grant us that the winter may find him in the +south!' At last came the news that he was advancing to Capua, and +rumours of a Carthaginian party in the city. From Capua, seized with +all its engines of war, was but a few days to Rome. Then I took a +resolve and made a vow: tell me, am I beautiful?" + +"Beautiful as Venus." + +"Know, then, that I have dedicated this beauty to her, that she may +guard Rome and avenge me upon Rome's enemies." + +He shook his head stupidly. + +"Minerva does not favour me, lady," he replied; "for I do not +understand your words." + +"Listen!" she went on, with the earnestness of desperation, "He shall +_love_ me--he or one who can sway him--and they shall play the laggards +here, until the winter gives us time--and time brings safety." + +He understood her now, but still he shook his head. + +"If you speak truth," he said slowly, "you speak foolishness as well. +Hannibal will love no mistress but Carthage, and there is no man living +who shall sway him by a hair's breadth. _Now_ I see why you spoke to +him of plots at Rome and of the wisdom of delay. Ah! a woman to make +game of _him_!" and he threw back his head and laughed. "Do you +imagine he has not divined your plot? Give him your beauty if you +will. He will take it, doubtless, if he have time, and march north +forthwith, after you have confessed your little plottings beneath the +hot tweezers. Only one thing shall stay him--steel,--and in the hands +of man--not blandishments in the mouth of a girl." + +Marcia was in despair. + +"And is there no help," she cried, "for me, a Roman woman, from you, a +friend of Rome? Surely we shall be stronger together, even if our +plots are different. Two plans are better than one." + +Before he could frame his answer they heard footsteps coming toward +them, and then a man, enveloped in the brown cloak of a slave, pushed +aside the foliage and glided out into the moonlight. Perolla, wheeling +about, had half drawn his sword, while Marcia shrunk back into the +shadow. + +"Put up your sword, my Perolla," said the newcomer, speaking in low +tones and throwing aside his mantle. + +"Decius Magius, by all the gods!" cried the young man; "but why are you +disguised?" + +"Because, my friend," said Magius, slowly "Capua is no longer free; +because spies of the Carthaginian and of our senate are watching my +house, making ready to seize me. Decius Magius can no longer walk in +his own city, clad in his own gown, and to-morrow, doubtless, he cannot +walk at all. Therefore I wish to speak with you, and I have put on +this disguise in order that I might gain your house unobserved, and +that your father might not die of fright, learning me to be here." + +"But how did you enter? how find me?" + +"I entered, my Perolla, because your porter, like every slave in Capua, +is drunk to-night, and because the boy whom he left to keep the gate +was only enough awake to mumble that you were in the garden." + +Perolla frowned. Then, suddenly, he remembered Marcia, concerning whom +his suspicions were not yet entirely removed, and he raised his hand in +warning. + +"There is a woman here--a Roman woman, who tells a strange story," he +whispered. "It is better to be discreet." + +"The time for discretion is past for Decius Magius," said the other, +wearily. "Let him at least speak freely upon his last night of +freedom." + +Marcia came forward. + +"Is it permitted a Roman maid to honour a Campanian who is true to his +city's faith?" + +"Assuredly, daughter," replied Magius, quietly. She could not see his +face except that it was stern and gray-bearded; but, kneeling down +beside him, she took his hand and poured out the story of her life, her +sorrow, her resolve, and its prosecution. Here, at least, was a man +upon whose faith and judgment she could rely, and his manner grew more +gentle as she made an end of speaking. + +"So you doubted her truth, my Perolla," he said softly. "That is +because you have not felt her hand tremble, and because you are too +young and too much of a philosopher to judge of the honesty of a +woman's face. The same instinct that tells me, doubtless warned +Hannibal also that this was not a courtesan, much less an immodest +woman well born, and, least of all, a coward who would flee her city, +or a traitress who would betray it. You will know more of such things, +my Perolla, when you learn to study them less." Then, turning to +Marcia, he went on: "What you have designed, my daughter, is noble and +worthy of your race--and yet, while I commend, I am slow to encourage. +Are you strong to carry your sacrifice to the uttermost?" + +Marcia shuddered. + +"Yes, if there be need," she said, in a low voice; "I look to no +marriage now. Is not the Republic worthy of our best?" + +"It is a hard thing," he said, doubtfully, "for a woman well born and +modest to belong to a man she hates." + +"But it is easy to die, my father, as died Lucretia." + +Decius Magius looked at her. Several times his lips moved as if about +to speak, and, once, he turned away sharply for a moment, as if to gaze +up into the night. + +"Tell me, my father," she said earnestly, "do you give me no hope? Is +not my beauty worth the purchase of a few paltry months? And then +comes the winter, bringing safety." + +Still Magius said nothing for several minutes, and when he spoke, it +was in harsh, quick tones. + +"Yes, it is all possible, as you say it." + +"Hannibal to surrender his plans for a woman?" cried Perolla, +scornfully. "Surely, my Decius, you jest. Do you not know him--that +only the gods can turn him from his purpose?" + +Marcia had wheeled about with flashing eyes and faced the last speaker. + +"You have shown me the way," she cried. "It is the gods who _shall_ +delay him." + +Perolla gazed at her in astonishment, as at one gone mad, but Magius +nodded and frowned. + +"It is the best chance," he said slowly, "the only one." + +"Still Minerva does not favour me," said Perolla, shaking his head; but +Marcia went on in a high, nervous voice and with a gayety that made the +older man draw his cloak up to his face in pity:-- + +"Come, my philosopher, you are indeed stupid to-night. If you did not +observe it at the house of the Ninii, you should have heard me just now +when I told the story of the banquet to my lord Decius. It is +Iddilcar, the priest of Melkarth, who shall bring his god to be my +ally--Rome's ally: Iddilcar, who could not so much as take his eyes +from me, through all their feasting. There is the man who will prefer +my beauty, even to his god's favour; and surely your Hannibal will not +wage war against the auspices." + +The face of Magius was still shaded by his cloak, and he said nothing; +but over the features of the younger man came strange expressions: +first amazement, then horror, then a look which had something of horror +but more of yearning. He held out his hands in supplication. + +"No--no," he cried. "You shall not do it. You are too beautiful. +First I hated you, when I dreamed you to be but a courtesan traitress. +Now--now--O gods favour me! Listen! you shall not do it. It is I who +will kill him--yes, and you also first," and, turning suddenly away, he +staggered. Then, as Magius raised his hand to support him, he shook +himself free and ran furiously into the house. + +Marcia turned to Magius in astonishment, and he smiled sadly. + +"Even philosophers are not proof," he said; "and you are very +beautiful--and he is young--and half a Greek." She blushed, and the +grim senator took her hand. "May the gods grant, my daughter, that +your sacrifice be not for nothing. You have spoken wisdom; but he--he +is a madman. As for me, I am as one who is dead. Farewell." + +He dropped her hand, and she felt, rather than heard or saw him go; +only her voice would not obey her when she strove to detain him, if but +for a moment: the only man in Capua whom she could honour--upon whom +she could rely. Surely he would not desert her thus?--yes, truly, he +was _gone_. + +Then she ran several steps in the direction he had taken, and called, +though she dared not call his name, until a female attendant came +hurrying to answer her. + +"My lord, Perolla," said the girl, "had but just rushed out into the +street, as if possessed of a daimon. As for a strange slave, she had +observed no one; but if such there was, doubtless he had slipped by the +porter's boy--who was worthless." + +Marcia groped her way to her sleeping apartment, harshly brushing aside +an offer of aid. Once alone, she threw herself down upon the couch and +burst into a torrent of moans and sobs. + +The girl, who had followed hesitatingly, listened in the hallway, +nodding her head with conscious satisfaction. "And so the Roman women +loved, for all they were said to be so grand and stern. What a fool +this one was, though, to prefer the son to the father, who was much +richer, and who, being old, would doubtless realize the necessity of +being more generous." + +And she went back to the slaves' apartments, laughing softly to herself. + + + + +VII. + +"FREEDOM." + +The morning air of the Seplasia reeked with perfumes, more, even, than +was its wont; for Carthaginian and Capuan revellers had been carousing +there, and several of the shops had been broken open. The gutters +streamed wine with which were mingled all the essences of India and +Asia. Flowers, withered and soaked with coarser odours than their own, +floated on the pools and drifted down the rivulets. Inert bodies, +drunk to repletion, lay scattered about, helpless, unable to drink +consciously, but absorbing the wasted liquor through every pore. A +dead citizen, his head crushed in by a single blow, sprawled hideously +in the middle of the street; while his murderer, a gigantic Gaul, was +embracing the corpse with maudlin affection and whispering in its ear +to arise and guide him back to camp. Those who passed, from time to +time, paused to join the soldier's comrades in laughter and rude jests +and suggestions of new methods of awakening his friend. + +And now, down the street, extending from wall to wall, came a line of +young men, their faces flushed, their garments disordered or cast +aside, and their brows crowned with what had once been chaplets of +roses. Three or four courtesans, with gowns and tunics torn from their +white shoulders, were being dragged along, half laughing, half +resisting, and wholly possessed by Bacchic frenzy. + +In front of the company marched a slender youth with dark, curling hair +and delicate features. In his hand was a thyrsis, and his eyes blazed +with the madness of the wine. + +"Evoe! evoe!" he shouted. "Comrades! Bacchantes! there is no water in +Capua to mix with wine. Equal mixture for poets and fools; undiluted +wine for victors and lovers!" + +"Perolla is a good Carthaginian to-day," shouted one of his fellows. +"Behold how Bacchus has answered our prayers! Kiss him, Cluvia, for a +reward." + +Pushed forward, the courtesan fell upon the young man's neck, almost +bearing him to the street and overwhelming him with drunken caresses. +A moment later he freed himself from her arms. + +"What is Roman beauty to our Capuan?" he hiccoughed. +"Marcia--Cluvia--all are one. All are women, and we are Capuans; +braver than Romans, wiser than Carthaginians. Listen, friends! when my +father rules Italy, you shall all be kings and queens. Evoe! evoe!" + +Shouts and shrieks of drunken joy greeted his words. Several sought to +embrace him, and, staggering back, he stumbled over the Gaul and the +dead Capuan where they sprawled in the street. Mingled laughter and +curses rose all around. Blows and kisses were given and received, and +the mad company rolled on through the Seplasia and into the Forum. + +Here, too, were intoxication and debauchery, but they were restrained +within some manner of bounds. The fact that grave events were taking +place, seemed to exert a sobering influence on the populace, and they +gathered in a dense throng around the Senate House, whence ominous +rumours pursued each other in quick succession. + +"The Senate was in session. Hannibal was before them. Decius Magius +had been arrested at his demand." So ran the talk. + +Guards of Carthaginian soldiery were posted at several points, but +especially at all the entrances to the chamber in which the fathers of +the city discussed--or obeyed; and against these lines the waves of the +rabble surged and broke and receded. Men offered the soldiers money +for free passage or news; women offered them kisses for money; and the +soldiers took both and gave nothing but jeers and blows. + +Perolla and his drunken company had but just poured out to swell the +tide of this ocean of popular passion, when a commotion of a different +character began at the other end of the Forum. The closed door of the +Senate House swung open, and a man in the garb of a senator, but +chained and shackled, issued forth and stood on the steps, beneath the +porch. Surrounded by a guard of Africans, it was fully a moment, +before the mob recognized Decius Magius, the partisan, of Rome. Then a +chorus of howls and curses rose up. Insults were hurled,--the grossest +that the minds of a licentious rabble could suggest, fists were shaken, +women spat toward the prisoner,--even a few stones were cast, and when +one of these happened to strike an African of the guard, he turned +quietly and cut down the nearest citizen. Then, with their heavy +javelins so held as to be used either as spears or clubs, the soldiers +descended into the Forum, and, with the captive in their midst, began +their progress toward the street and gate that led to the Carthaginian +camp. There was no weak delay in this progress, no requests for +passage; the escort clove through the mass of the people, as a war +galley dashes through the breakers of a turbulent sea. A spray of +human beings that strove to escape but could not, boiled up about the +prow; a wake of bodies, writhing or senseless, fell behind the stern, +while, at either side, the stout javelins rose and fell like the +strokes of oars, splashing up blood for foam. + +The taunts and threats that had assailed the prisoner died away amid +shrieks of terror or pain and the deep rumble of the mob. Stupid with +drink, drunk with the exultation of ungoverned power, they wondered +vaguely, as they crushed back, why their new friends should strike, +merely because they,--the Capuan people,--allies of Carthage, strove to +punish a traitor and a common enemy. The prisoner's lips were seen +moving, as his captors hurried him along; but no speech from them could +be heard, until the Forum had been nearly traversed. Then, on the hush +born of surprise and efforts to escape blows, the words of Magius were +audible, at least to those nearest. + +He was protesting against this violation of the treaty. He was +speaking of himself; a Capuan, than whom no one was of higher rank, +being dragged in chains to the camp of an ally who had sworn that no +Carthaginian should have power over a citizen of Capua. At the mention +of his rank, malice and envy lent to some of the cowed rabble courage +to jeer once more. Then he had asked, how they expected that an ally +so careless of recently sworn obligations would respect his vow that no +Capuan would be compelled to do military service against his will; +whereupon, some of those who heard looked serious, for this seemed +reasonable, and brought the possibility of evil unpleasantly home to +them. Finally, he congratulated them upon this marvellous, new-found +freedom which the Carthaginian alliance had brought, and which they had +been celebrating so earnestly. + +Perolla and his companions had found themselves crushed against the +portico of the temple of Hercules, in which, only the day before, had +been established, also, the worship of the Tyrian Melkarth, out of +compliment to the new alliance. + +At first they had realized but little of what was going on before and +around them. They had listened vacantly to crazy rumours of how the +statue of Jupiter in the Senate House had bowed to Hannibal as he +entered, and how the Senate had forthwith saluted him as a god and +declared him the patron and protector of the city; and, again, to other +rumours even more wild of how the wives of all the Capuans had been +decreed to be given to the Carthaginians, in return for which the women +of Rome were to be surrendered to the Capuans by their victorious +allies. + +When Decius Magius was led out in custody of the soldiers, Perolla was +trying to think whether, after all, he would not prefer Marcia to +Cluvia. Then followed the passage through the crowded Forum, straight +toward the exit beside the temple of Hercules, and Perolla found +himself within a spear's length of his captive friend, whose words of +protest and warning fell upon his ears like molten lead, and whose +reproachful eyes gazed into his own, piercing through them to his brain +and dissipating the fumes of intoxication as sunlight melts the fog. +Decius had not spoken to him, for he was mindful that such speech might +bring suspicion upon the younger man, but his look had said all that +his tongue refrained from saying, and Perolla realized his degradation +and his shame. + +He started forward and cried out:-- + +"I was mad, my father; _mad_! do you hear? It was because I knew +suddenly that I loved her, and that she would never love me! and then I +rushed out and met others who were drinking, and we feasted and drank +until I knew nothing. Pardon! pardon!" + +Suddenly he became conscious that Decius and his guards were gone. Had +he heard his plea? Surely yes, for did not he, Perolla, now hear his +friend's eyes saying to him that he was but a fool who had added to +folly, philosophy, and to both, weakness, and to all, madness? He +looked around at his companions. Some were gaping at him vacantly, +some were laughing. Cluvia tried to grasp his arm, and he shook her +off and saw her stumble and roll down the steps that led up to the +portico; then a new commotion arose in the direction of the Senate +House, and the attention of the bystanders was diverted. More +Carthaginian soldiers were forming and marching through the mob that +now opened to give passage of double width; and, as the escort came +nearer, Perolla saw Hannibal, clad in the gown of a Capuan senator, +moving calmly in their midst. + +A new frenzy came to his brain to take the place of the fumes of wine: +perhaps it was one compounded of that and of shame and horror and +revenge. He groped under his torn tunic and found his dagger; then, +brandishing it, he burst down through the crowd, uttering incoherent +words, and threw himself, like a wild beast, upon the guards. + +He had stabbed one through the throat and another in the shoulder, +before he was beaten down by a blow from the staff of a javelin. A +moment later, the first soldier to recover from the surprise of the +incident bent over him with drawn sword. + +A sharp exclamation from behind checked the descending thrust, and the +soldier turned quickly. Hannibal stood beside him, with a thoughtful +smile upon his lips. + +"Would you kill a citizen of Capua? a man of our allies?" he said +quietly. + +The African looked around stupidly. That he should not crush the +Italian vermin forthwith was beyond his comprehension, but evidently +such was not the schalischim's wish. Grumbling, he slipped his sword +slowly back into its sheath, and, at that moment, several of the Capuan +senators in Hannibal's train gathered round him with protestations and +expressions of regret. The general looked at them and frowned. + +"I have been with you scarcely two days," he said, "and now you try to +murder me." + +The senators fell upon their knees, kissing his gown and hands, in a +frenzy of horror at the thought. + +"Who is this fellow?" asked Hannibal, turning Perolla over with his +foot. Then, recognizing the son of Pacuvius Calavius, he went on: +"Some one of no consequence, doubtless; dust of the street that stings +when the wind drives it," and he glared around at the prostrate +senators. + +They glanced at the senseless figure, as if hardly daring so much. +Some knew him, more did not; but all united in protesting their +ignorance. + +Hannibal viewed them with drooping lids, and the smile returned to his +lips. Perolla stirred slightly. + +Again he addressed the Capuans, raising his voice somewhat, so that the +crowd might hear. + +"What is your law for the punishment of such a crime?" + +Those who had not recognized the assassin, cried out, "Death." Others, +divided between the more powerful enmity of Hannibal and the slower +revenge of Calavius, made their lips move but were silent, hoping to +escape notice in the shout of the others. A few of these were envious +of the young man's father; more feared him. + +Hannibal noted their confusion and came to their relief. + +"But perhaps so wicked a man is not a Capuan, after all. It is +difficult to believe that the gods would suffer such impiety to lurk in +a city so beloved as yours; and, if no one knows him--" + +A chorus of disclaimers snatched at the proffered evasion, and the +smile on Hannibal's lips grew more subtle, as he said:-- + +"In that case, the treaty does not stand, and you, my fathers, are +relieved from the burden of his trial and punishment. I am still free +to condemn an ally of Rome. Let your rods and axe do their office." + +The senators were standing now, and several of them winced and looked +frightened at the swift result of their complaisance. One, even, +gathered courage to say:-- + +"When is it my lord's will that punishment fall?" + +Hannibal eyed him closely for a moment. + +"Here, in your forum, and now," he said, "provided you would give +prompt warning to such vermin." + +The Capuan shifted uneasily and looked down. Several of the soldiers +had already lifted Perolla to his feet, and, holding him upright, had +torn away what remained of his garments; others sent for the +executioners, and, in a moment, these appeared with the instruments of +their calling. + +It was doubtful whether the prisoner had recovered full consciousness +when the first rod fell upon his shoulders, but he groaned and writhed +slightly in the grasp of the four soldiers who held him extended upon +the pavement. + +Then Hannibal turned away, ordering one of his officers to remain and +see the end. He signed to the Capuans to follow him. + +"Such jackals, my fathers, are not worthy that men of rank and wealth +should watch them die," he said lightly. "The rabble will provide him +with sufficient audience." + +And the senators, with awed and thoughtful faces, followed in the train +of the captain-general of Carthage. + + + + +VIII. + +DIPLOMACY. + +Pacuvius Calavius sat in the atrium of his house. Black robed from +head to foot, with hair and beard untrimmed and uncombed, and face and +hands foul with dirt, he rocked to and fro and groaned. From time to +time he ran his fingers through beard and hair, and uttered the +measured cry of the Greek mourners. + +An hour before, one of the senators had stolen furtively in, and, +having hurriedly related the grewsome scene just enacted in the Forum, +had sneaked out again as if he were a spy passing through hostile +lines. None other of the friends of the afflicted father had ventured +to bear or send a message of condolence. It was as if the house of the +once acknowledged leader had been marked for the pestilence--and no +pestilence was more to be shunned than the deadly blight of broken +power. Even the slaves shifted about in embarrassed silence, offered +little service, and obeyed as if conscious that obedience was something +of an indiscretion, and was liable at any moment to become a crime. +Some had slipped away to their quarters, and had begun to discuss the +relative possibilities of freedom, wholesale execution, or a new +master, when the coming blow should fall upon this one. + +To Marcia, on the other hand, had been born a feeling of sympathy for +her host, that, for the present, overcame the contempt with which he +had inspired her--a contempt scarcely lessened by the repulsive +ostentation of his mourning. She alone ventured to minister to his +wants and to beg him to partake of food and drink. Perhaps her +attitude was due in a measure to the horror with which she herself had +listened to the morning's news. To be sure, she had not admired the +character of Perolla. It had in it too much of the weakness and +puerility engendered by the bastard Greek culture fashionable in lower +Italy, and which naturally attained its most offensive form in the +towns of Italian origin. Still, he had been faithful to Rome, and +there was something within that told her his madness and ruin were not +entirely disconnected with her own personality. Word, too, had just +been brought her that both Ligurius and Caipor had died of their +injuries. They had seemed on the road to recovery when she visited +them on the previous day, and this sudden misfortune filled her with +new forebodings, mingled with a suspicion too horrible to dwell upon. +As for Decius Magius, she had barely seen him, yet she had felt him to +be one of all others upon whom she could rely--an Italian uncorrupted +by Capuan luxury, a worthy descendant of the rugged Samnite stock, a +Roman in all but name; and now he was snatched away, a prisoner in the +hands of enemies who knew nothing of mercy. Still, he had approved of +her design; had seen in it the possibility of success; and there was at +least a consolation in the thought that, without friends or allies, no +one but herself would now be cognizant of the fulfilment of her +impending degradation. + +Another hour had passed; into Marcia's mind had come the calmness of a +fixed resolve. Calavius still moaned and cried out his measured "Aêi! +aêi!" + +Suddenly a tumult of noises sounded from the street: the approaching +murmur of a multitude, the footsteps of men, shouts of applause, cries +of wonder or warning, and sharp words of command. + +Ah! the end was near, now. Calavius began to imagine himself +stretching out his neck to the sword, and he sought, by proclaiming his +willingness and welcome, to stay the chilling of his blood, the +trembling of his lips and hands. + +Staves were beating upon the outer door; the hum of voices in the +street rose and fell and rose again. + +"Open the door, Phoenix," mumbled Calavius, as he rocked and swayed. +"Open the door and let them enter. I am an old man. My son is dead. +What matters a few years of life? I pray to the gods that the +barbarians may not hack me. You shall see how easy I will make it--if +they have but a sharp sword." Suddenly he sprang to his feet and +grasped Marcia's arm. "They will not scourge me? Surely they will not +scourge me? I am a senator and the friend of Carthage!--will the door +hold? Hasten, my daughter; run and tell me whether they are guarding +the street in the rear--before the tradesmen's gate." + +The beating upon the door still continued, with short intermissions, +and Marcia surmised that the porter was probably skulking in the attic +with his fellow-slaves. Calavius had turned suddenly from the depths +of despair and the height of resignation to a keen desire for life. He +had hurried away to seek for some unguarded exit, heedless, for the +moment, of what even Marcia fully realized: the utter impossibility of +a man so well known escaping unaided through a hostile city and without +a friendly land whereto to turn his flight. He had left her standing +in the court, to be a first prey of the assailants, whether Capuans or +Carthaginians, and she reasoned that it would be better, or at least +quicker, to unbar the door before it should be broken in: she was +wondering, in fact, at the forbearance that had preserved it thus far +from more violent assault. Calavius had been gone some time. +Doubtless he had escaped or, recognizing the uselessness of his +attempt, was hiding somewhere, and, in either event, nothing would be +lost by judicious parleying. + +Arranging her robe, she walked slowly through the hall, slid back the +bolts one by one, and let the door swing out into the street; then she +stood, dazed and frightened, for the sight that met her eyes was +Hannibal himself reclining in a litter borne by four Nubians. The +curtains were thrown back, and he was leaning out, evidently giving +some directions to the attendants whose summons had thus far failed to +obtain an answer. Beside the litter stood the priest, Iddilcar, with +folded arms and look bent upon the ground. Around them were ranged a +strong guard of Africans, and, back through the streets, as far as she +could see, the Capuan rabble were thronging forward, curious or +bloodthirsty. + +All this was visible in a moment, and then the general, attracted by +the creaking of the door and the exclamation of the crowd, looked up +and saw Marcia standing upon the threshold. + +The litter was set down at an imperceptible signal, and he stepped out, +robed in a loose gown of black, entirely without ornaments, and with +hair and beard uncombed and sprinkled lightly with ashes. Marcia +stared in wonder. Surely this could not be the Carthaginian method of +announcing judgment or execution! She caught a flash of subtle +lightning from the eyes of Iddilcar, though these had not seemed to +neglect for a moment their close scrutiny of the pavement. Then +Hannibal stood before her, bowing low and speaking in suppressed +tones:-- + +"The gods be with you and dwell within this house! I have come to look +upon the face of my father, and, if may be, to console him. Praise be +to Tanis for the omen that you have opened to us, rather than one whose +servile duty it was. So shall our entrance be free and our going +joyful." + +He had cast a rapid glance around, as he spoke, and Marcia knew that he +divined why the service of tending the door had been left to her--a +free woman and a guest; yet he was pleased to ignore all inferences, +and to attribute her act to some divine will. His words, too, were +more than friendly, and, if they covered no snare of Punic faith, +augured safety and continued favour. + +"I have come," he continued, "that I might mingle my tears with those +of my father who mourns the death of a son." + +Marcia stood amazed. Had they not been told how this man had himself +ordered the execution of Perolla? How, then, could even a Carthaginian +show such effrontery! Still, it was necessary to think quickly, and +her woman's wit told her that, in any event, Calavius' best chance of +safety was to seem to accept the visit in the spirit which cloaked it. +So thinking, she led the visitors into the peristyle,--Hannibal, +Iddilcar, and some twenty soldiers who followed as if by previous +orders; while the rest mounted guard before the vestibule. Murmuring +some word of apology, she hurried back through the garden to the +tradesmen's door. + +It was still closed and barred, facts which, together with the rumble +of the crowd without, showed that Calavius' plan of escape had proven +impracticable. Then she began a careful search, becoming more +agitated, with each moment, about the difficulty of explaining the +delay. At last she found him, hidden away under a couch in one of the +slaves' apartments, so senseless with terror that several minutes +passed, before he could grasp her tale of Hannibal's presence, and of +the chance of safety it offered. When, however, he understood that +there was yet room for diplomacy,--that the visitors were not mere +executioners with orders to obey,--he drew himself out from his +hiding-place, alert and active. The need of haste, in view of the time +already lost, was apparent; but, nevertheless, he paused in the garden +to wallow a moment in the mould and plunge his hands into its depth. + +Marcia saw with disgust, but she led on until they reached the +peristyle; when, slipping aside into one of the cells, she watched the +playing of the game. + +Calavius paused a moment at the entrance. Then, groaning deeply to +attract attention, he shambled forward, and, throwing himself at full +length before Hannibal, seized the hem of his robe and pressed it +eagerly to his lips. + +"Ah, my master!" he cried. "Slay me, slay me at once or with tortures. +Surely that man is not fit to live whose loins have engendered such a +monster of wickedness. Only by death can I hope to expiate my offence +and retain the favour of the gods." + +"Rise, my father," said the captain-general, and to Marcia's ears his +voice rang true with sympathy. He reached out his hand to help +Calavius. "Do you not see that I also wear mourning for this +melancholy error?" + +"Never shall I rise or face you," cried Calavius, "until you give me +your oath that I shall have your forgiveness before I die. Ah, the +monster! the parricide! who would slay, at one stroke, both him who had +brought him up to better deeds, and him who is indeed the father of his +country. Ah, gods! the shame of it! Give orders, lord, quickly--only +vow first that you forgive me." + +Hannibal's tones were low and deep with sorrow, and, by an +imperceptible effort of what must have been prodigious strength, he +raised the unwilling Calavius to his feet. + +"Listen, my father," he said. "Have they not told you how I knew not +the young man? He was stained and dishevelled with revellings in +honour of our alliance--in honour of me, unhappy one. Perchance the +Lord Bacchus, whom you worship, willed to have him for his own, for +surely it was he that raised the young man's hand against me. Ah! my +father, did I not know how this son of thine was most beautiful, best, +and bravest of the Capuan youth? Had I not marked him out for signal +honour--only less than yours, my father and his? See, now, how the +gods confuse the affairs of men. It was at the banquet that I learned +his worth, and determined that he should love me and find in me a +friend." + +"Truly yes," interrupted Calavius, "and you had won his heart, for, +walking in the garden, he told me as much, only adding that he must +appear to turn to you slowly--for the honour of his name among the +partisans of Rome, whom may the gods confound as they have done." + +Hannibal smiled softly, as he took up the words:-- + +"All this I knew well, being somewhat learned in men, my father; and +now the gods have smitten my brother with madness that he should try to +slay me, and myself with blindness that I should, unknowingly, order +the death of one I loved most. Look, my father, I join you in your +mourning, with black robes and ashes; I come to weep with you at the +feet of Fate--you whose love for me has lost you a son, and to offer +you myself to be a son in his place." + +Calavius embraced him, mumbling prayers and vows and endearments in the +sudden joy of escaped death. Iddilcar raised his eyes from the study +of the mosaics and turned aside, shaking as if with some strong +emotion, and Hannibal spoke again. + +"One thing more, my father, I would speak to you of, though for my best +interests I should hold my peace nor make dissensions among allies. +There were those with me when this evil happened--men of your Capuan +Senate--who knew this youth better than I, and who I am convinced +suspected the truth; yet they spoke not--" + +"Ah!" cried Calavius, "and you have their names writ down for me? We +shall slay them!" + +Hannibal's face wore an expression strangely inscrutable as he +answered:-- + +"Yes, my father, I have their names whom I suspect; and they shall +surely die. Grant it to me, though, that I alone keep them and expiate +my own fault by avenging your wrong. This I swear by Baal-Melkarth and +Baal-Moloch to accomplish at the season best for our plans. Therefore +I tell you the fact, but without names, that you may know that you have +enemies and walk warily, while I, your son, shall, under the gods, be +your reliance for protection and revenge." + +Another thought seemed to be struggling for utterance in the bosom of +Calavius--a wish prompted by religion but checked by prudence. Twice +he raised his head as if to speak, and twice his eyes wandered. Then +Hannibal spoke again, as if reading the other's thoughts:-- + +"I have also, my father, given orders that funeral honours be paid to +my brother; a pyre rich with woven fabrics and wine and oil and spices, +and, from my own share of the Etruscan spoils, I have chosen a vase +boldly pictured with a combat of heroes." + +Tears gushed anew from the eyes of Calavius at this added evidence of +thoughtful friendship, and once again he embraced his benefactor, but +with somewhat more of dignity, now that the fear of death was removed. + +Suddenly Marcia became conscious of an intruding presence beside her, +and, turning, her eyes fell upon the repulsive features of Iddilcar, +that seemed to sneer through the semi-gloom. She shuddered and drew +back against the wall. Iddilcar held out his arms which the broad +sleeves of his robe left bare to elbow. An expression of eager lust +made his face even more hideous than did the sneer of a moment past. + +"Come, little bird," he said, "and I will charm you. Moon of Tanis! +Lamp of Proserpine! Essence of all the Heavens! do you not see I love +you?--I, Iddilcar, priest of Melkarth. Behold, my robe is dark. It +mourns--not for the fool who died, but because you have not loved me. +Love, and it will gleam again in violet, and all the bracelets that +hung from my arms at the banquet shall be yours." + +She pressed her hands to her face; she felt herself swaying upon her +trembling knees; only the support of the wall saved her from sinking +down. + +After a moment's silence he began again:-- + +"What is an old man, and weak--a sport of foreigners--to me who am +young and strong, and by whose word even the schalischim of Carthage +must march or halt? I, the favoured one of Melkarth, beseech you, a +Roman, for favour, because Adonis wills it. See how I come to you, +unpermitted, from those who cajole each other, and I show you my heart. +Love me! love me! leave this keeper, who is but an old woman, and you +shall be a priestess in Carthage, and the people shall swarm around and +cast their jewels and wealth before you, for the deity--that shall be +you alone; and we shall feast and love and love and feast again in such +splendour as not even Carthage has ever known--" + +She could restrain her feelings no longer; all her resolves seemed to +slip from her in the presence of this man; she thrust out her hands and +turned her head away with a shiver of utter disgust. Her movement was +vague in the dim light, but he saw it, and his face darkened. + +"What is this house?" he exclaimed harshly. "How long will it stand +against me? Shall I not crush its root, even as its branch was torn +off to-day? Filth! vermin! dust! Shall not its flower lie in my bosom +to bloom forever, if she wills--or to bloom for a moment and wither and +be cast away, if she wills not?" + +He strode forward and caught her wrist; his hot breath steamed in her +face. + +"No! no! I _hate_ you! Go!" The words sprang from her lips, without +power to hold them back, and she struggled frantically in his grasp; +she heard his teeth grinding, as, mad with passion, he strove to bind +her arms to her sides. At that moment a rattling of weapons from the +peristyle seemed to bring him to a consciousness of his surroundings. +Releasing her, he half turned, and she sank down in the corner of the +cell. The visit was evidently over, and Hannibal, about to take his +leave, was glancing around, evidently in search of the missing priest. + +Iddilcar spoke low and rapidly:-- + +"I will return at once. Wait me till I come, or I will have you given +to a syntagma of Africans." + +He was out in the peristyle now, bowing low before the captain-general. +Then he whispered in his ear--probably some explanation of his absence, +of how he had been keeping watch against treachery; for Hannibal nodded +several times, and, again embracing Calavius, accepted his escort to +the door, giving his arm to steady the steps of the older man. + + + + +IX. + +THE BAIT. + +Marcia crouched, huddled in the farthest corner of the cell, and +listened to the receding footsteps of the visitors. Then she heard new +sounds echoing through the house: the rushing feet of slaves descending +from their quarters, striving to gain their stations unobserved; the +sharp tongue of Calavius now loosed from the bonds of terror, and +rating them soundly for their unfaithfulness and cowardice; the patter +of excuses and protestations. In a few moments the quarters above +resounded with the shrieks and groans of those condemned to the lash; +for the wrath and indignation of Calavius, generally the mildest of +masters, were spurred to vindictive bitterness by a consciousness of +his late terror and abasement. "They were guilty of all crimes, and, +worst of all, of the rankest ingratitude. Let them learn that their +master was still strong enough to punish." So the scourges fell, and +the victims screamed and writhed. + +All these things Marcia heard, but they meant little to a mind so full +of internal conflict as was hers. What was she to believe of herself? +Had she not marked out a course of self-devotion and sacrifice which +was to gain respite and safety for her country, revenge upon its +enemies? Had not others, notably Decius Magius, been forced +unwillingly to admit the possible efficiency of her plan? Yet now, +when the gods had shown her favour beyond all anticipation--had brought +the chosen quarry into her net--she had thrown all aside and yielded to +her womanly weakness, her instinct of modesty, her sense of personal +repulsion. What right had she to think of herself as a woman! He, for +whose love her sex had been dear to her, was gone--a pallid shade who +could no longer be sensitive to her beauty, a vague being sent far +hence into the land of the four rivers by these very men whom she had +devoted to destruction. What though the virtues that had beaten down +her resolves had been good once--good for Marcia the woman? They were +evil for that Marcia who had resolved to be a heroine, and who was now +learning how hard it is for the female to seek the latter crown without +losing the former. Again and again she struggled with herself, swayed +back and forth by the counter-currents of conflicting shames, until the +thought of death, as a final possibility, revived to steel her purpose. +The sacrifice and the shame would be short, and, in the consciousness +of her work accomplished, she could die, going before the lady +Proserpine with a pure heart that need not fear to meet the eyes of +Sergius when they should ask its secret. + +Rising quickly, she hastened to her chamber by passages where she would +not be likely to meet her host. Whatever intentions he might have +entertained toward her had been effectually suspended, if not +obliterated, by the course of events, and now he was much too busy +setting in order his demoralized household to think of her presence. +Therefore, she reached her apartment unnoticed, and, summoning her +tirewomen, surrendered herself to the tedious process of adornment +according to the accepted taste of Magna Graecia. + +The afternoon was spent, ere all had been finished. Then she ate +hurriedly and with little appetite, drinking deeply of the Lesbian wine +till her cheeks flushed through the rouge, and her eyes sparkled. +Calavius had gone out, busy about affairs of state, and eager to +collect the strained threads of his influence--threads that might be +strengthened by their very straining, in the hands of a politician who +realized how men were ready to grant every complaisance to one whom +they had deserved ill of and whose vengeance they feared. Marcia found +herself wondering whether Iddilcar would indeed return as he had said. +Perhaps her attitude had seemed to him so unfavourable that he would +strike first;--but when and how? Perhaps affairs of state detained him +also. Perhaps, even, this man, Hannibal, whose eye pierced through all +subterfuges, had already divined the danger and set himself to nullify +it. Perhaps--and then, as she was reclining in the larger dining hall, +one of the slaves entered and whispered in her ear. She rose quickly. + +"Tell my lord that she whom he favours awaits him at the hemicycle in +the garden, and guide him to me." + +She spoke, marvelling at her steady tones, and, turning, walked, with +drooping head, to the semicircular, marble seat;--not the single seat, +back amongst the foliage, where she had met Perolla; "the philosopher's +chair," as Calavius had called it laughingly, where his son retired to +commune with thoughts too great for men. Sinking down at one end of +the hemicycle, she studied the carved lion's head that ornamented the +arm-rest, and the paw, thrusting out from the side-support, upon the +pavement beneath. It troubled her that such wonderful handicraft had +not considered that the head was entirely out of proportion with the +paw; and yet, if the former were larger or the latter smaller, surely +they would not fit well in the places they were intended to ornament. +What a provoking dilemma, to be sure--and at such a time, for, glancing +suddenly up, she saw Iddilcar's dark, repulsive features bent upon her +with a terrible intentness. All her former loathing surged back over +her heart with tenfold force, sickening her with its suffocating weight. + +"Light of the two eyes of Baal," he murmured softly. "Look kindly upon +thy servant. Smile upon his love, that thy light and his worship may +be eternal. Behold! for thee I cast aside the worship of the lord +Melkarth!" + +He tore apart his long, violet tunic, showing his throat and bosom hung +with necklaces. His arms, bare to the shoulders, glittered with heavy +bracelets. + +"Lo! the spoils of Italy assigned to my Lord I give to thee,"; and, +taking off necklace and bracelet, he knelt and piled them at her feet, +raising and parting his arms in the attitude of oblation. + +Charmed as by a serpent, Marcia watched him with horrible disgust, yet +unable to turn her eyes aside. + +"What is Tanis to thee!" he went on. "What, Ceres! What, Proserpine! +Ashera! Derceto!--goddesses afar from men--goddesses whom, not seeing, +we worship faintly with sacrifice and ceremony. But thou--thou shalt +dwell forever in the temple upon the Square of Melkarth. Come!" + +Again, and in spite of every resolve, Marcia felt the overmastering +sense of woman's loathing that stood so obstinately between herself and +the rôle she had marked out. It was too much. She could not--could +not suffer this man for a moment, even with the release of swiftly +hastening death before her eyes. She struggled to her feet, groping +about, turning, and, with a stifled scream, she sought to fly; but her +strength refused her even this service. + +In an instant, he was up and beside her; his hand had roughly grasped +her shoulder, half tearing away the cyclas; his little eyes blazed with +vindictive fury; his nostrils dilated; his coarse lips writhed in +hungry passion. + +"Ah, slave! You would escape? Where? where? In this house? Ah, +fool! Could you not measure the comedy of this morning? Do you think +this old imbecile, this man condemned to follow his mouse-killing son, +can protect you from the meanest Nubian in the army? Do you +think--ah!" and he raised his hand, as if to strike. + +Wrenching herself loose by a quick movement, Marcia turned and faced +him with all the blood of the Torquati flushing in her cheeks, all +their fire blazing in her eyes. + +"Dog of a pulse-eater!" she cried, and he shrank back before the +vehemence of her tone. "Do I care what you do? Break your alliance +with these people if you wish--an alliance of fools with fools, knaves +with knaves! Break it, before it be cloven asunder for you by the +sword of Rome. Doubtless your chief will sacrifice all his plans to +your cowardly lust. Kill my protector, tear down his house, and--kill +me!--me, for whom there is neither sowing nor reaping in this matter." + +All his arrogance and violence had vanished, cowed and crushed by her +outbreak; but, even as he cringed before her, the gleam of Oriental +cunning had taken its place. + +"Ah! now, indeed, art thou more beautiful than the lady Tanis," he +muttered, clasping and unclasping his hands, as if in ecstasy. "Now, +indeed, do I love thee." His voice sank to a whisper, and he glanced +about timorously. "And so it is neither sowing nor reaping with you, +my pretty?" he went on. "Fools we may be, but not the fools to be +blind to your sowing--not the fools who shall not root up your seed +before the day of reaping. Did not you, a Roman, counsel Mago to +delay? Did you not, foolish one, even give such counsel at the banquet +of welcome to the schalischim, until I laughed in my cup to see a silly +girl who would cajole men of government and of war?" + +Marcia stood, rigid and pale. All her plans seemed shivering about +her. She was doomed to fail then--fail after all, through the cunning +of these vermin. Still she struggled to retain her composure. + +"Liar!" she said. "Do I not know that if you spoke truth I would +already be buried under hurdles weighted with stones?" + +He laughed softly. "Why?" he asked. "What can you avail, coining lead +for us who perceive its falseness? Nay, you are even of use to +Hannibal, for, by your very eagerness, he has come to Maharbal's +thinking, that all must be done speedily, if we would take Rome. Even +now Capuans work night and day building our engines. Soon they will +set them up before your gates. We shall winter in Rome, as the guests +of the lady Marcia who has invited us. Therefore Hannibal grants you +life and to be a comfort to his friend and father, Pacuvius Calavius, +in his declining years;" and he laughed again, but harshly and +sneeringly. + +Marcia could scarcely keep her feet under the crushing force of these +blows. In what vain manner had she, an inexperienced girl, blind to +all but a noble purpose, contended with men whose cunning had sufficed +to snare the chiefs of her people! Worse even, she had herself forged +the weapons for the destruction of all she had hoped to save. Iddilcar +watched her from under half-closed lids, noting every line of her face, +and reading its struggle and its despair. + +"And so it is wisdom for us to march north at once?" he said softly. + +"How do I know?--a woman?" + +He smiled subtly and ignored the change of front he had wrested from +her. + +"Love me, and I swear by the crown of Melkarth that Hannibal shall +winter in Capua." + +She started, as if from the touch of fire. Had her ears heard words of +his, or was it only a belated thought coursing from her brain to her +heart? + +He stepped nearer and spoke again:-- + +"Love me, pretty one, and Hannibal shall winter in Capua,--yea, though +he hangs on the cross for it,--though all the armies of Carthage become +food for dogs." + +At first she had been dreaming of new snares; but these last words and +the vehemence of his tone brought her to an intuitive realization that +this man was indeed prepared to give up god, country, general, +friends,--all, so only that he might gratify his overmastering passion. +The gods were indeed with her, after all,--were guiding her aright; and +the knowledge steadied her self-control and strengthened her resolve. +What omen of favour could be more potent than this snatching of victory +out of the very hands of ruin--this moulding of ruin into a source of +victory? + +So she spoke, calmly and evenly:-- + +"Perhaps you tell the truth, perhaps folly. How shall I know, any more +than I know of this power to command commanders, of which you make such +silly boast?" + +"Not I---not I, lady," he protested eagerly. "Listen! It is the lord +Melkarth that has always loved the colonies of Phoenicia, first among +which is Carthage. It is he that has guided and guarded us through the +perils of the deep and of the desert, of the skies and of the earth, of +hunger and thirst, of beasts and men. What god equals him in our city! +What god receives such gifts, such incense, such sacrifices! What +though we fear Baal Moloch! Is it not the lord Melkarth whom we love? +It is he who goes before our armies, that he may tell them when to +attack, when to await the foe. I am his priest. Do you understand? I +have spoken his words many times. Now he shall speak mine." + +Marcia could hardly fail to understand the nature of the power which +this man now proposed to lay at her feet; yet it all seemed horribly +impossible that he, a priest, could dare such sacrilege for such end. +Had she been Fabius, Paullus, or even Sergius,--men who were already +groping amid the Greek schools of doubt, and were coming to regard the +religion of the state more as an invaluable means of curbing the vices +of the low and ignorant than as a divine light for the learned,--had +she been such as these, this proposal of Iddilcar would have seemed +incredible only on account of its treason to his country. And yet, in +one sense, she was better fitted than they to understand the +Carthaginian. True scepticism had found little room under the mantle +of the gloomy, the terrible cult that swayed the destinies of the +Chanaanitish races. Even the priests, while they were ready enough to +use the people's faith to minister to their own ends, trembled before +their savage gods. Low, brutish, full of inconsistent wiles their +faith might be, but such faith it was as an educated Roman could with +difficulty comprehend. On the other hand, the minds of the women of +Rome had not as yet swerved from unquestioning belief in the gods +consulting and the gods apart, and the Torquati were most conservative +among all the great houses. From childhood up--and in years she was +scarcely more than a child--all these had been very real to her. +Pomona wandered through every orchard beside her beloved Vertumnus; Pan +and his sylvan brood sported behind the foliage of every copse. She +would as soon have thought of questioning their presence as of doubting +her own being. Marcia believed; the average Roman patrician affected +to believe and indulged in his polite, Hellenic doubts; the +Carthaginian priest, while he believed, with all Marcia's fervour, in a +theology to which Marcia's was tender as the divine fellowship of the +Phaeacians, yet conceived that it was entirely legitimate to play +tricks upon his fiend-gods--to pit his cunning against theirs. If they +caught him, perhaps they would laugh, perhaps consume him in the flames +of their wrath. It depended on their mood--whether they had dined +well, perhaps; and he would take his chances. He stood, now, toward +his deities, just where the heroes of Homer had stood centuries before. +He was a living evidence of the Asiatic birth of Greek theology--only, +in the Asian races, religious feeling was not religious thought, did +not arise from the mind or change, like the cults of Europe, as the +mind that evolved or adopted them developed and outgrew its offspring. + +So it was that, while Marcia, but for her instinctive realization of +the truth, might have been utterly unable to credit the sincerity of +such prodigious wickedness, yet, armed with this intuition as a +starting-point, she sought for and found reasons to support it. The +purity of her own faith came to her aid. Perhaps the Punic gods were +mere demons, as they seemed to be, and Iddilcar knew it and relied for +protection upon the mightier gods of Rome. In a sense, she reasoned on +false premises, but her conclusion was, none the less, more accurate +than would have been that of either Paullus or Sergius. For the time, +at least, Iddilcar was entirely sincere. To be sure, if he could gain +his end by mere promises, he preferred to deceive Marcia rather than +Melkarth, but his plotting had not gotten so far as that yet. Now, his +fierce, Oriental nature was consuming with that passion which, in it, +took the place of all love. This Roman woman had aroused desires that +he had never known in the gardens of Ashera; her face was to the faces +of the courtesans who thronged the sacred woods on feast days, as the +glory of the crescent moon was to the sputter of the rancid oil in the +lamp that illumined the cell of Fancula Cluvia. Cunning beyond his +race, learned in the strange learning of the East that had come to a +few in Egypt and to fewer yet in Phoenicia, Iddilcar read the struggle +that was taking place in the girl's mind. + +"What do I care for Hannibal!" he cried; "for the Great Council! for +Carthage! I would give them all to you for one kiss. To him who has +learned all secret knowledge, the mind alone is God and city and home +and friends,--everything, everything save love," and his voice, harsh, +and strident, sank to a whisper in which was compassed all the +fierceness of ungoverned and ungovernable desire. + +Marcia knew, now, that he was speaking the truth; that he would indeed +stop at nothing; and, with the certainty, there came to her a strange +mingling of exultation, terror, and calm. She saw this man, powerful +with the power of the conqueror, learned with the learning of the +student and of the ascetic, grovelling here at her feet--slave to a +force against which no power, no philosophy could avail. She saw him +crawl to her and press her robe to his lips; she heard him mumbling and +whining like some animal, and she despised him and grew stronger in the +light of her growing self-esteem. At last she spoke. + +"It is well. I have listened and determined. Yes, you are right. I +have wished that the army should not march north; I have wished that it +should winter in Campania. I am a Roman; why should I not wish it? +You say you can accomplish this. Do so, and you shall have your +reward." + +Iddilcar sprang to his feet and threw out his arms to draw her to him; +the breath came from his chest in short gasps; his eyes were suffused +with tears through which he saw something glitter; and his hands, +clutching and unclutching, caught only air. Then his arms fell to his +sides; he paused and looked stupidly at her. She had sprung back and +was facing him defiantly with a short dagger raised to strike. + +"Not so soon, slave," she said, and her voice rang in his ears like +steel. "He who would reap must first sow." + +"You do not love me," he said sheepishly, gnashing his teeth because he +knew the foolishness of his words, and yet could say no others. + +She laughed; then her face grew sober. + +"No," she said; "I do not love you. Why should I? We love those who +serve us well--" + +"Ah! but I have promised," he broke in. "I am giving you everything." + +"I want but one thing," she said, while the lines of her mouth +hardened; "and, for that, I take no promise." + +He lowered his head to avoid the straight flash of her eyes. + +"It is I, then, who must trust--always I," he muttered. "How do I know +you will give yourself when I earn you?--how do I know you will not +kill yourself with that dagger? for you hate me," and then, with sudden +fierceness; "why should I not take my own? What hinders me?" + +"This," said Marcia, touching the point with her finger. + +Iddilcar shuddered. + +"Listen now," she began, "and be reasonable. I have named my price, +and you have said it is not too much. Why speak of love or hate? Earn +me and take me." + +"Yes," he echoed; for he was braver when his eyes studied the pavement; +"why speak of love or hate? It is you I want--your kisses, your +embraces. Who shall say that hatred may not flavour them better even +than love?" and he sneered. "Ah! but how shall I know?" + +"I am a Roman, and I have promised. Fulfil your Punic word as well, +and I swear you shall have your pay, so surely,"--and then the memory +of another day, happier, but oh! so bitterly regretted, came to her +mind,--"so surely as Orcus sends not the dead back from Acheron. Now +go." + +He drew back, step by step, still facing her, longing to rebel, yet not +daring, cringing, skulking like a whipped cur. He reached the end of +the path; the entrance to the garden was behind him. He raised his +clenched hand to the heavens. "Ah, Melkarth!" burst from his lips, +and, turning, he plunged into the house, running. + +Marcia listened eagerly to the fall of his sandals. They died away, +and the distant door creaked. Tears filled her eyes, and, shivering in +every muscle, she sank down upon the seat and buried her face in her +hands. + + + + +X. + +MELKARTH. + +Two moons had waxed and waned; Pacuvius Calavius had dined in his +winter triclinium for the first time this year, and Marcia was +rejoicing at the omen. She watched her host, as he lay back upon his +couch, and noted with pity the change that had come over him. When he +had greeted her coming, he had seemed not very much past middle age--a +brisk man, well preserved in mind and body. Now he was old--very +old--and the pallor and wrinkles were prominent through the flush of +the wine and the paint with which he strove to hide them. Even his +ambition was dead; he hardly sought the Senate House, but, stopping +within doors, maundered querulously and unceasingly to Marcia, to his +servants, to any one who would listen to him, of the blunders that were +being made, and of how war and negotiations should be conducted, +speaking always as a man for whom such things had no personal interest. +The diadem of Italy that had once blinded his eyes to good faith and +oaths of alliance, had melted away in the flames of the pyre that +consumed his son. As for Marcia, she had come to regard him with +something of that indulgent consideration which we feel for the aged +and infirm. His former attitude toward herself, which had filled her +with contempt and disgust, had vanished utterly, and, in its place, was +a fatherly kindness that had now no nearer object upon which to lavish +itself. As for the household, what little discipline had once +pertained, was gone. The slaves were no longer punished, and, +slavelike, they presumed upon their master's gentleness or +indifference. They pilfered right and left; they neglected duties and +orders; until, at last, a large measure of the care of her host and his +house devolved upon Marcia alone; and Marcia, also, had softened and +grown kindlier, and was as slow to ask for punishments as was Calavius +to decree them. They seemed like two who were awaiting death, and +would not add to the measure of human misery, knowing, from their own, +how great this was. + +"Let them enjoy a false freedom for a few days longer," said Calavius. +"Soon we shall be gone, and then--who knows? I have no heirs, and the +state may not deal so kindly with them." Strangely enough, he seemed +always to assume Marcia's coming death along with his own; and when she +gazed into her mirror, its story moulded well with that reflected in +the mirror of her thoughts. + +She had grown thin--very thin--and pale, and her eyes burned, large and +luminous, as with the fires of fever. Her lips, too, were redder even +than when the blood had tinted them with hues of more perfect vigour. + +Hannibal had continued to preserve the attitude of respectful +consideration which had marked his demeanour on that day of which they +never spoke. He still greeted Calavius as, "father," when he came to +ask about his health, and on the days when he did not come, he sent +some Carthaginian of rank, generally Iddilcar, to make courteous +inquiries in his stead. + +Calavius, on the other hand, complained continuously of the +schalischim's delay, and Hannibal listened with downcast face, frowning +to himself, and made no answer except that he was the servant of the +gods. Marcia's presence he entirely ignored. Still, he spent little +of his time in Capua, and of this Calavius was now speaking. + +"Truly did you note the news we have received to-day, my daughter? Two +of the new engines destroyed before Casilinum!--Casilinum, forsooth!--a +paltry village, against which the Capuan children would hardly deign to +march! It is Rome--Rome--Rome that calls--and this great general, this +conqueror, sits down before Nuceria, Acerrae, Nola, Casilinum. Soon, +mark me," and his eyes gleamed prophetic, "Rome will sit down before +Capua: and then, receive thou me, O Death, who art my friend and +well-wisher!" + +Marcia wondered at this vehemence, so different from his manner through +all these weeks. + +"But the omens, my father," she said, after a moment's pause. "I have +heard that the gods of Carthage forbid the march north. Perhaps they +fear to contend with the gods of Rome at the foot of their own hills." + +"Tush! girl," exclaimed Calavius, impatiently. "Who does not know that +the gods say such words as their thievish priests filch from them. +Mark now this fellow that comes from the captain-general. Do you not +see how the fingers of his left hand clutch and unclutch? Were +Hannibal to crucify him and a few like, his gods might utter more +favouring responses. Meanwhile, our engines that should thunder at +your Capenian Gate are consumed before mud heaps; and who knows but all +the time some tree grows stouter that it may bear the weight of this +Hannibal, the slave of gods that should be taught their place and their +duties." + +Marcia, despite her complicity, listened, shuddering, to these +sacrilegious words; and, mingled with her shrinking from a philosophy +that dared to talk of the immortals as mere means to be used or cast +aside as human ends might dictate, was a terror lest similar reasoning +should at last find place in Hannibal's mind and thus bring to naught +her aims and her sacrifices. It was easy to see how the general chafed +at the unwonted delay, and with what willingness he listened when +another spoke the words which he himself dared not utter. + +Calavius had but just finished his tirade when they both turned at a +slight noise and saw Iddilcar standing in the entrance of the room. +How long he had been there--what he had heard, neither knew, but his +face wore the subtle smile which, though well-nigh native to its lines, +yet seemed always to bear some hidden import. + +"The favour of Melkarth and of the Baalim be with you!" he said softly. +"Your servants, my Pacuvius, are not over-well trained. There was no +offer to bear word of my coming--no offer of attendance. The porter +hardly deigned to swing the door for me." + +Marcia, knowing Iddilcar as she did, was prompt to take this speech in +the light of an explanation of his eavesdropping; but the once sharp +intelligence of Calavius had been too much deadened to search for +secondary meanings. + +"I am an old man, priest," he said querulously. "Why should I leave +stripes and crying behind me?" + +Iddilcar shrugged his shoulders. "That may be," he replied, "but if we +had such servants as yours in Carthage we should send their shades +ahead of us." + +He had indeed deftly parried any attack or inquiry. Then, suddenly, +and of his own accord, he turned back to strike. + +"And so you have been condemning the piety of the schalischim? the +integrity of the college of priests? the truth of the gods themselves, +for aught I know? Have a care!"--he was lashing himself into a +fury--"I have listened to your words. If I reported them, how long +before you would both be sent to Carthage to keep comradeship with that +terrible fellow, Decius Magius? Have care! have care lest the gods +strike through me, their servant. Nevertheless the gods are merciful +to those who bring offerings--peace-offerings of gold and jewels and +raiment and spices. Come, what will you give me that I smother their +wrath--I, Iddilcar, your friend, whom you speak ill of behind his +back--whom you hate---yes, both of you;" and his eyes flashed at Marcia +with a strange recklessness that she had never seen in them. + +Wondering and terrified, she listened to his outburst of rage, but +Calavius heard it calmly, and answered, without troubling himself to +probe its import. + +"You shall have a talent of silver and such jewels as you choose," he +said, rising. "I will go and give the orders." + +"Orders!" sneered the other; but to Marcia it seemed that the word and +look covered suspicion at the ready acquiescence of the Capuan. + +"Then I will go with you and see that these orders are obeyed. Come; +ah!--" and he turned to Marcia; "and will you be here when I return? I +wish to speak with you." + +She inclined her head, still wondering, and when they had left the room +her wonder deepened. Surely a change had taken place. A Carthaginian +was always said to love money, but for Iddilcar to seek to obtain it by +such crude and violent means, from a man whom his general professed to +honour and protect, seemed to augur something of which she knew not. +Either Hannibal's protection was to be, for some reason, withdrawn, or +else?--but what else could embolden the priest to such license? The +look, too, with which he had regarded herself! She had restrained him +with some difficulty during the past months, but now she felt +instinctively that her control had vanished. Even violence seemed +near; for that Iddilcar could be fool enough to dream that his mere +repetition of the words he had listened to, would enrage Hannibal, she +did not for a moment believe. The general had heard the same from +Calavius, face to face, and had only frowned and bit his lips behind +his beard, as if feeling their justice. What, then, could have +happened? + +"Ah! you are still here." + +She looked up quickly, and saw that the priest had returned alone. He +went on, speaking quickly and nervously, but in low tones:-- + +"The time has come. And so you were thinking, thinking of what? Was +it rejoicing that Tanis was to give you to me so soon?" and he showed +his teeth, like a dog. "Listen: they suspect me. I have done all as +you wished, but there was a council to-day in the camp before +Casilinum, and Maharbal fell on his knees, as he did after Cannae, and +begged to march north,--not with the cavalry alone, as then; he knew it +was too late for that: and the schalischim knit his brows and frowned. +Then Hasdrubal and Karthalo added their prayers and pleadings, +gathering around him, and then he turned his sombre face to me, and +asked if it was permitted; but, before I could answer, for my mind was +disturbed, that animal whom they call, 'The Fighter' had drawn his +sword and held it over my head, crying out: 'Yes, friends, it is +permitted--see! It is permitted;' and then I felt myself grow pale, +and I heard the great beast laugh. A moment later and Hannibal had +ordered him to put up his sword, and I saw Maharbal whispering quick +words in the general's ear, among which it seemed to me that his lips +formed your name. Again, Hannibal asked: 'Is it permitted, Iddilcar? +or what sacrifice will your lord have from us? Have we not served him +faithfully? Is there aught he wishes?' and I felt all their eyes on +me; but, above all, were yours that were soon to smile. Therefore I +took courage, which the lord Melkarth granted, and spoke boldly, +explaining that I had as yet been able to win no favour, though I had +prayed long and fasted and lashed myself with thongs, whereupon +Hannibal-the-Fighter made as if to tear off my mantle, laughing in his +beard; and when I saw they did not believe me, my terror came back. +Then it was that Melkarth shed wisdom upon his servant, and, after a +moment's thought, I spoke up, thus:-- + +"'Listen, lords,' I said; 'I am a native Carthaginian, like you all, +and I reverence the gods. Howbeit it may chance that here, beyond the +sea, it is not so easy to win their favour, so that they shall go +before us. New and strange sacrifices and pleadings wherein I am +untaught may be needed to pierce the denser ether of this land. Truly, +lords, as ye have not failed in piety, neither have I erred in +divination, for Melkarth has spoken many times, telling me of the +unnumbered woes that would overwhelm the army if it marched upon Rome +unbidden, and he hath spoken truth, and I have saved you to revile me +for it--only I would learn if there be yet speech better fitted to his +ear.' I paused, and they were silent, wondering. Then I spoke on: +'Grant me, lords, three days, that I may journey to Cumae; for I have +heard that a woman dwells there, wise in the ways of the gods, and, if +I bear her rich presents, it may happen that she will teach me the +words that shall pierce this dull air, even to where Baal-Melkarth sits +enthroned in Mappalia, that he may grant all your wishes.' So I +crossed my arms upon my breast, and, bowing my head, listened. 'At +Cumae?' growled Jubellius Taurea, who sat near me, 'say, rather, at the +house of Pacuvius Calavius,' and I felt myself trembling, for then I +knew surely that I had heard Maharbal aright, and that I was suspected. +Still, I stood fast, and at last Hannibal spoke: 'Go to Cumae for three +days,' he said sternly. 'Take what you wish--one talent, two, three; +only bring back the words that shall win favour;' and Hasdrubal added: +'And harken! lord; if you win not favour, we shall yet march, and +peradventure you shall come with us--if they drive not the nails too +deep;' but there was an outcry at this, for they trembled lest Melkarth +should smite them, and Hasdrubal spoke again, grumbling: 'Ah, masters, +you have not seen soldiers as I have seen them, becoming bloated with +wine and food, and soft in the arms of courtesans;' but Hannibal +interrupted him, crying out to me again: 'Go!--go! There is little +time for the march, and it may be we are already too late. Go and do +all things so that the lord, Baal-Melkarth, shall favour us.' So I +went out, and, having taken their talents, I am here. This old sheep +has disgorged another talent together with gems. Therefore come now +and we shall escape hence." + +Marcia saw a dimness before her, amid which his jewels and bracelets +and earrings seemed to mingle strange glancings with the fires that +burned in his eyes. At last she faltered:-- + +"But your work?--it is not finished. How shall I know?--if I go with +you?--" + +The rings on his hand were sinking deep into her wrist; his lips were +close to her ear. + +"Ah! you will not go? You will play with me--deceive me? Listen now. +To-morrow I shall be here with horses and money--in the morning--very +early--before light; and you will go like a little bird that is tamed. +These days will give us time to gain more, if more be needed. Look! I +have hazarded all. Shall I lose my reward now because my work be +unfinished by ever so little? It may be that, having gone, I shall not +return. Do you think I will leave you here to laugh at me? You will +go, or, to-morrow, Baal-Melkarth shall speak the word, and, before +midday, Hannibal shall give orders to march to Rome. Why do you think +I have gathered this wealth? Look! I have risked all for it, and you +shall not escape." + +Exhausted by his rapid vehemence, he stood back, breathing hard and +trying to smile. + +"Ah! moon of Tanis, you will come," he murmured, holding out his arms. +"We shall escape to Sicily--to Greece--to Egypt--to the far East. We +shall be rich with the spoils of fools--" + +A slight scraping noise came to their ears, and both started. Iddilcar +sprang swiftly to the entrance of the room, but the lamp in the hall +had gone out, and his eyes saw nothing in the darkness. Uncertain what +to do, he looked back to where Marcia stood, pale and rigid. His voice +and hands trembled as he repeated in a loud whisper:-- + +"You will come? You will be ready?" + +"Yes," she said, "I will come;" but she did not look at him, as she +spoke, only she caught the triumphant gleam of his eyes; a thousand +weird lights seemed to whirl around her, and she felt herself sinking. +It seemed, for a moment, as if a slave in a gray tunic was supporting +her, and then all consciousness fled. + + + + +XI. + +THE SLAVE. + +It was an hour past midnight, when Marcia first knew the agony of +returning reason. The gong in the Forum had just struck. Where was +she? Surely in her own apartment! How had she come there? Then, +slowly, the memory of yesterday grew clear--the awful duty of +to-morrow. With eyelids fast shut, as if dreading to open them to the +darkness, she buried her throbbing temples beneath the rich Campanian +coverlid. She could still see the eyes of Iddilcar gleaming wolfish +amid his jewels; could see him standing in the doorway, as he turned +from that startled rush in pursuit of what had been, doubtless, only a +whisper of their imaginations. He had said he would come for +her--before daybreak--and she must be ready. Later, she could approach +death with suppliant hands, but now she must be ready. Her life was +not her own yet. It was her country's. Later, the shade of Lucius +would beckon. Surely he would forgive her for having avenged him. But +how had she reached her room? Had it been Calavius or the slaves who +had found her? did they suspect? Then she remembered the man who had +seemed to catch her as she fell. Where could Iddilcar have been then? +Had he hurried away? probably enough. Again a slight scratching noise, +as of some one softly changing his position,--like the sound which had +startled the priest, came to her ears. Ah, protecting gods! what was +true, and what but dreams? Her whole life was passing before her, +phantasmagorial and unreal. Surely some one was present! She _felt_ +it. Had Iddilcar come already? The horror of the thought gave her +courage, and, thrusting down the coverlid, she opened her eyes +defiantly and tried to pierce the darkness. Nothing was visible, but +she knew she was not alone, and, leaning upon one elbow, she reached +out, groping. + +Suddenly a hand grasped hers, a strong, bony hand, gripping it tightly, +and by its very energy commanding silence. It seemed strange to her +that she did not scream, but then she had known that she would find +some one, and had the hand been Iddilcar's, she would certainly have +realized it by the loathing in her soul. For her, now, all other men +had become friends. Therefore she was not frightened, did not cry +out--rather it was a soothing sense of companionship that came to +her--almost of reliance. Why had this man come?--perhaps to help her; +surely not to injure. Who was he? man or god? Gods had appeared to +those of olden times, when the Republic was young, and Romans +worshipped, believing. She felt very brave--fearless. + +"Who are you?" she whispered. + +"I am a slave," answered a voice. "I brought you here, and I am +watching." + +It was a voice that, while it rang hard, yet had in it an assurance of +protection--even of power, and it thrilled her as with some familiar +memory. Nevertheless she could not place its owner in the household. +Calavius had many slaves; a few of them had been free-born, and some, +perhaps, might even have known a measure of social standing, before the +turn of war or of financial fortunes had lost them to home and position. + +"Who are you?" she asked again. + +"I am a new servant," said the other. "Pacuvius Calavius bought me +yesterday in the Street of the Whitened Feet." + +She was silent a moment, trying hard to think; she felt the man's hand +trembling, and then, suddenly realizing, she drew her own away. + +"And yet you are going to-morrow with this beast--this animal!" said +the voice, bitterly. + +Startled again by the tone and accent, no less than by the words, she +burst out:-- + +"Ah! why do you say that?--but you do not know, and I cannot tell you. +Yes, you are right. I am going away to-morrow. I am--a courtesan. +What then?" + +"By the gods! no!" he cried, and she heard him spring to his feet. +Then, lowering his voice, "If I thought _that_, I would kill you." + +"You would only forestall my own blow," she said quietly, and there was +new silence. + +At last he spoke again. + +"Tell me all of this matter. You are safe. I am a Roman." + +"A Roman--and a slave?" + +"And a slave. Tell me the truth quickly." + +The voice sounded weak and hollow now, but still strangely familiar. +She began her story, speaking in a low monotone. + +"I am Marcia, daughter of Titus Manlius Torquatus. I loved, and yet I +drove my lover from me, and he was killed on the black day of Cannae. +Then the Senate feared lest the enemy should advance to Rome--prayed +for the winter--for time. And I was beautiful, and I had no love, save +for the king, Orcus. So the thought came to me that by my +blandishments I might win power with these people, and, by power, +delay, and, by delay, safety for Rome--and revenge for my lord, Lucius. +Therefore I journeyed to Capua. You see that I have played my +part--that I have won? Tomorrow I go to pay the price. What matters +it? Then I can die." + +He had listened in silence; only she heard his breath coming hard, and, +a moment after she had finished, he spoke:-- + +"No--you cannot die--not thus. _I_ have died--once, yet I live. +Listen! I, like the lover you tell of, was slain at Cannae, pierced +through by javelins, and I lay with the dead heaped above me--ah! so +many hours--days, perhaps--I do not know; until the slave-dealers, +passing among the corpses, found me breathing, and wondered at my +strength, auguring a good value. Therefore they took me, and when I +was well of my wounds they brought me here--to Capua, and sold me to +Pacuvius Calavius--to whom may the gods give the death of a traitor! +Lo! now, let it be for a warning that Orcus does indeed send back the +dead from Acheron." + +He leaned forward, as he spoke the words, and there came to Marcia a +sudden memory of two occasions when she had used the ancient +saying--the colloquial "never" of Rome. Once it had bound her to +Iddilcar, and once, far back, in happier times, it had parted her +forever from Sergius. Tears rolled down her cheeks. A dim light +seemed to be creeping into the room--very dim, but as her eyes grew dry +again, she could begin to trace the outlines of her companion sitting +on a low stool beside her couch. Surely those were footsteps in the +hall--yes, footsteps--and the approaching light of a lamp. + +Marcia's heart stood still. The slave had started from his seat and +drawn far back in the darkest corner of the room; then the curtains +were pushed cautiously aside, and the tall form of Iddilcar stood +revealed by the light of the small, silver lamp he bore in his hand. A +long, dark mantle enveloped him from head to foot. + +"Come," he said, speaking sharply but in low tones; and, holding the +lamp above his head, he tried to peer into the apartment. "Come; it +will soon be light. Ah! you have not arisen? No matter; I have +another cloak, and we must not delay. The slaves are well bribed, and +Calavius sleeps soundly--forever. My horses, good horses, are in the +street; a few moments and we gain the gate. The schalischim's own ring +is on my finger, and the seal of the Great Council shall win us egress. +_You_ are my slave: that is how you shall go with me--and I accept the +omen." + +He laughed low and harshly, and Marcia shuddered, thinking of her host +lying slain--by his false slaves?--by the order of Hannibal?--no, +rather by the hand or plotting of this wretch who now called her, +"slave." + +"Come, come quickly, Romanus," he said, mimicking the Latin +nomenclature of foreign slaves. At the same time he took a step +forward into the room and let the curtains fall behind him. "Come, or +I shall have to order the rods to those white shoulders. That would +be--" + +And then a shadow seemed to glide forward from the corner half behind +him. For a moment a stream of lamplight fell upon a white, set face +behind the Carthaginian's shoulder--a face that was indeed from the +land of the four rivers; an arm was lashed around the priest's neck, +and, while Marcia stared spellbound at the shade that had come back to +save her, the lamp fell from Iddilcar's hand,--and then she lay still +and listened to the furious struggle that ensued, the scuffling of feet +upon the marble floor, the breathing that came and went in short, quick +gasps. Now it seemed that both fell together; but not in victory or +defeat, for the noises told of continuing combat; no words, only the +horrible sound of writhing and of hard-drawn breath. + +Breaking at last from the bonds of dazed wonder, she glided from the +couch, groping for the fallen lamp. She must _see_. She must _know_. +Then she remembered the room-lamp that stood on a stand by the bed, and +began to feel her way toward it. The grating of metal against metal +came to her ears, followed by a low exclamation and a sharp "Ah!" +gasped exultantly; then came the sound of two fierce blows. + +She had found the lamp now, and was trying to strike a light. The +victory was still undecided, though the combatants seemed to groan with +each breath they drew. At last the wick caught the spark, and the +mellow light and the odour of perfumed oil began slowly to fill the +room. A statuette or vase came crashing to the floor, and, raising the +lamp high above her head, she threw its light upon the struggling men. +For a moment she could make out nothing except a dark mass at her feet. +Then she caught the glitter of a weapon, and at last her eyes grasped +something of the situation. + +Iddilcar was undermost. She could see his black, curling beard that +seemed matted and ragged now, while the Roman--the man who bore the +face of the dead Sergius--was extended upon him, grasping, with both +hands, the Carthaginian's wrists. It was the latter who held the blade +that had glittered--a long Numidian dagger, but the hold upon his +wrists prevented his using it, and the Roman dared not release either +hand to wrench it away. There were bruises, too, on Iddilcar's +face--the blows of fists; but the blood on the floor told of some other +wound, doubtless the Roman's, inflicted before he could restrain the +hand that dealt it. Now, neither seemed able to accomplish further +injury, until the strength of one should fail; and if it was her +protector's blood that was flowing?--the thought was ominous. Neither +dared to cry out, for the aid that might come was too doubtful, and, +besides, they needed to husband all the air their lungs could gain. + +Marcia saw these things and thought them clearly, quickly, and in +order. Her mind seemed to grow as strangely calm as if busied in +selecting some shade of wool for her distaff. She reached down and, by +a quick movement, twisted the dagger from the stiffened, weary fingers +of the Carthaginian. A cry burst from him--the first since the +triumphant "Ah!" that had doubtless come from his lips when he used the +weapon, a few moments since. He writhed furiously, and Marcia stood, +holding the dagger in her hand, hesitating rather through dread of +injuring this new Sergius that had arisen to aid her. + +The Roman, however, seeing himself freed from the necessity of guarding +against the sharp point that had menaced him, now suddenly released the +wrists of his adversary, and, grasping him by the throat, he lifted his +head several times, and struck it violently against the pavement. The +Carthaginian groaned, and his hold relaxed for a moment. Then, tearing +himself free, and with one hand still gripping the throat of the +prostrate man, the Roman raised his body, and, turning toward Marcia, +reached out for the dagger. With eyes fixed wonderingly on his, she +gave it to him, as if only half conscious of her act. + +Again the scene changed. Less helpless than he had seemed, and with +staring eyes, before which death danced, Iddilcar gathered all his +remaining strength for one last, despairing effort, wrenched himself +loose, and staggered to his feet. + +Then Marcia saw Sergius, for she knew now it was indeed he, saw him +throw himself forward on his knees, and, catching Iddilcar about the +hips, plunge the blade into his side. + +The priest shrieked once, as he felt the point, and struggled furiously +to escape, raining blows upon the other's head and shoulders. Again +the long dagger rose and fell, piercing the man's entrails. Gods! +would he never fall?--and still he maintained his footing, but now his +hands beat only the air, and his struggles became agonized writhings. +Sergius' grip about his hips had never loosened, and the dagger rose +and fell a third time. Iddilcar groaned long and deeply and sank down +in a heap, carrying his slayer with him. + + + + +XII. + +FLIGHT. + +Slowly Sergius disengaged himself from the death grip that entangled +him, and, rising, turned to where Marcia stood. Still holding the +lighted lamp above her head and peering forward, she gazed into his +eyes with a look wherein wonder and terror were mingled with awakening +joy. + +"Who are you?" she faltered at last; "you who come as a slave, bearing +the face of a shade?" + +"I _am_ a shade," he answered; "one sent back by Orcus--by the hand of +Mercury, to save a Roman woman from dishonour." + +"Oh, my lord Lucius!" she cried, falling upon her knees and holding out +her hands toward him. "Truly it was not dishonour to avenge you, to +save the Republic; but if it were, then may your manes pity and forgive +me. There, now, is the dagger. Take it and use it, so that I, too, +may be your companion when you return to the land that owns you. I +love you, Lucius; the laughter of the old days has passed. Surely a +woman who is about to die may say to the dead words which a girl might +not say to her lover for the shame of them. I love you--I love you. +Take me before the maiden, Proserpine, that she may show us favour--to +your land--" + +The lamp fell from her hand; she felt herself raised suddenly from the +pavement, and strained hard against a bosom that rose and fell with all +the pulsations of life and love. Frightened, wondering, she struggled +faintly, while kisses warm and human fell upon her brow, her eyes, her +lips. + +"Marcia, little bird, dearest, purest, best," murmured a voice close to +her ear; "yes, you shall go with me to my land, and that land is Rome." + +Still she trembled in his arms, not daring to believe. + +"Wait," he said. Then, releasing her for a moment, he regained the +fallen lamp, relighted it and placed it in its niche, facing her again +with arms outspread. + +"Look well; am I not indeed Lucius Sergius--once pierced and worn with +wounds, but now well and strong to fight or love? The tale I told you +was true. It was my tale--the saving of one Roman from the slaughter +of her legions." + +She drew closer and looked again into his eyes. + +"Yes," she said, and in her voice the joy began to sweep away all other +feelings; "yes, you are indeed Lucius Sergius Fidenas--man, not shade--" + +But, taking her hand, he interrupted:-- + +"Do you not remember the omen, my Marcia? how you said you would love +me when Orcus should send back the dead from Acheron? how I accepted +it? how the gods have brought all about, as was most to their honour +and my joy?--for now you have indeed said that you love me." + +She placed her free hand upon his shoulder saying:-- + +"And that which I, Marcia, daughter of Titus Manlius Torquatus, have +said unto the shade, that say I to the living Lucius Sergius. Take me, +love; for where thou art Caius, there shall I be Caia." + +Once again he took her in his arms and kissed her upon the lips, long +and tenderly. Then she drew herself back. + +"You are wounded?" she said anxiously. "Forgive me that I forgot. +Truly I forget all things, now--in this wonder and joy." + +Sergius laughed. + +"He pricked me--in the thigh, I think, but not deeply. The gods have +brought me so close to the shades that I am enough akin to them not to +heed little hurts." + +But she had seized the lamp and was examining his injury--a flesh wound +that, while it had bled freely, yet seemed to have avoided the larger +muscles and blood-vessels. + +"Did I not tell you?" he said reassuringly, as she rose from her knee. +"A close bandage so that it will not bleed--that is all we shall want, +for my strength must remain with me yet a little while, if we would +truly go to Rome and not to the realms of the dead." + +She said nothing, but, tearing strips from her stole, proceeded deftly +to bind them around the leg. + +"Agathocles himself could not do better--nay, I doubt Aesculapius--" +but she rose again quickly and placed her finger upon his lips. + +"It is the gods who have saved us to each other. Do not make them +angry, lest they withdraw their favour. I am ready to follow you, my +lord Lucius." + +Standing erect, he raised both hands in invocation. + +"A shrine to Venus the Preserver!--to Apollo the Healer!" + +Then, stooping quickly, he drew the long, dark robe of Iddilcar from +where it lay entangled about the legs of the corpse. Fortunately it +had slipped down from the Carthaginian's shoulders early in the +struggle; perhaps he had tried to free himself from it; perhaps it had +been partly torn away; but, in either event, it had fallen where it +must have hampered his movements even more seriously, and where it was +less stained with his blood than might have been expected. + +Sergius threw it over his own tattered, blood-stained garments, +striving to hide the rents, and raising it high about his neck so as to +conceal his face as much as possible. Meanwhile, Marcia, having bound +on her sandals, had of her own accord donned the mantle Iddilcar had +brought for her, and which had fallen by the door of the apartment. +Then, gathering up her long, thick hair, she confined it close above +her head, drawing down upon it the hat that lay beside the cloak--a +broad-brimmed Greek petasus, admirably adapted for concealment as well +as protection. + +"I am ready," she said eagerly. "Let us make haste." + +Sergius was stooping over the dead man, searching for something. + +"It is the ring," he said; "the ring with the seal of the Great Council +of which he spoke. How else should we pass the guard at the gate?" + +A moment later he rose, and, going to the light, examined carefully the +several rings taken from the priest's-fingers. + +One by one they dropped and rolled away over the floor. The last only +remained, and Marcia, looking over his shoulder, saw a heavy, gold +signet bearing the device of a horse under a palm tree. + +"Come now," he said, taking her hand. He had thrust the long knife of +Iddilcar into the girdle of his tunic, and this was their only weapon. +So, leading Marcia, he quickly traversed the halls and courts and +gained the door, which hung ajar and unattended. Outside, a company of +five men were gathered, all mounted. Two were apparently soldiers, a +sort of guard; the rest were servants. Heavy looking packages were +bound, behind them, on their horses' backs, doubtless the money which +Iddilcar had gotten, while two extra animals, saddled and bridled, were +held in waiting. + +The heart of Sergius leaped as he noted the fine, small heads and +slender, muscular legs that marked the Asian stock of their mounts. +Iddilcar had provided well for all emergencies; but Sergius felt some +anxiety lest a chance glimpse of his face might lead to detection. The +sky in the east was already beginning to lighten, and there were more +men of the escort than he had anticipated. Speech would be fatal; +therefore he strode quickly out, took the bridle of one of the horses +from the man who held it, and swung himself upon its back. To assist +Marcia could not be done without exciting suspicion, and he ground his +teeth when she tried to follow his example, and one of the servants +laughed and pushed her roughly into the saddle. Then they rode on, and +the others followed, whispering together. + +He had muffled his face a trifle too closely, perhaps, and he had +mounted the horse standing, whereas all knew that the Cappadocians were +trained to kneel at the word. Therefore the men of the escort +wondered, though they hardly ventured to suspect. + +Marcia felt, rather than noted, their attitude, and Sergius, glancing +toward her, saw that she was trembling. He urged his horse faster +toward the gate that opened upon the Appian Way; boldness and speed +were all that could save them. Suddenly the gate loomed up, gray and +massive, in the mist of the early morning. Several soldiers lounged +forward from the guardhouse, whence came the rattle of dice and the +shrill laughter of a woman. Sergius showed his ring and said nothing, +while Marcia came close to him, shivering, for the morning air was +chill and biting. Their followers had drawn rein, and were gathered in +a little clump several spear-lengths behind. + +Meanwhile the soldiers, Spaniards they seemed, were gazing stupidly at +the device on the seal and making irrelevant comments. It was evident +that their night had been spent among the wineskins, and that a new +danger menaced. + +Summoning what Punic he knew, Sergius leaned forward and asked in a low +but stern voice to see their officer. Fortunately his own followers +were too far away to hear his words, and drunken Iberians would not be +critical as to a faulty Punic accent. + +Still they hesitated, chattered together, and stared, but at last one +who seemed more sober than the rest reeled away to the guard-house, +and, after some delay and evident persuasion, emerged again with a +young officer whose moist, hanging lips and filmy eyes showed that he, +too, had been dragged from the pursuit of pleasure. Helmetless and +with loosened corselet, every detail of his appearance told the story +of relaxed discipline. + +"What do you want? at this hour?" he said thickly, ambling forward and +leaning heavily upon the shoulder of his scarcely more steady guide. + +Again Sergius held out the ring, and the man, being a native +Carthaginian, recognized it through the mist of his intoxication, and, +throwing himself at full length, touched the earth with his forehead. + +"What do you wish?" he said, rising and standing, somewhat sobered by +the presence of such authority. + +"Open the gate. I ride under orders of the schalischim," said the +Roman, again speaking low and rapidly. + +The officer turned and shouted to his men, and several ran to unbar the +gate with such speed as their condition warranted. The other occupants +of the guard-house were now grouped at the door, five men, half armed, +and two dishevelled women with painted faces and flower-embroidered +pallas. + +The gate swung slowly on its hinges. + +"The light of the Baals be with you, friend!" exclaimed Sergius, and he +and Marcia rode through, with hearts beating madly. Voices raised in +discussion made them turn in their saddles. In his drunken stupidity, +the Carthaginian officer was trying to detain their escort and +servants. "The master had said nothing about them. How did he know +they belonged to the same party?" Then all began gesticulating and +shouting to Sergius for help and explanation. + +Here was an unforeseen incident, and the mind of the young Roman viewed +it rapidly in all its lights. On the one side, he would be relieved of +an awkward following that might at any moment begin to suspect him; on +the other hand to leave these in the lurch would be to invite prompt +suspicion. Still, they were fifty yards or more in advance, their +horses were good, and more space would be gained before the tangle at +the gate could be straightened out; therefore he waved his arm, as if +making some signal, and, turning again in his saddle, rode on, but +without increasing his speed. + +Louder shouts followed him, for, as he had intended, his gesture had +proved unintelligible. Then, when they saw he did not stop, the cries +ceased suddenly and an animated chattering came to his ears. Here was +suspicion trying to make itself understood and, at last, succeeding, +for, as Sergius glanced back once more to note how the matter +progressed, the young captain of the gate sprang forward and shouted +for him to halt. + +"A third altar--to Mercury the hastener!" exclaimed Sergius. "Quick +now! with the knees!" and, pressing the flanks of his Cappadocian, both +animals bounded forward into a headlong gallop. + + + + +XIII. + +WINTER QUARTERS. + +The beat of hoofs upon the great blocks of basalt rang through the +morning air in measured cadence, and soon an answering echo came up +from the south. Open flight had at last dispelled all doubt and given +the signal for pursuit. + +First came the two Africans of the original escort, released and bidden +to ride for life or death; a short distance behind was the Carthaginian +captain on his own horse which had probably been haltered behind the +guard-house; and, last of all, three of the Spanish guard, who had +thrown the servants and baggage from the animals that bore them, and +appropriated such speed as these afforded for the business in hand. + +That the officer was pretty well sobered seemed apparent. A fugitive +bearing the ring of the schalischim--the seal of the Great +Council--must be a man of importance, or else the possession of such a +talisman augured the commission of some terrible crime. Already he saw +himself stretched writhing upon the cross; the crowd, reviling or +gibing, seemed surging about his feet; and his howls of anguish found +voice in a storm of guttural objurgations to men and horses, mingled +with prayers and vows to the gods of Carthage. + +He had overtaken the two Africans now, for his animal was better than +theirs, but the three others laboured hopelessly behind: the +Cappadocians flew rather than galloped far in advance. Already nearly +three hundred yards separated them from their pursuers, and the gap was +widening slowly but surely. Only the officer held his own, for he was +now forging ahead of the Africans. + +"Ah, cowards! slime! filth!" he shouted to his struggling men. "The +cross! the cross! that for you unless we catch them! that for me!--for +all! Ah, Eschmoun! Ah, Khamon!--Melkarth!--gifts!--gold, gems, robes, +spices!--my first-born to the Baals! to the Baals! Help! speed!" + +The man was mad--mad indeed with terror and newly dispelled +drunkenness; and his horse, a great African, coal-black save for one +white hoof, seemed to partake of his master's frenzy. With ears lying +flat along his head, and eyes that burned into those of Sergius, when +he ventured to glance behind him,--glaring sheer through distance and +dust like the very eyes of those demons his rider invoked,--the beast +thundered on, equalling the speed of the light Asiatic chargers by the +force of strength alone. + +From time to time the fugitives turned their heads to measure the +distance, and the sight of this unwearied pursuer appeared to fascinate +them as by some weird power. The rest were beaten out,--the Spaniards +lost to sight, the Africans visible only by the dust that hung over +them far behind. + +The mountains to the eastward seemed to be dancing away in a mad chase +toward the south, a chase which Tifata itself was urging on. The +glimmer of white in the north told of the morning sun striking upon +houses. Still they rode on, pursuers and pursued. + +Suddenly a sound, half-trumpet note, half bellow, swelled up ahead. +Then another answered it, and another and another took up the refrain. + +Sergius' face blanched, and, with a sudden effort, he threw his animal +almost upon its haunches. Marcia was carried several spear-lengths +farther before she could check her speed. Wonder and the dread of some +accident drove the blood to her heart. A hoarse shout of triumph came +from their pursuer, as she turned to ride back. + +She asked no questions. Surely Sergius knew what was best. She saw +Iddilcar's long dagger in his hand, and that he was about to fight. + +"Back!--back! and to one side," he called, as she rode up. "Did you +not hear the elephants? That is Casilinum, and they are besieging it. +We should have remembered." + +He darted forward to meet the Carthaginian, fearful that he, too, would +draw rein and await the coming of his followers. Then indeed all would +be lost. Six soldiers on the one side and a camp full on the other +were hopeless odds against a wounded man armed only with a Numidian +dagger. + +But it was Bacchus that fought for Rome that day--Bacchus, to whom no +altar had been vowed. A night of debauchery and the sudden terror of +its awakening had effectually blurred whatever judgment the officer may +have had, and his one thought was to kill or capture his quarry. + +So they came together, Sergius swerving his Cappadocian as they met. +The officer struck blindly, but the good lord Bacchus put out his hand +and turned the blow aside. Then, as they parted, a strange thing +happened. Marcia had wondered dimly why Sergius struggled with the +long, girdleless garment of Iddilcar, tearing it off as he rode. Now, +when the two horses sprang apart, she saw that he had thrown it +dexterously over the Carthaginian, blinding his blow and tangling him +in its heavy folds. + +Prompt to respond to knee and rein, the Cappadocian wheeled, almost as +soon as he ran clear, but the African thundered on, while its rider +cursed in blind terror and tried to check his horse and to free his +face and sword-arm. A moment, and he had succeeded, but he succeeded +too late. The Roman was at his back, and Marcia saw the long dagger +rise and fall in a swift thrust. She could not see how the point took +its victim just at the nape; but she saw him pitch forward like an ox +under the axe. + +Almost before she could grasp what had happened, Sergius was beside the +fallen man, had resumed the priest's tunic, red with new blood stains, +and was on his horse again. His brow lay in deep lines as he rode +toward her. + +"Come," he said. "The gods favouring us, we must pass their camp +before the rest come up. Grant that those may linger by the corpse, +and that we meet no check." + +Again they were galloping toward the lines that lay about Casilinum. +All had happened so quickly that even now they could scarcely see the +plume in the distant dust cloud that told where the pursuers straggled +on. They had turned into the new side-road without meeting a man. +Then a small foraging party halted them, and Sergius showed the seal +and spoke in Gallic to its Numidian leader. A little farther on was +stationed another band, and here the delay was longer ere his halting +Punic convinced the Spanish piquet, and they again rode forward +unsuspected. All had bowed low to the horse and the palm tree, and no +one dared question what weighty mission urged on the man in the torn +and blood-stained tunic and the slender youth, his companion. + +Now they were back again upon the pavement of the Appian; the last line +was passed, and the beleaguered town with its stout-hearted garrison +lay well behind. Perhaps that sudden uproar told of the arrival of +their pursuers; perhaps those glittering points amid distant dust +clouds meant a new pursuit. Surely none but Mercury had winged the +feet of the Cappadocians! Unwearied, like springs of steel, the stout +muscles drove them on--on over the marshland with the glint of the sea +before them--on, up the rising ground. + +Again and again Sergius turned in his saddle scanning the road behind, +feeling the presence of pursuers whom he could not see. The good +horses were weakening fast. No flesh and blood could stand that +strain, and naught but the spirit of the breed kept them afoot. +Marcia's was limping painfully; the one Sergius rode was wavering in +its stride, like the Carthaginian captain when he came out of the +guard-house by the gate. + +"Gods! What were those shrill sounds--half whistle, half scream?" + +Too well he remembered how the Numidians urged on their bridleless +chargers. Yes, there they were now--scarce half a milestone behind and +coming up like the wind that blew through their dishevelled +manes--fifty at least. Death, then, was decreed, after all, and he +glanced toward Marcia, measuring the time when he might kiss her and +kill her ere he sold his own life to the javelins. + +Suddenly he heard her cry out. + +"Look!" she called, and, following her finger, he gazed eagerly ahead. + +A clump of horsemen, heavy armed with helmet and corselet, crowned the +knoll of rising ground over which the road led, and, above them, +fluttering in the breeze, he saw the square vexillum of the cavalry of +the legion. + +He was among them now, lifting Marcia from her horse and dimly +conscious of many words being spoken around. + +"See, lord, they have halted," said a voice. "Is it your will that we +pursue?" + +Then, as an answering voice replied in the negative, he kissed Marcia +and made her drink wine that some one brought. Barbarous cries that +she must not hear or understand came to his ears, and he knew that +their pursuers were wheeling in discomfited flight. The circle of +soldiers stood back. Something cold and feathery fell upon his +upturned face and turned to moisture. He saw a tall man with features +of wonderful beauty regarding them kindly and in silence; his white +paludamentum was heavily fringed with purple, and Sergius recognized +him now,--Marcus Marcellus, the new dictator. Another drop, feathery, +cold, and moist, fell upon Marcia's hand, and she roused herself at the +touch, peering up into her lover's face and then quickly at the heavens. + +"Look!" she cried. "Up! not into my eyes." + +He turned, for an instant, to see the blue vault of a few moments since +overcast with gray and filled with a swirl of snowy flakes. + +"See, now, Lucius, lord of my life; here are the messengers of winter. +Winter quarters! he is in winter quarters! See! have we not prevailed?" + +It was the voice of the dictator that answered:-- + +"Yes, truly; and there shall soon be prepared for him eternal summer +quarters in Phlegethon--if the Greek tales be true." + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LION'S BROOD*** + + +******* This file should be named 20219-8.txt or 20219-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/2/1/20219 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Lion's Brood</p> +<p>Author: Duffield Osborne</p> +<p>Release Date: December 29, 2006 [eBook #20219]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LION'S BROOD***</p> +<br><br><center><h3>E-text prepared by Al Haines</h3></center><br><br> +<hr class="full" noshade> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<A NAME="img-front"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG SRC="images/img-front.jpg" ALT="Here and there a Gaul would bound forward . . . to throw himself prone beneath the vermilion hoofs." BORDER="2" WIDTH="391" HEIGHT="589"> +<H3 STYLE="width: 400px"> +Here and there a Gaul would bound forward . . . to throw himself prone beneath the vermilion hoofs. +</H3> +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +The Lion's Brood +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +By +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +Duffield Osborne +</H2> + +<BR><BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +Author of "The Spell of Ashtaroth," "The Secret of the Crater" +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +NEW YORK +<BR> +DOUBLEDAY PAGE & COMPANY +<BR> +1904 +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +COPYRIGHT, 1901, +<BR> +BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & CO. +</H5> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +To the Memory of +<BR> +HOWARD SEELY +<BR> +BRILLIANT WRITER, TRUE-HEARTED GENTLEMAN, +<BR> +STANCH AND LOYAL FRIEND +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +CONTENTS. +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +PART I. +</H3> + +<CENTER> + +<TABLE WIDTH="80%"> +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%"> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="85%"> +<A HREF="#chap00a">INTRODUCTION</A></TD> +</TR> + + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">CHAPTER</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">I. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0101">NEWS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">II. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0102">WORDS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">III. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0103">PARTING</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0104">FABIUS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">V. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0105">TEMPTATION</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0106">DISOBEDIENCE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0107">PUNISHMENT</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0108">DISGRACE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0109">HOME</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">X. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0110">CONVALESCENCE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0111">POLITICS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0112">BRAWLINGS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0113">THE RED FLAG</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0114">CANNAE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0115">"WITHIN THE RAILS"</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +PART II. +</H3> + +<CENTER> + +<TABLE WIDTH="80%"> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="15%">I. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="85%"> +<A HREF="#chap0201">THE QUEEN OF THE WAYS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">II. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0202">THE GATE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">III. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0203">PACUVIUS CALAVIUS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0204">THE HOUSE OF THE NINII CELERES</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">V. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0205">THE BANQUET</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0206">ALLIES</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0207">"FREEDOM"</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0208">DIPLOMACY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0209">THE BAIT</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">X. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0210">MELKARTH</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0211">THE SLAVE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0212">FLIGHT</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap0213">WINTER QUARTERS</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap00a"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +PART I. +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +THE LION'S BROOD. +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +INTRODUCTION. +</H3> + +<P CLASS="intro"> +Centuries come and go; but the plot of the drama is unchanged, and the +same characters play the same parts. Only the actors cast for them are +new. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +It is much worn,—this denarius,—and the lines are softened and +blurred,—as of right they should be, when you think that more than two +thousand years have passed since it felt the die. It is lying before +me now on my table, and my eyes rest dreamily on its helmeted head of +Pallas Nicephora. There, behind her, is the mint-mark and that word of +ancient power and glory, "Roma." Below are letters so worn and +indistinct that I must bend close to read them: "—M. SERGI," and then +others that I cannot trace. +</P> + +<P> +Perhaps I have dozed a bit, for I must have turned the coin, +unthinking, and now I see the reverse: a horseman, in full panoply, +galloping, with naked sword brandished in his left hand, from which +depends a severed head tight-clutched by long, flowing hair. +</P> + +<P> +The clouds hang low over the city, as I peer from my tower +window,—driving, ever driving, from the east, and changing, ever +changing, their fantastic shapes. Now they are the waving hands and +gowns of a closely packed multitude surging with human passions; now +they are the headlong rout of a flying army upon which press hordes of +riders, dark, fierce, and barbarous—horses with tumultuous manes, and +hands with brandished darts. Surely it is a sleepy, workless day! It +will be vain to drive my pen across the pages. +</P> + +<P> +I do not see the cloud forms now—not with my eyes, for they have +closed themselves perforce; but my brain is awake, and I know that the +eyes of Pallas Nicephora see them, and grow brighter as if gazing on +well-remembered scenes. +</P> + +<P> +Why not? How many thousand clinkings of coin against coin in purse and +pouch, how many hundred impacts of hands that long since are dust, have +served to dim your once clear relief! +</P> + +<P> +Surely, Pallas, you have looked upon all this and much more. Shall I +see aught with your eyes, lady of my Sergian denarius? Shall I see, +if, with you before me, I look fixedly at the legions of clouds that +cross my window an hour—two—three—even until the night closes in? +</P> + +<P> +Grant but a grain of this, O Goddess, and lo! I vow to thee a troop of +pipe-players upon the Ides of June. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0101"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +I. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +NEWS. +</H3> + + +<P> +"A troop of pipe-players to Minerva on the Ides of June, if we win!" +</P> + +<P> +"And my household to Mars, if we have lost!" +</P> + +<P> +The speakers were hurrying along the street that leads down from the +Palatine Hill toward the Forum, and both were young. Their high shoes +fastened with quadruple thongs and adorned with small silver crescents +proclaimed their patrician rank. +</P> + +<P> +"Why do you vow as if the gods had already passed judgment, Lucius?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because, my Caius, I am very sure that a battle has been fought. What +else do these rumours mean that are flying through the city? rumours +that none can trace to a source. It is only a few minutes, since my +freedman, Atius, told me how the slaves report that our neighbour +Marcus Sabrius rode in last night through the Ratumenian Gate; and when +I sent to his house to inquire, the doorkeeper feigned ignorance. That +is only one of a hundred tales. Note the crowd thickening around us as +we approach the Forum, and how all are pressing in the same direction. +Study their faces, and doubt what I say if you can." +</P> + +<P> +"But is it victory or defeat?" +</P> + +<P> +"Answer me your own question, Caius. Is 'victory' or 'defeat' the word +that men do not dare to utter?" +</P> + +<P> +The face of Caius became grave. Then suddenly he burst out with:— +</P> + +<P> +"You are right. I see it all now, even as you speak; and what hope had +we from the first? Who was the demagogue Flaminius that he should +command our army, going forth without the auspices—a consul that was +no consul at all in the sight of the gods! Then, too, there were the +warnings that poured in from all the country: the ships in the sky, the +crow alighting on the couch in the Temple of Juno, the stones rained in +Picinum—" +</P> + +<P> +"Foolish stories, my Caius; the dreams of ignorant rustics," replied +Lucius, smiling faintly. "Besides, you remember they were all +expiated—" +</P> + +<P> +"And who knows that they were expiated truly!" croaked an old woman +from a booth by the road. "Who does not know that, as Varro says, your +patrician magistrates would rather lose a battle than that a plebeian +consul should triumph! Varbo, the butcher, dreamed last night that his +son's blood was drenching his bed, and when he awoke, it was water from +the roof; and Arates, the Greek soothsayer, says that Varbo's son has +been slain in the water, and his blood—" +</P> + +<P> +But the young patricians, who had halted a moment at the interruption, +now hurried on with an expression of contempt on their faces. +</P> + +<P> +"That is what Flaminius stands for," resumed Lucius after a moment of +silence. "How can we look for success when such men are raised to the +command, merely because they <I>are</I> such men; and when a Fabius and a +Claudius are set aside because their fathers' fathers led the armies of +the Republic to victory in the days when this rabble were the slaves +they should still be." +</P> + +<P> +The friends had turned into the Sacred Way. A moment later they +arrived at the Forum lined with its rows of booths nestled away beneath +massive porticoes of peperino, and with its columned temples standing +like divine sentinels about or sweeping away up the rugged slope of the +Capitoline to where the great fane of Jupiter Capitolinus shed its +protecting glory over the destinies of Rome. +</P> + +<P> +Below, the broad expanse of Forum and Comitia was thronged with a +surging crowd—patricians and plebeians,—elbowing and pushing one +another in mad efforts to get closer to the Rostra and to a small group +of magistrates, who, with grave faces, were clustered at the foot of +its steps. These latter spoke to each other in whispers, but such a +babel of sounds swelled up around them that they might safely have +screamed without fear of being overheard. +</P> + +<P> +The booths were emptied of their cooks and butchers and silversmiths. +Waving arms and the flutter of robes emphasized the discussions going +on on every side. Here a rumour-monger was telling his tale to a +gaping cluster of pallid faces; there a plebeian pot-house orator was +arraigning the upper classes to a circle of lowering brows and clenched +fists, while the sneering face of some passing patrician told of a +disdain beyond words, as he gathered his toga closer to avoid the +contamination of the rabble. +</P> + +<P> +One sentiment, however, seemed to prevail over all, and, beside it, +curiosity, party rancour, wrath, and contempt were as nothing. It was +anxiety sharpened even into dread that brooded everywhere and +controlled all other passions, while itself threatening at every moment +to sweep away the barriers and to loose the warm southern blood of the +citizens into a seething flood of furious riot or headlong panic. +</P> + +<P> +The two young men had descended into this maelstrom of popular +excitement, and were making such headway as they could toward the +central point of interest. Now and again they passed friends who +either looked straight into their faces, without a sign of recognition, +or else burst out into floods of information,—prayers for news or +vouchsafings of it,—news, good or bad, true or false. Perhaps +three-fourths of the distance had been covered at the expense of torn +togas and bruised sides, when a sudden commotion in front showed that +something was happening. The next moment the hard, stern face of +Marcus Pomponius Matho, the praetor peregrinus, rose above the crowd, +and then the broad purple band upon his toga, as he mounted the steps +of the Rostra. +</P> + +<P> +It seemed hours—almost days—that he stood there, grave and silent, +looking down into the sea of upturned faces, while the roar of the +multitude died away into a gentle murmur, and then into a silence so +oppressive that each man seemed to be holding his breath. Once the +magistrate's lips moved, but no words came from them, and strange +noises, as of the clenching of teeth and sharp, quick breathing, rose +all about. Then a voice came from his mouth, the very calmness of +which seemed terrible:— +</P> + +<P> +"Quirites, we have been beaten in a great battle. Our army is +destroyed, and Caius Flaminius, the consul, is killed." +</P> + +<P> +For a moment there was stillness deeper almost than before, as if the +leadlike words were sinking slowly but steadily along passage and nerve +down to the central seats of consciousness; then burst forth a sound as +of a single groan—the groan of Jupiter himself in mortal anguish; and +then the noise of women weeping, the shrieking treble of age, and the +rumbling murmur of curses and execrations,—against senate and nobles, +against the rabble and their dead leader, but, above all, against +Carthage and her terrible captain. +</P> + +<P> +"Who are these men that slay consuls and destroy armies?" piped the +shrill voice of an aged cripple who had struggled up from where he sat +upon the steps of Castor, and was shaking the stump of a wrist toward +the north. +</P> + +<P> +"Are they not the men who surrendered Sicily that we might let them +escape from us at Eryx? Did they not give up their ships, and pay us +tribute, and scurry out of Sardinia that Rome might spare them? I—I +who am talking to you have seen their armies: naked barbarians from the +deserts, naked barbarians from the woods—not one well-armed man in +five—a rabble with a score of languages, to whom no general can talk. +<I>They</I> to destroy the army of Rome—in her own land!—what crime have +we committed that the gods should deal with us thus?" +</P> + +<P> +"But the great beasts that tear up the ranks?" put in a young butcher, +one of the circle that had been drawn together about the veteran. +</P> + +<P> +"How did his elephants save Pyrrhus—and then we saw them for the first +time?" retorted the cripple. +</P> + +<P> +"You forget, that was before Rome had become the prey of demagogues; +before she had Flaminii for consuls." +</P> + +<P> +All turned toward the new speaker—the young patrician whom his +companion had called Lucius. He was a man perhaps twenty-five years of +age, of middle height, sparely built but as if of tempered steel, with +strong, commanding features and dark hawklike eyes that were now +glittering with passion. It was not a handsome face except so far as +strength and pride make masculine beauty, but it was the face of one +whom a man might trust and a woman love. +</P> + +<P> +The butcher was on the point of returning an angry retort, half to hide +his awe of the other's rank, when a friend caught him by the arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you not see it is Lucius Sergius Fidenas?" he whispered. +</P> + +<P> +The result of the warning was still doubtful, when a sudden commotion +in the crowd about them drew the attention of all to a short, thick-set +man of middle age, in the light panoply of a mounted legionary. Cries +went up from all about:— +</P> + +<P> +"It is Marcus Decius." "He is from the army." "Tell us! what news?" +</P> + +<P> +For answer the newcomer turned from one to the other of his +questioners, with a dazed expression on his pale, drawn face. +</P> + +<P> +"What shall I say, neighbours?" he muttered at last. "My horse fell +just out there on the Flaminian road, and I came here on foot. I have +eaten nothing for a day." +</P> + +<P> +But they paid no attention to his wants, thronging around with almost +threatening gestures and crying:— +</P> + +<P> +"What news? What news—not of yourself—of the army?—of the battle?" +</P> + +<P> +"There was no battle, and there is no army," said the man, dully. +</P> + +<P> +Sergius forced his way to the front and threw one arm about the +soldier. Then, turning to the crowd:— +</P> + +<P> +"Stand back!" he cried, "and give him air. Do you not see the fellow +is fainting?" +</P> + +<P> +"No battle—and yet no army," repeated Decius, in a murmurous monotone, +when, for a moment, there were silence and space around him. "We +marched by the Lake Trasimenus, and the fog lay thick upon us. Then +came a noise of shouts and clash of arms and shrieks, but we saw +nothing—only sometimes a great, white, naked body swinging a huge +sword, and again a black man buried in his horse's mane that waved +about him as he rushed by—only these things and our own men +falling—falling without ever a chance to strike or to see whence we +were stricken." +</P> + +<P> +The crowd shuddered. +</P> + +<P> +"And the elephants?" +</P> + +<P> +"I did not see them. They say they are all dead." +</P> + +<P> +"And the consul?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know." +</P> + +<P> +Just then the cripple from the steps was pushed forward. +</P> + +<P> +"Flaminius is dead. He died fighting, as a Roman consul should. But +you? What are you, to let the pulse-eaters at him. You should have +seen how <I>we</I> dealt with them off the Aegusian Islands." +</P> + +<P> +"Or at Drepana?" sneered the horseman, roused from his lethargy by the +other's taunt. +</P> + +<P> +"That was what a <I>patrician</I> consul brought us to," muttered the +cripple, glancing at Sergius. "Do you know what the Claudian did? +When the sacred chickens would not eat, he cried out, 'Then they shall +drink,' and ordered them thrown overboard. How could soldiers win when +an impious commander had first challenged the gods?" +</P> + +<P> +"And what about Flaminius ordering our standards to be dug up when they +could not be drawn from the earth?" retorted the other. +</P> + +<P> +"Did he do that?" asked several, and for a moment the feeling that had +been with the cripple, and against the victim of this latest disaster, +seemed divided. +</P> + +<P> +Sergius perceived only too clearly that, in the present temper of men's +minds, the faintest spark could light fires of riot and murder that +might leave but a heap of ashes and corpses for the Carthaginian to +gain. Taking advantage of the momentary lull, he said in conciliatory +tones:— +</P> + +<P> +"Flaminius neglected the auspices, and disaster came upon us for his +impiety, but it appears that he died like a brave soldier, and he is a +whip-knave who strikes at such. As for this man, he needs succour and +care. Stand aside, then, that I may take him where his wants may be +ministered to. There will soon be plenty of fugitives to fill your +ears with tales." +</P> + +<P> +"Not many, master, not many," murmured Decius, as the young man forced +a way for them through the crowd. "Some are taken, but most lie in the +defile of Trasimenus or under the waters of the Lake." +</P> + +<P> +Sergius hurried on, thinking of Varbo the butcher's dream, and of +Arates the Greek soothsayer's interpretation. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0102"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +II. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +WORDS. +</H3> + + +<P> +Three days had passed since the awful news from the shore of Lake +Trasimenus had plunged Rome into horror and despair. Every hour had +brought in stragglers: horse, foot, fugitives from the country-side, +each bearing his tale of slaughter. Crowds gathered at the gates, +swarming about every newcomer, vociferous for his story, and then +cursing and threatening the teller because it was what they knew it +must be. +</P> + +<P> +In the atrium of Titus Manlius Torquatus, on the brow of the Palatine, +overlooking the New Way, was gathered a company of three: the aged +master of the house, a type of the Roman of better days, and a worthy +descendant of that Torquatus who had won the name; his son Caius, the +youth who had been with Sergius in the Forum; and Lucius Sergius +himself. All were silent and serious. +</P> + +<P> +The elder Torquatus sat by a square fountain ornamented with bronze +dolphins, that lay in the middle of the mosaic paving of the apartment. +The walls were painted half yellow, half red, after the manner of Magna +Grascia, while around them were ranged the statues of the Manlian +nobles. The roof was supported in the Tuscan fashion by four beams +crossing each other at right angles, and including between them the +open space above the fountain. +</P> + +<P> +It was the old man who spoke first. +</P> + +<P> +"Do not think, my Lucius, but that I see the justice of your prayer, or +that I wish otherwise than that Marcia should wind wool about your +doorposts. Still there is much to be said for delay. Surely these +days are not auspicious ones for marriages, and surely better will +come. You have my pledge, as had my dead friend Marcus Marcius in the +matter of her name. Do you think it was nothing for me to call a +daughter other than Manlia—and for a plebeian house at that? Yet she +is Marcia. Doubt not that I will keep this word as well." +</P> + +<P> +"Aye, but, father," persisted Sergius, "is it not something that she +should be mine to protect in time of peril?" +</P> + +<P> +"And who so able to protect as Lucius," put in Caius, with an admiring +glance, for Caius Torquatus was six years younger than his friend, and +admired him with all the devotion of a younger man. +</P> + +<P> +"Has it come that our house cannot protect its women?" cried the elder +Torquatus. "What more shameful than that our daughter should be +carried thus across a Sergian threshold—going like a slave to her +master!" He spoke proudly and sternly. Then, turning to Sergius, he +went on more gently: "Were you to remain in the city, my son, there +might be more force in what you claim; but you will go out with one of +the new legions that they will doubtless raise, and you will believe an +old man who says that it is not well for a soldier in the field to have +a young wife at home." +</P> + +<P> +Sergius flushed and was silent, lest his answer should savour of pride +or disrespect toward an elder. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly they became conscious of a commotion in the street. Shrill +cries were borne to their ears, and, a moment later, blows fell upon +the outer door, followed by the grinding noise as it turned upon its +pivots. A freedman burst into the atrium. +</P> + +<P> +Titus Torquatus rose from his seat, and half raised his staff as if to +punish the unceremonious intrusion. Then he noted the excitement under +which the man seemed to be labouring, and stood stern and silent to +learn what news could warrant such a breach of decorum. +</P> + +<P> +"It is Maharbal, they say—" and the speaker's voice came almost in +gasps—"Maharbal and the Numidians—" +</P> + +<P> +"Not at the gates!" cried both young men, springing to their feet; but +the other shook his head and went on:— +</P> + +<P> +"No, not that—not <I>yet</I>, but he has cut up four thousand cavalry in +Umbria with Caius Centenius. The consul had sent them from Gaul—" +</P> + +<P> +"Be silent!" commanded the elder Torquatus. "Surely I hear the public +crier in the street. Is he not summoning the Senate? Velo," he said, +turning to the freedman; "you are pardoned for your intrusion. Go, +now, and bear orders from me to arm my household, and that my clients +and freedmen wait upon me in the morning. It is possible that the +Republic may call for every man; and though I fear Titus Manlius +Torquatus cannot strike the blows he struck in Sicily, yet even <I>his</I> +sword might avail to pierce light armour; and he is happy in that he +can give those to the State whose muscles shall suffice to drive the +point through heavy buckler and breastplate." +</P> + +<P> +"Shall it be permitted that I attend you to the Senate House?" asked +Caius. +</P> + +<P> +His father inclined his head, and, donning the togas which slaves had +brought, they hurried into the street, hardly noting that Sergius had +reseated himself and was gazing absently down into the water, counting +the ripples that spread from where each threadlike stream fell from its +dolphin-mouth source. +</P> + +<P> +He did not know how long he had sat thus, nor was he, perhaps, +altogether conscious of his motive in failing to pay the aged senator +the honour of accompanying him, at least so far as the gates of the +Temple of Concord. Sounds came to his ears from the apartments above: +the trampling of feet and bustle of preparation that told of Velo's +delivery of his patron's commands. Then a woman's laugh rang through +the passage that led back to the garden of the peristyle. +</P> + +<P> +Sergius rose and turned, just as a girl sprang out into the atrium, +looking back with a laughing challenge to some one who seemed to pursue +her, but who hesitated to issue from the protecting darkness. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you fear, Minutia," she cried. "My father and Caius have +gone, and there is no one—oh!" +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly she became conscious of Sergius' presence, and her olive +cheeks flushed to a rich crimson. Then she faced him with an air of +pretty defiance and went on:— +</P> + +<P> +"No one here but Lucius Sergius Fidenas, who should have business +elsewhere." +</P> + +<P> +Sergius said nothing, but continued to stand with eyes fixed +thoughtfully upon her face. +</P> + +<P> +Her figure was tall, slender, and very graceful, her hair and eyes were +dark, and her features delicate and perfectly moulded. Over all was +now an expression of hoydenish mirth that bespoke the complete +forgetfulness of serious things that only comes to young girls. His +attentive silence seemed at last to disturb her. An annoyed look drove +the smile from her lips, and, with an almost imperceptible side motion +of her small head, she went on:— +</P> + +<P> +"Surely Lucius Sergius Fidenas has not allowed my father to go to the +Senate House with only Caius to attend him! Lucius respects my father +too much for that—and too disinterestedly. It is an even more serious +omission than his failure to attend the consul at Trasimenus—" +</P> + +<P> +Sergius' eyes blazed at the taunt, and, struggling with the answer that +rose to his lips, he said nothing for fear he might say too much. +</P> + +<P> +The girl watched him closely. Her mirth returned a little at the sight +of his confusion, and, with her mirth, came something of mercy. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, to be sure, his wound. I almost forgot that. Tell me, my brave +Lucius, did the Gauls bite hard when they caught you in the woods and +drove you and my brave uncle to Tanes? How funny for naked Gauls to +ambush Roman legionaries and chase them home! Father has not spoken to +Uncle Cneus since. He says it was his duty to have remained on the +field, and I suppose he thinks it was yours, too, instead of running +away like a fox to be shut up in his hole." +</P> + +<P> +Sergius had recovered his composure now, but his brow was clouded. +</P> + +<P> +"You are as cruel as ever, Marcia," he said. "And yet I know you have +heard that it was the men of my maniple who carried me away, senseless +from the blow of a dead man." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you <I>did</I> kill him. I remember now," she resumed, with some +display of interest. "You had run him through, had you not? and he +just let his big sword drop on your head. I got Caius to show me about +it, and I was the Gaul. Caius did not stab me, but I let the stick +fall pretty hard, and Caius had a sore head for two days. I meant it +for you, because you are trying to make an old woman of me when I am +hardly a girl." +</P> + +<P> +"Marcia—" began Lucius; but she raised her hand warningly and went +on:— +</P> + +<P> +"Do you want me to tell you why my father will not let you marry me +now? There are two reasons. One because I don't want him to, and +another because he thinks you must do something great to wipe out the +stain of a Roman centurion's even being <I>carried</I> away before the +Gauls." +</P> + +<P> +"That will be an easy task, judging by the news we receive each day. I +wish I felt as certain of the safety of the Republic as I am that my +honour shall be satisfactorily vindicated." +</P> + +<P> +He spoke bitterly, but she went on without taking note of his meaning. +</P> + +<P> +"These are auspicious words, my Lucius. You will regain your honour; +father will once more receive you into his favour, and, by that time, I +shall doubtless be old enough to marry,—perhaps too old,—but, no, I +must not wait so long as that. Perhaps I shall have married some one +else by the time you are worthy of my favour." +</P> + +<P> +"More probably I shall have ceased to care for the favour of living men +and women." +</P> + +<P> +"Truly? And you think you will have to die? Perhaps you will be a +Decius Mus, and stand on the javelin and wear the Cincture Gabinus; and +then I shall mourn for you and hang so many garlands on your tomb that +all the shades of your friends will be mad with jealousy—" +</P> + +<P> +"Marcia, is it possible for you to be serious?" +</P> + +<P> +He was pale with suppressed passion, and, as he spoke, he stepped +forward and laid his hand upon her wrist. +</P> + +<P> +She sprang back and half raised a light staff she carried, while her +face flushed crimson. +</P> + +<P> +"I will be more serious than will please you," she said, "if you please +me as little as you do now. Learn, I am not your wife that you should +seek to restrain me, and it is quite possible that I never shall be." +</P> + +<P> +"You speak truly," he said; "it is quite possible that no woman shall +be a new mother to the house of Fidenas—that our name shall die in me. +So be it; and may the gods only avert the evils that threaten the +Republic, nor look upon one of the race of the Trojan Segestes as an +unworthy offering." +</P> + +<P> +Bending his head in respectful salutation, he turned toward the +entrance hall. +</P> + +<P> +Marcia stood silent beside the fountain, and her face clouded with +thought. The sound of her lover's footsteps grew fainter and fainter. +She started forward as if to follow him. Then she stopped and +listened. The noise of the street had drowned their echoes; the door +had creaked twice on its pivots. He was gone. Then she called, +"Lucius!" but there was no answer. Her eyes drooped with a little +frown of regret, but in a moment she turned away laughing. +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind. He cannot do anything very desperate yet, and I will +treat him better next time—perhaps." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0103"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +III. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +PARTING. +</H3> + + +<P> +The ensuing days were pregnant with rumour and action. The waves of +terror and despair that lashed over the city, as blow after blow fell, +had now receded. The white banner, that was always lowered at the +approach of an enemy, still spread its undulating folds above +Janiculum; the crops and fruit trees and vines smiled upon the +hillsides; the flocks and herds browsed peacefully along the Campagna +with never a Numidian pillager to disturb their serenity; and, amid +all, there was no rumour of allied gates opened to receive the invader, +no welcome from the Italians whom he had striven to conciliate. +Courage returned, and with courage firmness, and with firmness +confidence to endure and dare and do, so long as invaders presumed to +set foot upon the heritage of Rome. +</P> + +<P> +How far this new confidence was born of the news that the Carthaginian +was turning aside to the west, through Umbria and Picenum, how far by +the rumour that Spoletum had closed her gates and repulsed his +vanguard, or how far by wrath at the tales of ravage and the numberless +murders of Roman citizens that marked his line of march, it would be +difficult to apportion. +</P> + +<P> +However these, the city was now seething with energetic preparation. +The Senate sat daily and into each night. No word of peace was +uttered—all was war and revenge. Quintus Fabius Maximus was elected +pro-dictator by a vote of the Comitia—not dictator, because that could +only be done through appointment by the surviving consul, then absent +in Gaul—or none knew where. By the same power, and in order to +appease the commons irritated by criticisms of Flaminius, Marcus +Minutius Rufus was elected master of the horse. Nor were the gods +neglected. Their stimulating influence was invoked by the dictator to +inspire the people with confidence, while he soothed them with the +intimation that Flaminius had failed rather through overcourage and +neglect of divine things than through mere plebeian temerity and +ignorance. Fabius took care to impress it upon all that he himself +would take full warning from the lesson. He moved that the Sibylline +books should be consulted, and the Senate promptly acted upon the +motion. These directed that a holy spring be proclaimed forthwith; +that every animal fit for sacrifice, and born between the Kalends of +March and May throughout all Italy, should be offered to Jupiter. +Votive games were decided upon, couches were set by the judges, whereon +the twelve gods should feast in splendour, temples were vowed, to Venus +Erycina by the dictator himself, to Mens by Titus Otacilius, the +praetor. +</P> + +<P> +But with all, and, as Fabius put it, that the immortal gods should not +be overburdened with the petty affairs of mortals, every care that +human prudence and warcraft could suggest was taken. Walls and towers +were strengthened, and bridges were broken down; the inhabitants of +open towns were driven into places of security, and their houses and +crops destroyed. Amid all, the rumour came that Servilius was +hastening back from Gaul; then, that he was close at hand, and, +finally, Fabius set out to meet him, sending orders in advance that the +consul should come without lictors, so that the dignity of the +dictatorship might stand high before the people. And when Servilius +had come, in all respects as commanded, then he, the consul, after +first delivering up his legions which he had left at Ariminum, was +ordered to Ostia and the fleet to keep watch and ward over the Italian +coast and to protect the corn ships. So all the armies of the Republic +went to the pro-dictator, together with authority to raise such more as +he should consider needful; two new legions in the place of those dead +on the shores of Trasimenus, and some thousands of poorer citizens from +the tribes, to man the quinqueremes of Servilius and the walls of Rome. +</P> + +<P> +Amid these days of bustle and preparation, Sergius had found little +difficulty in keeping his footsteps from Marcia's threshold. After the +first grief of the conviction that she did not love him, pride came to +his rescue. Should he, the head of the noblest house of the noble +Sergian gens, should he abase himself and submit to scornful words even +from a daughter of Torquatus? or, yet, should he, as a man, desire to +bear the torch before an unwilling bride? These were simple questions, +and there was but one word that could answer them; so Sergius struggled +to put Marcia from his heart, until he flattered himself that the +difficult task had at last been accomplished. +</P> + +<P> +During this internal struggle, there came, also, to help him, word that +he had been named as one of the military tribunes in the new Fourth +Legion, and, his wound being now almost well, he threw himself headlong +into the work of the levy and of exercising his men, striving to bring +them to such a degree of efficiency as might win honour for himself and +advantage to the Republic. Now and again twinges of the old heart-pain +would rack him, but he obstinately attributed all depression and +melancholy to the inferior quality, both physically and socially, of +many of the new levies, and to his misgivings as to the account they +would render of themselves when confronted by the veterans of Hannibal. +</P> + +<P> +At last the day of marching arrived, and with it the greatest struggle +of all. Suddenly a suspicion awoke within him, whispering that the +task he had set for himself was but poorly done; that the image of +Marcia still smiled unbanished above the altar of his heart; and, with +all his pride and strength, this suspicion of his weakness was, oddly +enough, a source of positive exultation. Caius had been with him +through much of his work, for Caius served in the same legion. It was +evident, however, that the young man had received strict orders on one +subject; for, in all their talks, the name of Marcia never passed his +lips. This was unlike Caius, who was thought by many to be given to +overmuch speaking, and, for that reason, it irritated Sergius the more, +who would sooner have cut away his hand than questioned his friend +concerning his sister. Thus the two men, illogically but humanly +enough, continued to grow apart, until, with never a thought but of +friendliness, their intercourse became limited, through sheer +embarrassment, to the commonplaces of fellow-soldiers who held light +acquaintance with each other's names and faces. +</P> + +<P> +As the hour drew near, the city bubbled with excitement, and the altars +of the gods reeked with unnumbered victims. Especially invoked were +Castor, Fortune, Liberty, and Hope, but, above all, the mighty trinity +of the Capitol. Lest the pang of so great a parting with men who were +about to encounter such grave dangers might sap the courage of those +remaining, and thence that of the new levies, the dictator had wisely +decreed that the army should assemble at Tibur. So it happened that +there was none to go now save himself and a small escort of cavalry, +five turmae, at the head of which was Sergius. With these went Rome's +last hope: the cast behind which lay only ruin, but for the averting +favour of the gods. +</P> + +<P> +At midday the fasces would be carried forth, and it lacked but an hour +of the time. Sergius had prepared everything; his men were ready to +mount at the blast of the trumpet, and his household was set in order +against the absence of its master. He was standing within the Viminal +Gate, while an attendant held his horse close by and a little apart +from the crowds of weeping women who surrounded the soldiers of the +dictator's escort. Suddenly he felt some one pluck him by the cloak, +and turned quickly to see a young woman in the single tunic of a slave. +Her dress, however, was of finer texture than that worn by most of her +class, and seemed to bespeak a rich mistress and especial favour. She +stood with her finger to her lips, her eyes great with the importance +of her mission. +</P> + +<P> +"My mistress, the Lady Marcia, orders that you come and bid her +farewell," she whispered hurriedly. +</P> + +<P> +Then she darted away among the crowd, before the young tribune could +make answer to an invitation so oddly worded. +</P> + +<P> +His first impulse was to show the Lady Marcia that he was not to be +dismissed and sent for—much less ordered back at the caprice of a +girl. His next was to humour the whim of a child, and his third was to +obey humbly and thankfully, without a thought but of Marcia's beauty +and his own good fortune. +</P> + +<P> +A word to his slave and another to his horse, whereat the former loosed +the bridle, and the latter knelt for his master. Then came a wild +gallop across the crest of the Viminal Hill, through the ill-omened +street where the wicked Tullia had driven over her father's corpse, +into the Forum, and out up the New Way to the house of Torquatus. +</P> + +<P> +Throwing his rein to the porter, Sergius entered the court of the +atrium, vacant and resounding to the hurried tread of his cothurni. +Pausing for a moment and hesitating to penetrate farther into the +house, he became aware that the porter had followed him. Like most of +his class, he was a man considerably past middle life, and thus +considered suited to the comparative ease and responsibility of his +position. With a freedom and garrulity born of long service, he +began:— +</P> + +<P> +"It was a word I was commanded to deliver to the most noble Sergius, +and I doubt not it would have been well and truly delivered, but for +his springing from his horse so quickly and rushing past me. It is +possible that I might have come to him sooner had he not left me to +take care of the animal, and it needed time to summon the groom, whose +duty such work is. Therefore—" +</P> + +<P> +"By Hercules, man, give me the message! Do you think I can listen all +day to your gabbling?" cried the soldier, furious with impatience. +</P> + +<P> +A faint laugh seemed to come from somewhere beyond the hallway. +</P> + +<P> +"I was about to say, most noble lord," pursued the porter, hardly +ruffled by the outburst; "and I trust you will pardon me if I dallied +over-much; but—" +</P> + +<P> +Sergius raised his hand. Then, thinking better of the blow, he seized +the man by the throat. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps I can shake the words out like dice from a box. Now for the +Venus cast!" he cried, suiting the action to the speech. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you making trial of your strength that you may break more readily +into Carthaginian houses? Remember it is soldiers with whom you are to +contend." +</P> + +<P> +Sergius turned quickly, to see Marcia herself standing at the entrance +to the hall. In her eyes, on her lips, was malicious laughter; but a +little red spot on either cheek seemed to tell of some stronger feeling +behind. He had released the porter so quickly that the latter +staggered back almost into the fountain, and Marcia smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"I think I have been taking a great deal of trouble for the sake of a +very discourteous person," she said. "I sent Minutia to tell a certain +soldier that I am willing to bid him farewell, despite his +unworthiness, and he comes and nearly strangles poor old Rhetus for +trying to say that I was awaiting him in the peristyle." +</P> + +<P> +"Rhetus' attempt was not very successful, and my time was short," said +Sergius, growing alternately red and pale. +</P> + +<P> +"And so you thought to hasten his speech by closing his throat? Oh! +you are a wise man—a very logical man. They should have made <I>you</I> +dictator, so that you could save Italy by surrendering Rome." +</P> + +<P> +"Is it to say such things that you sent for me?" asked Sergius, after a +pause during which he struggled against embarrassment and wrath. +</P> + +<P> +"Surely not, for how could I know that you were going to behave so +outrageously? If you will follow me, we will go into the peristyle." +</P> + +<P> +She turned back through the passage, and Sergius followed, issuing a +moment later into a large, cloister-like court, open in the middle, and +decorated with flowers and shrubs. Four rows of columns, half plain, +half fluted, supported the shed roof that protected the frescoes. +These covered three of the walls. On the back was a garden scene so +painted as to seem like a continuation of the court itself into the far +distance; on the right was the combat between Aeneas and Turnus, and on +the left a representation of the first Torquatus despoiling the slain +Gaul of the trophy from which the family took its name. +</P> + +<P> +"And now I will tell you why I sent." +</P> + +<P> +She had seated herself in a marble chair with wolf heads carved on the +arms, and her face had grown grave and thoughtful. +</P> + +<P> +"It was to tell you a dream—a dream of you that I had last night." +</P> + +<P> +Her cheek flushed, and Sergius' eyes sparkled. +</P> + +<P> +"You dreamt of <I>me</I>?" he said in a low voice. He half raised his arms +and came nearer; but she held up one hand in the old imperious manner. +</P> + +<P> +"If you please, I have not sent for you that you should grow +presumptuous, because I was unmaidenly enough to dream of so badly +behaved a person as yourself. It—it was because it—I thought you +should know, so that the omen might be expiated." +</P> + +<P> +Sergius had halted and was standing still. His lip curled slightly. +</P> + +<P> +"I dreamt," she went on, after a short pause, "that there was a wide +plain with mountains about it and a river running through; and it was +all heaped up with dead men—thousands upon thousands—stripped of arms +and clothing, and the air was gray with vultures, and the wolves and +foxes were calling to each other back among the hills. And I was very +sad and walked daintily so that my sandals and gown might not be +splashed with the blood that curdled in pools all about. Suddenly I +came to a heap of slain whereon <I>you</I> were lying, with a long javelin +through your body. So I screamed and awoke—" +</P> + +<P> +"Surely, then, you felt sorrow," cried Sergius, who had followed the +narrative with deep interest, but who seemed to consider nothing of it +save the concern she had shown at his death. +</P> + +<P> +"I—I," she began; and then, as if angry with herself at the betrayal +of feeling and of her embarrassment, she burst out; "I did not send, +foolish one, that you should consider <I>me</I>. Look rather to yourself." +</P> + +<P> +But Sergius was full of the joy of his own thoughts. +</P> + +<P> +"That I shall do, my Marcia, by setting my mind upon things that are +better than myself—the Republic—you—" +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, but the omen?" +</P> + +<P> +"I shall put it aside together with the other: that you have called me +back from the march; and I shall consider both well expiated by the +knowledge that I am not as nothing to you." +</P> + +<P> +Her face grew pale, and she half rose from the chair. +</P> + +<P> +"Truly, I did not think about calling you back. It is terrible—all +this—and it is my doing—" +</P> + +<P> +"Then, if you wish, I shall lay it up against you," cried he, gayly, +"unless you promise to be Caia in my house—" +</P> + +<P> +"You are unfair to press me now and by such means." +</P> + +<P> +"But it must be now," exclaimed the young man, springing forward and +trying to catch her in his arms. "Do you not see I must leave you at +once? Shall it be without a promise?" +</P> + +<P> +The blush had turned again to little anger spots, as she evaded him. +</P> + +<P> +"Very well," she said slowly. "I will be Caia where thou art Caius—" +</P> + +<P> +Sergius' face shone with exultation, and his lips parted. +</P> + +<P> +"I will be Caia," she resumed, "upon the day when Orcus sends back the +dead from Acheron." +</P> + +<P> +His expression of joy faded, and indignation took its place. Surely +this was carrying light speech too far—and at such a time. Suddenly +he realized that the dictator might already have ridden on, and +disgrace have fallen upon a Sergius at the very beginning of the +campaign. +</P> + +<P> +"So be it! I accept that omen—with the others," he cried sternly, +and, turning, strode out through the atrium, bounded upon his horse, +and dashed headlong down the street, before Marcia was fairly aware +that he had gone from her presence. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0104"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IV. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +FABIUS. +</H3> + + +<P> +Sergius rode back to his men, deeply wounded in love and pride. He +tried to excuse Marcia for her treatment of him, on the score of her +youth and of youth's thoughtlessness; he blamed himself for his +abruptness and his lack of knowledge of women—failings that had +perhaps turned an impending victory into the defeat that now oppressed +him. Worst of all, there was no hope to remedy his or her fault. A +dangerous campaign lay before him, and the omens—but pshaw! <I>he</I> was +not one of the rabble, to tremble at a flight of birds from the west or +an ox with a bad liver. He had always admired the spirit of that old +sceptic, Claudius, who had drowned the chickens off Drepana, though he +admitted the faulty judgment in failing to realize the effect of such a +defiance upon ignorant seamen and marines: the hierarchy was necessary +for the State; if only to keep fools in order, but for a man of family +and education—well, he smiled. It provoked him, amid all his +disbelief, that he could not help preferring that those same omens had +been more favourable. Pride, pride was his last and truest safeguard. +He, a descendant of the companion of Aeneas, to fear the Carthaginian +sword! he, a Roman noble, about to face death for his country, to waste +his thoughts upon a silly girl who chose to flout him! +</P> + +<P> +Then the long clarions of the cavalry rang out, and the horsemen ran to +their steeds. Down the slope of the Viminal rode the dictator: before +him went the twenty-four axes, each in its bundle of staves, their +bearers robed in military cloaks of purple cloth; behind came a small +troop of illustrious Romans—his legati, his staff, nominated by him +and sanctioned by the Senate for their fame and skill in war; also such +senators as had elected, by way of personal compliment, to ride with +the general and to partake as volunteers in whatever share of the war +he might set for them. +</P> + +<P> +Quintus Fabius Maximus seemed a man just passing the prime of life. +His figure, as he sat his horse, was squat rather than tall, though +this appearance might be due, in a measure, to the great breadth of his +shoulders; altogether his frame seemed one better adapted to feats of +strength and endurance than for those of agility. The face, with its +grizzled hair and beard, both cut short, suited well the figure that +bore it. Dignity, firmness, and kindliness were in its strong and +rugged outlines, with less, perhaps, of the pride of race and rank than +might have been looked for in the head of the great family whose name +he bore—he who was now twice dictator of the destinies of Rome. For +dress, his purple cloak, similar to those of his lictors, hung loosely +from his shoulders to below his knees, and, opening in front, disclosed +a corselet of leather overlaid with metal across chest and abdomen, and +embossed with bronze designs of ancient pattern and workmanship. The +hem of the white tunic showed below the leathern pendants that hung a +foot down from his girdle; the greaves were ornamented at the knees +with lions' heads; an armour-bearer carried his master's bronze helmet +with its crest of divergent red plumes. +</P> + +<P> +Such was the man upon whom Rome now depended for her saving—"for +victory," dreamed such of the unthinking as had recovered from their +terror; "for time, time, time," reasoned the man with the deep-set, +gray eyes upon whom they had pinned their faith. +</P> + +<P> +Hardly a stride behind him rode Marcus Minucius Rufus, tall and +well-built, with bold, coarse features and fierce, roving eyes. His +red hair bristled from his brow, and he seemed to restrain with +difficulty either his steed or himself from darting forward into the +lead. +</P> + +<P> +"Yonder is the sword of the Republic," said one of Sergius' men, as the +master-of-the-horse rode by the escort; but the man to whom he said +it—an old soldier of the Spanish wars—only shrugged his shoulders. A +moment later he grunted in reply:— +</P> + +<P> +"Like enough; but it is a shield that the Republic needs most of all." +</P> + +<P> +Then the clarion summoned them to fall in behind the dictator's +company, and the troop rode out from the gate—out into the broad +plain—away from the protecting walls fluctuant with waving stoles, and +from which tear-dimmed eyes strove to follow them among the villas, +farms, and orchards of the country-side—away from the Forum, from the +sacred fig tree and the black stone of Romulus—away from the divine +triad that kept guard over the Capitol. Beyond lay the Alban +Mountains, and, beyond these,—no one knew where,—the strange dangers +that awaited them: fierce Spaniards with slender blades as red as the +crimson borders of their white coats; wild Numidian riders that always +fell upon the rear of Rome's battle; serried phalanges of Africans, +veterans of fifty wars; naked Gauls with swords that lopped off a limb +at every stroke; Balearic slingers whose bullets spattered one's brains +over the ground; Cretans whose arrows could dent an aes at a hundred +yards; and above all, over all, the great mind, the unswerving, +unrelenting purpose that had blended all these elements into one +terrible engine of destruction to move and smite and burn and ravage at +the touch of a man's will. +</P> + +<P> +The cavalry rode two and two, thinking of such things; picked men, +equipped in the new Greek fashion with breastplate, stout buckler, and +strong spear pointed at both ends. What thoughts held the mind of the +general, none could fathom. With head slightly inclined he seemed to +study, now the ribbons woven in his horse's mane, now the small, +sensitive ears that pricked backward and forward, as the Tiburtine Way +flowed sluggishly beneath. As for Minucius, he alone seemed hopeful +and unimpressed by the dangers that menaced. He glided here and there, +reining his horse beside this senator or that lieutenant to utter a +word of the safety assured to Rome and of the ruin that hung over the +invader, or even calling back to the foremost of the escort some rough +badinage upon their gloomy looks; for Minucius was a man of the people, +scorning patrician pride of race, and wishing it known that, however +high his rank, he held himself no whit better than any potter of the +Aventine or weaver of the Suburra. +</P> + +<P> +So, riding, thinking, talking, they reached Tibur, where the new levies +lay encamped. +</P> + +<P> +Thence began the march of the army—a long, weary march to strike the +line of the Carthaginian devastators; and, as it rolled onward, the +stream of war gathered volume. At Daunia they were joined by the +legions of Servilius that had marched down from Ariminum; and, at every +point, contingents of the allies poured in, until even the most timid +began to believe it impossible that disaster could befall, and grew +first confident, then defiant, then boastful. +</P> + +<P> +To the mind of the dictator himself, however, came no such change. He +alone knew the danger, he alone knew the value of the force with which +he must meet it—soldiers in whose minds, despite all their present +spirit, lingered the tradition of defeat; raw levies not yet truly +confident of their officers or themselves, however much the sight of +their numbers and their brave show might blind them to the fact that +there was another side to the war. +</P> + +<P> +And now rumours began to reach them of the enemy. He was at Praetutia, +at Hadriana, at Marrucina, at Frentana! He had set out toward Iapygia! +he had reached Luceria! and everywhere the country was a garden before +him and a desert behind. Only one gleam of light shone through the +darkness,—the Apulians submitted to ravage, but they refused to save +their lands by joining fortunes with the invaders. +</P> + +<P> +At last came the day of trial. "The enemy was at hand." Scouts poured +in with news of foraging parties, of masses of troops on the march; and +at Aecae the dictator ordered the camp to be pitched and fortified in +the order that Roman discipline prescribed, with rampart and ditch and +stakes—a city in embryo. +</P> + +<P> +Now it was that the boasters must stand by their boasts. +</P> + +<P> +Scarcely had the morning broke, when the distant mist of the plain +seemed to sparkle with myriads of glittering points—seemed to thicken +and become dense with clouds of dust. Mingled noises came to the ears +of the waking legions,—the neighing of horses, the inarticulate murmur +of a multitude, the dull rumble of marching men, the ring of arms and +accoutrements. +</P> + +<P> +Then came the order from the praetorium,—not to advance the standards, +but to man the rampart and to repel. Such was not the custom of +Rome—to refuse battle amid the ravaged lands of her allies. Had the +heart of the dictator grown cold? Forthwith the pale cheeks of the +boasters flushed again; lips that had been compressed, before the +terrors they had so rashly invoked, parted in wonder and complaint; the +mist rose, and the sun pierced through the settling dust. There stood +the enemy, drawn up in order of battle across the plain, and waiting; +too far away for the Romans to make out their form or equipment—just a +long, dense array that seemed dark or light in spots. Now and again a +trumpet rang out its distant note of defiance; now and again some +portion of the line seemed to manoeuvre or change front, as if to tempt +attack, while from time to time a flurry of horsemen—dark-skinned +riders, bending low upon the necks of wiry little steeds and urging +them with shrill, barbarous cries—swept almost up to the ditch, and +brandished their darts, making obscene gestures and shouting words that +brought the blood to the faces of the garrison, though they understood +not the tongue that uttered them. +</P> + +<P> +A circle of officers surrounded the dictator's tent. Some were silent +and shamefaced; some were vociferous of their desire to be allowed to +go forth and fight, or, at least, to lead out the cavalry to chastise +the insolence of slaves and barbarians; all were wondering and +dissatisfied. Few, however, ventured to express their full thoughts. +There was a something in the very mildness of the general that +discouraged too direct criticism. Only Minucius, presuming, perhaps on +his position of second in command, perhaps on his contempt for the +great houses, sought the dictator's presence and spoke as if half to +him, half to the company of officers. Even his first words but thinly +veiled his feelings. +</P> + +<P> +"The enemy await us in line of battle, my master, but I do not see the +red flag above your tent. Is it your will that the standards be +advanced?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, Marcus, it is not my will, or the signal would have been +displayed," said Fabius, calmly. +</P> + +<P> +"The troops are eager to be led out; the enemy insult us up to the very +ditch. Italy is wasted," went on Minucius; but, as if slightly cowed +by the deep, gray eyes, his tone seemed less aggressive. +</P> + +<P> +Fabius paused a moment, before answering, and glanced around upon the +lowering faces of legates and tribunes. Then he said:— +</P> + +<P> +"It is proper, Quirites, that I should say something to you of my +plans. Our men are new—untried. Those that have seen service have +seen defeat. The enemy are flushed with victory, full of confidence in +themselves and their general, well seasoned in battle. Has the +Republic a new army if this be lost? But happily there is another side +to the picture. We are in our own lands. Our supplies are +inexhaustible; <I>we</I> receive; <I>they</I> must take. We shall wear them out +in skirmishes, cut off their foragers—men whom they cannot replace, +while we replace our losses daily and season ourselves in battle and +grow to see that even Carthaginians are not immortal." +</P> + +<P> +There was a moment of silence. Then Minucius spoke again. +</P> + +<P> +"And, while we pursue this prudent policy, what becomes of the spirit +of our men who see that their general dares not face the enemy? What +becomes of the allies who see their fields wasted and cities burned, +while Rome lies silent in her camps and offers no succour?" +</P> + +<P> +Fabius' brow clouded, but he spoke even more mildly than before. +</P> + +<P> +"There is much of truth in what you say Marcus; but I am convinced that +there is less danger in such risks than in tempting the fate of +Flaminius; and there are many compensations, together with certain +victory in the end." +</P> + +<P> +And then the master-of-the-horse lost control of his temper; his voice +rose, and he cried out:— +</P> + +<P> +"You are general and you command, but you shall hear me when I say that +I had rather have perished bravely with a Flaminius than live to +conquer in such cowardly fashion with a Fabius." +</P> + +<P> +A murmur of half-uttered applause ran around the circle, but Fabius did +not seem to hear it. He eyed his lieutenant calmly for an instant. +Then he said:— +</P> + +<P> +"You speak truth, Marcus, when you say that I am general;" and, turning +his back upon Minucius, he passed through the line of officers, as they +fell aside to give him way, and proceeded slowly toward the praetorian +gate. +</P> + +<P> +Here, among the soldiers, discontent with the dictator's policy was as +strong as it had been in the praetorium, while its expression was less +governed by the amenities of rank. Roman discipline, however severe as +to the acts of the legionary, put very few restrictions upon his +speech; and the general, as he watched from the rampart the lines and +movements of the enemy, heard many comments no less uncomplimentary +than those of his master-of-the-horse, and couched in language almost +as coarse as that of the Numidians themselves. It seemed as if the +foul words of the barbarians were passed on thus to the man held +responsible for Romans being compelled to listen to such insults. +</P> + +<P> +Curiously enough, the centurions and under officers appeared to be the +only ones not hostile to Fabius' policy. These were silent or even +made some efforts to restrain the ribaldry of their men. +</P> + +<P> +As for the general himself, no one could have appeared less conscious +of the storm his orders had provoked. His eyes were still fixed upon +the distant array, and when, as the sun almost touched the meridian, +Lucius Sergius approached with despatches just arrived from Rome, he +was compelled to speak twice before the other was aware of his +presence. Then the dictator turned quickly, and, pointing to the +Carthaginians, exclaimed:— +</P> + +<P> +"See! they are withdrawing. Do you not note how thin the centre grows? +Ah! I shall teach them new lessons of war—new lessons. They will find +in me no Flaminius, to let my enemy choose the day and field of battle." +</P> + +<P> +Leaving the ramparts, they walked back toward the praetorium, Fabius +breaking the seals and reading the letters as he walked. When they +reached the tent, he stood still for a moment and seemed to study the +face of the young tribune who had followed, a half pace behind, to +receive any answer or order that might be forthcoming. +</P> + +<P> +"What is your opinion of my refusing battle?" he asked suddenly, after +a short silence. +</P> + +<P> +Sergius turned crimson, but he answered quickly:— +</P> + +<P> +"I have learned to trust in my general until such time as I know him to +be unworthy of trust." +</P> + +<P> +Fabius smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"Some of your colleagues appear to have already arrived at the latter +conclusion," he said. Then, after a pause, he went on: "After all, it +is the judgment of the centurions that counts for most. Our legates +and tribunes feel disgraced by our refusing a challenge; they may be +sneered at for <I>that</I>, but who would blame <I>them</I> for the defeat that +might follow its acceptance. The common soldier knows only his rage +against the enemy, sees his comrades about him furious for battle, and +comprehends nothing of its dangers. It is the centurions, our +veterans, who realize the truth: the worth of their own men as measured +against those of the enemy; nor are they puffed up with foolish pride +of rank. You observe, sir, that the centurions are with me." +</P> + +<P> +Sergius bowed. +</P> + +<P> +"Now mark well what will happen," pursued Fabius. "Hannibal will +retreat to his camp; he will break camp and march off during the night. +He must have forage, and he cannot scatter his forces while I am near. +He will escape, and I shall let him, rather than risk the army in a +night battle; but I shall hang close as the father-wolf to the stag's +haunch, keeping nevertheless to the high ground, where his cavalry +cannot trouble me. There will be need of good horsemen who shall cling +yet closer and advise me of his movements." +</P> + +<P> +Sergius' eyes flashed with eagerness, but he said nothing. +</P> + +<P> +"You will attend to this service," continued Fabius, not seeming to +regard the young officer's exultation. "Take the other five turmae of +your legion—not those of the escort. You must have light cavalry to +cope with the Numidians, and your Greek horsemen are too heavily +equipped. Assemble your men, watch the enemy, follow him when he +marches tonight, cut off his stragglers, and send such words to me as +you consider necessary. This shall be your reward for trusting greater +things to your general." +</P> + +<P> +Turning, he entered the tent, before the tribune could express his +thanks. +</P> + +<P> +Deeply impressed by the favour and confidence of the dictator, Sergius +hurried away to his quarters, and, sending for Marcus Decius, the +decurion who had told the news of Trasimenus to the crowd of the Forum, +he directed him to see that the horses were fed and the men in +readiness for a night march. Then he resigned himself to sleep and +dreams of a certain pictured peristyle on the Palatine Hill,—a +peristyle wherein a maid sat spinning by a fountain and thinking—of +what? Perhaps of him—for he was only dreaming, and maidens do not +always think as men dream. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0105"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +V. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +TEMPTATION. +</H3> + + +<P> +The night was already far spent, and the Roman camp slept on, secure in +all its grim array; silent, but for the tread of the patrols, as they +paced the streets and exchanged the watchword, post with post, or but +for the clang of sword upon greave, or shield against cuirass, as some +sentry at gate, rampart or praetorium shifted his arms in weary waiting +for the day. +</P> + +<P> +Far up in the heavens the moon shone silvery and serene, while here and +there upon the plain below swaying points of light seemed to move, +flicker, go out, and rekindle again. No Roman watcher but knew well +that play of moonlight upon the heads of the reedlike spears with which +the ancient cavalry of the legion were equipped—weapons which, +together with their ox-hide bucklers, were being gradually superseded +by the heavier Greek accoutrements. Yes, and had not the word passed +from the guard at the praetorian gate, how a tribune and five turmae of +the fourth legion had ridden out on the service of the dictator? +</P> + +<P> +Earlier in the night, those who listened closely had heard a low hum +that seemed to pervade the air, rising and falling like the dull glow +in the west that told of the fluctuant watch-fires of the hostile camp. +Now the noises had died away, as in the distance, and the light that +had flashed up a few hours since hardly tinted the clouds. It is only +the old soldier who can read the signs of a decamping foe, who knows +how the fagots must be heaped at the moment of departure, so that the +deserted fires may burn until the morning, whose quick ear catches and +recognizes the indefinite noises of a host moving in secret. All these +things were, and old campaigners among the legionaries at the gate had +read them aright. Messenger after messenger hurried to the praetorium, +and returned with word that the dictator slept, "having taken all +needed measures," and how the master-of-the-horse paced up and down +before his tent, grinding his teeth, clenching his hands, and muttering +curses upon patrician cowardice and imbecility. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile, Lucius Sergius rode on through the night, with Marcus Decius +at his side, and the troop of horse trailing out across the plain +behind them. +</P> + +<P> +"It is silent, master," said the decurion, but his attitude, as he +leaned forward over his horse's neck, was rather of one trying to smell +than to listen. "The pulse-eaters sleep deeply." He watched Sergius +from under half-closed lids, waiting to be contradicted, that he might +measure his officer's warcraft. +</P> + +<P> +Sergius smiled. "Perhaps they are even wider awake than ourselves," he +said, drawing rein. Then, as the other nodded several times in +satisfied acquiescence, he brought his horse to his haunches a stride +beyond, and added: "It was the dictator who said we should find their +lair empty, and, though I do not question his judgment, it will be well +to send on a few who shall spy out the fact, and see whether there be +not Numidians lurking among the huts." +</P> + +<P> +So, slowly and cautiously, they pushed forward again, with riders in +advance, until a shout gave notice that the way was indeed clear, and +they rode through the open gate of the rampart and along the silent +street of the deserted camp. +</P> + +<P> +Nothing was about them save dismantled huts, for the most part mere +burrows with roofs of interlaced boughs that were now smoking amid the +ashes of the fires. Not a sign of disorder, nor even of the rapidity +with which so great an army had been moved; not a scale of armour left +behind—only the insufferable stench of a barbarian camp, of offal and +refuse piled or scattered about, of dead beasts and of dead men—the +sick and wounded who had yielded to sword or disease during the last +few days. +</P> + +<P> +It was with a sense of relief that the cavalcade emerged from the +shadows of the huts and began to mount the rising ground beyond. The +moon, too, had grown faint, and the gray mists of the morning were +lying along the lower levels. Sounds, mingled and far ahead, told of +the presence of a marching host, and Sergius led his troop on a more +oblique course to gain the flank of the foe and lessen the chances of +detection and ambuscade. +</P> + +<P> +It was not stirring work for a soldier—the days that followed; never +attacking, always guarding against discovery and surprise, viewing +slaughter and devastation that duty and weakness alike made him +powerless to prevent or punish, sending courier after courier to his +general to tell of the enemies' march or of stragglers and foragers to +be crushed in the jaws of the army that enveloped the invader's rear. +Thus the war passed through Apulia, over the Apennines, down into the +old Samnite lands, past Beneventum that closed its gates and mourned +over its devastated fields, on across the Volturnus, descending at last +into the Falernian plain, the glory of Campania, the Paradise of +Italian wealth and luxury. +</P> + +<P> +During all these days Sergius had grown thinner and browner. Little +furrows had been ploughed between the eyes that must pierce every ridge +and thicket for the glint of javelins and the wild faces of the +bridleless riders of the desert. From time to time news of devastators +cut to pieces brought a fierce joy to his heart; from time to time he +dreamt he saw the eagles of the Republic hovering upon the heights +above, ready to stoop and strike and save the allied lands from trials +greater than they could bear; but of Marcia, scarce a waking thought. +Surely the man he now was had never reclined in peaceful halls where +women plied the distaff and talked about love, and of how Rabuleius, +the perfume-maker of the Suburra, had just received a new essence from +Arabia! That old life was all a dream, perhaps the memory of a former +existence, as the sage of Croton had taught. There was nothing real in +the world, in these days, but fear and suffering and humiliation and +revenge. Even duty had become a mere habit that should minister to +greater influences. +</P> + +<P> +And now it was worst of all. Campania was a conflagration from which +rose supplications and shrieks and groans, mingled with curses against +the cowardly ally that had left her to her fate. Still the legions +held to the high ground, and still the black pest of Numidia swept +hither and thither on its errand of murder and rapine. Even to Sergius +the plans of the dictator began to seem but "coined lead," as Marcus +Decius roughly put it. Of what avail was it that the pass at Tarracina +was blocked, that he had garrisoned Casilinum in the enemies' rear and +Cales upon the Latin Way, and that the sea and the Volturnus and the +steep hills with their guarded passes seemed to complete the line of +circumvallation? Could such bonds hold one so wise as Hannibal from +the rich cities of the plain? Unless Rome would advance her standards, +were not Sinuessa and Cumae, Puteoli and Neapolis, Nuceria and Teanum, +and, above all, Capua, left to fight their own battle against barbarian +insolence and barbarian power? What hope to starve out an enemy +established in such a region and amid such affluence! +</P> + +<P> +Then, too, there was less work now for Sergius, even such as it was. +The enemy, wheresoever he marched, was well in view from a dozen points +held by the dictator, and at last word came to the tribune that he +should join the camp near Casilinum. There, at least, he would have +companionship in shame, instead of seeming to command men and being +unwilling to lead them to fight for lands which the gods themselves had +deemed worthy of their contention. +</P> + +<P> +They were near Cales when the orders were brought. Could it be the +dictator's intention to give battle and avenge what he had failed to +save? By midday they were mounted and threading the forest paths that +led to their comrades—paths whence, from time to time, some vista in +the woods disclosed the plain below, with here and there a column of +smoke that made Sergius grind his teeth and clench his hands in +impotent rage. Suddenly he drew rein, for a man, dressed in the +coarse, gray tunic of a slave, had half run, half stumbled across his +way. An instant more, and the fellow was struggling in the grasp of +Decius, who had sprung to the ground. +</P> + +<P> +"What now, forkbearer! what now, delight of the scourges!" cried the +decurion. "Will you delay the march of a tribune of the Republic?" +</P> + +<P> +"Pity me, master, pity me and let me go!" cried the man, still striving +vainly to escape. "Surely they are close behind me—" +</P> + +<P> +"Who are behind you?" asked Sergius, sternly. "Speak and lie not, food +for Acheron!" +</P> + +<P> +"They who are burning the farm." +</P> + +<P> +Sergius' eyes glittered, and he leaned forward to catch the words, as +he began to gather their import. +</P> + +<P> +"Speak quickly, and you shall be safe," he said, in more reassuring +tones. "Whose farm is it that is burning? Loose him, Marcus." +</P> + +<P> +Released from the hands that held him, the fugitive seemed to waver for +a moment between speech and flight. Perhaps exhaustion turned the +balance, for, still panting for breath, he threw himself on his knees +before Sergius' bridle and gasped:— +</P> + +<P> +"My master's farm—a veteran of the first war—a centurion—the +Numidians." +</P> + +<P> +"Where is it? How many are there?" +</P> + +<P> +The man pointed down the slope up which he had scrambled. +</P> + +<P> +"I did not note their numbers, lord. Perhaps a hundred—perhaps more." +</P> + +<P> +As he spoke, the sky began to brighten as with fire, and Sergius, +wheeling his horse, urged him downward toward the plain. Decius was by +his side in an instant, and behind them came the cavalry at a speed +that threatened to hurl them headlong to the foot of the rocky +declivity. Joy and fury shone on the faces of the men: only Marcus +Decius seemed troubled and abstracted. +</P> + +<P> +"We shall be with them soon, my Marcus," cried Sergius, gayly, and +then, noting the furrowed face of his first decurion: "Surely, +Trasimenus has not cooled your heart. Take courage. There is no water +here to chill you." +</P> + +<P> +Decius flushed through the deep bronze of his skin. +</P> + +<P> +"It is true that there is no water here, and blows might warm my blood. +It was the command of the dictator that I thought of." +</P> + +<P> +They had reached the level plain now. A cluster of burning buildings +hardly a mile ahead marked their goal. +</P> + +<P> +"And it is you, Marcus, who have been railing at those same commands?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am an old soldier, my master. I growl, but I obey." +</P> + +<P> +For answer, Sergius urged on his horse with knee and thong. Now they +could distinguish dark shapes gliding hither and thither around the +fires, and now they burst in upon a scene as of the orgies of demons. +</P> + +<P> +Utterly unsuspicious of danger, the marauders had taken no precautions. +Their wiry, little horses had been turned loose about the gardens, +while the riders murdered and pillaged and ravished and destroyed. The +worst was over now. Little remained of the buildings, save clay walls +covered with plaster; dead bodies were scattered here and there; the +women and such of the slaves as had not been slaughtered, together with +the farm stock and other things of value, were gathered beyond the +reach of the fires; while, bound high upon a rude cross before his own +threshold, the master of the farm writhed amid flames that shot upward +to lick his hands and face. +</P> + +<P> +Then, in an instant, the scene was changed: the Roman horsemen burst +in, and, frenzied by the spectacle before them, slew madly and fast. +Hither and thither they swept, wherever the dusky figures sought to +fly, and the thin, reed-like lances rose and plunged and rose again, +shivering and dripping, from the bodies of their victims. But for +their well-trained steeds, who came and knelt at their masters' calls, +not one of the desert horsemen could have escaped, and, as it was, a +mere dozen broke out from the carnage and scurried away, with the +avengers in close and relentless pursuit. Marcus Decius paused a +moment before the cross and studied the torn frame and blackened skin +of the man who hung there. Then, with a swift movement of his lance, +he transfixed the quivering body, and, hardly catching the "Jove bless +thee, comrade," and the sigh with which life escaped, he dashed on +after the pursuing squadrons. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0106"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VI. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +DISOBEDIENCE. +</H3> + + +<P> +That the chase was doomed to be a vain one seemed apparent. Once mounted +and urging on their steeds with the shrill, barbaric cries of the desert, +Hannibal's light horsemen were safe from all ordinary pursuit. One after +another of the Romans drew up his panting animal, and scarce half of +their turmae pounded on. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly they saw the flying Numidians throw their horses upon their +haunches. A moment of indecision followed, and then, while several +darted off obliquely, the remainder, seven or eight in all, swung around +and charged straight at the legionaries. At their head rode a giant, +black as ebony save where gouts of red had splashed him with the hue of +terror. His frizzly hair was caught up high and ornamented with a +cluster of ostrich feathers, while with his right hand he drew javelin +after javelin from the sheaf he carried in his left, and launched them +with unerring aim at his former pursuers. Three had flown on their +errands, two had brought down a soldier each, and the third quivered in +the throat of Sergius' horse. Then, as the animal reared and went over, +carrying his rider with him, the assailant burst through the line, and in +a moment had gained the open plain beyond. Once more he was safe, safe +but for one short, thick-set rider,—Marcus Decius, first decurion of the +first turma, hastening to overtake his troop. +</P> + +<P> +Escape from such a pursuer was child's play for the Numidian; but the +fury of fight was on him, and, gnashing his white teeth, from which the +thick, black lips seemed to writhe away, he bent low amid his horse's +mane and, with an inarticulate cry, urged him straight at the veteran. +His javelins had all been expended in breaking through the Roman line, +and a short, heavy dagger was his only weapon. Nothing daunted, he came +on, evaded like a flash the thrust of Decius' spear, and hurled himself +upon him. It was the small buckler of the Roman that saved his life; the +dagger passed through the ox-hide, slightly gashing his arm, and, before +the barbarian could withdraw it, the impact of the horses in full career +had sent both men and animals to the plain in a floundering heap. Again +the Numidian was quicker, and, gaining his feet, he sprang, weaponless as +he was, upon the decurion still struggling to untangle himself from his +fallen horse. The buckler, with the African's knife thrust through it, +had rolled away, and the possession of Decius' sword, which hung in its +sheath upon his right thigh, became the object of the struggle. Perhaps +the strength of the men was not very unequal; but the Roman, hardly free +from his mount, was undermost and wounded, so that the result seemed +hardly doubtful. The Numidian's charger had risen to its feet, and +stood, with out-stretched neck, whinnying softly, as if sharing in the +excitement of the contest. Then the trampling of hoofs sounded in the +ears of the straining combatants. Decius felt his adversary make a +convulsive effort as if to free himself, and then a gush of something +warm came into the Roman's face, and his foe sank down upon him, limp and +helpless. With a last effort of his spent strength, he pushed the +twitching body aside, and, staggering to his feet, saw Sergius standing +beside him, with a dripping sword in his hand, and the bridle of Titus +Icilius', the flag-bearer's, horse thrown over his left arm. +</P> + +<P> +Remounting, they rode slowly back to their troop, and then the cause of +the strange boldness of the fugitives was disclosed. Advancing across +the plain directly in the path of their flight came four hundred of the +allied cavalry, whom the dictator had sent out to reconnoitre, and, +caught thus between two lines, the Numidians had, for the most part, +chosen to take their chances against the weaker force. Not one of the +marauders was alive, but they had sold their lives dearly; for a dozen of +the Romans also were dead, and a score more showed wounds that marked +this last spasm of barbarian frenzy. +</P> + +<P> +While the men talked together, Sergius sought the praefect of the new +detachment, a Hostilian of the family of Mancinus, whom he recalled among +the young hot-heads that formed the party of the master-of-the-horse, and +declaimed against the policy of Fabius as cowardly and base. He found +him in the best possible humour, laughing and making coarse jests amid a +circle of decurions and optios—as rude a Roman as marched with the +standards, yet able, when occasion demanded, to play the man of fashion +who had spent a year at Athens. The latter mood fell upon him when he +descried Sergius. He came forward to meet him. +</P> + +<P> +"Health to you, my Lucius!" he cried, "Surely the gods have held you in +especial favour this day. I am told you have cut up a few squadrons of +this African offal." +</P> + +<P> +"With your timely aid," replied Sergius, bowing. +</P> + +<P> +"I but made the hares double to your coursing," said Hostilius, +carelessly; "and they tell me you have won both the spolia opima and a +civic crown. That is a great deal for one day—and under a peaceful +dictator." +</P> + +<P> +Sergius flushed. +</P> + +<P> +"I shall not claim them," he said. "Doubtless, Decius would have both +slain the fellow and saved himself had I not come up—" +</P> + +<P> +"No modesty! no modesty!" cried Hostilius, gayly. "I assure you it is +even less Greek than Roman in these days. Lo! now, I myself will claim +both for you at Rome, if only to show that I do not grudge you your share +of the carrion. Perhaps such honours will not prejudice you in a certain +house on the Palatine," he added, slyly. "But come! you and I shall join +our forces and raid together. We have sent two hundred to Acheron since +we left the camp, and birds have been singing on our left all the +morning." +</P> + +<P> +"Where is the dictator now?" asked Sergius. +</P> + +<P> +"In his tent, of course," replied the other, scornfully. "And no one +cares where that may be." +</P> + +<P> +"And you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! he was persuaded at last to risk a scouting party, and, at the +request of the brave Minucius, he gave the command to me with strict +injunctions to use only my eyes. Well, I have used them so sharply that +my hands, too, have been full," and Hostilius laughed. "There are some +five hundred of the cross-food that have evaded me thus far. We shall +catch them now, though, and, together, it will be easy for us to prevail." +</P> + +<P> +Sergius was silent. To make a dash from the heights in defence of allies +dying in his sight, was one thing; to deliberately join this +insubordinate in turning a reconnaissance into a raid, was another and +much more serious matter. +</P> + +<P> +The praefect noted his hesitation, and a slight frown chased the smile +from his lips. +</P> + +<P> +"Or perhaps you prefer to obey the old woman's orders," he added, "and +keep your couch warm. Well, our men and horses are fed by this time, and +I am off. If you are a Roman, I greet you to ride with me; if you fear +robbers or the axe that smote Titus Manlius, why, I will bid you farewell +and ride alone." +</P> + +<P> +"Where do you set your course?" queried Sergius, with a vague hope of at +least seeming to combine inclination with duty. +</P> + +<P> +"Toward the enemy," replied the other, shortly. "Does not the direction +please you?" and he turned to his horse. +</P> + +<P> +Sergius' brow clouded. His blood was hot with the conflict just +finished. Youth, courage—all combined to turn him from obedience; but +obedience bade fair to conquer, when Marcia's laugh rang in his ears, and +he could hear her gravely complimenting his prudence and discoursing on +the rare value of docility in a husband. Besides, what did it all +matter? Had he not said that he sought death? and, surely, the way it +came soonest was the best. +</P> + +<P> +Placing his hand upon his horse's withers, he vaulted upon its back, +before the animal had time to kneel, and a moment later was beside +Hostilius. +</P> + +<P> +"By Hercules!" exclaimed the latter; "I am glad you are here. Even in +these days of strange things, I would have found it difficult to imagine +that a Sergian could be a coward." +</P> + +<P> +"And now," cried Sergius, "you will only have to imagine him a fool. So +be it, and let the cost of his life pay for his folly." +</P> + +<P> +"Jupiter avert the omen!" exclaimed Hostilius, shuddering, and then, +turning to his trumpeter, he bade him give the signal for the march. +</P> + +<P> +It was a desolate country—the fair plains of Campania through which they +rode. Here and there a cluster of blackened ruins, here and there things +that were once men, fruit trees cut down, vines uprooted, corn-fields +reaped with the sword; while far away upon the horizon smoky columns +curled up to show that the work of devastation still went on. +</P> + +<P> +"May Mavers curse him—curse him forever!" cried Hostilius, grinding his +teeth in rage at each new manifestation of the enemy's handiwork. "Could +the most disastrous battle be worse than this?" +</P> + +<P> +Sergius was silent. In a way his feelings went out to meet those of his +companion; but the dictator had trusted him, and he had disobeyed, and, +for all his disobedience, his soldier's instinct told him that the +dictator was right. +</P> + +<P> +Hostilius eyed him sharply and suspiciously, as if trying to divine his +thoughts. +</P> + +<P> +"If you regret—" he began. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly a decurion of the allies dashed up beside them. +</P> + +<P> +"Look!" he cried, pointing toward the east. "There is carrion for the +wolves." +</P> + +<P> +Both leaders turned at the words. +</P> + +<P> +Far out across the plain was what seemed at first sight like a clump of +dark foliage, save that it moved and changed shape too much. +</P> + +<P> +"Numidians!" exclaimed the decurion, following his finger with his +speech, while the veins in Hostilius' forehead began to swell and grow +dark. +</P> + +<P> +"The signal! Let it be given," he cried to his officer, and, turning, he +dug his knees into his horse's sides and galloped toward the distant +quarry. A moment later the cavalry wheeled at the trumpet call, and, in +some disorder but full of eagerness, began the pursuit of their leader. +</P> + +<P> +As for Sergius, he, too, gave order and rein, though more deliberately, +and his troop followed the cavalry of the allies in somewhat better +array. By his side galloped Decius with an expression hard to analyze +upon his weather-beaten face. +</P> + +<P> +Sergius glanced at the old soldier from time to time with a look of +inquiry and concern. At last he ventured to question his grim mentor. +</P> + +<P> +"Is it well or ill, Marcus?" +</P> + +<P> +"Ill for you that command, well for me who obey," growled the other, and +Sergius flushed and was silent. +</P> + +<P> +"Shall we catch them?" he asked, a few moments later, for the clump of +Numidians, who had sat motionless upon their horses until the Romans +covered half the intervening distance, had now wheeled for flight. +</P> + +<P> +"If they be too strong for us, we shall catch them," replied Decius. "It +is as they will." +</P> + +<P> +And now it became apparent that the marauders were far inferior in +numbers to the assailants, and that they recognized the fact; for flight +and pursuit began in earnest. Horses were urged to higher speed. At one +moment the Numidians seemed to be holding their distance; at another, the +Romans gained slightly but unmistakably. All order of detachments and +turmae was soon lost; Romans and allies, officers and men, were mingled +together in a straggling mass, with naught but the eagerness of the +riders and the speed of their animals to marshal them. Only Decius +continued to pound along, with his horse's nose at his tribune's elbow. +The thunder of many hundred hoofs rolled across the plain. +</P> + +<P> +"By Hercules! we shall do it!" cried Sergius, in whom ardour of the chase +had put to flight all sentiments of regret or doubt. "Do you not see we +are gaining?" +</P> + +<P> +"They ride silently yet," said Decius. "It is but knee-speed with them. +Wait till they cry out to their horses, and we shall see." +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly, as if to supplement the words, a single shrill cry, half +whistle, half scream, rose up ahead. Had they been closer, they might +have noted the pricking ears of the desert steeds; but this much they +saw:—one horse and rider darting out of the press, like arrow from bow, +and scurrying away over the plain as if their former gait had been but a +hand-gallop. +</P> + +<P> +An instant of misgiving came to some few of the Romans, who were not +blind to everything but the excitement of the moment, but they, like the +rest, only plied knee and thong the harder, and the episode of the single +rider was forgotten by all save Marcus Decius and Sergius. +</P> + +<P> +"It is a trap, master," said the former, with an inquiring glance at his +leader. +</P> + +<P> +Sergius bowed his head, and his face was troubled, as he replied:— +</P> + +<P> +"I know it, my Marcus, but we cannot turn back now. I have accepted the +feast: therefore I must recline until my host gives the signal to rise. +I pray you pardon me." +</P> + +<P> +By a quick movement Decius urged his horse a stride ahead of the +tribune's, that he might the better hide his emotion; at the same time +growling:— +</P> + +<P> +"I pardon you?—and for the chance of a blow at the scum? I thank you +many times." +</P> + +<P> +And now, from the plain ahead rose a low range of rolling hills over +which a light cloud seemed to hover. Was it the ascent that wearied the +horses of the Numidians? Surely the space between pursuers and pursued +was lessening rapidly, and Hostilius leaned far forward, shaking his +spear and calling upon his men for a renewed effort. +</P> + +<P> +"Now! now!" he cried. "See! they are spent! Up with them ere they top +the hill!" +</P> + +<P> +But the Numidians gained the sought-for ridge, if only by a few +spear-lengths' lead, and the cloud, now close ahead, hung so dense that +there were those who thought it the smoke of another farm. Decius' eyes +seemed set in a dazed stare. There was too much red in that cloud, and +yet it was not the red of fire, and it was too light and too thin for +smoke. He knew it; he had known it all along, but what did it matter? +The last Numidian had disappeared down the opposite slope—no! surely +they had turned again, and in a longer line—a thicker one; and the light +javelins and naked black bodies had become long, stout spears and +glittering corselets, while at their head rode a slender man with forked +beard, and his black eyes seemed to burn in his head like coals. So, +with one barbaric roar, the whole array poured down over the allied +cavalry, and these were like the dust of the trampled field. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0107"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VII. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +PUNISHMENT. +</H3> + + +<P> +Sergius hardly knew what was happening. He was conscious that the +stride of his horse had been checked by a dense mass of plunging +animals in front—a mass that grew more dense and more tangled with +every instant. Those behind were still endeavouring to press forward, +and those in front were hurled back upon them or were striving +frantically to break through the rearmost squadrons and escape; while, +shrill above the clash of arms and the shouts and screams, rose a name +that Sergius found himself listening to with a sort of curious interest. +</P> + +<P> +"Maharbal! Maharbal!" came the cry, nearer and nearer. +</P> + +<P> +At the first moment of the check, Marcus Decius had pushed the sturdy +horse that he rode well to the fore. He saw Hostilius riding back, +waving one arm and crying out incoherent words: his spear was gone, and +the head of a Spaniard's lance had been thrust through his shoulder and +broken off, so that a third of the shaft hung from the wound. +</P> + +<P> +Then what had happened and the hopelessness of it all became apparent. +Like the veriest fools they had ridden into the snare, and Maharbal, +the Carthaginian, with at least two thousand Spanish and African +horsemen, was thundering on their front and flanks: their front—but in +a moment, their rear; for now those who had not been ridden down at the +first onset or become inextricably entangled with their fellows broke +away over the plain, carrying their officers with them in a mad frenzy +of flight; while other Numidians—fresh riders on fresh steeds—urged +the pursuit and smote down the hindermost. +</P> + +<P> +Decius found himself riding in the middle of the press. His face was +as imperturbable as ever, though he glanced over his shoulder from time +to time as if to note how much nearer death had come. Sergius galloped +close behind him, careless and abstracted, his rein lying loose on his +charger's steaming neck. Then, of a sudden, a resolve seemed to come +to him. Straightening himself, he urged the weary horse forward +through the fugitives till he drew up even with Hostilius, who, still +frantic with panic, was now swaying in his saddle from the pain and +loss of blood. +</P> + +<P> +Sergius leaned over and laid his hand upon the other's arm, and +Hostilius started as if he had touched a serpent. Then he became +calmer, and a troubled look was in the eyes that sought the tribune's +face. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I know," he said at last, speaking hurriedly and in odd, strained +accents. "I led you into it, and now I am flying." +</P> + +<P> +"Let us turn back," said Sergius, mildly. "I do not reproach you, but +let us turn back. Surely it is better than the rods and axe." +</P> + +<P> +Hostilius shuddered, and, at that moment, Decius, who had overtaken +them, broke in with:— +</P> + +<P> +"By Hercules! there is no fear of those. They cut us down in flight. +The choice is, shall we have it in the face or between the shoulders." +</P> + +<P> +"By the gods of Rome, then!" shouted the praefect, suddenly reining up, +while Sergius and Decius swung their horses in short circles. +</P> + +<P> +There was no trumpet to give the signal, and the little cavalry banner +had gone down long ago; but such was the force of Roman training that +nearly all of Sergius' men and half of the allies turned in mid-panic +with their leaders. To make head, much less to form was impossible, +for the foremost of the enemy were well mingled with the rearmost +fugitives. As Decius had said, it was only a choice of deaths: the one +swift and honourable, the other more lingering, but none the less +inevitable. +</P> + +<P> +Almost in a moment it was over. Between two and three hundred of the +united detachments had fallen already, and the hundred or so that now +sought to face about, went down in a crushed and bleeding mass under +the thousands of hoofs that overwhelmed them. Such was the weight and +impetus of the pursuing force that there was no time even to strike, +and most of the victims fell unwounded by spear or javelin. Sergius +was vaguely conscious that he had seen the praefect cloven through the +head by the short, swordlike Numidian knife, his own horse seemed to +collapse under him, and that was the end. +</P> + +<P> +Then he knew that it was dark and cold and that there was a howling in +the air, as of beasts of prey, and the shadow of a man fell across him, +for the moon was in the heavens, and the man was cursing by all the +gods of the Capitol. +</P> + +<P> +Gradually consciousness returned, and he recalled, incident by +incident, the happenings of the past day. He had been lying still, +thus far, without further wish than to look up at the stars and think +and listen to what he now knew was the distant howling of wolves and +the nearer curses of Marcus Decius. At last he stirred slightly, and +the decurion turned and looked down. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you live, master?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, truly," replied Sergius; "unless you chance to be a shade." +</P> + +<P> +Then he struggled to his feet, and the two gazed silently at each other +and around them. All about, in the moonlight, lay the bodies of horses +and men, the latter glittering in their white tunics, save here and +there an officer whose helmet and breastplate had seemed to mark out +his corpse for stripping and nameless desecrations. Sergius' +head-piece was gone, but he glanced at his own corselet and then at +Decius. +</P> + +<P> +"We were buried together under a heap of dead," said the latter, in +answer to the unasked query. "They made haste in their spoiling; and, +when they had gone, I drew myself free and found you: the wolves are +feasting well to-night; can you walk?" +</P> + +<P> +Sergius moved stiffly a few steps. He felt bruised from head to foot, +and one arm hung useless from a dislocated shoulder, but he found no +wound. Decius had not escaped so lightly. Besides the gash he had +received earlier in the day, he had been cut again across the forehead, +but his prodigious strength seemed to have inexhaustible resources to +draw upon. +</P> + +<P> +"Come," he said. "We must go southward as quickly as possible. +Sergius still walked slowly about, glancing at one corpse after +another, until the decurion, at last divining his thought, broke in +roughly:— +</P> + +<P> +"Come! The wolves must provide him sepulchre as they will do for +better men. What would he have? The she-wolf suckled the twins. Let +Hostilius pay the debt by feeding the she-wolf's cubs. By Hercules! +other sepulchre for him means need of one for ourselves." +</P> + +<P> +So speaking, he at last drew Sergius away, and they began their weary +tramp across the field. +</P> + +<P> +"If I could have seen but one pulse-eater among the slain," said the +tribune, after they had gone some distance in silence. +</P> + +<P> +"I know of one that should be dead," remarked Decius, grimly, "if a +spear through his midriff be enough for him. Truly the ancient shafts +are useless in close fight, save for a single thrust. I, for one, +welcome the Greek equipment—and the sooner the better." +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly Sergius stopped and laid his hand upon his comrade's arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Look!" he said. +</P> + +<P> +A long, low rampart seemed to rise up from the plain two hundred yards +ahead. +</P> + +<P> +"Their camp," said the decurion, after a short pause, "and deserted. +Let us go forward cautiously; perhaps we shall find food." +</P> + +<P> +Step by step they crept up, walking faster and more erect as they drew +nearer and as the evidence that life was not there became more apparent. +</P> + +<P> +"They have left it only to-night," said Decius, clambering up the mound +of earth and sniffing the air. "Had it been a day old, we should have +smelt it long ago, though the wind blows from us." +</P> + +<P> +Then, as they descended and traversed the silent lanes, a puzzled +expression came to his face, and he halted from time to time. +</P> + +<P> +Sergius eyed him inquiringly. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you not smell fresh blood?" said the veteran, at last. "I remember +when we marched with Lucius Aemilius, after the Gauls had beaten the +praetor's army at Clusium. There were ten thousand men just slain, and +the air was salt like the sea—by Jupiter! What is this?" +</P> + +<P> +Resuming their advance, they had come upon a space of open ground near +the centre of the camp, doubtless the spot reserved for a market; but +what meat was it that cumbered the shambles, without buyer or seller? +Piled in ghastly heaps, or covering the ground two and three deep, lay +a fresh-reaped harvest of corpses, stripped, distorted, gleaming in the +moonlight. Could it be that the camp had been taken? But these were +no African dead, nor yet was this a Roman camp. There was a set +deliberation, too, about the slaughter, that told no tale of battle. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly Decius cried out and, stooping down, raised the hands of one +of the victims—hands upon which the shackles still hung. +</P> + +<P> +"Slaves," murmured Sergius; "but why—" +</P> + +<P> +"Say, rather, prisoners," said the centurion, grimly. +</P> + +<P> +Sergius struck his thigh. It was all clear to him now. +</P> + +<P> +"May the plague fall upon him! may he go to a thousand crosses! Do you +not see? He is <I>escaping</I>. He has made for the passes and slain his +prisoners, that they may not hamper his march. Who knows but that by +now he is on the road to Rome? Gods! This was Hostilius' duty and +mine, and we wasted our time and our men on a few score of miserable +Numidians. Come, my Marcus, come: there are no such things as wounds +or weariness or caution. We must reach the dictator at once, and may +the gods grant that it be not too late!" +</P> + +<P> +Marcus Decius had been gazing gloomily at the young man, as the words +burst from his lips. +</P> + +<P> +"Where shall we go, and how?" he said, with a despairing gesture. +</P> + +<P> +"On our feet," cried Sergius. "Did I not say that weariness and wounds +were not? It is for the life of the Republic: I to the camp near +Casilinum; you to Tarracina. They will march by the Appian or by the +Latin Way, if they strike for Rome. If not, the plan may not be fatal." +</P> + +<P> +Decius yielded to the decision of his companion, and, with hasty +fingers, they unlaced each other's corselets and hurried out of the +camp, each to run his race with what strength remained. The last clasp +of hands had been given and received, when, far away on the hills east +and northeast, the quick eye of Sergius caught the gleam of a rapidly +moving torch: then another and another and another seemed to flame out +in the night, like stars when the moon has failed, until the whole +range of heights blazed with fires that flashed and danced and crossed +and recrossed each other in mad confusion, as if all the thronging +bacchanals of Greece had assembled for one frenzied orgy. +</P> + +<P> +Dazed and confounded by the spectacle, as grand as it was weird and +unexplainable, they stood spell-bound, powerless each to take the first +stride. Decius, the older man, the veteran, turned to his companion, +yielding that unconscious homage to birth and rank and education, that +comes in the presence of unknown perils. No experience of war could +help him here, and his mind leaped at once to the supernatural for an +explanation. As for the tribune, such thoughts, at least, had not +occurred to him. Greek scepticism had already gained too strong a hold +upon young Romans of rank, to let them regard the theology of the State +other than as a machinery devised by wise men to control an ignorant +rabble. Besides, his mind had taken another direction from the +discovery of the slaughter of the prisoners, and, humanlike, it ran on +in its channel, right or wrong. +</P> + +<P> +Decius was trembling violently. +</P> + +<P> +"Truly, master, the gods of Carthage are loose to-night," said he. +</P> + +<P> +There was even a little of contempt in the glance with which Sergius +noted the abject terror of the sturdy veteran. Utterly at a loss to +explain the apparitions, he never doubted for a moment but that they +were the product of some human wile. +</P> + +<P> +"Come," he said shortly. "The gods of Carthage have favoured us in +lighting the way. First of all, we shall go together and learn the +truth." Without waiting for a reply, he set off, at an easy, loping +gait, in the direction of the strange fires. Decius followed, as he +would have followed through the portals of Avernus. +</P> + +<P> +The distance to the heights was not great,—four or five miles at the +utmost,—but half an hour had passed, and still the spectacle, wilder +and more brilliant than ever, remained unexplained. For a stretch of +miles, the hills above, beyond, and below were all ablaze with rushing +flames that seemed guided by no sentient agency; then, suddenly, a +single torch glanced out from a small grove of trees a short distance +ahead and darted diagonally across their path. Decius stopped for an +instant, with trembling knees; but Sergius bounded forward to intercept +the torch-bearer, and the veteran followed from sheer shame. +</P> + +<P> +Up, down to the ground, up again, and then around in frantic waving +circles swept the flame: a mad bellowing rolled through the night, +until the tribune himself almost checked his stride in awe-struck +wonder. The next instant the torch, if torch it was, seemed to +flounder to the earth, from which it rose again and came driving +directly toward him, explained at last,—an ox with a great bundle of +blazing fagots fastened between its horns, blinded, frantic with pain +and terror. +</P> + +<P> +Sergius sprang aside, as the beast dashed by; but Decius, roused once +more to the possibility of independent thought and action, stepped +toward it and, as it passed, plunged his sword between its heaving ribs. +</P> + +<P> +"What now, my master?" he said, flushing with shame at his fears of the +last hour—perhaps the bravest hour of his life. "Does the lying +Carthaginian seek to terrify Quintus Fabius, the dictator, as he +terrified Marcus Decius, the decurion?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, truly," replied Sergius, gloomily; "and he will succeed even +better. No general, and, least of all, ours, would lead out his army +in the night against such a spectacle. Come, it is necessary that we +should reach the camp," and, turning once again, they fell to running +in a more southern direction, where a dim glow in the sky seemed to +tell of the watchfires of an army. +</P> + +<P> +At first no sound broke the stillness of the night, save the laboured +breathing of the weary runners and the strokes of their leathern +cothurni upon the hard ground; but soon other noises came to mingle +with these and, at last, to drown them: the lowing of thousands of +cattle, now scattered far and wide over the plain and hillsides, and +then the distant clash of arms and the cries of combatants. +</P> + +<P> +Day began to dawn, just as the fugitives came in sight of the Roman +camp with the army drawn up behind its ramparts, waiting for they knew +not what. Here and there upon the heights they could see small bodies +of legionaries who defended themselves against light troops of the +enemy, until overwhelmed by the Spanish infantry that scaled the hills +and cut them to pieces; while to every prayer that the dictator should +march out to their support, he returned one grim answer. +</P> + +<P> +"They deserted their posts in the passes. Rome needs not such +soldiers." +</P> + +<P> +So, company by company, the guards of the defiles, terrified or lured +away to the ridges by the ruse of the cattle and the blazing fagots, +fell ingloriously before their comrades' eyes, as being men not worth +the effort to succour. The rear-guard of the invaders had already made +its way through the pass, while the Carthaginian van was well on into +the valley of the Volturnus. Now, too, the African light troops +disappeared, and, at last, the white tunics of the Spaniards, gay with +their purple borders, glittered for a moment on the hilltops, and then, +their work of death completed, sank away behind the ridges to fall back +and join their comrades in a march of new destruction through a new +country. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0108"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VIII. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +DISGRACE. +</H3> + + +<P> +While these things were happening, for the most part in the sight of +all, Sergius had been able to gain a moment's speech with the dictator. +Forcing his way through the crowd of tribunes and officers who thronged +the praetorium, he had found Fabius seated before his tent, and had +told his story in the fewest words possible. +</P> + +<P> +Naked but for his torn tunic and his cothurni, covered from head to +foot with blood and mire, his left arm hanging useless, and his face +like the face of a dead man, neither his miserable plight nor his story +brought softness to the stern lips and brow of the general. +</P> + +<P> +"You have come to tell me this?" he said, when the other had finished +speaking. "Do I not know it <I>now</I>?" and he pointed to the heights. +Then he turned away and spoke with some one at his side, while Sergius +stood, with downcast eyes, swaying and scarcely able to keep his feet. +</P> + +<P> +Among those around him his fate seemed hardly a matter of conjecture, +but a thrill went through the company when Minucius, who had been +vainly urging the dictator to support the guards of the passes, now +turned away in disgust, and, noting the disgraced officer, as if for +the first time, cried out in a loud voice:— +</P> + +<P> +"What, my friend! have not the lictors attended to you, yet, for +venturing to play the man?" +</P> + +<P> +Sergius felt the added danger to which the master-of-the-horse had +exposed him by using his insubordination to point such a moral to his +commander; but the face of the dictator gave no sign that he had even +heard the taunting challenge. Calmly he gave his orders for cautious +scouting, for breaking camp, and for the army to resume its patient +march of observation, along the flank of the retiring foe. Then, when +one after another had retired to fulfil his commands, he turned again +to the waiting tribune. +</P> + +<P> +"I have been considering your fault," he said slowly, "and I had marked +you out as a much needed victim for the rods and axe. Go to my +master-of-the-horse and thank him for your life. His taunt was +doubtless meant to destroy you, in order that he might play the +demagogue over your fate. I accept it as a challenge to my +self-control. It is more necessary that I should show myself wise and +forbearing than that one fool should perish for his folly. Go back to +Rome, and tell them that I have many soldiers who can fight, and that I +want only those who can obey." +</P> + +<P> +Utterly exhausted, Sergius struggled vainly to withstand this last, +crushing blow. His composure was unequal to the task, and, sinking +upon his knees, as the dictator turned toward the tent, he could only +stretch out one hand and murmur:— +</P> + +<P> +"The axe, my master; I pray you, the axe." +</P> + +<P> +Fabius paused a moment and eyed him grimly. Then his rugged, weary +face softened slightly. +</P> + +<P> +"I trusted you," he said. "Could you not trust me for a little while? +But go to Rome, as I bade you—only there shall others go with you, and +you shall bear for your message, instead of that one, this: that there +is no room for wounded men in my camp." +</P> + +<P> +"But I shall be well in two days—in one—I am well now if you say it." +</P> + +<P> +Fabius shook his head slowly. +</P> + +<P> +"Aesculapius has not been unhonoured by me," he said, "and he has told +me that you will be but a burden for many days. For this reason go to +Rome, and for two others that you shall not tell of: one, for +punishment because you could not obey, and one, because the time will +come soon when Rome shall need even the men who can only fight." +</P> + +<P> +Sergius saw the hopelessness of struggling against his softened fate, +bitter though it was. Open disgrace, indeed, had been turned aside; +but, on the other hand, he was doomed to inaction during times when all +Rome longed only to strike, and he could not but feel that he had +fallen far in the estimation of his general. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0109"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IX. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +HOME. +</H3> + + +<P> +The Appian Way was still safe, even from the chance of Numidian foray, +and it was along its lava-paved level that the long convoy of sick and +wounded writhed slowly northward that afternoon. +</P> + +<P> +Half reclining in the rude chariot, each jolt of which brought agony to +his injured shoulder, Sergius watched, with far deeper pain than that +of body, the last troop of allied horse winding up the pass toward +Allifae: the rear-guard of Rome's line of march. Then he fell to +brooding upon his fate, while the night followed the day and the day +the night, and still the dreary, groaning caravan dragged on, resting +only during the heated hours. +</P> + +<P> +On, over the Liris at Minturnae, upward, over the mountains behind +Tarracina and descending again into the Pontine plain; through the +shady groves of Arician ilex that crown the Alban Hills, down to +Bovillae, and then away across the Campagna to Rome—a marvel of deep +cuttings through the hills,—a marvel of giant superstructures over +valleys,—the Appian, the Queen of Ways. +</P> + +<P> +There were long, green ridges now, swelling from the plain and breaking +away into little rocky cliffs tufted with wild fig trees: sluggish +streams wound down from the east where, far away, loomed the +snow-tipped summits of Apennine, while toward the west the sky +reflected a brighter light from the sea that glittered beneath it. +</P> + +<P> +At last the eyes of the vanguard of weary wayfarers could descry, +through the morning mists, the crowned cluster of hills that was to be +a crown to all the world. Nearer they came and yet nearer, through the +vineyards and cornfields of the Campagna—the southern Campagna teeming +with its herds of mouse-coloured cattle, whose great, stupid eyes were +only less stupidly beautiful than those of the rustics that watched +over their grazings. +</P> + +<P> +And now wounds and sickness were, for the moment, forgotten, as man +pointed out to man this and that landmark of home: temples on this hill +and on that; Diana on the Aventine, the hill of the people; Jupiter +Stator on the Palatine; the grim mass of the citadel above the rock of +Tarpeia; the great quadriga that surmounted the greatest fane of +all—the house of Capitoline Jove. To the right of these were the +clustered oaks of the Caelian Mount, while, farthest away, but highest +of all, the white banner fluttering from the heights of Janiculum told +them that the city was still safe, still unassailed. They were passing +where the road was bordered by its houses of the dead; tombs of the +great families, above which the funereal cypresses bent their heads and +shed peace and shade alike over the dead and the living. The hum of +the city came to their ears, and, as the convoy drew nearer to the +Capenian Gate, the throng, pouring out to meet them, grew thicker and +more dense, blocking the way until the cavalry of the escort cleared it +with their spear-butts. Then the press divided, running along on both +sides of the carriages, in two fast-filling streams whose murmurs +swelled into a very torrent's roar of questions and prayers for news of +the general and the army. +</P> + +<P> +"Was Hannibal beaten? Had he been slain, or was he waiting in chains +to grace the Fabian triumph? Was it true that he measured twice the +height of common men, and that a single eye blazed cyclops-like in the +middle of his forehead? How many elephants would be seen in the +triumph?" +</P> + +<P> +Such and a hundred queries, equally wild, assailed the escort and the +occupants of the wagons; for this was the rabble: poor citizens, +freedmen, slaves, for whom no story of Hannibal and Carthage was too +improbable. Nevertheless Sergius imagined he could discern a spirit of +irony underlying much that he heard. +</P> + +<P> +When they had reached the low eminence that, crowned by the Temple of +Mars, faced the city gate, he bade the attendants help him descend from +the army carriage, that he might wait the coming of his slaves with a +litter. A messenger was soon found, and hurried off, charged with +necessary directions. +</P> + +<P> +The crowd had rolled on through the gate, together with the convoy, and +the sick man was left alone save for the attendants of the temple in +whose care he had placed himself. Day by day, as he had jolted along +his journey, he had felt the fever coming on—fever born of his injury +and the terrible strain to which he had been subjected: now it was only +necessary to reach his home and rest. Last of his race but for two +older sisters who had married several years since, the spacious mansion +of the family of Fidenas was his alone, with its slaves and its +ancestral masks and its cool courts and its outlook over the seething +Forum up to the opposite heights of the Capitol. There he would find +care and comfort for the body if not for the soul. +</P> + +<P> +And now the patter of running feet sounded from the pavement below. +They were come, at last, with the litter, and Sergius, entering it, was +borne swiftly through the gate, on, between the tall houses that backed +up against the hills, turning soon to the left into the New Way; on, +past the altar of Hercules in the cattle market, past the Temple of +Vesta, along the Comitia, and into the Sacred Way by the front of the +Curia. Thence they swung westward to the Roman Gate, the gate in the +ancient Wall of the City of Romulus that fenced the Palatine alone,—a +stately entrance, now, to the residence portion of the city most +favoured by the great families. Near by stood the house that marked +the ending of the journey, bustling with its slaves and bright with a +hundred lamps; while the physician, an old freedman of the tribune's +father, stood upon the threshold to greet and care for his late +master's son. +</P> + +<P> +Gravely shaking his head at the discouraging aspect of the invalid and +muttering to himself in Greek, for he was born in Rhodes, he led the +way back to the great hall between the peristyle and the garden. +</P> + +<P> +"Here, master," he said, "I have caused your couch to be laid, at the +moment I learned of your arrival and condition. You observe, the air +and light will be better than in your apartment, and the space better +calculated for those whose duty it shall be to minister to you, until +the divine Aesculapius and Apollo's self unite to grant success to my +efforts." +</P> + +<P> +"It is well, Agathocles," said Sergius, wearily, "and I thank you." +</P> + +<P> +His voice seemed to die away with the last words, and a sort of stupor +fell over him. Agathocles watched him closely, as he lay upon the +couch, noted the heavy breathing, and drew his brows together with a +deep frown. Behind him a group of the household slaves whispered +together and cast frightened glances, now at their master, now at the +disciple of the healing art; for Sergius had been brought up among +them, and the terms of their service were neither heavy nor harsh. +Then the surgeon set to work examining the shoulder, nodding his head +to observe that the bone had been replaced in its socket, but waxing +troubled again over the inflammation and swelling that told the story +of torn tendons and blood-vessels too long neglected, and of the +hardships of the journey. Slaves were sent scurrying, in this +direction and that, to compound lotions and spread poultices, while +Agathocles himself proceeded to the ostentatious mixing of some cooling +draught calculated to ward off, if possible, the fever that was already +claiming its sway. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0110"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +X. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CONVALESCENCE. +</H3> + + +<P> +The many weeks of hovering between life and death that followed these +days were a dense blank to Sergius. First, there was his injury, more +serious than he had imagined, and the fever that had followed it, +complicated again by the malaria of the marshes through which he had +journeyed in so vulnerable a plight. Then came other weeks of such +lassitude that he had neither power nor desire to learn of the world to +which he felt himself slowly returning, as did Aeneas from the realms +of Pluto. There were times when he had been vaguely conscious of +whisperings around his couch upon subjects that should have interested +him and did not. Was it his fault? or had everything become +commonplace and of no account? +</P> + +<P> +At last there came a time of convalescence. His haggard face +frightened him when he looked at it in the bronze mirror; but the air +of the winter was fresh and keen, bringing health and life to the mind, +if not entirely to the body. So, lying one day in the entrance hall +and gazing out over the Forum below, he turned to Agathocles, who sat +close by. +</P> + +<P> +"And now you shall tell me," he began, "of the things that have +happened while I have lain here, helpless as a bag of corn in the +granary, and of even less importance." +</P> + +<P> +"You mistake, my master," replied the physician, quickly. "Surely you +must know that your condition has been a matter of deep anxiety to +many, both within and without your walls." +</P> + +<P> +"Within, perhaps, yes," said Sergius, slowly. "I treat them well, and +such of them as do not get freedom by my will would doubtless find +harder masters in Sabinus and Camerinus. My sisters' husbands are +patricians of the old school. As for without,—am I not a man useless +in times of action?—well-nigh disgraced?—" +</P> + +<P> +Agathocles hastened to interrupt:— +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! my master, you do not know. Could you but see the crowd of +clients who have gathered at your door each morning, waiting for it to +creak upon the pivots, and, later in the day, such of your friends as +were not away with the army—ay," he continued, with a sharp glance at +the invalid, "and a pretty female slave who has come at each nightfall +and has questioned the doorkeeper." +</P> + +<P> +The strong desire to hear of two things had come into Sergius' mind +while the physician was speaking. He must learn about this female +slave who had inquired so assiduously, and he must hear of the army, +the war, the Republic; for these last three were really but one. After +something of an effort, and not without a certain sentiment of +self-approval, he said:— +</P> + +<P> +"Let me hear of friends later, my Agathocles. Tell me now of the war." +</P> + +<P> +There was a troubled expression in the physician's eyes, but he +answered volubly:— +</P> + +<P> +"It progresses famously, in Spain, my master. Oh!—ay—famously. +Their fleet has been swept from the seas, and Scipio slays and drives +them as he wills. Doubtless by now they are all back in Africa—" +</P> + +<P> +"Not of Spain," interrupted Sergius, as the narrator caught his breath. +"Tell me of Italy, of Hannibal and Fabius. Have the standards opposed +each other?" +</P> + +<P> +"They say Hannibal is in winter quarters at Geronium, and the consuls +watch him," began Agathocles, in more subdued tones. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me of Fabius. Tell me of what has happened—all, do you hear?" +cried Sergius, raising himself impatiently on one elbow. "If your +story seems to lack coherence and truth, I swear to you that I will go +down into the Forum at once and learn what I wish." +</P> + +<P> +Thus adjured, the physician answered, but with evident reluctance:— +</P> + +<P> +"Truly, my master, all things have not been as we might wish, and yet +they could easily have run worse. When your dictator let the invaders +out of Campania, there was much complaint among the people that he was +protracting the war for his own advantage; but when he came to Rome for +the sacrifices and left Minucius in command, with orders not to engage, +and when the master-of-the-horse, as some say, evading the orders, +fought and gained an advantage, then, you may believe me, the city was +in a turmoil; nor were there wanting friends of Minucius and emissaries +from his camp to sound his praises as a general and decry the dictator +and his policy, not to say his courage and his honesty." +</P> + +<P> +"I warrant," said Sergius, gloomily, "that every pot-house politician +from the Etruscan Street was declaiming on how much better <I>he</I> could +command than could Quintus Fabius." +</P> + +<P> +"Until at last," went on Agathocles, "Marcus Metilius—" +</P> + +<P> +"The tribune?—a corrupt knave!" broke in Sergius. +</P> + +<P> +"Surely; yes. Well, this Marcus Metilius made a speech—" +</P> + +<P> +"Full of rank demagoguery, I warrant." +</P> + +<P> +"Surely, and saying that it was intolerable for Minucius, who was the +only man who could fight, to be put under guard lest he beat the enemy; +intolerable that the territory of the allies should have been given up +to ravage, while the dictator protected his own farm with the legions +of the Republic; and, finally, proposing, as a most moderate measure, +that Minucius, the victor, should be given equal command over the army +with Fabius the laggard." +</P> + +<P> +"Unprecedented impudence!" murmured Sergius, "and what said the +dictator?" +</P> + +<P> +"He did not trouble to go near the Comitia, and even in the Senate they +did not like to hear his praises of Hannibal and his troops, or listen +favourably when he spoke doubtfully concerning the magnitude of +Minucius' victory and claimed that, even were it all true, the +master-of-the-horse should be called to account for his +insubordination. So, after he had lauded prudence and supported his +own policy, and after Marcus Atilius Regulus was elected consul, the +dictator departed for the army, in the night, and left them to do as +they pleased." +</P> + +<P> +"They passed the law?" asked Sergius, bitterly. +</P> + +<P> +"It hung in doubt for some time," went on Agathocles; "for, though many +favoured, few were disposed to advance such a measure, until Caius +Terentius Varro, who was praetor last year—" +</P> + +<P> +"The butcher's son," commented Sergius. "You know, my Agathocles, how +demagogues and tyrants crushed out the life of your Hellas. We have +yet to see the same ruin fall upon Rome, and from the same cause: +first, an ungovernable rabble, stirred up by the ignorant and vicious, +and then a king, and then a foreign conqueror. Flaminius lost one +army, Minucius will doubtless lose another, while Metilius and Varro +are well able to lose whatever may remain. Pah! Why did you not let +me finish my journey to Acheron? This is no city for men whose fathers +were able to teach them about war and honour. He whose tongue is most +ready to lie about the noble and the rich is counted on to wield the +sword best against an enemy. Well,—speak on; and what happened next?" +</P> + +<P> +"As you say," continued the physician, "the measure was passed; but +when Minucius desired that he and the dictator should command on +alternate days, Fabius would only consent to a division of the army." +</P> + +<P> +"Gods!" exclaimed Sergius. "Two legions apiece! That must have been +rare sport for Hannibal." +</P> + +<P> +"Truly, yes; but it resulted well, for, to shorten the tale, the +Carthaginian trapped Minucius through his rashness, and was about to +cut him to pieces, when the dictator, who had foreseen all this, came +up and saved what was left; whereupon the master-of-the-horse marched +to the general's camp, and, saluting him as 'father' and 'saviour,' +surrendered his equal command, after having directed his soldiers, +also, to greet the others as patrons—" +</P> + +<P> +"That, at least, was well done," said Sergius, nodding; "worthy of a +man better born than Minucius. I do him honour for learning from +experience. Metilius or Varro could not have done it." +</P> + +<P> +"And, now," continued Agathocles, "both the dictator and the +master-of-the-horse have given up their commands, the time of their +appointments expiring, and the army is in winter quarters under the +consuls." +</P> + +<P> +"Servilius and Atilius?" +</P> + +<P> +"Truly." +</P> + +<P> +"And the elections?" +</P> + +<P> +"Are falling due." +</P> + +<P> +"Who sue for the consulship?" +</P> + +<P> +Agathocles hesitated and placed his fingers upon the patient's pulse. +</P> + +<P> +"I have told you enough for the day—" +</P> + +<P> +"Who are candidates?" reiterated Sergius, leaning forward impatiently. +</P> + +<P> +"They say that Varro—" began Agathocles. +</P> + +<P> +But the tribune had sprung to his feet. Then, as he swayed a moment +from weakness, leaning back against the couch, he raised both hands and +cried out:— +</P> + +<P> +"Have they gone mad? The butcher's son!—the bearer of his father's +wares, to command against Hannibal! Do you think the Carthaginian a +bullock to stand still and stupid, while this soldier of the shambles +swings the axe? Gods! They will learn their error—only <I>we</I> must pay +the price, together with the rabble that owe it. Gods! Was not the +lesson of Flaminius enough for these drinkers of vinegar-water? This +will be great news for them on the Megalia." +</P> + +<P> +Then, seeming to gain strength from his excitement, he strode up and +down the atrium, while the physician watched him anxiously but without +venturing to interfere. +</P> + +<P> +It was the doorkeeper's attendant that broke in upon the scene, pausing +a moment in doubt, as his eyes followed his master's rapid strides. +Finally, approaching Agathocles, he plucked him by the sleeve and +whispered:— +</P> + +<P> +"The woman desires to know of the health of my lord." +</P> + +<P> +Before the physician could answer, Sergius had caught the words, and, +wheeling about, faced the boy. +</P> + +<P> +"What woman and where?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"The gray stole; the slave woman who inquires for you. She waits her +answer at the door," said the boy, his tongue loosened by the question. +</P> + +<P> +"Let her come to me," commanded Sergius, and he threw himself down upon +the deeply cushioned seat of a marble chair. Agathocles stood at his +elbow, with an expression of anxiety on his face, and, in a moment +more, the girl entered. +</P> + +<P> +Muffled almost to the eyes, she glided forward, and the voice that +addressed him was soft and musical. +</P> + +<P> +"May the gods favour you, my lord! even as they have favoured me in +permitting a sight of your improved health." +</P> + +<P> +"You have been here often," began Sergius, "and I wished to see you and +bid you bear my thanks to her who sent you." +</P> + +<P> +Slowly the stole dropped from the eyes—very pretty eyes, that, joined +with an equally pretty mouth, took on an expression of hurt +astonishment. +</P> + +<P> +"That <I>sent</I> me?" she murmured, half sadly. "Ah, well; doubtless it is +a matter of insolence for a poor slave girl to wish and ask concerning +the health of the noble Sergius." +</P> + +<P> +The tribune watched her closely and with mingled feelings. He had +settled in his mind, from the moment of Agathocles' mention of the +fact, that the slave woman who called must be sent by Marcia, and it +was not without a pang of very poignant regret that he relinquished the +idea. That he could not place this girl—one of a class so far beneath +the notice of a Roman of rank—was not strange, and yet the face seemed +vaguely familiar to him, and—it was certainly little short of +beautiful. A man flouted, or, still worse, ignored by a mistress at +whose shrine he has worshipped, might well be pardoned a feeling of +satisfaction that his well-being was a matter of interest to at least +one pretty woman. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile the girl stood before him, her arms hanging by her sides, her +eyes modestly cast down, and her whole attitude indicative of detected +audacity and submissive despair. Agathocles had transferred his +attention from his patient to the visitor, and his scrutiny seemed to +trouble her. +</P> + +<P> +"So it was yourself alone who desired to learn of my welfare," said +Sergius, with a faint smile. "Believe me, my girl, no Roman is too +noble to value the interest of beauty like yours." +</P> + +<P> +There was just the suspicion of a laugh in the downcast eyes, but it +sped away as swiftly as it came, and she made haste to answer:— +</P> + +<P> +"Truly, my lord does not measure his own worth. There are many, as +much above me in beauty as they are in rank; many who cannot venture to +show the concern they doubtless feel. What has a poor slave girl to do +with maidenly modesty—the plaything of any master who chooses to smile +upon her for a moment?" +</P> + +<P> +She spoke bitterly, and Sergius, half frowning, half smiling, reached +out his hand. The contrast between this girl's frankly spoken interest +and the courted Marcia's trivial indifference came to him more +powerfully. What a fool a man was to waste himself on some haughty +mistress who exacted all things and gave nothing! She had taken the +hand he held out, and now, suddenly, he drew her to him, and kissed her. +</P> + +<P> +Then he found new occasion to marvel over the strange ways of women. +As if awakened from a dream or a part in a comedy, to some instant and +frightful peril, she wrenched herself from him and, wrapping her cloak +around her face, turned and ran like a deer through the hallway and out +into the street. +</P> + +<P> +Sergius was dazed for a moment by the suddenness of it all; then he +rose. +</P> + +<P> +"Quick, Smyrnus!" he called to the boy who attended on the porter. +"Follow, and bring me word where she goes." +</P> + +<P> +The delay had been short, and Smyrnus was swift of foot, but when he +reached the street it was empty as far as he could see, and a dash to +each corner of the house gave no better results. Inquiries, likewise, +were unavailing, and he returned slowly and with shoulders that already +seemed to tingle under the expected rods. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile, Agathocles had essayed to exert his authority over the +invalid, and was protesting volubly against the latter's imprudence. +Sergius was in excellent humour, despite the escape of his conquest. +</P> + +<P> +"Nonsense, my Agathocles," he began, half guiltily at first, but +gaining confidence as he pursued his justification. "Do you not see, +all this has done me more good than a score of days spent in dull +reclining, with only nauseous draughts to mark the hours by? I have +learned that I am a man again, with an interest in the Republic and +myself. Surely such knowledge is worth a little risk. To-morrow, mark +you, if the gods favour me, I shall descend into the Forum and see if +nothing is to be effected against this rabble in the matter of the +elections. Had she not magnificent eyes, my Agathocles? not those of +the dull ox, as your Homer puts it, but rather of the startled fawn?" +</P> + +<P> +"They seemed to me more of the fox," said the physician, dryly, "being +golden in colour and very cunning. I doubt you fathomed her smile, +though wherefore she should seek—" +</P> + +<P> +"Sacrilege! Agathocles," cried Sergius, gayly; "but here comes Smyrnus. +Well, boy, where is the lair of this fox of our good Agathocles?" +</P> + +<P> +The terrified boy had thrown himself upon his face. +</P> + +<P> +"I hastened with all speed, master," he protested. "At your word I +flew, but she was gone, as if a god had snatched her up, nor was there +a passer-by who had seen aught—" +</P> + +<P> +Sergius was frowning ominously; then his face cleared. +</P> + +<P> +"Doubtless that was it, Smyrnus," he said. "Your judicious piety is +quicker than your heels in saving your back. If a god took her, he +showed excellent taste, and it would be utter sacrilege to punish you +for failing to learn her whereabouts. Come, Agathocles, be not so +gloomy. Do you think it is Aesculapius who has come to your aid? He, +at least, is no spruce, young rival. Be conciliatory, or I may, +perhaps, venture to try my fortune even against—" +</P> + +<P> +"I am rather of the opinion that some cunning Hermes has tricked Eros +and Aesculapius and my Lord Lucius as well," said the physician. An +expression of grim humour lurked in his face, and Sergius felt +strangely uncomfortable. +</P> + +<P> +"What is a physician if he talk not in the language of oracles," he +said, querulously. "Well, you may send me to my couch now, if you +will; but, mark you, to-morrow I go to the Forum." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0111"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XI. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +POLITICS. +</H3> + + +<P> +On the following day, Sergius, true to his purpose, ordered his litter +to be brought, and, reclining as his weakness compelled, was borne down +into the Forum crowded with its mass of turbulent and perspiring +humanity. Nor was the temper of the rabble doubtful. On every side he +heard arraignments of Fabius, and, through him, of all men guilty of +good birth or riches. Under every portico, speakers were pouring forth +harangues whose ignorance was only matched by their coarseness and +surpassed by their reckless malevolence. Once he bade his bearers set +him down, near where one Quintus Baebius Herennius, a plebeian tribune +and a relative of Varro's, was holding forth to a sympathetic crowd. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you not know, ye foolish Romans," cried the orator, alternately +slapping his thigh, waving his arms, and casting up his eyes, "that +this Hannibal was brought into Italy by these very nobles, who are +always desiring war? Can you not see how they are protracting the war, +when you consider that one man of the people, our own Minucius, when he +commanded the four legions, was sufficient for the enemy? Behold how +this traitorous, this <I>noble</I> Fabian schemed to expose the brave +Minucius and two legions of the people to destruction, and only rescued +the remnant that he might pose as their saviour and be saluted 'father' +and 'patron.' There, indeed, was our Minucius at fault, as what +honest, poor man is not, when confronted by the wiles of those bred to +craft and trickery! See, too, how the consuls have followed the same +dilatory measures, and can you doubt that it is all by agreement with +these traitor nobles? Know well, now, that this war will have no +ending until a man of the people ends it—a real plebeian; a new man. +See you not that both consuls, by tarrying with the army, have set up +an interregnum, that the wicked nobles may the better influence your +choice? But if you be true Romans, such as were those who camped upon +the Sacred Hill, you will remember that one consulship, at least, is +yours by law, and you will elect a man to fill it who is one of +yourselves and who will spurn the rich, as they now seek to spurn you +and me and all good men." +</P> + +<P> +Sergius had listened to this harangue, and to the applause which +greeted it, with mingled feelings of indignation and sorrow—sentiments +to which was added surprise when he noted through the closed curtains +of his litter that several patricians passed by and smiled and nodded +to the speaker while he poured forth his diatribes. Now, however, a +new commotion seemed to agitate the throng, who, turning suddenly, ran +pell-mell in one direction, almost overturning the litter—a +catastrophe from which it was only saved by a vigorous use of the +bearers' staves upon the heads of the nearest. +</P> + +<P> +Sergius thrust aside the curtains and half raised himself to see the +cause of the disturbance. The brightly fullered gown of a candidate +flashed before his eyes, and then he recognized Varro standing upon a +silversmith's counter, smiling this way and that, grasping the hands of +those nearest, kissing his own to the very outskirts of the mob, and +all the while crying out, to the promptings of his nomenclator: +"Greeting to you, Marcus!" "Health, Quintus!" "Commend me to your +brother, my Caius—yes, to be sure—when he shall return from the army. +Ah! friends, when I am consul, there will be a hasty returning from +such foolish wars. You shall see the African fork-bearers winding +through the Forum." +</P> + +<P> +"And that is the first word of truth I have heard from you, Varro, or +from your Herennius here," cried Sergius, who had risen and now stood, +pale and gaunt, beside his litter. "With you and such as you to +command, we may well look to see the African fork-bearers winding +through the Forum—yes, and pillaging amid its ruins." +</P> + +<P> +A roar of vituperation drowned whatever answer the candidate might have +made, as, with brandished clubs, cleavers, knives, styli—any weapon +that could be snatched up from the booths—the nearest score of the +crowd made a dash at the presumptuous noble. +</P> + +<P> +The litter-bearers were sturdy fellows, and their staves were stout, +but the contest was far too unequal. One had gone down with a deep +gash in the shoulder, and the others were quickly forced back upon +their master. +</P> + +<P> +Sergius stood with his back to one of the square pillars of peperino, +with folded arms and pale face upon which hovered a smile of ineffable +scorn. He recognized his peril: the fate that had befallen many noble +Romans in the election riots of the Republic; but his sentiment was +rather one of indifference than of perturbation, and he was about to +order his slaves to give up their hopeless defence, in order that the +crowd might let them, at least, go without further hurt, when an +entirely unexpected diversion brought him relief and safety. +</P> + +<P> +Varro had viewed the attack upon his critic with a pleasure that he +scarcely tried to conceal. He kept begging his adherents to be +moderate and abstain from violence, but in so low a voice that his +counsels could not be heard except by those immediately around him, and +were entirely inaudible to the howling assailants to whom they were +presumably addressed. Another voice, however, a shrill, female voice, +came suddenly to Sergius' ears:— +</P> + +<P> +"Would that my brother could come to life and command another fleet, +that the streets might be less crowded!" +</P> + +<P> +Sergius recognized, in a rich litter that was tossed hither and thither +by the billows of the mob, the face of the sister of that Publius +Claudius who had lost for Rome the naval battle off Drepanum. The mob, +too, recognized her, and the scornful speech bit deeply. All around +arose a cry of— +</P> + +<P> +"To the aediles with her! To the aediles! She has rejoiced in the +death of our brothers! May the gods curse the noble!" and, in a +moment, Sergius found himself alone but for his bruised and bleeding +servants, while the tide of riot swept up the Forum, bearing the litter +upon its tossing crests, and the virago within continued to scream out +her defiance and contempt. +</P> + +<P> +Varro remained, surrounded by a few friends, and, as Sergius +approached, he drew himself up, as if to reënforce his courage with a +sense of his importance. The tribune was about to pass him without a +word; but the demagogue, emboldened by this seeming unwillingness for +an encounter, placed himself in his path. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you hear the kindly wishes that the great express for the health +of their poorer countrymen?" he began, tauntingly. +</P> + +<P> +"It is like your kind, Varro," replied Sergius, speaking slowly and in +tones of profound contempt, "to attribute to our party any intemperance +of a single opponent; but do you also credit us with the virtues of +individuals? I might with better grace attribute the murderous attack +just made—and with your connivance—upon myself, to the party of the +people. That I do not do so, you may lay to a moderation and +magnanimity that are not learned in the tradesman's booth or the +butcher's shambles." +</P> + +<P> +Varro flushed crimson, and he looked from side to side, as if to call +upon his friends for new violence; but a company of young patricians +were descending from the Comitia, and his fellows were dull of +comprehension. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you beware, though, Varro," continued Sergius, "lest, in striving +to attain power and place on the wings of calumny against those better +than yourself, or by the suggestion of false grievances to those who +are ignorant and weak, you may, by these things, incite one riot too +many. Beware, above all things, lest you win." +</P> + +<P> +Then, drawing his toga close, as if to avoid a contaminating touch, he +strode by to join the approaching band of young men, leaving his +opponent vicious to snarl, but powerless to bite. +</P> + +<P> +After the usual greetings and inquiries concerning his health, they +walked on together toward the Curtian Pool, and Sergius' thoughts took +on a deeper colour from the despondent speech of his friends. That +Varro would receive the votes of the centuries, beyond all doubt, was +unanimously conceded; and so great was the dissatisfaction with Fabius, +that their regret seemed only for the manner of the popular victory and +the man who was to gain it. A few hot-heads dropped hints to the +effect that it might become necessary to reorganize the patrician clubs +and meet violence with violence, in which event there could be but +little doubt as to the result; but the sentiment of the majority was +adverse to such measures, and they viewed the possibilities with an +indifference that to Sergius seemed even more ominous than the frenzy +of the rabble and the worthlessness of its leaders. His attempts to +defend the Fabian policy, speaking as one of its victims, were +hopelessly thrown away. All Rome was mad for battle, even at the cost +of sending the butcher's son to command the legions; and, two days +later, the result of low chicanery and indifferent lethargy took shape. +</P> + +<P> +The trumpet had summoned the army of the city to the Field of Mars, and +century after century had entered the enclosure to cast its vote for +Varro—for Varro alone, until no one of the noble candidates, who +received the half-hearted support of their fellows, got even enough +pebbles to be proclaimed elected to the second consulship. To Varro +alone, cringing and insolent, was the oath administered; for Varro +alone was the prayer put up; for Varro was the declaration twice made, +according to the laws of the Republic, and into Varro's hands was +placed the presidency over the assembly that was to elect his colleague. +</P> + +<P> +Then followed an exhibition of plebeian cunning. There were among the +supporters of the consul those who realized what he himself could not: +his military incompetence and the terrible necessity that, at such a +juncture, there should be at least one soldier-consul. Varro had won +on his merits as self-announced, on the strength of his own arraignment +of his adversaries' shortcomings. He stood forth the incarnation of +party and class hatred; and now the victors, half dazed by the very +completeness of their triumph, paused in mid career to look for a +soldier with whom the army might be entrusted. That he must be a +noble, was self-evident. Even the rabble, now that its first outburst +had passed, was not so mad as to attribute military skill to any of its +wordy leaders. The butcher's colleague must be a patrician, but he +must be such a patrician as would cast reproach upon his class, while +he supplied the one quality requisite to the plebeian situation. To +whose political acumen first occurred the name of Lucius Aemilius +Paullus, no one seemed to know; but, once suggested, there was none to +deny its entire appropriateness. Paullus was a veteran of several +wars, an experienced commander, a brave soldier; and there his merits +ended. He had been brought to trial for misappropriation of the +plunder taken in the Illyrian campaign, and, as many thought, acquitted +by means as scandalous as the crime itself, while his less influential +colleague suffered for both. Harsh and rude, no high-born Roman was +less popular; and his exaggeration of class insolence bade fair to +offer him as an illustration, ready to the tongue of every demagogue, +of what the people must always expect from patrician rule. +</P> + +<P> +So, one by one, the five noble opponents of Varro were rejected, and +the word went out that, of their enemies, the people would have Paullus +and him alone. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0112"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XII. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BRAWLINGS. +</H3> + + +<P> +More sick at heart, as he grew stronger in body, Sergius returned from +the final voting in the Field of Mars. For some reason the popular +party, sated with triumph, had permitted the election, as praetors, of +good men who had experience in military affairs; perhaps that these +might, together with Paullus, make surer the victory that was to +redound to the honour of the darling of the mob and proclaim to all the +Roman world the superiority of the butcher, Varro, over Fabius, the +well-fathered. +</P> + +<P> +As Sergius was borne along toward the Palatine district, he found the +streets crowded with a populace he had hardly known to exist in the +city. Down from the lofty tenements of the Aicus, up from the slums of +the Suburra, the Gate of the Three Folds, and the Etruscan Street they +poured, drunk with joy and with hatred of all men who wore white togas +and had money to lend or lands to till. At each corner a denser throng +was gathered around jugglers, tumblers, wrestlers that writhed over the +road-way, actors who danced Etruscan pantomimes and carried their +make-up in little bags slung around their necks, singers of medleys, +and would-be popular poets who spouted coarse epigrams and ribald +satires levelled at the thieving, the effeminate, the adulterous +patricians who thought to rule Rome and had named an Aemilius Paullus +to stand beside and check the generous, the fearless, the incorruptible +Varro. Threatening looks and words were cast at Sergius and the +company of freedmen and clients that surrounded him, until he was not +ill-pleased to see the escort of another noble issue from a side street +and beat its way to where the exhausted bearers had set down the +tribune's litter, pausing to gain breath before attempting to push on +farther. When, however, he recognized in the sturdy old man who strode +along in the midst of the new company, no more distant acquaintance +than the father of Marcia, he was conscious of a strong revulsion. +Better the continued buffeting with an obstreperous mob than the +embarrassments he foresaw in such a rencontre; but it was too late to +avoid it: the interests and perils of the two parties were too nearly +identical, and he heard the gruff voice of his old friend crying out:— +</P> + +<P> +"Back, exercisers of the whip! Back, colonizers of chains! To the +cross with you all! Is this Animula or Rome, where rude clowns do not +recognize their betters?" Then, for the first time, perceiving +Sergius: "Greeting to you, my Lucius! May the gods favour you better +than they have the Republic this day." +</P> + +<P> +At that moment, a big, hulking fellow thrust himself forward in the +path of the advancing patrician and hiccoughed out:— +</P> + +<P> +"May you meet with a plague, master! Truly there are to be no betters +or worsers in Rome—now that the noble Varro is consul and—" +</P> + +<P> +The staff of Torquatus felled him to the ground, where he lay +shuddering and drawing up his legs, while a yell of rage and menace +broke from the crowd. Scarcely changing a line in his grim face, the +old man calmly trussed the folds of his toga about his left arm, freed +his right more fully, and drew a stylus of such size as to suggest a +dagger much more than an instrument for writing: such a weapon as was +born of the election brawls of earlier days, innocent under the law, +yet equally efficient as pen or sword. +</P> + +<P> +Daunted at his aspect, the foremost assailants held back. +</P> + +<P> +"Are there not more vinegar drinkers that wish to learn from an old +Roman the manners of old Rome?" asked Torquatus, sneeringly. +</P> + +<P> +How the fight, once begun, would have ended seemed hardly uncertain, +for the crowd filled all the neighbouring streets: half were drunk, and +nearly half were provided with arms of some sort, many of them such as +were warranted by no pretext of law, save the knowledge that Varro was +consul, and the belief that he would protect his adherents in whatever +breach might please them. The dangerous front of Torquatus and his +company might have sufficed to check those who would have to lead a +rush, but they, unfortunately, had the least to say on the subject of +giving battle. Already the mobs, pouring in from the side streets at +the first scent of a brawl, were pushing the forlorn hope, all +unwilling, to its fate; three or four had already gone down with broken +heads, and a freedman of Torquatus had been stabbed in the side, when, +above the tumult, rose a voice crying:— +</P> + +<P> +"Make way for the Consul, Paullus! Way! way!" +</P> + +<P> +The matter, truly, was becoming serious, thought the outskirts of the +mob—all of them who could hear the shout. A brush with the fiercest, +the most hated, the most hating aristocrat that had been borne behind +the fasces for many a year, would mean punishment with a heavy hand. +The pressure was at once relieved, and though those in front saw no +sign of consul or lictor—saw only Sergius who had descended from his +litter and was leading his company in a vigorous attack—yet they were, +for the most part, only too glad to escape from the glaring eyes of +Titus Manlius and the broad sweep of his weapon. The old man was +puffing hard from the unwonted exertion when Sergius reached his side +through the fast-scattering assailants. +</P> + +<P> +"The gods have punished my blasphemy with kindness," began Torquatus, +"in sending my Lord Paullus in such timely fashion." +</P> + +<P> +"Say, rather, my father, in sending his name into the mind of one +Lucius Sergius," said Sergius, laughing. +</P> + +<P> +For a moment the other frowned with a puzzled look; then his face +cleared, with as close an approach to a smile as it could wear. +</P> + +<P> +"And our rescue is not due to the consul, then?" he asked, still slow +to fully grasp the ruse. +</P> + +<P> +"To the consul's name and to the favouring cunning of Mercury," said +Sergius, bowing. +</P> + +<P> +"Truly, you should command," exclaimed Torquatus. "A general so ready +in craft as you are might hope to match the African—and, by the gods! +no one else seems able to. Come, let us go on to my house." +</P> + +<P> +Though harshly said, and in tones that one less acquainted with the +speaker might well have mistaken for sarcasm, Sergius knew that the +compliment was genuine. The aged patrician had turned and strode away, +as he finished speaking, and etiquette left to the younger man no +choice but to pay to the elder the reverence of his escort. That he +had asked what he might well have looked for as a matter of course, was +something of a condescension, according to the strict ceremoniousness +of the ancient usage; therefore Sergius hurried on and overtook him, +offering his litter, at which the other sniffed contemptuously. +</P> + +<P> +"May the gods grant me to lie at rest by the Appian Way, before I +require such feet!" Then, as his sharp eyes noted the flush upon +Sergius' face, he added: "Fever, wounds, and death may pardon +effeminacy; and, truly, I would beg you to accompany me as you came, +were it not that a climb up the Palatine should bring new health to one +who could run ten miles with a broken shoulder. Believe me, my friend, +the dictator thought better of you than he spoke, and would have +regretted the axe. Jupiter grant that it be yours to justify his +opinion!" +</P> + +<P> +No stimulant could have given such strength to the convalescent as did +these words, and from such a source. The dictator had not condemned, +then; he had even spoken well of him. The knowledge of it put to +flight the embarrassment he had felt when he realized that he was going +perforce to Marcia's house—perhaps into her presence; and he found +himself standing straighter and stepping out with longer and bolder +strides. +</P> + +<P> +"Good words are better than bad ones for a good man," mused Torquatus, +wagging his head sententiously, and darting at his companion a +comprehensive glance, behind which lurked a grim smile. "If women +could ever learn as much, they might govern us the more readily—which +the gods forefend! as I doubt not they will." +</P> + +<P> +Then the company halted. It was many months since Sergius had stood +before that door, and he could not, without grave discourtesy, refuse +the invitation to enter. Well, what mattered it? Marcia cared +nothing; why should he? Then, too, the stimulus of the dictator's +approval was still upon him, as the warning cry of the porter bade +those nearest stand back while the door swung out. Most of the party +took their leave here, but several followed into the atrium for adieus +more appropriate to their station. +</P> + +<P> +At last all had departed save Sergius, who, having given orders that +his attendants should await him in the street, passed on into the +peristyle with his host. +</P> + +<P> +There, beside the fountain, spinning, as he had so often seen her—as +he had seen her through all the days and nights of the campaign—sat +the lady Marcia. Two of her maidens were assisting: one who glanced up +at Sergius and smiled tauntingly; and another who turned her face away, +and seemed to be trying to hide it in the close inspection of a great +bunch of fleece. But both the forwardness of the one and the +bashfulness of the other were wasted upon the visitor. As a matter of +fact, he was so lost in wonder at his courage and self-control as to be +well past observing the idiosyncrasies of slaves; and, if his own +attitude was acceptable, even to himself, his admiration for that of +his hostess amounted to absolute bitterness. That she, a mere girl, +should rise and come forward with so conventional yet friendly a +greeting, that neither her lip should tremble nor her cheek flush, was +little short of intolerable. Nevertheless it helped to brace his own +resolves yet more firmly. Such poise, after all that had been between +them, could have its source only in the most absolute indifference. +</P> + +<P> +"Health to the noble Lucius! Let him believe that there is no one of +his friends who thanks the gods more fervently for his recovery." +</P> + +<P> +On its face the speech was cordial—much too cordial for love that has +quarrelled; therefore he bent his head and answered:— +</P> + +<P> +"Were it not impiety, the noble Lucius would thank his well-wisher for +her words, more, even, than he thanks the gods for his recovery." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah!" she replied lightly, "then he must scatter his thanks yet more +broadly, for there cannot be a defenceless woman in Rome who does not +rejoice that so brave a defender is spared to the State." +</P> + +<P> +Sarcasm for sarcasm, he thought bitterly, but he answered as +carelessly:— +</P> + +<P> +"In that case, I shall not bear my thanks beyond the gods; for if my +health be no greater care to you than to all the white stoles in the +city, I think I can measure its value." +</P> + +<P> +An expression of almost infantile surprise and reproach crossed her +features. +</P> + +<P> +"You are either very forgetful or very ungrateful," she said. "If +Venus has healed so faithful a votary, surely mortal women have not +been lacking in their sympathy; nor, if report tells truly, has the +noble Lucius been lacking in gratitude—until now." +</P> + +<P> +That shaft struck home, and, for a moment, Sergius could find no +answer. He could only remember the episode of the girl who had come to +him, and wonder which one of his household could have borne treacherous +word to Marcia of his weakness and his discomfiture. Meanwhile she had +turned carelessly and dismissed her women, and one had gone, throwing +back laughing glances, the other, with her face still buried in the +wool with which she had filled her arms. +</P> + +<P> +Torquatus had been standing near, somewhat puzzled by what he felt to +be a battle of words between his daughter and his guest, but a battle +whose plans of attack or defence he found himself at a loss to fathom. +Feeling at last that it was incumbent upon him as host to break in upon +badinage that bade fair to become embarrassing, he spoke briefly of his +encounter with the mob and of Lucius' timely aid and clever ruse. +Marcia listened closely, nodding her head from time to time, but her +colour had deepened and her hand was clenched tight when the story was +finished. +</P> + +<P> +"Who will be safe in Rome, father!" she burst out. "The rabble elect +their magistrates, and the magistrates, in return, let them do as they +please. When it comes to attacking you; a consular—a Manlius! We +must sleep no more in our houses unless the household be in arms and on +guard." +</P> + +<P> +Sergius gazed in astonishment. A Marcia spoke whom he had never known; +but the old man smiled grimly. +</P> + +<P> +"It is the blood," he said. "She is truly 'Manlia,' though called, +against custom, for my dead Marcius. When Claudians change the toga +for the paludamentum, and Ogulnians cease to babble of Greek +philosophy, then shall a Manlian be lacking in the spirit of our +order—ay, and in the courage to act." +</P> + +<P> +Marcia did not seem to hear his words. Her brows were drawn together +in what Sergius considered a very pretty frown. She turned toward him. +</P> + +<P> +"They have gotten their butcher for consul," she went on; "now let him +lead them. How long before they will be begging for the swords they +have despised! Let them alone! Let Hannibal work his will; then we +shall stand forth, like the exiled Camillus, to defend a Rome purged of +its black blood—a Rome worth defending—" +</P> + +<P> +But Sergius had recovered from his surprise, and his face was serious, +as he interrupted the torrent of words. +</P> + +<P> +"Patrician and plebeian must stand or fall together, my Marcia," he +said quietly. "It is the Republic that we shall defend, and defend the +more bravely because it is, in a way, defenceless. If a time of +madness come upon a parent, do we not guard her the more tenderly who +cannot guard herself?—ay, and even against the foolish acts she may +herself attempt?" +</P> + +<P> +"And you—you—a Sergius, will serve under this Varro?" she exclaimed. +</P> + +<P> +"Truly," he said bowing, "I am a Roman, and the barbarians are in +Italy. When they are gone, I will fight Varro on the rostra, in the +Senate. Perhaps I shall even lead my clients to drag him, stabbed, +from his house." +</P> + +<P> +She was gazing at him with great, round eyes in which the contempt and +anger began to give place to a softer look—a look which no man might +hope quite to interpret; then she threw her head to one side and +laughed, but the laugh was short and nervous. +</P> + +<P> +"I congratulate your eloquence and patriotism, as I sympathize with +your unpropitious gallantry. May Venus make happy your next pursuit of +a pretty slave." +</P> + +<P> +Again she laughed, and this time her laugh was unfeignedly malicious. +Sergius flushed crimson; Torquatus looked scandalized and stern; but +before either could answer, she was gone. +</P> + +<P> +"You will return to the army, then?" said the old man, hurriedly and as +if to cover his annoyance. "How soon will your strength be sufficient?" +</P> + +<P> +"I shall set out to-night," said Sergius. The flush had gone from his +face, and he was very pale, while his voice sounded as if from far +away. "By so doing I shall journey by easier stages, and shall avoid +accompanying the consul; nor will he reach the camp before me." +</P> + +<P> +"There is talk of new levies," said Torquatus, vaguely. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and there will be fighting soon." +</P> + +<P> +"Flaminius fought." +</P> + +<P> +"May Jupiter avert the omen! and you will forgive me, my father, if I +bid you a too hasty farewell? I had not determined to go so soon—but +it is best. And there is preparation to be made." +</P> + +<P> +Torquatus followed him silently to the door, and watched the light of +his torches till it died out below the hill; then he shook his head +with a puzzled, sad expression. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, truly," he said; "let the omen be lacking." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0113"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XIII. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE RED FLAG. +</H3> + + +<P> +The red flag fluttered in the breeze above the tent of Varro. +</P> + +<P> +Months had come and gone since the plebeians had triumphed in the Field +of Mars; months of weary lying in camp, months of anxious watching, +months of marches and countermarches. Contrary to the expectations of +Sergius, neither of the new consuls had gone straight to the legions, +and the pro-consuls, Servilius and Regulus, remained in command. +Paullus had busied himself in preparing for the coming spring, levying +new men and new legions, and directing from the city a policy not +unlike that of Fabius; while Varro, on the other hand, as if maddened +by his sudden elevation, rushed from Senate House to Forum and from +Forum to every corner where a mob could congregate; everywhere rolling +his eyes and waving his hands, now shrieking frantic denunciations +against the selfish, the criminal, the traitorous nobles who had +brought the war to Italy and sustained it there by their wicked +machinations and contemptible cowardice; now congratulating his hearers +that the people had at last taken the conspirators by the throat and +had elected a fearless consul, an incorruptible consul, an able consul, +one who would soon show the world that there were men outside of the +three tribes. Then he would fall to mapping out his campaign—a +different plan for each cluster of gaping listeners, but each ending in +such a slaughter of invaders as Italy had never seen, and a picture of +the long triumph winding up the Sacred Way, of Hannibal disappearing +forever within the yawning jaws of the Tullianum. At times, when his +imagination ran riot most, he went so far as to depict with what +luxuriance the corn would grow on the farm of that happy man whose land +should be selected by the great consul, the plebeian consul, the consul +Varro, for his slaughter of the enemies of the Roman people. +</P> + +<P> +To these harangues Paullus and the nobles listened in wonder and +disgust—even in terror; and when, at length, the consuls set out to +take command of the greatest army Rome had ever put into the field, the +story was passed from mouth to mouth of how Fabius had spoken with +Paullus and warned him that he must now do battle against two +commanders: Hannibal and his own colleague; and of how Paullus had +answered in words that told more of foreboding than of hope. +</P> + +<P> +Even the Senate seemed to have fallen under the coarse spell of this +mouthing ranter. News had come that Hannibal was at Cannae, had seized +upon the Roman stores in the citadel there; that, strongly posted, he +was scouring the country in all directions; that the allies could not +be expected to stand another season of ravage; and so, when the consuls +set out to take command of the legions, it was with the express +direction of the fathers to give battle on the first favourable +opportunity. +</P> + +<P> +Still, there was room left them for some discretion, and when Paullus +had viewed the country along the banks of the Aufidus, level as it lay +and open to the sweep of cavalry, his soldier eye told him that the +opportunity was not here, and that, with a short delay, the enemy must, +in the lack of safe forage, retire to more favourable ground. +</P> + +<P> +Then followed quarrels and denunciations and furious mouthings; but +Varro did not neglect to use one day of his command to lead the army +forward to a point between the Carthaginians and the sea, whence it +would be impossible for Paullus to hope to withdraw them safely in the +face of the foe. +</P> + +<P> +It was on the first of Sextilis that Hannibal offered battle; but this +was Paullus' day, and he had lain quiet in camp, "Sulking," as his +colleague exultantly put it, "because a plebeian's generalship had kept +another do-nothing patrician commander from running away." Then the +next morning broke—Varro's day—and the red flag fluttered from the +spear above Varro's tent. +</P> + +<P> +A group of men were gathered before the quarters occupied by certain of +the special cavalry: mounted volunteers, for the most part of rank, who +served out of respect to the consul, Paullus. Fully armed, with horses +held near by, they were already prepared to ride out at the word, and +they listened to the din of preparation going on on every side, and +watched the crimson signal of battle that now flapped lazily in the +wind and again hung limp against its staff. +</P> + +<P> +"The butcher has his way at last," remarked a youth who had scarce +offered up his first beard; but the man he addressed, Marcus Decius, +growled in reply:— +</P> + +<P> +"Wait, only wait, my little master, and we shall see who is the butcher +and who is the fat steer." +</P> + +<P> +"But," put in another of the company, "have you not heard that our camp +beyond the stream had no water yesterday? that the Numidians cut them +off from it? Doubtless we are to cross over to its relief." +</P> + +<P> +Decius rose from his buckler, upon which he had been resting, and swept +his arm out across the country. +</P> + +<P> +"All one," he said; "water or blood; this bank or that! Look! No room +for our infantry to spread out; level ground for their horse to sweep +clean. You have never been close to the Numidians, my master?" and he +pointed to the scar across his forehead. "They ride fast and strike +hard—when the country pleases them." +</P> + +<P> +The boy laughed carelessly, but said nothing, while he who had spoken +third hesitated a moment and frowned. Then he said in a lower voice:— +</P> + +<P> +"You are an old soldier, Marcus,—a head decurion once,—and you would +do better than try to terrify men of less experience." +</P> + +<P> +Decius ground his teeth, and his eyes flashed, but he lowered his voice +when he replied:— +</P> + +<P> +"I thank you, Caius Manlius, for the reminder; and I also may recall to +you that I am neither the only nor the highest officer who is serving +as volunteer to-day, because Varro must have legions commanded by +butchers and bakers and money-lenders. I, too, am a plebeian, and I +cast my pebble for my order (whereat the infernal gods are doubtless +now rejoicing); but I am also, as you say, an old soldier, and hold the +camp to be no place for the tricks of the Forum. As for frightening +recruits, if words and the sight of old scars will frighten them, they +had best ride north to-day hard and fast." +</P> + +<P> +Manlius' face flushed at the reminder of his own lost command, and, as +if by consent, both men glanced over at another who stood near them, +leaning on his spear. Drawn by the centred attention of the two, +Lucius Sergius turned from his inspection of the rising mists, beyond +which lay the Carthaginian forces, and looked silently and sadly at his +friends: Manlius, the brother of his mistress, parted from him for a +while by petty embarrassments and diverse duties, but, for the last +days, closer than ever in kindred service and fellowship; and Decius, +the sturdy comrade of the Campanian raid, the man who talked, now like +Ulysses, now like Thersites, but who always fought like Diomed; the +very Nisus who had saved his life. It seemed, too, as if the others +understood the import of his glance, for Decius turned away +ostentatiously, and sought to arrange the leathern straps of his +corselet skirt, while Manlius strode over and grasped Sergius' hand. +</P> + +<P> +"The butcher showed us better favour than he intended, when he put +others in our commands," he said gayly. "We shall fight side by side, +and perhaps my sister may be pleased to play the siren no longer. +Besides, I am well satisfied to be free from any of the +responsibilities of this day." +</P> + +<P> +"Marcia is no songstress of the rock, my Caius," said Sergius, half +sadly, half playfully; "unless her heart be the rock from which she +sings—a rock to me; but the gods have given men other things, when +women do not choose to love:—things that will serve to stir us today. +Afterward we shall be still." Then, noting that the young man who had +first addressed Decius was now watching their talk with troubled face, +he raised his voice cheerfully. "Tribune or volunteer, it is all one +to me. Do we not serve under Aemilius Paullus and his Illyrian +auspices? After this day, friends, we shall see no more pulse-eaters +in Italy." +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly, a blast of trumpets rang clear, above the noise of +preparation; lieutenants dashed hither and thither, their legs bent +along their horses' sides; several cohorts marched past, to man the +rampart nearest the foe, while from behind came the louder rattle of +arms, and the earth shook under the tread of the legions, pressing on +through the porta dextra, and spreading out in three great columns that +plunged down the slope into the Aufidus, and rose again, and pushed out +into the plain on its southern bank. Hastati, principes, triarii—they +marched in order of battle, ready to face about at the moment of +attack, while, as they deployed, the famished Romans across the river +swarmed down, under shelter of the protecting lines, and, lying thick +in the turbid water below, drank as if their parched tongues and lips +would never soften. +</P> + +<P> +The morning mists were clearing. Strange sounds and rumblings came +also from the south and west, and the red flag hung limp upon the spear. +</P> + +<P> +Still the legions streamed on, but no orders had come to the special +volunteers, and Sergius began to wonder whether they were to be left to +guard the camp, as an added indignity to their rank. He ascended the +rampart, with Manlius and Decius, and strove to pierce the distance in +the west. Now and then a broad flash of light seemed to shine before +his eyes, and ever there came to his ears the rumble of tramping +thousands; the dust, too, was thickening, to take the place of the +scattered mists, and the wind blew it up in blinding clouds into the +face of Rome's battle. +</P> + +<P> +"Gods! what is Terrentius Varro doing!" cried Decius suddenly, and the +three turned at his voice. A nodding forest of crests, red and black, +rising a cubit above the uncovered helmets of the legionaries, seemed +to fill the eastern plain and extend almost to where the Adriatic beat +upon the shingle. "Look at his front! Look at how closely the +maniples are crushed together! Gods! they are almost 'within the +rails' already." +</P> + +<P> +Sergius looked, and the frown upon his brow deepened. +</P> + +<P> +"Eighty thousand men," he muttered; "and we shall scarce outflank their +forty thousand. Does Varro wish to cast aside every advantage! Gods! +what gain is there in such depth? and he might—" +</P> + +<P> +"Evidently you do not understand the strategy of great commanders who +have studied war." +</P> + +<P> +The voice that interrupted was cynical and scornful, to a degree that +men hated the speaker even before they saw him; and, when the three +wheeled quickly, his face gave nothing to dispel the bad impression. A +tall, gaunt man, in plain and somewhat battered armour; a face +sharp-featured, very dark, and deeply lined wherever the wrinkles lay +that expressed pride and contempt and violent passions; lowering brows +from beneath which shone little beady, cunning eyes that opponents +feared and distrusted: this was Lucius Aemilius Paullus, the conqueror +of Illyria, the man who had barely escaped conviction for his +peculations, the colleague of Varro the butcher, a patrician of the +bluest blood in Rome, a knave in pecuniary matters, selfish and +ungoverned, but a brave and wary soldier from cothurni to crest. +</P> + +<P> +"You seem to be criticising a Roman consul: even my brother, Varro;" he +said again, for the three had only bowed in reply to his former speech. +"Are you not presumptuous?—you, Lucius Sergius; and you, Caius +Manlius—boys in war—and you, Decius, or whoever you may be—a man of +Varro's order, if I mistake not?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, my father, I criticise," replied Sergius, at last, for the others +said nothing. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps you were thinking that he has extended his front too far?" +said the consul, and there was infinite sarcasm in his tones. +</P> + +<P> +Sergius grew crimson under the taunting voice and the little, shifty +eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"I have ventured to say," he replied haughtily, "that the consul, +Varro, is not using our numbers as he might. As you have noted, the +front <I>is</I> contracted, where we might easily lash around their flank +like the thongs of a scourge. Nevertheless had I known that the noble +colleague of the general was near me, I would have restrained my words." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! then you have doubtless grown more respectful of commanders since +you disobeyed your dictator in Campania;" but now the anger in Sergius' +face told the speaker that the limit of endurance had been reached, and +his tone became less offensive. "That is in the old days, though, and +you <I>did</I> run twelve miles with a broken shoulder: you see I know +all—only I am sure that you are not realizing how deeply your general +has studied the Punic wars, or perhaps you do not know how necessary is +depth to the battle that would stand against the great war-beasts. It +is possible, barely possible, that our most scientific commander has +forgotten that the enemy has no elephants here; but what is that to a +great genius? He has learned that Carthage wars with elephants, that +these are best met by deepening the files, and that we are about to +fight Carthage; therefore he deepens the files, though the last +elephant in Italy died two years ago in the northern marshes. If you +are beaten, you will at least have the satisfaction of being beaten +while fighting most learnedly." +</P> + +<P> +As Sergius noted the bitterness and agony in the voice that spoke, he +found his resentment giving place to pity for the hard, grim man who, +powerless to avert, yet saw clearly every cord of the snare into which +he was being driven. +</P> + +<P> +"Do we guard the camp, my father?" he asked, gently, when Paullus had +finished. +</P> + +<P> +The latter started from the gloomy stare with which he was regarding +the fast-forming lines. +</P> + +<P> +"I have been offered the command of the camp," he said, almost +fiercely. "I have refused it. Escape to the north would be too +easy—and I do not wish to escape. What do you think the centuries +would do if I came home beaten? I who escaped so narrowly before?" He +leered cunningly at his listeners; then his face grew set, and his +voice cold and even. "I have solicited command of the Roman cavalry. +We shall fight on the right wing, beside the river, and I do not think +many of us will ride from the battle. Varro commands the cavalry of +the allies on the left, and the pro-consuls"—he hesitated a +moment—"the pro-consuls market their beeves in the centre. You will +cross with me now. My volunteers ride about my body. It is time. It +is time." +</P> + +<P> +The breeze from the southward freshened every minute, and the red flag +lashed out angrily toward the sea. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0114"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XIV. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CANNAE. +</H3> + + +<P> +The cavalry trumpets rang out their clear notes, and Sergius and his +companions threw themselves upon their kneeling chargers. Then they +rode out and down the bank, behind the consul who, with head hanging +upon his breast, had turned his rein the moment he had given the word. +What if the dust did swirl up in blinding sheets from the south? +Before them lay the Roman battle, horse and foot—such an army as the +city had never sent forth. What if its masses were somewhat cramped? +its front narrow? its general an amateur? They were to fight at last, +and how should a mongrel horde of barbarians, but half their number, +stand firm against the impetus of such a shock. A moment's hush; then +measured voices rose in calm cadence—the voices of the tribunes +administering the military oath to each cohort, "Faithful to the +senate, obedient to your imperator." What Roman could doubt that the +voice of victory spoke in the thunderous response! +</P> + +<P> +And now the clangour of cymbals and the roll of drums came up on the +breezes from the south, and, with them, a strange uproar of barbarous +shouts and cries. Then it was that the Roman legionaries began to +crash their heavy javelins against their great, oblong shields until +the din drowned everything else, and the thunder of Jove himself might +have roared in vain. +</P> + +<P> +Sergius had ridden up the bank, almost at the consul's rein, and his +eyes wandered eagerly over Varro's array. Eight full legions with +their quota of allies seemed welded into one huge column: Romans on the +right, Italians on the left. The sun was well up, and its rays played +upon a very sea of bronze from which the feathered crests rose and +shivered like foam. Far beyond the column, on the extreme left, he +could make out squadrons of allied horse, and then he turned to take +his place amid the cavalry of the city: young men well born, burning +with courage and ardour and wrath. Despite himself his heart rose with +a leap of triumph. A moment later he caught the little, beady eyes of +the consul looking through him, as it were, while the thin mouth +beneath writhed itself into a sneer. +</P> + +<P> +"You hope? That is well," said Paullus. "Young men fight better and +die better when they hope; but I will show you how a Roman soldier can +give up his life for naught. I would wish," he added with lowered +voice and speaking as if in self-communion, "that more of our horsemen +had adopted the Greek arms. Reed spears and ox-hide bucklers will not +stand long against heavy cavalry. A temple to Mars the avenger, if I +had but a front of Illyrian horse! See now! There are the scum!" +</P> + +<P> +His voice rose eagerly at the last words, and Sergius turned from the +dark face now flashing with a sudden animation, and looked southward +over the plain. For a moment the dust was too thick; then it seemed to +clear away, and the Carthaginian army burst into view. +</P> + +<P> +Undulating like the open sea and rolling steadily on like the long, +slow sweep of billows upon a level shore, the glory of barbaric war +drew near. On their left, resting upon the river's bank, rode the +Spanish and Gallic cavalry, strengthened here and there by a horse and +man in full armour like those of the Clinabarians; and the face of +Paullus clouded again when he noted what opponents he must meet: men, +horses, arms—all heavier than his own with the exception of a few +turmae newly equipped in the Greek fashion. Beyond them, thrown back +in echelon, marched Africans in little squares of sixteen front. These +had substituted for their own equipment the Roman spoils of Trasimenus +and Trebia. Then, and again somewhat in advance, came alternate +companies of Gauls and Spaniards spread out in long thin array; the +former stripped to the navel, their hair tied up in a tufted knot, and +bearing their great swords upon their shoulders; the Spaniards +glittering in their purple-bordered tunics of snowy linen. The waving +pikes of phalanges told of more Africans who seemed to lie in echelon +beyond, while far away, toward the low hills overgrown with copsewood +that formed the eastern horizon, clouds of swift-moving dust, amid +which shadows darted hither and thither at seeming random, marked the +presence of the wild riders of Numidia who were to face the horsemen of +Italy and of the Latin name. In front of all, the plain was dotted +with naked men advancing at regular intervals and bearing small +bucklers of lynx-hide—the famous Balearic slingers that always opened +the day of battle for Carthage. The heart of Sergius swelled within +him, beating hard and fast under the tension of the moment. Only a few +minutes more, and those magnificent armies would crash together, not to +part until the plain should be heaped with corpses that were now men; +until the gods should adjudge the sovereignty of Italy. Then he grew +calm, calm as the consul himself, and gazed enraptured upon the +picture, as if it meant no more than art and show—only the wind came +fresher from the south, and the fine dust, ground up by marching +thousands, smarted and blinded his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +Nearer and nearer they drew, with steady, slow advance, while Rome +stood still and awaited their coming. And now a commotion seemed to +start from the far distant south: the roar of voices, the blinding +flash of the sun on tossing swords, a cloud of dust distinct upon the +plain, a clump of horse-head standards rising amid it, and a group of +riders urging their galloping steeds along the invaders' front. Rich +armour of strange pattern shone among them, and, a length ahead of the +rest, Sergius could see a white stallion with close-cropped mane, and +hoofs and fetlocks stained vermilion, that danced and curvetted and +arched its proud neck under the touch of a master. He was not an +over-tall man, but his figure as he rode seemed well knit and graceful. +His armour was of brown-bronze scale-work, rich with gold and jewels, +while a white mantle fringed with Tyrian purple hung from his +shoulders; a helmet of burnished gold, horned and crested, gleamed like +a star upon his head, while, even at the distance, even through the +swirl, of dust, Sergius saw the crisp curled, black beard, and dreamed +that he caught the flash of dark, deep-set eyes. There was no need of +the beating of weapons against shields, no need of the roar and howls +and shrill screaming in a score of tongues to tell the stranger's name. +Most of the soldiers kept ranks, but here and there a Gaul would bound +forward, dancing with strange leaps and whirling his sword about his +head, to throw himself prone before and beneath the vermilion hoofs +that never paused or swerved in their gallop. Not a movement, not a +glance of the rider gave sign of acknowledgment or recognition; not a +look was cast upon the grovelling form, safe or hurt or maimed—only +the soldier's comrades howled their plaudits, mingled with laughter and +rude jeers whenever the devotee lay still or writhed or rose staggering +from some stroke of the vermilion hoofs. +</P> + +<P> +But when the horseman drew bridle before the extreme left of the +centre, and, with eyes shaded by his hand, gazed long and earnestly at +the Roman array, the plaudits that had greeted his passage died away +into low murmurs and then silence. "The general is studying the enemy. +Be silent! Who knows but he would commune with Baal and Moloch? Be +silent!" So the word ran around and through the African squares. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly peals of laughter broke from the group of Carthaginian +officers that had ridden behind and who now clustered around him. The +calm that no devotion, no suffering, no danger of men could move, was +gone; the schalischim had turned from his measuring of the enemy to +smile and jest with his friends. Thereupon they threw back their heads +and laughed loud and long; and then the Africans noted it, and hoarse +cries of joy broke from their ranks. "The schalischim must be sure of +victory. Praise be to Melkarth!" Sergius saw a captain of one of the +squares run out and touch his forehead to the earth before his +commander; but no Roman heard the man's words pregnant with fate. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, my father, let The Lion's Brood lead the beasts of all the fields +to their feast. We hunger, father, we hunger!" +</P> + +<P> +And Hannibal had made answer, pointing northward toward the +plume-crested sea of blazing bronze, "Lo! friend; there are your meat +and wine." +</P> + +<P> +Then a new roar of acclamation broke upward and rolled away to the +east. Two richly armed riders parted from the group and dashed off: +Maharbal, light and slender, bending far over his horse's neck, rode +headlong in Numidian fashion to his Numidians; Hasdrubal, erect and +dignified, galloped to head the Gaulish and Spanish horse upon the +banks of Aufidus; trumpets, drums, cymbals, crashed out in mad, +barbaric discords; and, with their horse-head standards tossing amid +the forest of spears, the Carthaginian line drove forward to the attack. +</P> + +<P> +Running fast before the line of battle, Sergius could still make out, +even through the dust, those same naked men with lynx-hide bucklers, +dotting the plain at regular intervals, and each man's right arm seemed +always whirling about his head. The Roman light troops had pushed on +to skirmish, and now they began to fall back, though no arrow or +javelin could have reached them—could have flown to the foe. Sergius +watched in surprise their confusion and terror as they sought to plunge +among the legionaries or hide themselves behind the horsemen; nor had +they fled unscathed. Here a man ran by screaming and clasping his +shattered hand to his breast; then another staggered up, with arm +hanging broken at his side, while the big drops of blood fell slowly +from his fingers; and yet a third appeared, pale and helpless, +supported between two companions. +</P> + +<P> +Sounds, too, now dull and heavy, and again ringing and metallic, seemed +to punctuate the roar of the advancing host. Sergius saw a horseman +near him clap his hand to his forehead and plunge headlong to the +earth: horses reared and snorted, some fell with ugly, red blotches on +their breasts and throats; the clangour and the thuds came +faster—faster; for now the clay and leaden bullets of the slingers +fell in showers, like hailstones, and it was good armour that turned +them. +</P> + +<P> +Manlius had leaped down to aid a friend who was reeling helplessly, +with both eyes beaten out, and, a moment later, he approached Sergius, +holding up a slinger's bullet. The red had sunken into the lines of +the stamped inscription, and displayed them in hideous relief, "This to +your back, sheep!" +</P> + +<P> +"That is always the way with barbarians," sneered Marcus Decius. "No +blow without an insult—look! They shall have blows themselves, soon, +that will need no insults to piece them out." +</P> + +<P> +Paullus had watched with eagerness, with anxiety, for the signal to +advance. Varro seemed to hesitate, while the great masses of Rome, +lashed by the bitter rain of the slings, writhed and groaned in anguish +and rage; the light troops had disappeared, and the Balearians, now +close at hand, leaped and slung without let or hindrance. Then it was +that Paullus, waiting no longer, made a sign to his trumpeters. +"Scatter me that rabble!" he cried, and the cavalry clarions raised +their voices in one long, swelling peal of sound. +</P> + +<P> +"Close! close!" rose the shout of battle, and the Roman horse dashed +forward into the dust cloud—forward upon the slingers that suddenly +were not there, had vanished, as it were, into the earth itself. +</P> + +<P> +The straight trumpets and curved horns of the legions were ringing +behind them, stirred to life at last, but the horsemen did not hear. +What were those looming up ahead? Not naked slingers—armoured +cavalry! Hasdrubal with his Gauls and Spaniards were before them—upon +them; and all sense and volition were lost in the terrific shock. +</P> + +<P> +Line after line went down, as if at touch, while fresh lines poured on +over the heaving mass of men and horses, until those who were face to +face seemed to fight upon a hill. Fiercer grew the pressure, tighter +and more dense the throng; horses, crushed together, powerless to move, +snorted and tossed their heads in terror, while the riders leaned +forward and grappled with those opposite. Weapons first, then hands +clutching at throats were doing the deadly work, and the dead, man and +horse, stood fast amid the press, unable even to fall and become merged +into the hideous, purple thing beneath their feet. +</P> + +<P> +Mere weight, though, was beginning to tell. The human ridge that had +marked the joining of battle seemed far back among the enemy, and +squadron after squadron, in close array, breasted its top and plunged +down to mingle with the living or take their places among the dead. +The Romans were giving ground, slowly, stubbornly, but unmistakably, +and still, above the shouts and shrieks, the trampling and the clash of +weapons, the groans and the hard, short breathing, they could hear the +harsh voice of the consul, Paullus, urging his men to make battle +firmly. +</P> + +<P> +Backward, steadily backward; and now, in one of those mad rushes, in +which men who seemed immovably wedged were swirled about like the water +in a maelstrom, Sergius found himself close to the consul, with Manlius +but a few paces in front. The thin, cruel lips had writhed away from +the white teeth, the helmet was gone, and the scant, black hair was +dabbled with blood that flowed from a slight cut upon the general's +brow; the snake-like eyes sought those of the young patrician with a +look wherein exultation and despair were strangely mingled. +</P> + +<P> +"To the earth! to the earth, all!" he cried, at the same moment +plunging his sword into his horse's throat, and lighting firmly on his +feet, as the animal sank suddenly down. "We <I>must</I> stand. Gods! where +are the legions? Clashing shields and waving javelins, while we are +cut to pieces! Gods! they shall pay for it!" Then he drew close to +Sergius' ear and whispered as calmly as if in the praetorium: "Learn, +now, a lesson of war, my son. Hannibal destroys us piecemeal, choosing +where he is strong and we are weak, while Varro allows <I>his</I> strength +to stand and rest and wait for its turn to come. Down! down all!" +</P> + +<P> +Outnumbered, outarmed, borne down and back, the Roman cavalry still +fought, but the press had grown looser, the mass less dense; and now, +at the word of the consul, all that could hear his voice obeyed the +order of despair, ancient as the day of Lake Regillus. Man after man +sprang to earth. Here was freer swing for weapons, here was surer +foothold, better chance to stand fast, and, for a moment, the thronging +foe seemed to recoil before the determined onslaught. +</P> + +<P> +But it was not recoil. It was only the devouring of the foremost by +that red monster underneath. Who could recoil, with the squadrons +still pouring on, over the hill of corpses behind? Beaten, a man could +but die in his place, and that much they did. Many, too, had followed +the Roman example, leaping from their steeds and fighting hand to hand, +till the cavalry battle had changed into a thousand combats of man +against man. +</P> + +<P> +It was here that Caius Manlius fell. Sergius was but a few feet from +him when he saw the youth sway gently, and, bowing his head, sink down. +He had made an effort to push to his side, and then the front of the +enemy seemed to receive some new impetus and surged forward over the +spot. What mattered it? He had seen the red spear point peeping out +between his friend's shoulders. He was dead, as they would all soon +be, and the couch was purple and kinglike. At that moment, he felt his +arm gripped hard, and turned to look into the consul's face. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you not see it is over?" said Paullus, sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"How?" +</P> + +<P> +"We are falling back—<I>forced</I> back—faster and faster. We are where +we first stood. Do you see that sapling by the river? I marked it +before we rode out. Soon we shall break; come!" +</P> + +<P> +"Where?" asked Sergius. +</P> + +<P> +"Where there may yet be hope, if the gods will it,—if they strike down +Varro: the centre, the legions. I do not believe they have fairly +advanced their standards yet." +</P> + +<P> +"Do we fly?" and, as he spoke, Sergius frowned darkly. +</P> + +<P> +"Fool! We <I>fight</I>. Later, perhaps, we shall die, but not here. In +the <I>centre</I>—" +</P> + +<P> +As he spoke, a new, swirling rush seemed to carry them away, still +together, first with furious violence, then more slowly. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! it has come," said the consul, quietly. "This way. The dust is +blinding, but I think the sun is behind us." Pushing on and striking +right and left as he went, Aemilius Paullus fought a pathway through +flying and pursuing men. Sergius followed and once, when he saw the +consul cut down the boy who had stood near and talked to them that +morning, he stopped still and shuddered. +</P> + +<P> +Paullus paused and laughed at him over his shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"A flying man in the path of a general is much worse than a dead one," +he said. "Besides, none of them can save his life in that +direction—so it is nothing." +</P> + +<P> +At that moment, indeed, the prophecy that no man of the Roman cavalry +would escape, seemed fair for fulfilment. Few fought on, and these +were soon ridden down, while Gauls and Spaniards thundered upon the +rear of such as sought safety of the rein, and slew them with steady, +measured strokes. Only the consul with perhaps a dozen others were, +for the time, safe. They were clear of the rout; within the protecting +reach of the great, legionary column, that was but just beginning to +move, and they turned, gasping for breath, and, with dazed eyes, +watched the flight and pursuit sweep by along the river bank. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0115"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XV. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +"WITHIN THE RAILS." +</H3> + + +<P> +It was then that Sergius first realized that Caius Manlius, his friend, +the brother of Marcia, was indeed dead; but the time for such thoughts +ivas short. Clenching his teeth in a paroxysm of anger, he again +turned to follow Paullus and Decius, who had passed into the ranks of +the legions and joined themselves to the personal volunteers of the +pro-consul, Servilius. +</P> + +<P> +The great column was moving now, steadily gathering impetus, and there +was little speech between the generals. Servilius gazed with gloomy +brows at the consul and the half dozen men that remained to him, and no +question as to the fate of the right wing was asked or answered. +</P> + +<P> +"How fight they on the left?" asked Paullus, after a moment's pause. +</P> + +<P> +"The allies skirmish with the Numidians," replied Servilius. +</P> + +<P> +"You mean that the Numidians skirmish with them," said Paullus. +</P> + +<P> +That was all, and the two soldiers turned to their task. +</P> + +<P> +The slingers' bullets fell no longer, or only scattering ones, dropping +from above, told that these hornets had fallen back and sought refuge +behind their lines; but the roar of battle rolled furiously from the +front. +</P> + +<P> +"It is the standards that oppose at last," commented Paullus. "The +ranks are not too close—yet. Let us go forward." +</P> + +<P> +Servilius protested, but the other waved him back. +</P> + +<P> +"Here is <I>your</I> place who command, my Servilius," said the consul; and +a smile, sad rather than bitter, lit up the harsh lines of his face. +"It is I, having no command, who can justly ply the sword." +</P> + +<P> +Sergius followed, and in a few moments the increasing pandemonium told +that the front was not far ahead. The dust filled their eyes, and they +could see nothing beyond; but the signs were for the veteran to read. +Soon there was no more headway to be made through the dense mass; the +corpses of the slain were thick beneath their feet, half-naked Gauls +and Spaniards in white and purple mingled with the dead of the legions, +and still the column pushed forward and still the slain lay closer. +</P> + +<P> +"They give ground. We are driving in their centre," gasped Sergius. +</P> + +<P> +Paullus had been frowning grimly, but now he turned to Marcus Decius +and showed his wolfish teeth in his old-time smile. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you say, decurion?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"We drive them, surely; but—" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, truly, <I>but</I>—do you hear those cries on the flank? We drive +their Iberians, their Celts; it is the Africans that let us plunge on +like one of Varro's stupid bulls: then they put the sword in our side. +Could you fight now? I tell you we are already driven within the +rails. If the gods keep Hasdrubal slaying my runaways, there may be +hope; if he be a general, there is none." +</P> + +<P> +And still the column's headway seemed hardly checked, though the cries +and the clashing of arms resounded, now, from both flanks as well as +from the front, while, in the depths of its vitals, men were crushed +together till they could scarce breathe. A rumour, too, like those Pan +sends to dismay soldiers, ran quickly from heart to heart, rather than +from lip to lip. It was that Hasdrubal had circled the rear and, +falling upon the allied cavalry, had scattered the left wing as he had +the right; that the Numidians pursued and slaughtered: but where now +were the cavalry of Gaul and Spain, the winners of two victories? A +sullen roar from the far distant rear seemed to answer; but the +language was one that few could read—few of that host. Oh! for an +hour of the veterans that slumbered on the shores of Trebia and +Trasimenus! Oh! for an hour of Fabius, who lingered at Rome, powerless +and discredited. Who were these that wore the armour, that wielded the +ponderous javelins of Rome's legions? From under the bronze helmets +gorgeously fierce with their great crests peered eyes—stupid, +wondering eyes dazed by the uproar, blinded by the dust; eyes wherein, +while as yet there was little of fear, still less was there of the +knowledge of danger to be met and overcome; eyes that had but lately +watched sheep upon the Alban hills, eyes that were used only to the +flour dust when their owners kneaded dough behind the Forum. +</P> + +<P> +Ahead, around, the standards were tossing as if upon the billows of an +angry sea. Was that a silver horse's head that flashed far to the +right? +</P> + +<P> +"Look!" cried Sergius, striking Decius with his elbow. +</P> + +<P> +"You can see better now," muttered the veteran. "The flour is bread, +and the bread of battle is mire kneaded of dust and blood." +</P> + +<P> +The eyes of Paullus were turned upward in strange prayer. +</P> + +<P> +"Grant me not, O Jupiter, my life this day!" +</P> + +<P> +It needed no eye of veteran to read the sentence that was writ. +Driven, at last, within the rails, as went the saying, there was no +room in all that weltering mass to use the sword, much less the pilum. +On every side the barbarians of Africa, of Spain, of Gaul raged and +slew—for even advance now was checked, and the Celts had turned and +lashed the front with their great swords that rose and fell, crimson to +the hilt, crimson to the shoulder, crimson to every inch of their +wielders' huge bodies. The Spaniards, too, were stabbing fast and +furiously, while all along both flanks the African squares, between +which the weight of the column had forced its narrow length, thrust +with their long sarissas and rained their pila upon the doomed monster +in their midst: a war elephant, wounded to the death, with sides hung +with javelins and streaming with blood, rocking and trumpeting in +helpless agony. +</P> + +<P> +Sergius watched the dull, hopeless look deepening in the eyes of the +young soldiers. They reminded him of the beeves in the shambles of the +elder Varro. Even the voice of Pan could not wake such men. Were they +not there to die for the traditions of Rome? It was true that every +path leading to Pan's country bristled with spears, but only a few +could fully know this, and these awaited their turn with the rest. +</P> + +<P> +The press seemed to loosen somewhat. Perhaps the assailants had drawn +back to gain breath for a final onslaught; but, instinctively, the +staggering lines of the Roman column opened out into the space +afforded, and its four faces writhed forward bravely, pitifully. It +was then that Sergius saw the consul for the last time. He had turned +back from where he had forced his way to the head of the column; his +arms were battered and blood-stained, and he reeled painfully in his +saddle, for Paullus had mounted again, that he might the better be seen +by the legionaries. His wandering eyes took in every detail of their +hopeless plight; the last sparks of fire seemed to die out in him, and +his head drooped upon his chest. Then, slowly, he dismounted, having +ordered his horse to kneel, and the beast, unable to rise again, rolled +over on its side. Paullus watched it with almost an expression of +pity, and then dragged himself to a flat rock and sat down. +</P> + +<P> +Decius had sought to aid him, but the other thrust him rudely back. +"It is only the smaller bone," he said. "One of their accursed +stingers hit me." +</P> + +<P> +At that moment a rider covered with foam and dust and blood dashed up +to the group and, reining his steaming animal to its haunches, leaped +to the ground. +</P> + +<P> +Paullus raised his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"It is time for you to escape, Cneius Lentulus," he said. "You have a +horse." +</P> + +<P> +"It is for you, my father; that this day be not further darkened by the +death of a consul. My horse is good, and there are still gaps between +their squadrons. Ride to the east—" +</P> + +<P> +"And you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am but a tribune." +</P> + +<P> +"And a young man, my Cneius. Where is Varro?" +</P> + +<P> +"Fled." +</P> + +<P> +"And the pro-consuls?" +</P> + +<P> +"Both fallen." +</P> + +<P> +"And you would have it said, my Cneius, that the Republic degenerates? +that not one of this year's consuls dares die with his men, while both +of last year's were Romans? Truly, it would be a much darker day +should I escape with Varro than if I die with Regulus and Servilius; +besides, I have no humour for further charges and trials, in order that +the rabble may vindicate their favourite butcher. But do you go, +Cneius, and tell them that you have seen me sitting in my colleague's +shambles." +</P> + +<P> +There were tears in Lentulus' eyes, and he still strove to persuade his +general to accept the horse, but, at that moment, new shoutings and +clashing of arms announced what must prove the final attack. +</P> + +<P> +"They come again, my father," said Decius calmly. +</P> + +<P> +The roar of battle swelled up, all about the doomed column. In front +and flanks, Africans, Gauls, and Spaniards charged in unbroken lines, +and soon forced the deploying but weakened maniples back into their +weltering mass; in the rear, the attack was less continuous, for +Hasdrubal's horsemen were exhausted with slaying, and he hurled them in +alternate squadrons, now on this point, now on that, wherever the Roman +line showed relics of strength or firmness. So the front worked back, +driven by sheer weight in the direction where the pressure was least. +</P> + +<P> +Paullus still sat, with drooping head, faint with fatigue and loss of +blood, while Decius, Sergius, and Lentulus stood by him, helplessly +awaiting the end. A rush of fugitives swept by and almost overwhelmed +the wounded man; but Decius passed his arm around him, and the press +slackened. +</P> + +<P> +"It is time for you to mount and ride, Cneius Lentulus;" and the consul +raised his head again, while the old-time spirit of command flashed in +his eyes. "You shall be my envoy to the fathers. Bid them fortify and +garrison the city; go—" +</P> + +<P> +A new rush broke in upon his words,—a rush, in which the whole front +was borne back a spear's length beyond them. Sergius was thrown down, +but some one raised him, dazed and stunned, and seemed to bear him +along. A moment, and he found himself standing once more upon his +feet. Cneius Lentulus and his horse were gone; Paullus and Marcus +Decius were left alone far beyond—no, not alone. He saw the tunics of +the Iberians, now all as purple as their borders, thronging around; he +saw his general and his comrade give their throats to the sharp, +slender swords; and then he saw, far ahead, amid the Carthaginian +syntagmata, a swarthy, smiling face with crisp, curling beard; he saw +the brown-bronze corselet rich with gold, the meteor helmet with +ostrich plumes floating between its horns, the snowy mantle bordered +with Tyrian purple; and he saw the white head of the horse whose feet +needed now no dye of art to stain them vermilion. All the fury of +battle, all the madness of revenge overwhelmed him in an instant; +despair was gone, thoughts of past and future were swept away by the +surge of one overmastering idea: he must reach that man and kill him. +He looked around at the scattered, reeling maniples. A standard bearer +was lying at his feet, striving with his remnant of strength to wrench +the silver eagle from its staff, that he might hide it under his cloak; +but the death rattle came too quickly. Sergius picked up the standard. +</P> + +<P> +"Come," he said, "there is the enemy." And then, without a glance to +note whether his appeal was regarded, he rushed blindly forward. +</P> + +<P> +It was a discipline inspired by tradition rather than taught by drills +and punishments that came to the Roman recruit, and now it played its +part. These peasants, these artisans whose eyes had seen naught save +unaccustomed horrors through all the day, turned at once to answer the +summons of the eagle. Sergius heard the feeble shout of battle that +rose behind him, heard the scattered clanging of sword and shield, and +when he struck the long pikes of the first square, it was with the +force of half a dozen broken maniples welded into a solid mass. +</P> + +<P> +Still the sarissas held firm. Perhaps two lines went down, but the +pila rained their slant courses from the rear; the feeble rush was +stopped, and the legionaries struggled helplessly upon the spears. +Sergius saw nothing but the dark, bearded face among the +squares—scarcely nearer than before. Had he not read in a little book +written by one, Xenophon, a Greek, and purchased, at great cost, at the +shop of Milo, the bookseller in the Argiletum, how Oriental armies won +or lost by the life or death of their leaders? He would kill Hannibal! +Would to the gods that Paullus had fallen in the Cinctus Gabinus! +Paullus, too much of an infidel to think of such old-time immolation; +but there was yet one last appeal. +</P> + +<P> +Seizing the tough staff of the standard almost at the end, he whirled +it around his head and let it go at full swing; the silver eagle +flashed in the light of the setting sun, as it described great arcs, +and plunged down amid the hostile ranks; a hoarse cry went up: the very +deity of the legion was amid its foes! no Roman so untried as not to +hear its call. The short swords hacked and stabbed among the spears; +the first square swayed and rocked, shivered into fragments, and, +hurled back upon the second, bore it, too, down in the mingled rush of +pursuers and pursued. On every side of the dwindling band of +assailants, front, flanks, and rear, the pikes dipped and plunged, the +Gallic swords hissed through the air, the Spaniards ravened and +stabbed; but, to the Romans, flanks and rear were nothing: it was the +front, the Libyans, the lost eagle. +</P> + +<P> +And now, at last, it was won; the advance had been checked by the +closer welding of the syntagmata, half his men were down; but Sergius, +still unhurt, had stooped and raised the standard, kissing its crimson +beak and wings. Then he looked up. +</P> + +<P> +Half the space between himself and the bearded horseman had vanished, +and the latter was no longer talking carelessly with those about. His +steady gaze was fixed upon the young Roman, as if studying the exact +measure of strength that remained to him. There was nothing else for +it. Again the great staff described great circles through the air, and +again the crimson eagle soared and stooped, and the white stallion +reared and snorted, as it struck the earth before him; again the +shattered fragment of an army hurled itself, wounded and weary and +bleeding, among the ever thickening spears; yes, and forced its way a +quarter, half the remaining distance, until Sergius, whose eyes had +never for a moment forsaken those of the Carthaginian, saw them grow +troubled, saw the black, bushy brows draw together. Then his enemy +turned and spoke a few hurried words to an attendant, gesticulating +freely, until the man whirled his horse about and drove back through +the throng. When Sergius looked into the face of the general again, it +wore a disdainful smile—the smile of a Zeus that watches the sons of +Aloeus pile mountain on mountain in the vain effort to storm Olympus. +Again Hannibal was careless and unconcerned; again he laughed and joked +gayly with his attendants; his soldier's eye had set the limit of +Rome's last paroxysm, and it fell short of the spot where he sat—not +by much, but enough. All that remained was for the arrows of Apollo to +do their work, and now he had set these to the string. +</P> + +<P> +Wearily and yet more wearily the wolves bit and tore their way; then +they came staggering to a stand, three spear lengths from the lost +eagle, and then the pressure behind seemed to slacken, and the serried +spears in front bore them slowly backward. +</P> + +<P> +All was over. Sergius' eyes, dim and bloodshot, wandered, at last, +from the contemptuous smile that had held them, and rested upon the +score of men, for the most part wounded, that remained about him. For +an instant the spears and swords ceased their work, and the dense mass +of lowering faces that surrounded the last of the legions rolled back. +Lanes appeared between the syntagmata; a chorus of wild cries swelled +up—swept nearer, and the furious riders of the desert came galloping +through every interspace. To them had been granted, for a mark of +honour, the ending of the battle. It was only a single rush, a +brandishing and plunging of javelins retained in grasp, a little more +blood spattered upon the horses' necks and bellies. No legionary was +standing when the tempest had gone by, and there, among his men, with +face turned from the red earth to the reddening sky, lay Lucius Sergius +Fidenas, in slumber fitting for a Roman patrician when the black day of +Cannae was done. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0201"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +PART II. +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE QUEEN OF THE WAYS. +</H3> + +<P> +There was much bustle and confusion throughout the little inn at +Sinuessa. August was just closing, and the midday summer sun beat down +too fiercely to permit of comfortable travel save toward morning or +night. The inn-keeper had hurried out and stood in the roadway, bowing +and wreathing his face with smiles of welcome, while, behind him, were +grouped his servants, each bearing some implement of his or her +calling—a muster well calculated to impress the wayfarer with the +assurance of comfort and good cheer. +</P> + +<P> +The occasion of all this demonstration was a party that had halted, +apparently for refreshment and the customary traveller's siesta; a +rheda or four-wheeled travelling carriage, closely covered and drawn by +three powerful horses yoked abreast. Two armed outriders, one +apparently a freedman and the other a slave, made up the company, the +former of whom, a stout, elderly man with gray hair and beard, had +reined in his horse before the obsequious host, while the other +remained by the carriage wheel, as if to aid the driver in guarding the +rheda's occupants from intrusion. +</P> + +<P> +The innkeeper, short and fat, was breathing hard from the haste in +which he had sallied out, but his words came volubly:— +</P> + +<P> +"Let the gentlemen alight and enter—or, if they be ladies, so much the +better. They shall make trial of the best inn along the whole length +of the Queen of Ways. Such couches as they have never seen, save, +doubtless, in their magnificent homes, fit for the gods to lie +upon!—such dishes!—such cooking! guinea-hens fed and fattened under +my own eye, mullet fresh from the water with all greens of the season, +and such wine as only the Massic Mount can grow—" +</P> + +<P> +Here, however, he paused to take breath, and the freedman succeeded in +interrupting the flow of words. +</P> + +<P> +"By the gods! will you be silent?" he said. "Perhaps we shall try your +fare, if you do not take up the whole day in telling us about it. +First, however, it is necessary for us to learn certain things. How +many miles is it to Capua?" +</P> + +<P> +The innkeeper's face took on a grieved look in place of the beaming +smile of a moment since, but he answered promptly and humbly:— +</P> + +<P> +"The matter of twenty-five miles, my master." +</P> + +<P> +"At what hour do they close the gates?" +</P> + +<P> +The innkeeper glanced back at the group of domestics with a frightened +expression. +</P> + +<P> +"That is a military question," he said. "How can I answer it in these +times? It is dangerous to talk about such things." +</P> + +<P> +"Not dangerous for you," insisted the other, rather scornfully. "Since +you Campanians have become pulse-eaters, not the wildest Numidian would +dare disturb you. The cruel one is very tender of you all—<I>now</I>; but +wait till Rome shall fall, then you will know what his tenderness is +worth—when you are all busy grinding corn for Carthage—" +</P> + +<P> +"By all the gods! speak lower—if you must say such words," whispered +the innkeeper, white with terror. "If one of my servants should betray +me! Like enough the gate is closed at all times. It is said that +Hannibal enters the town to-night." +</P> + +<P> +"Hannibal in Capua to-night!" came a voice from the rheda—a woman's +voice, softly and delicately modulated, yet deep and rich in its tones. +At the same moment the curtains were drawn aside, and she looked out, +beckoning imperiously to the would-be host. "Come near, my good man, I +wish to speak with you more closely." +</P> + +<P> +The innkeeper stood as one dazed, with open mouth and bulging eyes. He +had looked upon great and beautiful ladies before, for many such +travelled by the Appian Way, but the beauty and the nobility of this +face seemed to him more than mortal. With all the grace, all the +freshness, all the radiant charm of the girl Marcia, were now joined +the calm and deep-eyed crown of womanhood. The perfect lines that +could so perfectly respond to playful or tender emotions were still +unmarred, and yet sorrow that had left no other trace had endowed them +with new possibilities of devotion and high resolve. +</P> + +<P> +"Come," repeated Marcia, and the little inn-keeper trotted up to the +rheda and stood watching her with an expression of canine wonder and +subservience in his big, dull eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Did I not hear you say that Hannibal was to be in Capua to-night? +Have these false Campanians indeed carried out the treachery rumoured +of them?" +</P> + +<P> +The man had forgotten all his fears of a few moments since, nor did the +slur upon his race rouse aught of indignation. Held fast under the +spell of the dark eyes before him, he made haste to answer:— +</P> + +<P> +"The rumour, madam, that a traveller left with me some hours since is +that Marius Blossius, praetor of Campania, has led all Capua out to +meet Hannibal, who is to feast to-night at the house of the Ninii +Celeres, Stenius and Pacuvius—" +</P> + +<P> +"But how was this done?" she interrupted. "It was said at Rome that +some few evil spirits, like Vibius Virrius and Pacuvius Calavius, were +ill-disposed, but surely the senators of Capua are faithful?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know as to that," said the fellow, with the stubborn dulness +of a peasant; "but I know it is hard to see your property and goods +destroyed and to hold fast to allies who do not protect you—and a +Roman garrison at Casilinum all the time. They say this African is +kind to his friends, and then, too, he sent home my son without ransom +when the young man was prisoner in the north—some battle by some lake +that I forget the name of—" +</P> + +<P> +"Such talk is well enough for the poor-spirited rabble," cried Marcia, +impetuously; "but was there none of noble blood in the city? None who +could compel duty?" +</P> + +<P> +A look of cunning crossed his face as he answered:— +</P> + +<P> +"Pacuvius Calavius took care of that. He cooped up the senate in the +senate-house, by telling them the people sought their lives. Then he +went out and spoke against them to that same people, and offered to +surrender them for death, one by one; and then, when they had given up +hope, he made a clever turn and persuaded us to forego their just +punishment. So it is said in Capua that Pacuvius Calavius bought the +senators for his slaves, and not one but runs to do his bidding. +Senators, you see, do not like the rods and axe any better than humbler +people like the sword and the torch." +</P> + +<P> +Marcia eyed him with disgust. Then her brow cleared. "What could be +expected from such a man," she thought. "Surely not exalted patriotism +or high ideals—especially when the class question had been brought +into play against public faith and public honour. Mere stupidity would +yoke him to the side that seemed to promise the most immediate +exemptions or rewards. It was possible, though, that the situation +might not be as bad as it was painted; that there might still be +faithful men in the second city of Italy—men who, while at present +held down by the skilful plotting of their enemies or the hopelessness +of open resistance, were yet waiting, vigilant to seize upon the first +promising opportunity to recover the lost ground. On the other hand, +innkeepers were apt to be a well-informed class, as to public +happenings, and this man told his tale with parrot-like precision. At +any rate, there was nothing to do but reach Capua as soon as possible; +for, the Carthaginian commander once within the walls, no one could +tell what precautions and scrutiny might be established at the gates." +</P> + +<P> +She turned to the freedman. +</P> + +<P> +"There is no time for resting and refreshment, Ligurius. We must not +lose the chance of entering the city before nightfall;" and to the man +who rode at the wheel: "Come, Caipor. A little weariness will not hurt +us." +</P> + +<P> +The driver's whip curled about the horses' flanks, and they started +forward; but the disappointed innkeeper laid hold of one of the poles +that supported the covering of the rheda and gasped and sputtered as he +ran:— +</P> + +<P> +"What now! Would you die of the heat? Am I to lose my custom because +I am good-natured and tell the news?" +</P> + +<P> +Caipor turned in his seat and raised the thong used to urge on his +animal; but Marcia, hearing the clamour, thrust the curtain aside again +and, motioning the slave to restrain himself, threw several denarii to +her would-be host. At the same moment, the horses suddenly quickened +their gait, and the pursuer, keeping his hold, was jerked flat upon his +face. +</P> + +<P> +"Be cautious!" shouted Caipor. "There is silver in the dust you are +swallowing," and they hurried on, unable to distinguish whether the +half-choked ejaculations that followed them were thanks or curses. +</P> + +<P> +There was a short silence punctuated by the cracking of the whip, the +clatter of hoofs, and the crunching of wheels along the pavement; then +the curtains once more parted slightly, and Caipor, watchful to serve, +saw Marcia's beckoning hand and drew closer to the rheda. +</P> + +<P> +"Bend down," she said, and, as he obeyed, she whispered:— +</P> + +<P> +"You were my brother's servant, Caipor, and you bear his name. Will +you help me to avenge him?" +</P> + +<P> +The slave's eyes flashed, and he straightened himself on his horse. +Then he lowered his head to hear more. +</P> + +<P> +"Ligurius," she continued, "will be brave and faithful to my family in +all things. I want one who will be faithful to what is greater and to +what is less—to Rome and to me. I seek safety for the Republic; and I +seek revenge for those who are dead. Will you help me when Ligurius +halts?" +</P> + +<P> +"The cross itself will not daunt me," he said simply. "Whatever you +shall do, lady, I will be faithful to the death." +</P> + +<P> +"For me, perhaps, to the death, Caipor," she answered; "but for you, if +the gods favour me, to life and to freedom." +</P> + +<P> +His cheek flushed with the rich blood of his Samnite ancestors, and, as +Ligurius glanced back from his post at the head of the party, the young +man made his horse bound forward, lest his attitude and perturbation +might bring some suspicion of a secret conference to the mind of the +old freedman. +</P> + +<P> +So they descended within the hemicycle of hills. The heights of Mount +Tifata began to fall away on the left, the rough, precipitous line of +crags, sweeping around toward the east, seemed to dwindle into the +distance, even as they drew nearer, while the low jumble of Neapolitan +hills, beyond which towered Vesuvius with its fluttering pennon of +vapour, rose higher and higher upon the southern horizon. A turn of +the road, a temporary makeshift, led them around Casilinum, whose +little garrison lay close, nor opened their gates to friend or foe. +There, at last, in the midst of the level plain that stretched down to +the sea, lay Capua, gleaming white and radiant beneath the brush of the +now descending sun. +</P> + +<P> +Gradually the great sweep of city walls grew lowering and massive. It +still lacked an hour of sunset, and the travellers had not urged +themselves unduly through the midday course. The foam, yellowed and +darkened by dust, had dried upon the horses' flanks save only where the +chafing of the harness kept it fresh and white. Marcia leaned far out +of the rheda and gazed eagerly at the nearing town, Caipor seemed +scarcely able to restrain his eagerness to dash forward, while Ligurius +shaded his eyes with his hand and viewed the spectacle like a general +counting the power of his approaching foe. Even at this distance they +saw, or began to imagine they saw, some indescribable change,—not a +flurry of motion or excitement,—they were too far away to note that, +had such been present. It was as though above, around every tower and +battlement hung an atmosphere of hostility and defiance; yet this was +the friend of Rome through days of weal and days of woe,—the second +city of Italy. +</P> + +<P> +Nearer and nearer they drew. The horses threw their heads in the air, +and, presaging rest and provender, quickened their pace, without +urging. Suddenly an exclamation burst from the lips of Ligurius. +</P> + +<P> +"Look!" he cried. "It is true. They are indeed here." Marcia and +Caipor strove to follow his hand. "My northern eyes, old though they +be, are better than yours of the south. Do you not see them—one, two, +three! Gods! They are thick on the walls." +</P> + +<P> +"What? in the name of Jove!" exclaimed Marcia, impatiently, and then +Caipor started. +</P> + +<P> +"I see! I see now," he cried. "Ah! mistress, they are the standards +of Carthage; the horses' heads, yellow, with red manes. Gods, how they +glitter! Gold and blood—gold and blood!" +</P> + +<P> +"Drive on," said Marcia, for they had all drawn rein, half +unconsciously, and she lay back, behind the curtains of the rheda. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0202"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +II. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE GATE. +</H3> + + +<P> +A harsh cry of command or warning rang out ahead, and the rheda stopped +short with a jolt. Ligurius had thrown his horse upon his haunches and +then backed him so as to take post at that side of the vehicle +unprotected by Caipor; but, a moment later, the rush of a dozen tall +figures thrust them both away, the curtains were torn aside, and Marcia +looked out into savage faces and great, staring, blue eyes. Three or +four overlapping circlets of iron just above the hips seemed the limit +of these men's defensive armour, and the skin of some animal was thrown +about the brawny shoulders of such as had not replaced their barbaric +mantles with the Roman military cloak; the hair of each, black or red, +but always long and indescribably filthy, was caught up in a knot at +the top of the head, whence it streamed away, loose or matted, like the +tail of an unkempt horse; their feet were bare, and their legs were +covered by linen breeches bound close with leathern thongs. It needed +not the great broad-swords slung about their shoulders to tell them for +Hannibal's Gauls—creatures scarcely half human, whose name brought +terror to the Roman maiden of the days of Cannae, as the sight of them +had carried death or slavery to her less-favoured sister of the blacker +days of the Allia. +</P> + +<P> +But Marcia showed little of womanish weakness. To the jargon of a +dozen voices—a jargon that sounded like the yelping and barking of a +pack of dogs—she opposed a cold and dignified silence. A dozen hands +reached out to touch her, as they would touch something strange and +admirable; but she drew back, and the rude hands and staring, blue eyes +fell before the flash of her indignation. +</P> + +<P> +At that instant, a man strode forward, hurling the soldiers from his +path to right and left, or striking them fiercely with his staff. +Taller by almost half a head than the others, his richer vesture and +arms, but, above all, the gold collar about his neck and the gold +bracelets upon his arms, marked the chief. Standing by the rheda, he +met Marcia's look of proud defiance, for a moment; then his eyes +shifted and seemed to wander; but, cloaking with martial sternness the +embarrassment of the barbarian, he spoke in Gallic:— +</P> + +<P> +"Who are you?" +</P> + +<P> +Unable to understand the question, much less to answer it, she turned +away and ignored both the man and his words. Again the look of +indecision and embarrassment returned to his face; but, glancing round, +he saw Ligurius struggling in the hands of his captors, and caught some +words of Gallic in his half-throttled remonstrances. +</P> + +<P> +"Bring him," he said shortly, with a motion of his staff, and the +freedman, who had been roughly pulled from his horse, was thrust +forward, his clothes hanging in tatters, and his face bruised and +bleeding from his efforts to break loose and guard his mistress from +intrusion or insult. +</P> + +<P> +"Who is <I>she</I>, and who are you?" asked the chief, sternly; for his +eyes, now that they looked into those of a man and an inferior, had +regained all their wild fierceness. +</P> + +<P> +Ligurius hesitated, partly from lack of wind and partly from a doubt as +to how much or what it would be wise to tell. +</P> + +<P> +"Speak!" cried the other, impatiently. +</P> + +<P> +Marcia threw aside the curtains which had been allowed to fall back in +their place, and leaned out. The scene looked critical; the Gaul's +face was working with nervous irritation, while his followers, scarcely +recovered from his sudden onslaught, stood around in a ring, some +fingering their swords, and with expressions whose wonder and stupidity +seemed fast giving place to the lust of blood and plunder. Caipor had +been knocked senseless at the beginning, and the driver was in the +hands of several soldiers. +</P> + +<P> +Ligurius looked inquiringly at his mistress. +</P> + +<P> +"He asks who we are," he said. "What shall I say?" +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! you plot to deceive me," cried the Gaul, losing control of his +temper, and, before Marcia could answer, he struck the freedman down +with his staff. One of his followers shifted his sword belt, and, half +drawing the great weapon, stepped forward; but Marcia had sprung from +the rheda, and stood, with clenched hands and flashing eyes, above her +prostrate attendant. +</P> + +<P> +"Bandits! Murderers!" she cried. "Does your general permit you to rob +and kill travellers that seek to enter a friendly city?" +</P> + +<P> +Understanding the act rather than the words, the soldier halted, and +the chief's eyes began again to shift nervously; but soon an expression +of mingled lust and cunning came into them. +</P> + +<P> +"You are beautiful," he said. "You shall not die, you shall dwell in +my hut." +</P> + +<P> +Marcia shuddered at the glance and change of tone. He reached out his +arms, tattooed in blue designs, and made as if to advance. She drew a +dagger from her girdle. Infuriated by the sight of what he took to be +a hostile weapon, the barbarian's sword was out in an instant. Then he +perceived that the dagger was directed not at his breast, but at the +woman's. The point of the great sword, already half raised, dropped +slowly to the ground, and a new look of embarrassed amazement took the +place of the momentary glare of savage fury. +</P> + +<P> +How it would have ended never transpired, for a commotion at the gate +attracted the attention of all. A small detachment of soldiers was +advancing, at a leisurely pace, headed by a young officer whose arms +blazed with gold and silver. No Hannibalian veterans these. As they +came near, even Marcia could note the sleek, soft look of the men, and +their listless, muscleless gait; while their leader's hair and person +literally reeked with perfumes. His eyes turned slowly from the huge +Gaul to the woman; then a flash of animation lent them light. +</P> + +<P> +"How is this?" he asked. "Why this tumult? Who are these people?" +</P> + +<P> +The Gaul shook his head defiantly, as if ignorant of the speech of his +interrogator, while his followers began to nudge each other, pointing +out the round limbs and fresh complexions of the Capuans, and laughing +scornfully. +</P> + +<P> +The young officer flushed, and, turning to Marcia, repeated the +question. +</P> + +<P> +"I am a Roman. Do you not understand my tongue?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +He glanced fearfully at the Gauls. Then, reassured by their evident +failure to comprehend, he regained his assurance and answered:— +</P> + +<P> +"Surely, lady, an educated Capuan cannot fail to understand all +languages, civilized or barbarous. I speak the Greek, the Roman—all; +only permit me to beg you to be less frank in naming your city: 'Roman' +is a dangerous word to use here. What has led one so beautiful and so +accomplished to run the risk of such a journey? Do you not know that +Hannibal and his men are in Capua? That is why these beasts have been +able to disturb you; but fear not," he continued, as she was about to +speak, "<I>I</I> also am here to protect you," and he accompanied the words, +with a glance that left the nature of the protection offered more than +equivocal. +</P> + +<P> +Suppressing her mingled feelings of disgust and amusement, Marcia +answered haughtily:— +</P> + +<P> +"May Jove favour you for your offer; but has it come that the expected +guest of Pacuvius Calavius needs protection at the gate of Capua?" +</P> + +<P> +Amazement and deference were at once apparent in his changed manner. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah!" he said slowly, as if trying to gather his wits; "that is +different—very different. It is a double regret that these vermin +have troubled you; but you are safe now." +</P> + +<P> +Marcia found herself wondering whether he would allude to the Gauls so +scornfully had they been able to understand his words. +</P> + +<P> +The Capuan turned to the Gallic chief, who, together with his +followers, had drawn nearer. +</P> + +<P> +"Make way!" he cried. "Loose the slave that drives." Then to his own +men, "Raise up the two that are hurt;" and to Marcia, "And you, lady; +will it please you to return to your carriage?" +</P> + +<P> +But the Gauls, although evidently understanding the nature of his +orders, showed no disposition to obey them. On the contrary, at a few +words from their chief, they pushed closer yet, and some of them even +began to jostle the soldiers of the Capuan guard. A light blow or a +sharp word bade fair to precipitate a conflict that, despite the +numerical equality, could hardly be doubtful in its outcome, when a +sharp, commanding voice rang out behind. +</P> + +<P> +All swung around, as if to meet a blow, and the press opened. A rider, +glittering in arms of simple but rich design, and mounted upon a black +horse, was advancing from the gate. Two Spaniards, who rode several +spear lengths behind him, were his sole escort; but, alone or at the +head of a legion, it was all the same: no eye of Gaul or Capuan saw +aught but the one horseman; and yet it was not easy to tell wherein the +force lay. He was a young man, probably twenty—possibly twenty-five, +for life advanced quickly under the sun of Africa. His figure was +slender and boyish, his face thinly bearded, a lack which was +accentuated by the beard being divided into two points. Yes, now they, +saw; it was his eyes that had dispelled the boast and swagger of the +Gaul, the superciliousness of the Capuan, and whatever of brawling +boldness had been in either. These eyes were black and large and +flashing with courage and energy and the pride of noble birth. No +detail of the scene seemed to escape their first glance, and he asked +no question, as he rode into the crowd. +</P> + +<P> +"Ardix," he said, addressing the Gaul in his own tongue, "back to your +gate! and you," turning to the Capuan officer and changing his language +with ready ease, "it would be wise for you to consider the unwisdom of +quarrelling with our veterans." +</P> + +<P> +There was just enough of contempt in the inference of the last word to +check the flow of explanation and complaint that was rising to the lips +of the young exquisite. The newcomer had turned his back. The Capuan +saw his followers slinking away with Ardix and his Gauls. It was hard +to lose a chance of talking with a great man, and surely a few of the +words he could choose and speak so well would compel the Carthaginian +to value him at his worth. Still, there was something that impressed +upon him the unwisdom of speech, and, after a moment of embarrassed +indecision, he turned and strode away after the rest, seeking to +conceal the humiliation of his retreat by the swagger of his gait and +the fierceness of his expression—which there was no one to see. +</P> + +<P> +While this little comedy was passing, he, whose advent had been its +occasion, was regarding Marcia fixedly; but he now looked into eyes +that neither quailed nor wandered before his own. At last he spoke, +and in Latin:— +</P> + +<P> +"I am Mago, the son of Hamilcar. What brings a Roman woman to Capua in +these days?" +</P> + +<P> +This youth, then, was the famous brother of Hannibal; the commander of +the ambush at the Trebia. His voice was cold, harsh, and metallic, and +in his eyes there was none of the rude lust of the Gaul or the polished +licentiousness of the Capuan. They burned only with the fires that +light the souls of patriots and leaders of men. +</P> + +<P> +"I come," said Marcia, slowly, "for several reasons, and believing that +Carthage does not make war upon women." +</P> + +<P> +The eyes lost nothing of their cold scrutiny at the implied compliment +or the covert reproach. +</P> + +<P> +"And what reasons?" he asked sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"For the one," replied Marcia, and she was conscious of an effort in +holding her voice to its steady inflection; "that my house is bound in +hospitality to that of Pacuvius Calavius—" +</P> + +<P> +Mago's brow cleared for an instant. +</P> + +<P> +"Our friend," he said. "He is married to one of your Claudians." Then +it darkened again as he continued: "Well, and you seek him for what? +To tempt him back to Rome?" +</P> + +<P> +"I seek him," said Marcia, boldly, "because I am wise. Have I not seen +the narrowing of Rome's resources? the quarrels of the factions? I +have come from there, and I tell you that, if Hannibal have patience +until the spring, it is Rome that will beg him to take her. What part +has a woman with a man who cannot protect himself! Let her look for a +new defender, if she be wise." +</P> + +<P> +An odd look had come into the Carthaginian's face as she spoke, a look +more scornful but less threatening. +</P> + +<P> +"You speak true woman's philosophy," he said. "That is the philosophy +of these times. I am convinced that there <I>were</I> days, and women—but +pah! now it is only glory that is worthy to be a man's bride. Come, I +will lead you to the house of Calavius." +</P> + +<P> +Ligurius had recovered sufficiently to remount his horse, while Mago's +attendants had laid the still senseless Caipor in the rheda to which +their master now assisted Marcia. Then he rode on, by the wheel of the +carriage. +</P> + +<P> +As for the daughter of Torquatus, not even the consciousness of her +purpose, and of the high and bitter motives that had shaped it, could +drive the touch of shame from her cheeks. It galled her when she +considered how she must appear to this man—a mere youth and a +Carthaginian, and it galled her the more that she should care for his +opinion. That she had inspired only his contempt, was quite evident; +and she, whose glances had always gone straight as the arrows of Love +to the hearts of men, now found herself more annoyed by the +indifference of an enemy than she had been by the dangers from which he +had rescued her. She was not certain whether it was with a desire to +gain in his sight, or only in the pursuance of her plans, that she +spoke again. +</P> + +<P> +"Does my lord think worse of me for what I have said?" +</P> + +<P> +"I thought you a woman; now I know you for one," he replied, carelessly. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! but my lord did not ask as to my other reasons for seeking the +camp of Carthage." +</P> + +<P> +"That is a matter for Calavius to look to. If you come as an enemy—so +much the worse for him." +</P> + +<P> +"And if I come as a woman who would escape a hated marriage—to seek a +lover who has won her heart afar off?—" +</P> + +<P> +"Calavius?" laughed Mago, the boy in him suddenly flashing out. "They +say even the old men here are hunters of women. Have a care of the +Claudian, though. She may bite." +</P> + +<P> +Marcia flushed crimson. Mago was not an easy subject for female +influence. Besides, she began to realize that the respect she could +not help feeling for the attitude of the young soldier might hamper +whatever efforts she could put forth to ensnare and control him. His +closeness to Hannibal, however, would make his conquest as advantageous +as it seemed difficult, and it was some such thought as this that +prompted her next words. +</P> + +<P> +"Happy the leader and brother that has so single and so firm a +counsellor!" +</P> + +<P> +She spoke as if half unconsciously, but Mago shot a sharp glance +straight into her eyes. Then he answered, carelessly:— +</P> + +<P> +"My brother is the captain-general of Carthage, and I am only a young +soldier. Doubtless he is wise to ignore my opinions; and yet, had he +harkened to Maharbal and myself at the close of the day of Cannae—had +he let us press on with the cavalry and followed, with such speed as +the gods could grant,—I am convinced that within five days he had +supped in the Capitol." +</P> + +<P> +His tone changed, as he spoke, to one of fierce enthusiasm, and his +listener shuddered. Then, sinking his voice, he went on, as if +speaking to himself:— +</P> + +<P> +"Even now—even now—before the winter closes in, there might be a +chance. Later, they will recover strength and courage, and we—we +shall become—Capuans." +</P> + +<P> +Marcia hid her agitation behind the curtains of the rheda. She was +terrified by his vehemence and by the justice of his reasoning. Here +was the man whose whole influence would be pitted against the purpose +of her journey; and her woman's intuition told her that no argument or +allurement could turn his mind. It was with a feeling of relief that +the halting of the vehicle before the porch of a stately house checked +the unwise retort that trembled on her lips. Later, she could oppose +him better than if, yielding now to an impulse to controvert his views, +she had aroused suspicion. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0203"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +III. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +PACUVIUS CALAVIUS. +</H3> + + +<P> +The house of Pacuvius Calavius was well situated, near the centre of +the town, accessible to the Forum, and upon a street of considerable +width. The porch of the ostium was supported by four columns +delicately fluted and painted, the lower half in dull crimson, the +upper in ochre. A porter, in costume much richer than those worn by +most free Romans, lounged on a stool set upon the mosaic pavement, and +roused himself lazily to shuffle down and inquire why the rheda had +halted before his door. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! It was a lady"—and he smirked with insolent meaning—"who +desired to see his master?" He threw out his hands with a deprecatory +gesture. "The gods were, in truth, very friendly to Pacuvius Calavius; +but then he was very old—a complaint which few could guard against. +Oh!—" +</P> + +<P> +Mago had signalled to one of his horsemen, and the soldier's lash +whistled and wound itself about the slave's neck. All the fellow's +laziness and insolence vanished, and he fell upon the pavement, +writhing and whimpering. +</P> + +<P> +"Lash the hound till he does his office," said Mago, quietly; and the +short hand-thong rose again. +</P> + +<P> +But before it descended a second time, the porter had rolled and +scrambled to his feet, and was rushing to open the door. He vanished +with wonderful speed, and, a moment later, there appeared a man +somewhat above middle age, with a close-curling, white beard, and clad +in a robe so heavily embroidered with gold as to leave the ground +colour a matter of conjecture. With keen eyes that shifted nervously, +he hurried down toward the rheda. Then, noting Mago, and that he was a +Carthaginian of rank, he paused, uncertain, and his salutation savoured +somewhat of over-respect. +</P> + +<P> +"A lady?" he said hesitatingly;—"a lady who desires to see me?" +</P> + +<P> +Marcia parted the curtains and leaned out, smiling. The newcomer +stopped short and gasped in astonishment. +</P> + +<P> +Mago glanced sharply from one to the other, and his lip curled. He +signed to his attendants, and, with an obeisance that had in it +haughtiness rather than courtesy, he rode away. +</P> + +<P> +Glancing cautiously up and down the street, Calavius approached the +rheda. +</P> + +<P> +"And is it the lady Marcia who is to honour my house?" he began, in +words that carried more welcome than did the tone. "A dangerous +journey, in these days, and a dangerous destination. Surely you are +welcome—and who was the young man that rode with you? Did he know +anything of your name and birth? I trust you were cautious?—" +</P> + +<P> +Marcia laughed. +</P> + +<P> +"Do not fear, father;" Calavius frowned slightly at the venerable +title, and shook out his robe that the odours might permeate the air. +"Do not fear but that I was as cunning as your Campanians. I told him +I was a Roman—wherefore not? For the matter of that, he divined it. +He is Mago, the brother of Hannibal—" +</P> + +<P> +"And he brought you here?" cried Calavius, trembling now in good +earnest. "Surely it was done to ruin me; but whose plot?—whose plot?" +</P> + +<P> +"It is not necessary I should be your guest," said Marcia, with +well-feigned indifference. "Doubtless there are inns; but he guided me +here because I asked for your house, imagining that my father's friend +would have a welcome for my father's daughter." +</P> + +<P> +Calavius instantly recovered his composure. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! dear lady," he began, in a voice from which all the tremor had +vanished, "and do you dream for a moment that you should taste of other +hospitality than mine? Will you not descend—nay, I will help you—and +let us enter quickly. These are indeed troublous days, and every door +creaks a warning; troublous days, with each man's hand against his +neighbour, plotting by necessity, often, rather than by preference. +What! your attendants are hurt?" Again his voice shook. "A brawl? +that is bad; but come within. It is there you shall tell me of it all." +</P> + +<P> +So speaking, he assisted Marcia to descend, and, summoning his +servants, gave the rheda and its guardians into their care. Then he +led the way into his house, carefully fastening the street door behind +them, for the porter evidently had not halted in his flight, short of +the slaves' apartments upstairs. +</P> + +<P> +Marcia followed, wondering at the magnificence of the decorations. She +passed through passages lighted by hanging-lamps of gold and silver and +bronze; past walls rich with frescoes in black and yellow and red; +panels and pictures such as Caius Fabius Pictor could never have +dreamed when he ornamented the Temple of Safety; frescoes that so far +surpassed the work of Damophilus and Gorgasus upon the walls of Ceres, +as these had surpassed the art of Pictor himself. Then came courts +surrounded by rows of fluted columns, set with fountains that threw +light sprays of scented water over the flowers and the garments of the +passers; then more passages, with paintings of even greater merit and +delicacy of execution, mingled, here and there, with scenes where the +delicacy was of the execution alone, and that brought hot blushes to +her cheek. Amid all, were scattered richly carved pedestals bearing +beautiful statues done in marble or bronze, or great vases, black or +terra-cotta, with intricately composed groups of figures in the +opposite tint. It came like a veritable revelation to one who had +known nothing but the crude art of the Etruscans and the cruder +handicraft of her own people, tempered, as they were, by the taste of +such Greek artists as fell so far short of their native ideals as to be +willing to waste their skill upon barbarians. She had heard of the +wealth and luxury of the Capuans, but it had never entered her mind to +imagine that the luxury of Capua could demand, or the wealth of +Campania purchase, pictures whose distance and proportions were true to +life itself, and statues that seemed veritably to live and breathe. +Her eyes were big with wonder and admiration, when her guide and host +turned sharply to the right and ushered her into a small room that +looked out through a row of slender pillars into a portico beyond, and +thence into a garden that seemed a very forest of small rose trees. +Around the walls ran a shelf upon which were set a number of circular +boxes, while lying upon the table were several bulky rolls of papyrus, +in parchment wrappers stained yellow or purple. +</P> + +<P> +"My library," said Calavius, in a careless tone, but with a wave of his +arm that showed his pride in its possession. "Three hundred and +eighty-nine works—the best, and of the most excellent authors:—poets, +philosophers, historians, rhetoricians—all that is worth reading. No +man in Capua has a better show of literature—unless, perhaps, it be +Decius Magius," and his voice sank, as if the name had brought him back +to a realization of circumstances. "Here I can read without +disturbance, and here we can talk without fear of interruption or +listening ears. There are slaves always stationed at both ends of the +portico, to insure quiet." +</P> + +<P> +"And you are the man who has dared to turn Capua over to the enemies of +Rome! Truly, I cannot understand." +</P> + +<P> +Marcia could not restrain the words, and Calavius flushed. +</P> + +<P> +"Do not condemn me for timidity," he said quickly. "These are +dangerous seas for a man of mark to steer his craft upon. +Carthaginians and other barbarians are not citizens of Capua—no +refinement—no civilization. Much has happened to disturb me—to +unsettle my nerves. Decius Magius has been parading in the Forum, +defying our friends,—and who with him but my own son, Perolla, casting +discredit on my plans, and danger on himself! It was with the utmost +difficulty I could drag him away—and then, what does the Carthaginian +do but fly into a rage, and demand an audience of the senate, with a +view to punishing Decius. Nothing but my influence and that of Virrius +and the Ninii have persuaded him to forego his purpose for the time; +and that, only, by pleading the joy of this day, and that it should be +given to nothing save festivity and feasting. Truly, my mind misgives +me. Still, they have sworn that no Carthaginian shall have any power +over a Campanian, and—was not that a noise in the portico?" +</P> + +<P> +He rose and, gliding out to the row of pillars, looked up and down. +Marcia regarded him with contempt and pity. +</P> + +<P> +"And yet," she said, "it is for this terror and distrust that you have +betrayed Rome. Were there none of our soldiers and citizens in the +town?" +</P> + +<P> +"Do not speak of it," whispered Calavius, growing even paler;—"a most +frightful misfortune! They were taken in arms, or at their +business—what matters it which?—and confined in the baths for +safe-keeping." +</P> + +<P> +"And then?" said Marcia, for he paused. +</P> + +<P> +"And then some evil-disposed persons turned on the vapour." +</P> + +<P> +"They were killed?" she cried. +</P> + +<P> +"Not so loud!—not so loud! for the love of all the gods! It was a +mistake, a terrible mistake!" +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! guest-friend of my father," said Marcia, sadly; "I fear it is a +mistake that Rome will exact a heavy price for. You say truly that it +matters not how they were taken." +</P> + +<P> +"But I swear it was no will of mine!" he cried, and then, fearing lest +he had committed himself too deeply, he went on. "In fact, lady, they +say too much, who set this revolution at my door; who say that I was +the mover of all. Was it not Vibius Virrius who first suggested it? +Was it not Marius Blossius, the praetor, who led out the people to meet +the Carthaginians?—and see how my son is still with Rome! No, by +Bacchus! there are many here a thousand times more guilty—if it be +guilt, and on whom the rods and axes must fall first if there be +justice under the gods. You can bear witness at Rome to that." +</P> + +<P> +"There will be rods and axes enough for all," said Marcia, grimly, +filled with horror and disgust for the deeds told of, and with contempt +for this garrulous, timid plotter of treachery and murder. Then, +suddenly, she noted a sinister glitter in his eye, and, at the same +time, remembering her mission, she checked her words and went on, "Rods +and axes enough for all who are so feeble as not to take the +sovereignty of Italy when it lies within their grasp." +</P> + +<P> +"What—what is that you say?" he said eagerly, and the threat fled from +his face. "The sovereignty of Italy? Ah! it is a great prize! Who +shall deny it to us? Are we not the second city? Have we not allies +the strongest in the world?—a general the greatest? and when all is +over, who so fitting to rule as the first man of the first city?—for +Rome will be no more. Ah! I will deal with them gently, though; I +will conciliate—unless I be opposed too obstinately. You shall tell +them that. Are they meditating surrender? Do they not see that we +must prevail?—but," and his tone changed again to distrust, "I have +forgotten to ask, amid my anxiety about matters of state, why you have +come to Capua—a Roman—at such times?" +</P> + +<P> +Marcia laughed. She was ready for her part now, and this adversary, at +least, she despised,—perhaps too much, for he was a cunning man, in +his way, and when the matter demanded only chicanery against other +cowards. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! my Pacuvius, a politician like <I>you</I> asks me that?" she exclaimed +gayly. "Is it for a woman to remain in a ship buffeted and rocking in +the storm? a ship that must founder soon, if it be but left to itself?" +</P> + +<P> +"Is that truth?" he asked eagerly, but with a tinge of suspicion in his +voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Surely, it is truth: as it is truth that I, with many other women, +have gone out to such cities where there are friends of our +houses—cities friendly to the new powers, friends strong enough to +give us shelter and protection. It is my happy fortune to have found a +city and a friend the strongest of all." +</P> + +<P> +Calavius smiled complacently and stroked his beard. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, you have done well," he said slowly. "I am not without interest +with the captain-general of Carthage, and there may be yet greater +things in store for me. I will go now and send female attendants to +you, that you may seek the bath and your room, and have such +refreshment as you desire. I will talk with you again later, but +to-night there is the banquet at the house of the Ninii. Ah! it will +be the greatest feast that Capua has seen—a banquet to Hannibal and +the Carthaginian leaders. Farewell." +</P> + +<P> +He turned to go, but she rose quickly and laid her hand upon his robe. +</P> + +<P> +"You have not heard all, yet," she said, casting down her eyes and +speaking in halting phrases. "Do you truly believe that it is <I>only</I> a +woman's fears that have brought me to Capua? You have not questioned +me closely. That is not worthy of your wisdom. It is hard for a woman +to tell all things unless they be drawn from her." +</P> + +<P> +He stared with eyes full of wonder. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +Then, throwing her head to one side, she laughed, so that Sergius +himself would scarcely have known it from the laugh of the +free-hearted, jesting Marcia of other days. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, my father, you a Capuan and a man learned in the ways of women! +It is pitiful—this littleness of your knowledge. Come, tell me now, +as to a pedagogue, what is it that leads a woman to all places, through +all dangers?" +</P> + +<P> +"Surely, my child, it is love," said Calavius, vacantly. Then his face +took on an expression, first of furrowed surprise and then of gratified +vanity, an expression that brought the hot blush to Marcia's cheek, +even while she struggled to restrain her contemptuous mirth. His +manner changed at once to one of insinuating gallantry, which she +hastened to check before he should commit himself. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it," she went on again, glancing down that he might not see +and read her eyes; "what is it that makes women love men? What, if not +strength and courage? I am a Roman, my father; but Roman men are no +longer fit mates for Roman women. Where but in the camp of Carthage +shall I find one worthy of my beauty? It is there I seek my lover." +</P> + +<P> +Disappointment lowered on the face of Calavius. He had noted her +beauty, long before she had referred to it; but now he noted it with a +more distinct desire, and the words, "my father," which she had used, +though but a customary term of respect, grated the more harshly upon +his ears. Still, controlling himself, he asked:— +</P> + +<P> +"And which man of our allies has the lady Marcia chosen to bless with +the love that is too high for an humble Italian?" +</P> + +<P> +She looked the siren herself, as she answered:— +</P> + +<P> +"Surely, my father would not learn the secret of his daughter!" +Calavius winced. "Believe, only, that he who has been loved at a +distance is noble and powerful. However, if so be that my lord would +learn the truth, let him take her to this banquet. I have heard often +that much liberty is allowed to the women of Capua; why not, then, to +the guest of the noblest of the Capuans?" +</P> + +<P> +The mind of Calavius had been divided. With the first rebuff to his +rising passion had come the impulse to avail himself of his power and +of the helpless position of his guest to gratify his spite or his +pleasure as she might choose to make it. Then, at the suggestion that +she loved and had come to seek a Carthaginian of rank, he thought of +the disfavour—even peril he might incur by such a course should an +enemy or a slave learn the facts and expose him; and, finally, he fell +into a cunning casting up of the influence he might gain over the +lover, whoever he was, to whom he should be instrumental in +surrendering such perfect beauty. Again he winced at the thought, but +then, what more likely than that her silly, woman's vanity aspired to +the captain-general himself? and he, Pacuvius Calavius, might hope to +be the confidential go-between. What profit and influence might not be +found in such a relation!—so personal, so beneficent! After all, +there were many beautiful women—even among his slaves, and what was +the difference between woman and woman compared to the dream of Italian +sovereignty that hovered before his eyes! He knew well that no wife or +daughter of a Capuan would be present at that banquet—only the most +beautiful of the city's hetairai—but what of that? This girl was a +Roman—an enemy; the claims of hospitality between his people and hers +would be shivered in the coming crash of arms. What mattered it if to +gain a point—a great point—he wrenched loose his personal obligations +a few days sooner? Yes, Marcia should go to the banquet, and, if +Hannibal desired her, then he, Pacuvius Calavius, would surrender her +into his arms. He knit his brows and spoke:— +</P> + +<P> +"What you ask, my daughter, is truly difficult to compass, nor do I +know that any women or of what class will be present. Trust, however, +that all my power shall be at your service to gain any wish of your +heart,—and, as you know, I am not powerless,—only remember that it is +your will that I am doing. I will send a servant who shall lead you to +your chamber. Rest, prepare, and expect my return before the third +hour. Farewell." +</P> + +<P> +Marcia did not detain him. She noticed the wealth of odours that his +fluttering gown had left behind, and her contempt and disgust deepened. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0204"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IV. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE HOUSE OF THE NINII CELERES. +</H3> + + +<P> +The rustle of garments aroused Marcia from a sleep wherein had been +more of bitter revery than of rest; and, glancing up, she saw, at the +entrance of her apartment, two girls, evidently slaves. They had +knelt, with arms crossed upon their breasts and downcast eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Will my mistress be pleased to place herself in the hands of her +servants, that she may receive refreshment and whatsoever she desires?" +</P> + +<P> +The girl's voice was soft and musical. Marcia rose, and, with a slight +inclination of the head, indicated her acquiescence; then she followed +her new guides through new halls and rooms, around and through the +colonnade, to a part of the house beyond the garden. Here were the +apartments of the bath, and, under the skilful hands of her attendants, +she felt the fatigue and blights of the journey passing from her. No +such artists of luxury were known at Rome as were these slave women of +Capua; new refinements were revealed at every step—refinements that +seemed to culminate when the hair-dresser began her work. First came +the anointing with the richest odours deftly combined from a dozen +vials of ivory or fine glass; then the crimping and curling with hot +irons, the touch of which served also, as the attendant explained, to +consume whatever coarseness clung to the perfumes and to bring out +their finest and most delicate effects. Meanwhile the Roman simplicity +of Marcia's wardrobe and jewel-case had been thoroughly explored, not +without some scornful side glances on the part of the Capuan women, and +she who was in charge of the tiring announced their contents to be +quite inadequate to dress a lady for a banquet of state—an +announcement which brought more smiles than blushes to Marcia's face. +Still, despite her half-veiled contempt, there was nothing to do but +resign herself absolutely into the hands of such competent authorities, +and, besides, she could not say that she found the process altogether +displeasing. +</P> + +<P> +The elaborate structure of curls and frizzes had now been confined in +place by a net of fine gold thread, in which were set, at regular +intervals, pearls remarkable for their colour and perfect spherical +form; then a dozen long pins with carved gold heads were passed through +the net, and above and around all was bound a diadem of thin-beaten +gold ornamented with intricate open-work tracery. Finally, the +hairdresser, having bade Marcia behold herself in the polished silver +mirror which she held up, retired with an expression of serene +self-approbation upon her face, and gave way to other attendants. +</P> + +<P> +One of these bound the smallest of jewelled sandals upon feet that were +too small, even for them; another produced a long palla or sleeveless +tunic of apple tint ornamented with feather patterns, and fastened it +with amethyst brooches at the shoulders. Last, the head tirewoman +herself came to perform what was, after the hair-dressing, the most +delicate of all these operations—the adjustment of the cyclas or +over-robe, a garment of the finest texture and of a shade known as +wax-colour, through which the tint and ornamentation of the palla +produced an effect of inimitable beauty. A slender, vine-work design, +embroidered in gold, bordered the cyclas, and it was in arranging so +that the course of this would form harmonious lines, wherein the skill +and difficulty of the task mainly lay. +</P> + +<P> +A final appeal to the mirror followed, and then, with Marcia's +approval, the work was over. She was robed, indeed, for a Capuan +banquet, and in a manner her simple Roman taste had never dreamed of. +</P> + +<P> +As yet Calavius had not returned. She sat in the portico of the +garden, awaiting him, and time was now afforded her to think of her +plans, the risk she ran, and the objects to be gained. Not since the +resolve had first found place in her mind had she wavered and feared as +now, and an intolerable repugnance began to possess her. +</P> + +<P> +Darkness had veiled the city for several hours, but it was the darkness +of a southern night and of a city in festal mood. The stars seemed to +stand out from the blue-gray vault above, as if reaching down to the +earth—whether in pity or anger, she could not tell. Around the city +itself hung the luminous aura of its lights; the cries of revellers +sounded from the neighbouring streets,—even the rush of feet,—while, +to the eastward, the glow of the Carthaginian watch-fires seemed to +reach upward to meet the rays of the stars. Yes, these were hostile to +the invaders! She knew it now. They were the glittering points of +Roman pila descending upon the foe—pila driven by the hands that +mouldered amid the red mire of Cannae. Surely those men approved of +what she was about to do! Was not Sergius among them, and would he not +will her to make good, by her beauty, what the sacrifice of his own +strength had failed to accomplish? What interest had he, now, in her +as a woman, as a mistress, as a wife? Greater thoughts must inspire +the shade that was once her lover: their common city, its life and +power, the destiny of the world that depended upon the preservation of +both of these; and still she could not banish the feeling of doubt, of +disapproval. Perhaps Calavius would not return, or perhaps he might +not be able to gain for her permission to attend the banquet? +</P> + +<P> +A commotion at the street entrance, the sound of approaching footsteps, +and the rustle of a gown seemed about to answer her question. The next +moment, her host stood before her and surveyed with astonished approval +the appearance she presented. +</P> + +<P> +"You are very beautiful," he said slowly and as if thinking with regret +that he was surrendering such perfection for mere influence and power. +"I have spoken of you and your wish, and Stenius and Pacuvius—the +Ninii Celeres—consent to your presence. The litters await us in the +vestibule, and it is time that we set out." +</P> + +<P> +Marcia rose, and he led her back through the halls and courts. +</P> + +<P> +"Who will be there?" she asked, as they approached the street door. +</P> + +<P> +"All of especial note, except Vibius Virrius and Marius Blossius. They +are away, busied about matters of state. Mago also has just departed +on a mission to Carthage. There will be no Campanians save our hosts, +myself, my son, Perolla, and Jubellius Taurea, the bravest of our +horsemen. Of our good allies, you shall see Hasdrubal, Maharbal, +Hannibal-the-Fighter, Silenus the Sicilian, who is to write the history +of the wars, Iddilcar the priest of Melkarth, and the great +captain-general himself—" +</P> + +<P> +"Come, let us hasten," said Marcia, quickly, as if fearful lest her +resolution might forsake her while there was yet chance to withdraw. +</P> + +<P> +A moment later and Calavius had assisted her into a gorgeously +caparisoned litter. She hardly noticed the rabble that thronged round +the door as she passed out, and whom the slaves of her host seemed to +keep back with difficulty. Still, she was conscious of nudgings, +looks, and gestures that made her blush, though the words that +accompanied them were unintelligible. Calavius was furious and paused, +as if to give orders for harsher repression. Then a voice called out +in coarse jargon—half Latin, half Campanian:— +</P> + +<P> +"She is pretty, my Pacuvius! Venus grant her to restore your youth!" +</P> + +<P> +With an effort, he twisted his features into a smile. +</P> + +<P> +"May the gods favour your wish, my friend!" he said. Then, plunging +into his litter, he clapped his hands, for the bearers to proceed, and, +lying back among the cushions, ground his teeth in rage. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! I must play to them—now. Later I shall remember and know how to +avenge. The lump of filth! Who knows, though, but that he spoke +wisdom? Perhaps I am truly giving up the hope of my youth to others." +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile the bearers were running swiftly through the streets; that +is, as swiftly as the crowds and their condition and humour permitted. +Torches gleamed everywhere, and, from time to time as the curtains +parted slightly, Marcia caught glimpses of the scene. The city had +abandoned itself to the wildest debauchery—a debauchery that had about +it more of the desire to drown unpleasant thoughts and haunting fears +than of spontaneous exultation or mirth; and their drunkenness seemed +but a garment, thrown over the head to shut out the approaching spectre +of Roman retribution. All Capua presented to her the spectacular +results of a turbulent democracy exalted to power; for the vagaries of +the Roman plebeians seemed as nothing beside the unbridled insolence of +this populace. Here was Pacuvius Calavius, who had triumphed by their +aid over a senate more than half in sympathy with Rome; and now, +recognizing his litter, they thronged around it, calling out familiar +greetings, or even sheer vulgarities, pulling the curtains aside, +kissing their hands to him, and, from time to time, compelling his +bearers to pause while they slobbered drunken kisses upon his garments +and person. No sign of true respect greeted their leader; it seemed as +if the mob recognized him only as the creature of its whim, to be +upheld as a facile puppet or cast down by the first savage gust of +discontent. +</P> + +<P> +As for Calavius himself, he, too, fell readily into the part assigned +him. His face was wreathed in a constant smile, his lips spoke only +compliments, his hands waved greetings, until, at last, Marcia lay +back, and, closing her eyes, refused to see more of her host's +degradation. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly the litter-bearers paused and set down their burdens. In +distance the journey had been short, but the many enforced halts had +made it seem as if the whole city had been traversed. They were now +before the porch of a house that was, if possible, even more +magnificent than that of Calavius. Every column was twined with +garlands, flowers hung in festoons from the architrave, incense steamed +up from brazen tripods set on either side of the entrance. In front +and around the entire insula, the streets were packed dense with a +seething crowd, save only for a small space before the vestibule, where +was stationed a guard of Africans equipped in the manner of Roman +legionaries. These were rude, wiry soldiers, scornful of civilians and +their fancied rights, but, above all, contemptuous of the soft +Campanian mob that arrogated so much and could command so little. At +first the populace had tried to browbeat and play with them, and the +soldiers had sallied out into the street and killed a couple of the +most talkative, wounding half a dozen more. Now the cowardly Capuans +stood back in awe, giving passage whenever the strangers called for it, +and hardly daring to whisper among themselves as to what manner of rule +they had invited to destroy them. Were it not for this summary +treatment it is doubtful whether any of the guests would have been able +to gain the entrance—least of all Calavius, who was looked upon as +their peculiar creation and mouthpiece, and at whom a hundred +complaints were volleyed (in low voices, be it said) as he made his +slow way through the press. +</P> + +<P> +Glad to escape at last from a position at once embarrassing and +dangerous, he now made haste to escort Marcia between the files of +foreign guards, into the atrium, where the Ninii Celeres—smiling +hosts—had stationed themselves to receive the guests that had been +bidden to so important a festivity. Thence he led her, muffled as she +was, to a vestiarium opening to the left side, where were already some +half-dozen women, whose attendants were adding the finishing graces to +toilets disarranged in the litters. One of these latter was assigned +to Marcia's aid, but a few touches to her hair and a slight +readjustment of the cyclas were all that was needed. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile, the Roman was watching, with deep interest, the group in the +court of the atrium. She had taken a position from which she could +have an unobstructed view through the doorway, and her attendant had +evidently informed herself as to the identity of the strangers, and was +anxious to win approval by communicating her knowledge. +</P> + +<P> +"That is he, most beautiful lady; the one with the long, white tunic, +at the right of my masters. Is he not poorly dressed for so great a +man? Who would imagine him of any consequence at all?" +</P> + +<P> +While the girl spoke, Marcia was regarding earnestly, and for the first +time, the chief of Carthage, the conqueror of Trebia and Trasimenus and +Cannae—of Sempronius and Flaminius and Varro. She saw a man slightly +above the middle height, well built, with strong, aquiline features and +thick, black, curling beard and hair, though the latter was worn away +at the temples by constant pressure of the helmet. It was a face that +combined deep thought, immeasurable pride, and absolute self-poise and +inscrutability—a face that would have been handsome but for the +disfiguring effect of the eye lost in the marshes of the Arnus. +Perhaps it was this that lent it something of its prevailing expression +of sadness; perhaps it was a realization of responsibilities met and to +be met and a premonition of the inevitable end. His dress was, as the +maid had so scornfully commented, plain in the extreme—a striking +contrast to the celebrated magnificence of his armour and military +equipment. Now, a simple, white, tunic-like garment, relieved by a +narrow border of gold, descended to his feet, while a slender gold +fillet was his sole ornament in addition to the seal finger-ring and +heavy earrings, which he wore in common with his companions. +</P> + +<P> +The latter formed a group hardly less interesting than their leader, +and the girl pointed them out, one by one, and made her approving or +slurring comments. There was Hasdrubal, coarse-featured, middle-sized, +and corpulent, whose garments gleamed with purple and gold, and whose +ears, fingers, and neck glittered with a profusion of jewels. Him +Marcia's informant evidently regarded with admiration approaching to +awe, although his skill as manager of the commissariat, and his +exploits as a soldier when occasion demanded, were probably unknown to +her. +</P> + +<P> +Maharbal, slight and agile, with plain, dark robe and few jewels, with +hair dressed high, diadem of plumes, and beard worn forked in the +Numidian fashion, attracted but passing comment. He was doubtless a +savage from the desert and of little wealth. Another of the generals, +however, seemed to arouse more positive sentiments: a giant in size, +with scarlet tunic, and loaded with gold chains and rings and gems, his +dark, ferocious face towered above the heads of his companions. The +woman's voice sank to a whisper as she said:— +</P> + +<P> +"That is the one they call Hannibal-the-Fighter. They say he never +spares an enemy, and that he eats the flesh of those he kills. May the +gods grant that my masters shall wean him to-night from the love of +such hideous, barbaric fare!"—and yet, with all her horror, Marcia +almost smiled to note how the girl looked upon this brute with more of +woman's feeling for man than she bestowed upon any of his better +favoured and more famous compatriots. +</P> + +<P> +From these four the Roman's eyes wandered to a fifth Carthaginian, who +seemed to complete the tale of guests of that nationality. Her +informant had passed him by in silence, and had gone on to point out +Jubellius Taurea, Pacuvius Calavius, and his son, Perolla—the only +Campanians present besides the hosts of the occasion. When the +category was completed, however, she called the maid's attention to the +omission. +</P> + +<P> +"He?" said the latter, lightly; "the man in the violet tunic? He is +nothing—a priest of one of their gods whom they call Melkarth." +</P> + +<P> +He was a tall, gaunt man, and he stood directly behind Hannibal, and +kept his eyes fixed upon the pavement, as if studying the intricacies +of its mosaic pattern. +</P> + +<P> +Silenus, the Greek rhetor, made the last of the group. +</P> + +<P> +And now, at a signal from the hosts, the company turned and followed +them in single file toward the rear of the house. +</P> + +<P> +"They will send for you when they have reclined," said the attendant, +in answer to a glance of inquiry from Marcia; and, a moment later, the +summons came. +</P> + +<P> +Walls, floors, ceilings, every part of the house through which they +passed, seemed covered with roses clustered, festooned, and superlaid. +Suddenly they found themselves at the entrance of the great banquet +hall, where two triclinia were set facing each other, with room for the +servants to pass between and minister to the wants of the feasters. +</P> + +<P> +At the table to the east—that of honour—reclined Stenius Ninius, in +the middle place of the middle couch, with Hannibal himself at his +right, the place of honour above all. Marcia was led to the head of +the lowest couch, next to the Carthaginian leader, where she found +Pacuvius Calavius reclining below her, as the phrase went; while on the +couch directly opposite lay the priest of Melkarth in the lowest place, +and Perolla in the highest. The other places, below Pacuvius, between +Stenius and the priest, and between the priest and Perolla, were +assigned to the women, while the other table, over which Pacuvius +Ninius presided, was arranged in similar fashion. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0205"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +V. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE BANQUET. +</H3> + + +<P> +Marcia had felt an instinctive shrinking when she saw that the women, +also, were to recline, after the manner of the dissolute Greeks, +instead of sitting, as she had been taught to consider the only decent +posture for a Roman maid or matron. Then the thought of her mission +brought the blush surging to her cheeks, whence it receded, leaving +them pale with a sterner resolve. Was not love of country the greatest +virtue? It was time to school herself, to shrink at nothing in that +cause. As she took her place, she noticed that the priest of Melkarth, +who lay directly opposite, had been regarding her fixedly. +</P> + +<P> +She could see his face now, and it was not a pleasing one. The Semitic +features, fine and noble in their best form, but capable of greater +depths of degeneration than those of any other type, were in his case +exaggerated to an extreme degree of coarseness. The mouth was large +and badly formed, the forehead low, the small eyes peered out snakelike +from under heavy, puffy lids. The nose alone was cut with any measure +of fineness, and that projected, wide-nostrilled, and aquiline as the +beak of a bird of prey. It would have been difficult to imagine a face +more gross and sensual in its lines, and the look of low admiration and +eagerness which it now wore, was well calculated to bring out the +sensuality in its most repulsive form. Marcia felt her cheeks burning +under the fixedness of the man's gaze, and, looking down, she struggled +to compose herself by a close study of the gorgeous coverlid of the +couch,—a fine Campanian texture, dyed scarlet, and heavily embroidered +with figures of birds and beasts and flowers, worked into an elaborate +design. +</P> + +<P> +Even then, his eyes seemed to burn through her hair, through her brain, +down into her heart, and she found her will revolting more violently +than ever against the possibilities involved in her mission. +</P> + +<P> +The voice of Hannibal, addressing some conventional compliment to +Stenius upon the perfection of the arrangements, came as an intense +relief, for the others all turned toward the speaker, and, a moment +later, the slaves passed around with silver basins and ewers, pouring +scented water upon the hands of the guests and drying them with dainty +flickings of filmy napkins. Vessels of gold and silver and fine +earthenware burdened the tables, while at each end of the garden stood +a butler in charge of several large amphorae. Those at the north end +were half buried amid imitation mountains, peaked with real snow +wherewith the wine was to be cooled, while those at the south were +surrounded by more than tropical verdure, with the braziers and vessels +of hot water beside them, ready for mixing the warm draughts. +</P> + +<P> +And now the slaves hurried hither and thither, bearing costly dishes +with elaborately dressed viands: dormice strewed with honey and poppy +seeds; beccaficoes surrounded by yolks of eggs, seasoned with pepper +and made to resemble peafowls' eggs in a nest whereon the stuffed bird +was sitting; fish floating in rich gravies that spouted from the mouths +of four tritons at the corners of the dish; crammed fowls, hares fitted +with wings to resemble Pegasus, thrushes in pastry stuffed with raisins +and nuts, oysters, scallops, snails on silver gridirons, boar stuffed +with fieldfares, with baskets of figs and dates hanging from his tusks, +sweetmeats, cold tarts with Spanish honey—these and a hundred other +dishes, strange or costly, followed each other in quick succession, +and, all the while, the carvers flourished their knives in time with +music, now of instruments, again of choruses of boys and girls. The +butlers, too, had not been idle, and the cups were constantly +replenished, first with the warm and, later, with the cold mixtures. +</P> + +<P> +Yet, though both men and women ate greedily and drank deeply, a gloom +seemed to hang over the feast. The Carthaginians, whether influenced +by native dignity or by a real or simulated contempt for their hosts, +were reserved and silent, while the Capuans seemed, at one moment, +forcing themselves into strained merriment, and, at another, cowering +before the cold eyes that watched their efforts with scarcely veiled +indifference. With fear on the one side and distrust upon the other, +the chances for hilarity and good fellowship looked scanty enough, and +yet Stenius Ninius was too much a man of the world to yield readily to +untoward social conditions. +</P> + +<P> +Clapping his hands, he cried out, as the head butler bowed before him:— +</P> + +<P> +"Now, my good Cappadox, let us have no more of these native vintages. +Good though they were, they but serve to cultivate the taste for the +wines that cement friendships such as ours. Henceforth pour for us +only the Coan, Leucadian, and Thasian, and see that you select those +amphorae whose contents are toothless with age." +</P> + +<P> +A rough laugh rolled up from the other table, and the voice of +Hannibal-the-Fighter broke out with:— +</P> + +<P> +"It is well said, host. Truly I was wondering if we had been drinking +from the famous cellars of Capua. We washed our horses with better +wine in the north." +</P> + +<P> +Stenius flushed. Then he smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"And, Cappadox," he went on, in an unruffled voice, "do you send what +remains in my cellar of the vintages we have been drinking, to the +horse of my worthy guest." +</P> + +<P> +At the giant's discourteous words, Hannibal himself had started from +the mood of thought in which he had seemed well-nigh buried. A quick +glance shot from his eye, and his brow furrowed. Then the courtly +answer of Stenius relieved the situation, and he turned to his host. +</P> + +<P> +"You must pardon rough words to rough soldiers, my friend. We of +Carthage have had but slender chances to avail ourselves of Greek +culture and urbanity. We are mere merchants and warriors—not men of +letters or of social manners." +</P> + +<P> +The hulking savage grew purple and trembled under the rebuke of his +chief. Twice he essayed to speak and then discreetly gulped down the +words, for Hannibal's face, though calm and courtly, showed a hardening +of its lines which meant much to those who knew him. +</P> + +<P> +As for the Campanian, he raised his hands in voluble deprecation of the +apology. +</P> + +<P> +Did <I>he</I> not realize that but for soldiers and merchants, letters and +social manners would never have come into being? It was the privilege +of so brave a warrior as Hannibal-the-Fighter to say what he pleased, +and when and where. Ordinary rules were only for little men. Besides, +the best of Campanian wines were truly all too poor for heroes whose +souls were already attasted to the nectar of the gods. +</P> + +<P> +The suppressed fury and shame of the offender melted away under the +balm of these honeyed words, and, laughing loudly but with some +constraint, he tossed off to his host a cup of the wine last brought. +</P> + +<P> +And now Hannibal seemed to shake himself loose from the bonds of +silence and thought, though his conversation still showed the trend of +his mind. He turned to Calavius. +</P> + +<P> +"Thirty thousand foot and four thousand horse form an excellent array, +and yet I should imagine that the second city in Italy could do even +better—in case of need." +</P> + +<P> +The attention of hosts and guests became tense at once, though Marcia +could note that the motives were diverse. +</P> + +<P> +Calavius seemed nervous and flustered. +</P> + +<P> +"There was a time when that was undoubtedly so, my Lord," he said +hastily; "but, now, many of our young men have fallen in the wars, and +many are serving with the enemy, unable to escape and doubtless in +serious danger—" +</P> + +<P> +"Three hundred horsemen," interrupted Hannibal, dryly, "and my spies +inform me that they are likely to continue serving Rome—by choice, as +would doubtless many of your well-born at home—like this fellow, +Magius," and his brow darkened ominously. +</P> + +<P> +The Campanians moved uneasily on the couches. +</P> + +<P> +"Magius is a traitor and will be dealt with in due season," said +Stenius. "It is friends and festivities first with us, and enemies and +punishments later." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Magius shall be dealt with," echoed Hannibal; but the +acquiescence brought no relief to his hearers. Why should he feel it +necessary to supplement their assurance so significantly? Did not the +treaty between Carthage and Capua provide that Capuan laws and +magistrates should still govern all Capuans? Why should he speak so +markedly of their military power? Did not the treaty expressly state +that no Capuan was to be called upon for military duty except by his +own rulers? +</P> + +<P> +Calavius had been signalling vigorously to his son, Perolla, who had +reclined silent and gloomy, but who now seemed about to speak. +Disregarding his father's warning, the young man broke in:— +</P> + +<P> +"It is idle to deny that the Campanian horse serve willingly with Rome +and will continue so to serve. As for Decius Magius, there are many +good men here who hold with him, but who lack his boldness." +</P> + +<P> +For an instant every one held his breath in terror of the coming +outburst, but those whose angry or frightened eyes first ventured to +glance toward the captain-general saw his face wreathed in smiles, and +his wine cup raised toward the daring speaker. +</P> + +<P> +"Happiness to you, flower of Campanian youth! and know that there are +two things that Hannibal prizes most among men: a friend who was once +an enemy, and a friend who dares to speak the truth." +</P> + +<P> +Calavius had recovered his composure during this speech. +</P> + +<P> +"I would not have you imagine, my Lord," he began, "but that my son +speaks as he believes and in order that you may have full information; +yet, he is ill to-day in body and mind, and, even were it not so, I am +older than he and know more of men. That Decius Magius has +sympathizers, it is vain to deny; but that they are many or +influential, I, who know the Capuans, aver is not the case. As for our +horsemen, it is easy to see that their safety demands an apparent +friendship for Rome. It is not wise for three hundred to revile thirty +thousand." +</P> + +<P> +Hannibal had continued to keep his gaze upon Perolla, scarcely +listening to his father's words. In the young man's face something of +surprise had mingled with his half-defiant, half-moody expression. +</P> + +<P> +"I do not ask of you, my son," pursued the general, "that you whose +heart was but lately with our enemies, should love and trust us at +once. That were the part of a hypocrite, and I honour you, both for +the filial piety that threw down your preference before your father's +will, and for the slowness with which your heart follows your act. +Grant me but this: that you judge us fairly by our deeds, and if we +prove not better friends than Rome, return to them in peace and safety. +Meanwhile there is a horse with crimson mane and feet that shall be led +from my stable to yours in the morning. Ride him, and remember that +Hannibal honours courage, filial obedience, and truth—all in like +measure." +</P> + +<P> +Subdued applause from both tables followed these words, but the face of +Perolla lost but little of its stubborn hostility. Hannibal turned +away, and Calavius and Ninius sought to cover by eager talking the +young man's ungracious reception of such signal favour. The faces of +the Carthaginians remained for the most part impassive; only their dark +eyes seemed to sparkle, either with wine or suppressed passion. Marcia +still felt that one pair was trying to look through her, and she was +conscious that Silenus, the Sicilian Greek, was making eager and +indecorous love to one of the women at the other table. Another of the +latter had just ventured on some light badinage with the chief guest, +in whose face smiles had chased away all the abstraction of the earlier +hours. He answered her as lightly, but with indifference, and turned +to Marcia. +</P> + +<P> +"And what says our Roman beauty?" he asked. "She has come boldly and +far to see her enemies. Who knows but she has a boon to beg." +</P> + +<P> +Again Marcia noted disturbance under Calavius' smile. He was wondering +at the general's knowledge. Then he realized that Mago's report must +be its basis, and his face cleared. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, truly, I <I>have</I> a boon to ask," replied Marcia, fixing her great +eyes upon the bearded front, stern through its smiles. "It is that you +will spare one house in Italy from ravage and destruction." +</P> + +<P> +"And where may this house be?" he asked in bantering tones. "We shall +leave many standing, but this one most surely of all." +</P> + +<P> +"It is upon the brow of the Palatine Hill—" she began, and then a +burst of applause gave notice that the compliment had struck home. "It +is my father's," she concluded, blushing. +</P> + +<P> +Calavius was in ecstasy over the graceful tact of his protégé. No +Capuan or Greek could have done better. Hannibal eyed her with a +curious expression, half admiring, half doubtful. +</P> + +<P> +"I grant the boon—freely," he said. Then, fixing her with his gaze, +he went on, "And when will you claim it?" +</P> + +<P> +"The son of Hamilcar knows best," replied Marcia, casting down her +eyes, and again she felt the approval of her host and his friends. +</P> + +<P> +That Hannibal was pleased and flattered was evident, and yet there was +a certain reserve in his manner. Possibly he suspected that she wished +to provoke an announcement of his plans; perhaps an even deeper insight +led him near to a fuller conception of her purpose. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, it is truly for us to say," he said loudly, glancing around the +board; then, turning quickly to Marcia: "I understand that you +counselled delay until spring to my brother, Mago. Why?" +</P> + +<P> +So frank a question, so different from all that had been told of the +more than Oriental craft of the Carthaginians, and one that went so +straight to the motive of her presence, threw Marcia into some +confusion. Calavius noticed it, and, fearing lest she might say +something to do away with the impression of her former tact, he came to +the rescue. +</P> + +<P> +"Surely we shall not insult my Lord Bacchus by a council of war in his +presence?" but Hannibal waved his hand toward him and looked fixedly at +Marcia. +</P> + +<P> +"Goddesses may speak on all subjects, at all times; and the gods smile." +</P> + +<P> +"That my words," she began, with eyes still cast down, "were deemed +worthy to be borne to my Lord, is too much honour. That he should deem +them worthy of thought, is beyond the dream of mere woman." Then, +glancing up and smiling wistfully into his face, she went on: "Know, +that whatever of judgment born of knowledge of the place and the men +has come to me, a girl,—that and more is for the service of the great +general of Carthage,—the benignant liberator of Italy." +</P> + +<P> +"Why do you advise delay?" asked Hannibal again, and the eyes of +Maharbal glittered, as he leaned over from the other table. "There are +those who say I have delayed too long already." +</P> + +<P> +"For this," replied Marcia, boldly; "that you may save your soldiers +and your allies; that they may lie in rest and luxury, and that, ere +springtime, the cities of the Latin Name, yes, truly, and the very +rabble of Rome, shall come to you on their knees for leave to bear the +horseheads along the Sacred Way, up the Capitoline slope—" +</P> + +<P> +"If in the spring, why not now?" +</P> + +<P> +Maharbal and Hannibal-the-Fighter made a clucking sound of assent; +Hasdrubal and the other guests seemed indifferent, but the Capuans were +hanging on Marcia's words. +</P> + +<P> +"Because the time is not ripe—" she began. +</P> + +<P> +"Words!" cried her questioner, cutting off her speech; "I asked, <I>why</I>?" +</P> + +<P> +Frightened at his vehemence, but put to it of necessity, she answered:— +</P> + +<P> +"Because there are strifes and bickerings—at Rome—throughout the +Latin Name—that must soon bear fruit of civil strife. The nobles +grind and hold to their privileges; the commons serve and starve and +look to Carthage for aid. How shall these things grow better, while +you hold the garden of Italy—while the Greeks of the south and the +Samnites and the men of the soil gather behind you on one side, and the +Gauls and Etruscans muster in the north? The water is eating at the +mole; soon the waves will lash up and sweep it from its foundations." +</P> + +<P> +Hannibal eyed her closely for a moment. Then he said: "There are those +at Rome and among the Latin Name who tell me otherwise. They are good +men, and they know. Perhaps I have been even too cautious. You are +young and beautiful. Hold fast to matters suited to youth and beauty, +and leave the conduct of wars and statecraft to men." Turning to +Stenius, he went on, "If this Leucadian wine of yours, my Stenius, were +let into the veins of those who lie dead at Cannae, they would be fit +to rise and do battle again." +</P> + +<P> +Stenius bowed and smiled; Marcia grew red and then pale with shame and +vexation, seeing how her plots were like to fall and crush her; but, at +this moment, the voice of Hannibal-the-Fighter rose from the other +table. Flushed with wine, he was boasting of his slain. "Four at +Trebia," he cried out, "seven at Trasimenus, eighteen at Cannae—but +all men. It is better to slay the wolves' whelps, if only to teach +women that it is no longer wise to bring forth Romans. I—I who speak +have already killed eleven boys—ah! but you must wait till we enter +Rome. Then will be the day when they shall build new cities in Hades!" +</P> + +<P> +The Carthaginians heard him with indifference; the Capuans, all save +Perolla, applauded nervously; and Marcia grew sick at heart and mad +with a rage that could almost have strangled the giant as he reclined. +</P> + +<P> +"And now," began Ninius, mildly, when there was a moment's silence, +"that we may the better enjoy what is to come, there are baths and +attendants; and the red feather will make way for new feastings at the +end of two hours." +</P> + +<P> +Slaves had run in to assist the diners from their couches; the Capuans, +with dreams of relief, refreshment, and re-repletion; the +Carthaginians, bored, but striving to be polite and to follow the +customs of their entertainers. Even Hannibal, while his smile was half +a frown, permitted himself to be led away. +</P> + +<P> +Filled with disgust and despair, Marcia felt herself all unfit to begin +a new revel—one that was to be made possible by loathsome practices, +as yet unknown at Rome, and which bade fair to end in aimless and +hideous debauchery. The women were but warming to their part, when the +summons of Stenius Ninius had proclaimed a truce with Bacchus and +Venus—a truce with promise of more deadly battle to be joined. She +had seen glances hot with wine and lust, claspings of hands, loosened +cyclas, and more lascivious reclinings. The gloomy Perolla had yielded +a little to the soft influences, and even Hannibal seemed to force +himself to toying, if only in the name of courtesy; while, through it +all, and more and more as the light of day advanced, Marcia felt the +eyes of Iddilcar, priest of Melkarth, burning into her soul. He at +least gave no heed to nearer blandishments, and terror and loathing +filled her in equal measure. +</P> + +<P> +A faintness—a sudden weakness born of her recent journey—served for +excuse, which Calavius seemed not unwilling to voice, and, surrounded +by a guard of slaves, her litter bore her back to his house, through +streets littered with drunken men and fluctuant with the figured robes +of courtesans. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0206"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VI. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ALLIES. +</H3> + + +<P> +Night had come again, before Marcia could arouse herself from the deep +sleep with which exhaustion of mind and body had overwhelmed her. She +remembered the scenes of the banquet as the phantasms of a +dream—strange and terrible; for her thoughts were slow to gather the +threads and weave the woof. Only a feeling of failure, of fruitless +abasement, was ever present. Hannibal had admired her, but, proof +against any controlling attraction, he had put her words aside with +little short of contempt. A dread, even, lest the strange acumen of +this wonderful man had pierced her mask, and that her very motive and +mission were already suspected, was not lacking to add dismay to +discouragement. Such thoughts were but wretched company, and they +brought with them a vague conception of her own vain egotism in +imagining the possibility of other outcome. She tried to sleep again, +but could not. What mattered it though, by some shifting of hours, her +day had become night and her night day! She must arise and talk with +some one, if it were only the host whom she so heartily despised. +</P> + +<P> +Attendants entered at her summons, and the refreshment of the bath and +the labour of the toilet were once more passed through. Then, +dismissing the slaves, she walked out alone into the garden and sat +down on a softly cushioned seat of carved marble. A fountain plashed +soothingly in the foliage near by, the stars were shining again, while, +from without, the jarring sounds of the city came to her ears. +</P> + +<P> +How long she sat, awake yet thinking of nothing, dull and dazed, she +could not tell. Then she was aroused by a sandalled step upon the +pavement. A man was standing before her, whose face, despite its +youthful contours, was deep-lined and melancholy. He was short of +stature and slenderly though gracefully built, and his black curls +clustered over brow and eyes that seemed rather those of a poet or a +dreamer than of a man of action. In the sombre, dark blue garments of +mourning, without ornaments or jewels, so different from the gay +banqueting robes in which she had last seen him, Marcia gazed a moment, +before she recognized Perolla, the son of Pacuvius. +</P> + +<P> +"You are not pretty to-night, Scylla," he said tauntingly, "though you +left us early. There are dark circles under the eyes that looked +kindly at the enemy of your country." +</P> + +<P> +Marcia flushed crimson, and he went on: "Yes; I watched you smiling and +ogling, but it will take greater traitors than you to snare him. He is +like Minos, in that he did not reach out to take from your hands the +purple lock shorn from your father's head: he is not like him +otherwise: he is not just, and he will not give honourable terms." +</P> + +<P> +"You, at least, are faithful to Rome?" said Marcia, slowly, and +ignoring his insults. +</P> + +<P> +"Can you ask?" he answered; "is it that you wish to betray me? Well, +then, know truly that I have betrayed myself to your heart's content. +Do you not see the mourning garments I wear for my city's faithlessness +and for her coming ruin? Have you not heard how my father dragged me +from the side of Decius Magius in the market place that I might attend +the banquet?—ah! but you have not heard how I had planned to startle +them all." +</P> + +<P> +Marcia began to wonder whether she was talking with a madman. +</P> + +<P> +"Shall I tell?" +</P> + +<P> +She made a sign of assent. +</P> + +<P> +"It was toward evening—they have but just risen from the tables now. +Then, it was to seek the red feathers for the third time; but I led my +father back among the rose bushes and showed him a sword which I had +girt to my side, beneath my tunic. 'This,' said I, 'shall win us +pardon from Rome. Look you, when we return, I will plunge it into the +Carthaginian's breast.'" +</P> + +<P> +Marcia bent forward eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"And then," he went on, "my father bound my arms to my sides, with his +own around me, and wept and talked of our recent pledges to these +foreigners. 'Can they outweigh our ancient pledges to Rome?' I +answered. So he pleaded how the attendants would surely cut me down, +and mentioned Hannibal's look, which he affirmed I would not be able to +confront; but I laughed and made little of these things. Then he spoke +of the hospitable board, which I admitted had something of reason; and, +finally, when he had declared that the sword must reach Hannibal only +through his own breast, then, at last, from filial duty, mark you, I +threw the weapon from me, telling him that he had betrayed his country +thrice: in revolting from Rome, in allying with foreigners, and, now, +in turning aside the instrument of escape. Then we returned to the +banquet, but my father trembled, and ate and drank no more. There, +now, is a story to tell your city's destroyer. If you betray me, +perhaps he may yet love you." +</P> + +<P> +Marcia viewed him sternly. +</P> + +<P> +"Truly your father was right, when he said you were ill in mind." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, ill in mind and in heart." +</P> + +<P> +"How, then, do you not recognize one whose heart is sicker than your +own?" +</P> + +<P> +Perolla looked at her inquiringly, and she went on:— +</P> + +<P> +"You have a city that has been false to itself, and is in danger of +punishment—a father, too, if you will. <I>My</I> city has already suffered +every evil but destruction: my brother and he to whom Juno was about to +lead me have been killed by these pulse-eaters. Are such things the +benefits that go to make friendship and love for the slayers? Say, +rather, hate and the craving for revenge." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Perolla, moodily; "they are indeed evils, but less than +mine, in that they are passed—" +</P> + +<P> +"And is Rome safe, do you think?" she asked quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"Rome will conquer," he said doggedly, "unless there be many more +traitors like you." +</P> + +<P> +"Fool!" she cried, grasping his wrist. "Can you not see—you who claim +to be a philosopher and to have Greek blood?—you, at least, should +have understood my words." +</P> + +<P> +He gazed at her vacantly, and she began to regret her vehemence. It +came to her mind that this was not altogether a safe man to trust with +her secret. Faithful he was, no doubt; but a fool might be even more +dangerous than a traitor. Still, she had said too much to be silent, +and she felt the need of some ally to whom she could talk—upon whom +she could at least pretend to lean when the weight of her burden was +heaviest. +</P> + +<P> +"I have told you what I have lost—what I dread to lose. Now learn +what I am here to gain. For many days after the black news of Cannae, +I heard them talking in my father's house—talking of the advance of +the insolent victors and of the paltry defence we could oppose, the +certain destruction that awaited us. Still they were brave—old men +and boys. The soldiers were dead, but we set to work training +new—shaping them alike out of youth and age and bondmen; and the +slayers of our citizens delayed, and we gained strength and courage. +In every temple of the twelve gods it was the same prayer by day and +night: 'Grant us delay. Grant us that the winter may find him in the +south!' At last came the news that he was advancing to Capua, and +rumours of a Carthaginian party in the city. From Capua, seized with +all its engines of war, was but a few days to Rome. Then I took a +resolve and made a vow: tell me, am I beautiful?" +</P> + +<P> +"Beautiful as Venus." +</P> + +<P> +"Know, then, that I have dedicated this beauty to her, that she may +guard Rome and avenge me upon Rome's enemies." +</P> + +<P> +He shook his head stupidly. +</P> + +<P> +"Minerva does not favour me, lady," he replied; "for I do not +understand your words." +</P> + +<P> +"Listen!" she went on, with the earnestness of desperation, "He shall +<I>love</I> me—he or one who can sway him—and they shall play the laggards +here, until the winter gives us time—and time brings safety." +</P> + +<P> +He understood her now, but still he shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"If you speak truth," he said slowly, "you speak foolishness as well. +Hannibal will love no mistress but Carthage, and there is no man living +who shall sway him by a hair's breadth. <I>Now</I> I see why you spoke to +him of plots at Rome and of the wisdom of delay. Ah! a woman to make +game of <I>him</I>!" and he threw back his head and laughed. "Do you +imagine he has not divined your plot? Give him your beauty if you +will. He will take it, doubtless, if he have time, and march north +forthwith, after you have confessed your little plottings beneath the +hot tweezers. Only one thing shall stay him—steel,—and in the hands +of man—not blandishments in the mouth of a girl." +</P> + +<P> +Marcia was in despair. +</P> + +<P> +"And is there no help," she cried, "for me, a Roman woman, from you, a +friend of Rome? Surely we shall be stronger together, even if our +plots are different. Two plans are better than one." +</P> + +<P> +Before he could frame his answer they heard footsteps coming toward +them, and then a man, enveloped in the brown cloak of a slave, pushed +aside the foliage and glided out into the moonlight. Perolla, wheeling +about, had half drawn his sword, while Marcia shrunk back into the +shadow. +</P> + +<P> +"Put up your sword, my Perolla," said the newcomer, speaking in low +tones and throwing aside his mantle. +</P> + +<P> +"Decius Magius, by all the gods!" cried the young man; "but why are you +disguised?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because, my friend," said Magius, slowly "Capua is no longer free; +because spies of the Carthaginian and of our senate are watching my +house, making ready to seize me. Decius Magius can no longer walk in +his own city, clad in his own gown, and to-morrow, doubtless, he cannot +walk at all. Therefore I wish to speak with you, and I have put on +this disguise in order that I might gain your house unobserved, and +that your father might not die of fright, learning me to be here." +</P> + +<P> +"But how did you enter? how find me?" +</P> + +<P> +"I entered, my Perolla, because your porter, like every slave in Capua, +is drunk to-night, and because the boy whom he left to keep the gate +was only enough awake to mumble that you were in the garden." +</P> + +<P> +Perolla frowned. Then, suddenly, he remembered Marcia, concerning whom +his suspicions were not yet entirely removed, and he raised his hand in +warning. +</P> + +<P> +"There is a woman here—a Roman woman, who tells a strange story," he +whispered. "It is better to be discreet." +</P> + +<P> +"The time for discretion is past for Decius Magius," said the other, +wearily. "Let him at least speak freely upon his last night of +freedom." +</P> + +<P> +Marcia came forward. +</P> + +<P> +"Is it permitted a Roman maid to honour a Campanian who is true to his +city's faith?" +</P> + +<P> +"Assuredly, daughter," replied Magius, quietly. She could not see his +face except that it was stern and gray-bearded; but, kneeling down +beside him, she took his hand and poured out the story of her life, her +sorrow, her resolve, and its prosecution. Here, at least, was a man +upon whose faith and judgment she could rely, and his manner grew more +gentle as she made an end of speaking. +</P> + +<P> +"So you doubted her truth, my Perolla," he said softly. "That is +because you have not felt her hand tremble, and because you are too +young and too much of a philosopher to judge of the honesty of a +woman's face. The same instinct that tells me, doubtless warned +Hannibal also that this was not a courtesan, much less an immodest +woman well born, and, least of all, a coward who would flee her city, +or a traitress who would betray it. You will know more of such things, +my Perolla, when you learn to study them less." Then, turning to +Marcia, he went on: "What you have designed, my daughter, is noble and +worthy of your race—and yet, while I commend, I am slow to encourage. +Are you strong to carry your sacrifice to the uttermost?" +</P> + +<P> +Marcia shuddered. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, if there be need," she said, in a low voice; "I look to no +marriage now. Is not the Republic worthy of our best?" +</P> + +<P> +"It is a hard thing," he said, doubtfully, "for a woman well born and +modest to belong to a man she hates." +</P> + +<P> +"But it is easy to die, my father, as died Lucretia." +</P> + +<P> +Decius Magius looked at her. Several times his lips moved as if about +to speak, and, once, he turned away sharply for a moment, as if to gaze +up into the night. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me, my father," she said earnestly, "do you give me no hope? Is +not my beauty worth the purchase of a few paltry months? And then +comes the winter, bringing safety." +</P> + +<P> +Still Magius said nothing for several minutes, and when he spoke, it +was in harsh, quick tones. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, it is all possible, as you say it." +</P> + +<P> +"Hannibal to surrender his plans for a woman?" cried Perolla, +scornfully. "Surely, my Decius, you jest. Do you not know him—that +only the gods can turn him from his purpose?" +</P> + +<P> +Marcia had wheeled about with flashing eyes and faced the last speaker. +</P> + +<P> +"You have shown me the way," she cried. "It is the gods who <I>shall</I> +delay him." +</P> + +<P> +Perolla gazed at her in astonishment, as at one gone mad, but Magius +nodded and frowned. +</P> + +<P> +"It is the best chance," he said slowly, "the only one." +</P> + +<P> +"Still Minerva does not favour me," said Perolla, shaking his head; but +Marcia went on in a high, nervous voice and with a gayety that made the +older man draw his cloak up to his face in pity:— +</P> + +<P> +"Come, my philosopher, you are indeed stupid to-night. If you did not +observe it at the house of the Ninii, you should have heard me just now +when I told the story of the banquet to my lord Decius. It is +Iddilcar, the priest of Melkarth, who shall bring his god to be my +ally—Rome's ally: Iddilcar, who could not so much as take his eyes +from me, through all their feasting. There is the man who will prefer +my beauty, even to his god's favour; and surely your Hannibal will not +wage war against the auspices." +</P> + +<P> +The face of Magius was still shaded by his cloak, and he said nothing; +but over the features of the younger man came strange expressions: +first amazement, then horror, then a look which had something of horror +but more of yearning. He held out his hands in supplication. +</P> + +<P> +"No—no," he cried. "You shall not do it. You are too beautiful. +First I hated you, when I dreamed you to be but a courtesan traitress. +Now—now—O gods favour me! Listen! you shall not do it. It is I who +will kill him—yes, and you also first," and, turning suddenly away, he +staggered. Then, as Magius raised his hand to support him, he shook +himself free and ran furiously into the house. +</P> + +<P> +Marcia turned to Magius in astonishment, and he smiled sadly. +</P> + +<P> +"Even philosophers are not proof," he said; "and you are very +beautiful—and he is young—and half a Greek." She blushed, and the +grim senator took her hand. "May the gods grant, my daughter, that +your sacrifice be not for nothing. You have spoken wisdom; but he—he +is a madman. As for me, I am as one who is dead. Farewell." +</P> + +<P> +He dropped her hand, and she felt, rather than heard or saw him go; +only her voice would not obey her when she strove to detain him, if but +for a moment: the only man in Capua whom she could honour—upon whom +she could rely. Surely he would not desert her thus?—yes, truly, he +was <I>gone</I>. +</P> + +<P> +Then she ran several steps in the direction he had taken, and called, +though she dared not call his name, until a female attendant came +hurrying to answer her. +</P> + +<P> +"My lord, Perolla," said the girl, "had but just rushed out into the +street, as if possessed of a daimon. As for a strange slave, she had +observed no one; but if such there was, doubtless he had slipped by the +porter's boy—who was worthless." +</P> + +<P> +Marcia groped her way to her sleeping apartment, harshly brushing aside +an offer of aid. Once alone, she threw herself down upon the couch and +burst into a torrent of moans and sobs. +</P> + +<P> +The girl, who had followed hesitatingly, listened in the hallway, +nodding her head with conscious satisfaction. "And so the Roman women +loved, for all they were said to be so grand and stern. What a fool +this one was, though, to prefer the son to the father, who was much +richer, and who, being old, would doubtless realize the necessity of +being more generous." +</P> + +<P> +And she went back to the slaves' apartments, laughing softly to herself. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0207"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VII. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +"FREEDOM." +</H3> + + +<P> +The morning air of the Seplasia reeked with perfumes, more, even, than +was its wont; for Carthaginian and Capuan revellers had been carousing +there, and several of the shops had been broken open. The gutters +streamed wine with which were mingled all the essences of India and +Asia. Flowers, withered and soaked with coarser odours than their own, +floated on the pools and drifted down the rivulets. Inert bodies, +drunk to repletion, lay scattered about, helpless, unable to drink +consciously, but absorbing the wasted liquor through every pore. A +dead citizen, his head crushed in by a single blow, sprawled hideously +in the middle of the street; while his murderer, a gigantic Gaul, was +embracing the corpse with maudlin affection and whispering in its ear +to arise and guide him back to camp. Those who passed, from time to +time, paused to join the soldier's comrades in laughter and rude jests +and suggestions of new methods of awakening his friend. +</P> + +<P> +And now, down the street, extending from wall to wall, came a line of +young men, their faces flushed, their garments disordered or cast +aside, and their brows crowned with what had once been chaplets of +roses. Three or four courtesans, with gowns and tunics torn from their +white shoulders, were being dragged along, half laughing, half +resisting, and wholly possessed by Bacchic frenzy. +</P> + +<P> +In front of the company marched a slender youth with dark, curling hair +and delicate features. In his hand was a thyrsis, and his eyes blazed +with the madness of the wine. +</P> + +<P> +"Evoe! evoe!" he shouted. "Comrades! Bacchantes! there is no water in +Capua to mix with wine. Equal mixture for poets and fools; undiluted +wine for victors and lovers!" +</P> + +<P> +"Perolla is a good Carthaginian to-day," shouted one of his fellows. +"Behold how Bacchus has answered our prayers! Kiss him, Cluvia, for a +reward." +</P> + +<P> +Pushed forward, the courtesan fell upon the young man's neck, almost +bearing him to the street and overwhelming him with drunken caresses. +A moment later he freed himself from her arms. +</P> + +<P> +"What is Roman beauty to our Capuan?" he hiccoughed. +"Marcia—Cluvia—all are one. All are women, and we are Capuans; +braver than Romans, wiser than Carthaginians. Listen, friends! when my +father rules Italy, you shall all be kings and queens. Evoe! evoe!" +</P> + +<P> +Shouts and shrieks of drunken joy greeted his words. Several sought to +embrace him, and, staggering back, he stumbled over the Gaul and the +dead Capuan where they sprawled in the street. Mingled laughter and +curses rose all around. Blows and kisses were given and received, and +the mad company rolled on through the Seplasia and into the Forum. +</P> + +<P> +Here, too, were intoxication and debauchery, but they were restrained +within some manner of bounds. The fact that grave events were taking +place, seemed to exert a sobering influence on the populace, and they +gathered in a dense throng around the Senate House, whence ominous +rumours pursued each other in quick succession. +</P> + +<P> +"The Senate was in session. Hannibal was before them. Decius Magius +had been arrested at his demand." So ran the talk. +</P> + +<P> +Guards of Carthaginian soldiery were posted at several points, but +especially at all the entrances to the chamber in which the fathers of +the city discussed—or obeyed; and against these lines the waves of the +rabble surged and broke and receded. Men offered the soldiers money +for free passage or news; women offered them kisses for money; and the +soldiers took both and gave nothing but jeers and blows. +</P> + +<P> +Perolla and his drunken company had but just poured out to swell the +tide of this ocean of popular passion, when a commotion of a different +character began at the other end of the Forum. The closed door of the +Senate House swung open, and a man in the garb of a senator, but +chained and shackled, issued forth and stood on the steps, beneath the +porch. Surrounded by a guard of Africans, it was fully a moment, +before the mob recognized Decius Magius, the partisan, of Rome. Then a +chorus of howls and curses rose up. Insults were hurled,—the grossest +that the minds of a licentious rabble could suggest, fists were shaken, +women spat toward the prisoner,—even a few stones were cast, and when +one of these happened to strike an African of the guard, he turned +quietly and cut down the nearest citizen. Then, with their heavy +javelins so held as to be used either as spears or clubs, the soldiers +descended into the Forum, and, with the captive in their midst, began +their progress toward the street and gate that led to the Carthaginian +camp. There was no weak delay in this progress, no requests for +passage; the escort clove through the mass of the people, as a war +galley dashes through the breakers of a turbulent sea. A spray of +human beings that strove to escape but could not, boiled up about the +prow; a wake of bodies, writhing or senseless, fell behind the stern, +while, at either side, the stout javelins rose and fell like the +strokes of oars, splashing up blood for foam. +</P> + +<P> +The taunts and threats that had assailed the prisoner died away amid +shrieks of terror or pain and the deep rumble of the mob. Stupid with +drink, drunk with the exultation of ungoverned power, they wondered +vaguely, as they crushed back, why their new friends should strike, +merely because they,—the Capuan people,—allies of Carthage, strove to +punish a traitor and a common enemy. The prisoner's lips were seen +moving, as his captors hurried him along; but no speech from them could +be heard, until the Forum had been nearly traversed. Then, on the hush +born of surprise and efforts to escape blows, the words of Magius were +audible, at least to those nearest. +</P> + +<P> +He was protesting against this violation of the treaty. He was +speaking of himself; a Capuan, than whom no one was of higher rank, +being dragged in chains to the camp of an ally who had sworn that no +Carthaginian should have power over a citizen of Capua. At the mention +of his rank, malice and envy lent to some of the cowed rabble courage +to jeer once more. Then he had asked, how they expected that an ally +so careless of recently sworn obligations would respect his vow that no +Capuan would be compelled to do military service against his will; +whereupon, some of those who heard looked serious, for this seemed +reasonable, and brought the possibility of evil unpleasantly home to +them. Finally, he congratulated them upon this marvellous, new-found +freedom which the Carthaginian alliance had brought, and which they had +been celebrating so earnestly. +</P> + +<P> +Perolla and his companions had found themselves crushed against the +portico of the temple of Hercules, in which, only the day before, had +been established, also, the worship of the Tyrian Melkarth, out of +compliment to the new alliance. +</P> + +<P> +At first they had realized but little of what was going on before and +around them. They had listened vacantly to crazy rumours of how the +statue of Jupiter in the Senate House had bowed to Hannibal as he +entered, and how the Senate had forthwith saluted him as a god and +declared him the patron and protector of the city; and, again, to other +rumours even more wild of how the wives of all the Capuans had been +decreed to be given to the Carthaginians, in return for which the women +of Rome were to be surrendered to the Capuans by their victorious +allies. +</P> + +<P> +When Decius Magius was led out in custody of the soldiers, Perolla was +trying to think whether, after all, he would not prefer Marcia to +Cluvia. Then followed the passage through the crowded Forum, straight +toward the exit beside the temple of Hercules, and Perolla found +himself within a spear's length of his captive friend, whose words of +protest and warning fell upon his ears like molten lead, and whose +reproachful eyes gazed into his own, piercing through them to his brain +and dissipating the fumes of intoxication as sunlight melts the fog. +Decius had not spoken to him, for he was mindful that such speech might +bring suspicion upon the younger man, but his look had said all that +his tongue refrained from saying, and Perolla realized his degradation +and his shame. +</P> + +<P> +He started forward and cried out:— +</P> + +<P> +"I was mad, my father; <I>mad</I>! do you hear? It was because I knew +suddenly that I loved her, and that she would never love me! and then I +rushed out and met others who were drinking, and we feasted and drank +until I knew nothing. Pardon! pardon!" +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly he became conscious that Decius and his guards were gone. Had +he heard his plea? Surely yes, for did not he, Perolla, now hear his +friend's eyes saying to him that he was but a fool who had added to +folly, philosophy, and to both, weakness, and to all, madness? He +looked around at his companions. Some were gaping at him vacantly, +some were laughing. Cluvia tried to grasp his arm, and he shook her +off and saw her stumble and roll down the steps that led up to the +portico; then a new commotion arose in the direction of the Senate +House, and the attention of the bystanders was diverted. More +Carthaginian soldiers were forming and marching through the mob that +now opened to give passage of double width; and, as the escort came +nearer, Perolla saw Hannibal, clad in the gown of a Capuan senator, +moving calmly in their midst. +</P> + +<P> +A new frenzy came to his brain to take the place of the fumes of wine: +perhaps it was one compounded of that and of shame and horror and +revenge. He groped under his torn tunic and found his dagger; then, +brandishing it, he burst down through the crowd, uttering incoherent +words, and threw himself, like a wild beast, upon the guards. +</P> + +<P> +He had stabbed one through the throat and another in the shoulder, +before he was beaten down by a blow from the staff of a javelin. A +moment later, the first soldier to recover from the surprise of the +incident bent over him with drawn sword. +</P> + +<P> +A sharp exclamation from behind checked the descending thrust, and the +soldier turned quickly. Hannibal stood beside him, with a thoughtful +smile upon his lips. +</P> + +<P> +"Would you kill a citizen of Capua? a man of our allies?" he said +quietly. +</P> + +<P> +The African looked around stupidly. That he should not crush the +Italian vermin forthwith was beyond his comprehension, but evidently +such was not the schalischim's wish. Grumbling, he slipped his sword +slowly back into its sheath, and, at that moment, several of the Capuan +senators in Hannibal's train gathered round him with protestations and +expressions of regret. The general looked at them and frowned. +</P> + +<P> +"I have been with you scarcely two days," he said, "and now you try to +murder me." +</P> + +<P> +The senators fell upon their knees, kissing his gown and hands, in a +frenzy of horror at the thought. +</P> + +<P> +"Who is this fellow?" asked Hannibal, turning Perolla over with his +foot. Then, recognizing the son of Pacuvius Calavius, he went on: +"Some one of no consequence, doubtless; dust of the street that stings +when the wind drives it," and he glared around at the prostrate +senators. +</P> + +<P> +They glanced at the senseless figure, as if hardly daring so much. +Some knew him, more did not; but all united in protesting their +ignorance. +</P> + +<P> +Hannibal viewed them with drooping lids, and the smile returned to his +lips. Perolla stirred slightly. +</P> + +<P> +Again he addressed the Capuans, raising his voice somewhat, so that the +crowd might hear. +</P> + +<P> +"What is your law for the punishment of such a crime?" +</P> + +<P> +Those who had not recognized the assassin, cried out, "Death." Others, +divided between the more powerful enmity of Hannibal and the slower +revenge of Calavius, made their lips move but were silent, hoping to +escape notice in the shout of the others. A few of these were envious +of the young man's father; more feared him. +</P> + +<P> +Hannibal noted their confusion and came to their relief. +</P> + +<P> +"But perhaps so wicked a man is not a Capuan, after all. It is +difficult to believe that the gods would suffer such impiety to lurk in +a city so beloved as yours; and, if no one knows him—" +</P> + +<P> +A chorus of disclaimers snatched at the proffered evasion, and the +smile on Hannibal's lips grew more subtle, as he said:— +</P> + +<P> +"In that case, the treaty does not stand, and you, my fathers, are +relieved from the burden of his trial and punishment. I am still free +to condemn an ally of Rome. Let your rods and axe do their office." +</P> + +<P> +The senators were standing now, and several of them winced and looked +frightened at the swift result of their complaisance. One, even, +gathered courage to say:— +</P> + +<P> +"When is it my lord's will that punishment fall?" +</P> + +<P> +Hannibal eyed him closely for a moment. +</P> + +<P> +"Here, in your forum, and now," he said, "provided you would give +prompt warning to such vermin." +</P> + +<P> +The Capuan shifted uneasily and looked down. Several of the soldiers +had already lifted Perolla to his feet, and, holding him upright, had +torn away what remained of his garments; others sent for the +executioners, and, in a moment, these appeared with the instruments of +their calling. +</P> + +<P> +It was doubtful whether the prisoner had recovered full consciousness +when the first rod fell upon his shoulders, but he groaned and writhed +slightly in the grasp of the four soldiers who held him extended upon +the pavement. +</P> + +<P> +Then Hannibal turned away, ordering one of his officers to remain and +see the end. He signed to the Capuans to follow him. +</P> + +<P> +"Such jackals, my fathers, are not worthy that men of rank and wealth +should watch them die," he said lightly. "The rabble will provide him +with sufficient audience." +</P> + +<P> +And the senators, with awed and thoughtful faces, followed in the train +of the captain-general of Carthage. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0208"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VIII. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +DIPLOMACY. +</H3> + + +<P> +Pacuvius Calavius sat in the atrium of his house. Black robed from +head to foot, with hair and beard untrimmed and uncombed, and face and +hands foul with dirt, he rocked to and fro and groaned. From time to +time he ran his fingers through beard and hair, and uttered the +measured cry of the Greek mourners. +</P> + +<P> +An hour before, one of the senators had stolen furtively in, and, +having hurriedly related the grewsome scene just enacted in the Forum, +had sneaked out again as if he were a spy passing through hostile +lines. None other of the friends of the afflicted father had ventured +to bear or send a message of condolence. It was as if the house of the +once acknowledged leader had been marked for the pestilence—and no +pestilence was more to be shunned than the deadly blight of broken +power. Even the slaves shifted about in embarrassed silence, offered +little service, and obeyed as if conscious that obedience was something +of an indiscretion, and was liable at any moment to become a crime. +Some had slipped away to their quarters, and had begun to discuss the +relative possibilities of freedom, wholesale execution, or a new +master, when the coming blow should fall upon this one. +</P> + +<P> +To Marcia, on the other hand, had been born a feeling of sympathy for +her host, that, for the present, overcame the contempt with which he +had inspired her—a contempt scarcely lessened by the repulsive +ostentation of his mourning. She alone ventured to minister to his +wants and to beg him to partake of food and drink. Perhaps her +attitude was due in a measure to the horror with which she herself had +listened to the morning's news. To be sure, she had not admired the +character of Perolla. It had in it too much of the weakness and +puerility engendered by the bastard Greek culture fashionable in lower +Italy, and which naturally attained its most offensive form in the +towns of Italian origin. Still, he had been faithful to Rome, and +there was something within that told her his madness and ruin were not +entirely disconnected with her own personality. Word, too, had just +been brought her that both Ligurius and Caipor had died of their +injuries. They had seemed on the road to recovery when she visited +them on the previous day, and this sudden misfortune filled her with +new forebodings, mingled with a suspicion too horrible to dwell upon. +As for Decius Magius, she had barely seen him, yet she had felt him to +be one of all others upon whom she could rely—an Italian uncorrupted +by Capuan luxury, a worthy descendant of the rugged Samnite stock, a +Roman in all but name; and now he was snatched away, a prisoner in the +hands of enemies who knew nothing of mercy. Still, he had approved of +her design; had seen in it the possibility of success; and there was at +least a consolation in the thought that, without friends or allies, no +one but herself would now be cognizant of the fulfilment of her +impending degradation. +</P> + +<P> +Another hour had passed; into Marcia's mind had come the calmness of a +fixed resolve. Calavius still moaned and cried out his measured "Aêi! +aêi!" +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly a tumult of noises sounded from the street: the approaching +murmur of a multitude, the footsteps of men, shouts of applause, cries +of wonder or warning, and sharp words of command. +</P> + +<P> +Ah! the end was near, now. Calavius began to imagine himself +stretching out his neck to the sword, and he sought, by proclaiming his +willingness and welcome, to stay the chilling of his blood, the +trembling of his lips and hands. +</P> + +<P> +Staves were beating upon the outer door; the hum of voices in the +street rose and fell and rose again. +</P> + +<P> +"Open the door, Phoenix," mumbled Calavius, as he rocked and swayed. +"Open the door and let them enter. I am an old man. My son is dead. +What matters a few years of life? I pray to the gods that the +barbarians may not hack me. You shall see how easy I will make it—if +they have but a sharp sword." Suddenly he sprang to his feet and +grasped Marcia's arm. "They will not scourge me? Surely they will not +scourge me? I am a senator and the friend of Carthage!—will the door +hold? Hasten, my daughter; run and tell me whether they are guarding +the street in the rear—before the tradesmen's gate." +</P> + +<P> +The beating upon the door still continued, with short intermissions, +and Marcia surmised that the porter was probably skulking in the attic +with his fellow-slaves. Calavius had turned suddenly from the depths +of despair and the height of resignation to a keen desire for life. He +had hurried away to seek for some unguarded exit, heedless, for the +moment, of what even Marcia fully realized: the utter impossibility of +a man so well known escaping unaided through a hostile city and without +a friendly land whereto to turn his flight. He had left her standing +in the court, to be a first prey of the assailants, whether Capuans or +Carthaginians, and she reasoned that it would be better, or at least +quicker, to unbar the door before it should be broken in: she was +wondering, in fact, at the forbearance that had preserved it thus far +from more violent assault. Calavius had been gone some time. +Doubtless he had escaped or, recognizing the uselessness of his +attempt, was hiding somewhere, and, in either event, nothing would be +lost by judicious parleying. +</P> + +<P> +Arranging her robe, she walked slowly through the hall, slid back the +bolts one by one, and let the door swing out into the street; then she +stood, dazed and frightened, for the sight that met her eyes was +Hannibal himself reclining in a litter borne by four Nubians. The +curtains were thrown back, and he was leaning out, evidently giving +some directions to the attendants whose summons had thus far failed to +obtain an answer. Beside the litter stood the priest, Iddilcar, with +folded arms and look bent upon the ground. Around them were ranged a +strong guard of Africans, and, back through the streets, as far as she +could see, the Capuan rabble were thronging forward, curious or +bloodthirsty. +</P> + +<P> +All this was visible in a moment, and then the general, attracted by +the creaking of the door and the exclamation of the crowd, looked up +and saw Marcia standing upon the threshold. +</P> + +<P> +The litter was set down at an imperceptible signal, and he stepped out, +robed in a loose gown of black, entirely without ornaments, and with +hair and beard uncombed and sprinkled lightly with ashes. Marcia +stared in wonder. Surely this could not be the Carthaginian method of +announcing judgment or execution! She caught a flash of subtle +lightning from the eyes of Iddilcar, though these had not seemed to +neglect for a moment their close scrutiny of the pavement. Then +Hannibal stood before her, bowing low and speaking in suppressed +tones:— +</P> + +<P> +"The gods be with you and dwell within this house! I have come to look +upon the face of my father, and, if may be, to console him. Praise be +to Tanis for the omen that you have opened to us, rather than one whose +servile duty it was. So shall our entrance be free and our going +joyful." +</P> + +<P> +He had cast a rapid glance around, as he spoke, and Marcia knew that he +divined why the service of tending the door had been left to her—a +free woman and a guest; yet he was pleased to ignore all inferences, +and to attribute her act to some divine will. His words, too, were +more than friendly, and, if they covered no snare of Punic faith, +augured safety and continued favour. +</P> + +<P> +"I have come," he continued, "that I might mingle my tears with those +of my father who mourns the death of a son." +</P> + +<P> +Marcia stood amazed. Had they not been told how this man had himself +ordered the execution of Perolla? How, then, could even a Carthaginian +show such effrontery! Still, it was necessary to think quickly, and +her woman's wit told her that, in any event, Calavius' best chance of +safety was to seem to accept the visit in the spirit which cloaked it. +So thinking, she led the visitors into the peristyle,—Hannibal, +Iddilcar, and some twenty soldiers who followed as if by previous +orders; while the rest mounted guard before the vestibule. Murmuring +some word of apology, she hurried back through the garden to the +tradesmen's door. +</P> + +<P> +It was still closed and barred, facts which, together with the rumble +of the crowd without, showed that Calavius' plan of escape had proven +impracticable. Then she began a careful search, becoming more +agitated, with each moment, about the difficulty of explaining the +delay. At last she found him, hidden away under a couch in one of the +slaves' apartments, so senseless with terror that several minutes +passed, before he could grasp her tale of Hannibal's presence, and of +the chance of safety it offered. When, however, he understood that +there was yet room for diplomacy,—that the visitors were not mere +executioners with orders to obey,—he drew himself out from his +hiding-place, alert and active. The need of haste, in view of the time +already lost, was apparent; but, nevertheless, he paused in the garden +to wallow a moment in the mould and plunge his hands into its depth. +</P> + +<P> +Marcia saw with disgust, but she led on until they reached the +peristyle; when, slipping aside into one of the cells, she watched the +playing of the game. +</P> + +<P> +Calavius paused a moment at the entrance. Then, groaning deeply to +attract attention, he shambled forward, and, throwing himself at full +length before Hannibal, seized the hem of his robe and pressed it +eagerly to his lips. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, my master!" he cried. "Slay me, slay me at once or with tortures. +Surely that man is not fit to live whose loins have engendered such a +monster of wickedness. Only by death can I hope to expiate my offence +and retain the favour of the gods." +</P> + +<P> +"Rise, my father," said the captain-general, and to Marcia's ears his +voice rang true with sympathy. He reached out his hand to help +Calavius. "Do you not see that I also wear mourning for this +melancholy error?" +</P> + +<P> +"Never shall I rise or face you," cried Calavius, "until you give me +your oath that I shall have your forgiveness before I die. Ah, the +monster! the parricide! who would slay, at one stroke, both him who had +brought him up to better deeds, and him who is indeed the father of his +country. Ah, gods! the shame of it! Give orders, lord, quickly—only +vow first that you forgive me." +</P> + +<P> +Hannibal's tones were low and deep with sorrow, and, by an +imperceptible effort of what must have been prodigious strength, he +raised the unwilling Calavius to his feet. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen, my father," he said. "Have they not told you how I knew not +the young man? He was stained and dishevelled with revellings in +honour of our alliance—in honour of me, unhappy one. Perchance the +Lord Bacchus, whom you worship, willed to have him for his own, for +surely it was he that raised the young man's hand against me. Ah! my +father, did I not know how this son of thine was most beautiful, best, +and bravest of the Capuan youth? Had I not marked him out for signal +honour—only less than yours, my father and his? See, now, how the +gods confuse the affairs of men. It was at the banquet that I learned +his worth, and determined that he should love me and find in me a +friend." +</P> + +<P> +"Truly yes," interrupted Calavius, "and you had won his heart, for, +walking in the garden, he told me as much, only adding that he must +appear to turn to you slowly—for the honour of his name among the +partisans of Rome, whom may the gods confound as they have done." +</P> + +<P> +Hannibal smiled softly, as he took up the words:— +</P> + +<P> +"All this I knew well, being somewhat learned in men, my father; and +now the gods have smitten my brother with madness that he should try to +slay me, and myself with blindness that I should, unknowingly, order +the death of one I loved most. Look, my father, I join you in your +mourning, with black robes and ashes; I come to weep with you at the +feet of Fate—you whose love for me has lost you a son, and to offer +you myself to be a son in his place." +</P> + +<P> +Calavius embraced him, mumbling prayers and vows and endearments in the +sudden joy of escaped death. Iddilcar raised his eyes from the study +of the mosaics and turned aside, shaking as if with some strong +emotion, and Hannibal spoke again. +</P> + +<P> +"One thing more, my father, I would speak to you of, though for my best +interests I should hold my peace nor make dissensions among allies. +There were those with me when this evil happened—men of your Capuan +Senate—who knew this youth better than I, and who I am convinced +suspected the truth; yet they spoke not—" +</P> + +<P> +"Ah!" cried Calavius, "and you have their names writ down for me? We +shall slay them!" +</P> + +<P> +Hannibal's face wore an expression strangely inscrutable as he +answered:— +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, my father, I have their names whom I suspect; and they shall +surely die. Grant it to me, though, that I alone keep them and expiate +my own fault by avenging your wrong. This I swear by Baal-Melkarth and +Baal-Moloch to accomplish at the season best for our plans. Therefore +I tell you the fact, but without names, that you may know that you have +enemies and walk warily, while I, your son, shall, under the gods, be +your reliance for protection and revenge." +</P> + +<P> +Another thought seemed to be struggling for utterance in the bosom of +Calavius—a wish prompted by religion but checked by prudence. Twice +he raised his head as if to speak, and twice his eyes wandered. Then +Hannibal spoke again, as if reading the other's thoughts:— +</P> + +<P> +"I have also, my father, given orders that funeral honours be paid to +my brother; a pyre rich with woven fabrics and wine and oil and spices, +and, from my own share of the Etruscan spoils, I have chosen a vase +boldly pictured with a combat of heroes." +</P> + +<P> +Tears gushed anew from the eyes of Calavius at this added evidence of +thoughtful friendship, and once again he embraced his benefactor, but +with somewhat more of dignity, now that the fear of death was removed. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly Marcia became conscious of an intruding presence beside her, +and, turning, her eyes fell upon the repulsive features of Iddilcar, +that seemed to sneer through the semi-gloom. She shuddered and drew +back against the wall. Iddilcar held out his arms which the broad +sleeves of his robe left bare to elbow. An expression of eager lust +made his face even more hideous than did the sneer of a moment past. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, little bird," he said, "and I will charm you. Moon of Tanis! +Lamp of Proserpine! Essence of all the Heavens! do you not see I love +you?—I, Iddilcar, priest of Melkarth. Behold, my robe is dark. It +mourns—not for the fool who died, but because you have not loved me. +Love, and it will gleam again in violet, and all the bracelets that +hung from my arms at the banquet shall be yours." +</P> + +<P> +She pressed her hands to her face; she felt herself swaying upon her +trembling knees; only the support of the wall saved her from sinking +down. +</P> + +<P> +After a moment's silence he began again:— +</P> + +<P> +"What is an old man, and weak—a sport of foreigners—to me who am +young and strong, and by whose word even the schalischim of Carthage +must march or halt? I, the favoured one of Melkarth, beseech you, a +Roman, for favour, because Adonis wills it. See how I come to you, +unpermitted, from those who cajole each other, and I show you my heart. +Love me! love me! leave this keeper, who is but an old woman, and you +shall be a priestess in Carthage, and the people shall swarm around and +cast their jewels and wealth before you, for the deity—that shall be +you alone; and we shall feast and love and love and feast again in such +splendour as not even Carthage has ever known—" +</P> + +<P> +She could restrain her feelings no longer; all her resolves seemed to +slip from her in the presence of this man; she thrust out her hands and +turned her head away with a shiver of utter disgust. Her movement was +vague in the dim light, but he saw it, and his face darkened. +</P> + +<P> +"What is this house?" he exclaimed harshly. "How long will it stand +against me? Shall I not crush its root, even as its branch was torn +off to-day? Filth! vermin! dust! Shall not its flower lie in my bosom +to bloom forever, if she wills—or to bloom for a moment and wither and +be cast away, if she wills not?" +</P> + +<P> +He strode forward and caught her wrist; his hot breath steamed in her +face. +</P> + +<P> +"No! no! I <I>hate</I> you! Go!" The words sprang from her lips, without +power to hold them back, and she struggled frantically in his grasp; +she heard his teeth grinding, as, mad with passion, he strove to bind +her arms to her sides. At that moment a rattling of weapons from the +peristyle seemed to bring him to a consciousness of his surroundings. +Releasing her, he half turned, and she sank down in the corner of the +cell. The visit was evidently over, and Hannibal, about to take his +leave, was glancing around, evidently in search of the missing priest. +</P> + +<P> +Iddilcar spoke low and rapidly:— +</P> + +<P> +"I will return at once. Wait me till I come, or I will have you given +to a syntagma of Africans." +</P> + +<P> +He was out in the peristyle now, bowing low before the captain-general. +Then he whispered in his ear—probably some explanation of his absence, +of how he had been keeping watch against treachery; for Hannibal nodded +several times, and, again embracing Calavius, accepted his escort to +the door, giving his arm to steady the steps of the older man. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0209"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IX. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE BAIT. +</H3> + + +<P> +Marcia crouched, huddled in the farthest corner of the cell, and +listened to the receding footsteps of the visitors. Then she heard new +sounds echoing through the house: the rushing feet of slaves descending +from their quarters, striving to gain their stations unobserved; the +sharp tongue of Calavius now loosed from the bonds of terror, and +rating them soundly for their unfaithfulness and cowardice; the patter +of excuses and protestations. In a few moments the quarters above +resounded with the shrieks and groans of those condemned to the lash; +for the wrath and indignation of Calavius, generally the mildest of +masters, were spurred to vindictive bitterness by a consciousness of +his late terror and abasement. "They were guilty of all crimes, and, +worst of all, of the rankest ingratitude. Let them learn that their +master was still strong enough to punish." So the scourges fell, and +the victims screamed and writhed. +</P> + +<P> +All these things Marcia heard, but they meant little to a mind so full +of internal conflict as was hers. What was she to believe of herself? +Had she not marked out a course of self-devotion and sacrifice which +was to gain respite and safety for her country, revenge upon its +enemies? Had not others, notably Decius Magius, been forced +unwillingly to admit the possible efficiency of her plan? Yet now, +when the gods had shown her favour beyond all anticipation—had brought +the chosen quarry into her net—she had thrown all aside and yielded to +her womanly weakness, her instinct of modesty, her sense of personal +repulsion. What right had she to think of herself as a woman! He, for +whose love her sex had been dear to her, was gone—a pallid shade who +could no longer be sensitive to her beauty, a vague being sent far +hence into the land of the four rivers by these very men whom she had +devoted to destruction. What though the virtues that had beaten down +her resolves had been good once—good for Marcia the woman? They were +evil for that Marcia who had resolved to be a heroine, and who was now +learning how hard it is for the female to seek the latter crown without +losing the former. Again and again she struggled with herself, swayed +back and forth by the counter-currents of conflicting shames, until the +thought of death, as a final possibility, revived to steel her purpose. +The sacrifice and the shame would be short, and, in the consciousness +of her work accomplished, she could die, going before the lady +Proserpine with a pure heart that need not fear to meet the eyes of +Sergius when they should ask its secret. +</P> + +<P> +Rising quickly, she hastened to her chamber by passages where she would +not be likely to meet her host. Whatever intentions he might have +entertained toward her had been effectually suspended, if not +obliterated, by the course of events, and now he was much too busy +setting in order his demoralized household to think of her presence. +Therefore, she reached her apartment unnoticed, and, summoning her +tirewomen, surrendered herself to the tedious process of adornment +according to the accepted taste of Magna Graecia. +</P> + +<P> +The afternoon was spent, ere all had been finished. Then she ate +hurriedly and with little appetite, drinking deeply of the Lesbian wine +till her cheeks flushed through the rouge, and her eyes sparkled. +Calavius had gone out, busy about affairs of state, and eager to +collect the strained threads of his influence—threads that might be +strengthened by their very straining, in the hands of a politician who +realized how men were ready to grant every complaisance to one whom +they had deserved ill of and whose vengeance they feared. Marcia found +herself wondering whether Iddilcar would indeed return as he had said. +Perhaps her attitude had seemed to him so unfavourable that he would +strike first;—but when and how? Perhaps affairs of state detained him +also. Perhaps, even, this man, Hannibal, whose eye pierced through all +subterfuges, had already divined the danger and set himself to nullify +it. Perhaps—and then, as she was reclining in the larger dining hall, +one of the slaves entered and whispered in her ear. She rose quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell my lord that she whom he favours awaits him at the hemicycle in +the garden, and guide him to me." +</P> + +<P> +She spoke, marvelling at her steady tones, and, turning, walked, with +drooping head, to the semicircular, marble seat;—not the single seat, +back amongst the foliage, where she had met Perolla; "the philosopher's +chair," as Calavius had called it laughingly, where his son retired to +commune with thoughts too great for men. Sinking down at one end of +the hemicycle, she studied the carved lion's head that ornamented the +arm-rest, and the paw, thrusting out from the side-support, upon the +pavement beneath. It troubled her that such wonderful handicraft had +not considered that the head was entirely out of proportion with the +paw; and yet, if the former were larger or the latter smaller, surely +they would not fit well in the places they were intended to ornament. +What a provoking dilemma, to be sure—and at such a time, for, glancing +suddenly up, she saw Iddilcar's dark, repulsive features bent upon her +with a terrible intentness. All her former loathing surged back over +her heart with tenfold force, sickening her with its suffocating weight. +</P> + +<P> +"Light of the two eyes of Baal," he murmured softly. "Look kindly upon +thy servant. Smile upon his love, that thy light and his worship may +be eternal. Behold! for thee I cast aside the worship of the lord +Melkarth!" +</P> + +<P> +He tore apart his long, violet tunic, showing his throat and bosom hung +with necklaces. His arms, bare to the shoulders, glittered with heavy +bracelets. +</P> + +<P> +"Lo! the spoils of Italy assigned to my Lord I give to thee,"; and, +taking off necklace and bracelet, he knelt and piled them at her feet, +raising and parting his arms in the attitude of oblation. +</P> + +<P> +Charmed as by a serpent, Marcia watched him with horrible disgust, yet +unable to turn her eyes aside. +</P> + +<P> +"What is Tanis to thee!" he went on. "What, Ceres! What, Proserpine! +Ashera! Derceto!—goddesses afar from men—goddesses whom, not seeing, +we worship faintly with sacrifice and ceremony. But thou—thou shalt +dwell forever in the temple upon the Square of Melkarth. Come!" +</P> + +<P> +Again, and in spite of every resolve, Marcia felt the overmastering +sense of woman's loathing that stood so obstinately between herself and +the rôle she had marked out. It was too much. She could not—could +not suffer this man for a moment, even with the release of swiftly +hastening death before her eyes. She struggled to her feet, groping +about, turning, and, with a stifled scream, she sought to fly; but her +strength refused her even this service. +</P> + +<P> +In an instant, he was up and beside her; his hand had roughly grasped +her shoulder, half tearing away the cyclas; his little eyes blazed with +vindictive fury; his nostrils dilated; his coarse lips writhed in +hungry passion. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, slave! You would escape? Where? where? In this house? Ah, +fool! Could you not measure the comedy of this morning? Do you think +this old imbecile, this man condemned to follow his mouse-killing son, +can protect you from the meanest Nubian in the army? Do you +think—ah!" and he raised his hand, as if to strike. +</P> + +<P> +Wrenching herself loose by a quick movement, Marcia turned and faced +him with all the blood of the Torquati flushing in her cheeks, all +their fire blazing in her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Dog of a pulse-eater!" she cried, and he shrank back before the +vehemence of her tone. "Do I care what you do? Break your alliance +with these people if you wish—an alliance of fools with fools, knaves +with knaves! Break it, before it be cloven asunder for you by the +sword of Rome. Doubtless your chief will sacrifice all his plans to +your cowardly lust. Kill my protector, tear down his house, and—kill +me!—me, for whom there is neither sowing nor reaping in this matter." +</P> + +<P> +All his arrogance and violence had vanished, cowed and crushed by her +outbreak; but, even as he cringed before her, the gleam of Oriental +cunning had taken its place. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! now, indeed, art thou more beautiful than the lady Tanis," he +muttered, clasping and unclasping his hands, as if in ecstasy. "Now, +indeed, do I love thee." His voice sank to a whisper, and he glanced +about timorously. "And so it is neither sowing nor reaping with you, +my pretty?" he went on. "Fools we may be, but not the fools to be +blind to your sowing—not the fools who shall not root up your seed +before the day of reaping. Did not you, a Roman, counsel Mago to +delay? Did you not, foolish one, even give such counsel at the banquet +of welcome to the schalischim, until I laughed in my cup to see a silly +girl who would cajole men of government and of war?" +</P> + +<P> +Marcia stood, rigid and pale. All her plans seemed shivering about +her. She was doomed to fail then—fail after all, through the cunning +of these vermin. Still she struggled to retain her composure. +</P> + +<P> +"Liar!" she said. "Do I not know that if you spoke truth I would +already be buried under hurdles weighted with stones?" +</P> + +<P> +He laughed softly. "Why?" he asked. "What can you avail, coining lead +for us who perceive its falseness? Nay, you are even of use to +Hannibal, for, by your very eagerness, he has come to Maharbal's +thinking, that all must be done speedily, if we would take Rome. Even +now Capuans work night and day building our engines. Soon they will +set them up before your gates. We shall winter in Rome, as the guests +of the lady Marcia who has invited us. Therefore Hannibal grants you +life and to be a comfort to his friend and father, Pacuvius Calavius, +in his declining years;" and he laughed again, but harshly and +sneeringly. +</P> + +<P> +Marcia could scarcely keep her feet under the crushing force of these +blows. In what vain manner had she, an inexperienced girl, blind to +all but a noble purpose, contended with men whose cunning had sufficed +to snare the chiefs of her people! Worse even, she had herself forged +the weapons for the destruction of all she had hoped to save. Iddilcar +watched her from under half-closed lids, noting every line of her face, +and reading its struggle and its despair. +</P> + +<P> +"And so it is wisdom for us to march north at once?" he said softly. +</P> + +<P> +"How do I know?—a woman?" +</P> + +<P> +He smiled subtly and ignored the change of front he had wrested from +her. +</P> + +<P> +"Love me, and I swear by the crown of Melkarth that Hannibal shall +winter in Capua." +</P> + +<P> +She started, as if from the touch of fire. Had her ears heard words of +his, or was it only a belated thought coursing from her brain to her +heart? +</P> + +<P> +He stepped nearer and spoke again:— +</P> + +<P> +"Love me, pretty one, and Hannibal shall winter in Capua,—yea, though +he hangs on the cross for it,—though all the armies of Carthage become +food for dogs." +</P> + +<P> +At first she had been dreaming of new snares; but these last words and +the vehemence of his tone brought her to an intuitive realization that +this man was indeed prepared to give up god, country, general, +friends,—all, so only that he might gratify his overmastering passion. +The gods were indeed with her, after all,—were guiding her aright; and +the knowledge steadied her self-control and strengthened her resolve. +What omen of favour could be more potent than this snatching of victory +out of the very hands of ruin—this moulding of ruin into a source of +victory? +</P> + +<P> +So she spoke, calmly and evenly:— +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps you tell the truth, perhaps folly. How shall I know, any more +than I know of this power to command commanders, of which you make such +silly boast?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not I—-not I, lady," he protested eagerly. "Listen! It is the lord +Melkarth that has always loved the colonies of Phoenicia, first among +which is Carthage. It is he that has guided and guarded us through the +perils of the deep and of the desert, of the skies and of the earth, of +hunger and thirst, of beasts and men. What god equals him in our city! +What god receives such gifts, such incense, such sacrifices! What +though we fear Baal Moloch! Is it not the lord Melkarth whom we love? +It is he who goes before our armies, that he may tell them when to +attack, when to await the foe. I am his priest. Do you understand? I +have spoken his words many times. Now he shall speak mine." +</P> + +<P> +Marcia could hardly fail to understand the nature of the power which +this man now proposed to lay at her feet; yet it all seemed horribly +impossible that he, a priest, could dare such sacrilege for such end. +Had she been Fabius, Paullus, or even Sergius,—men who were already +groping amid the Greek schools of doubt, and were coming to regard the +religion of the state more as an invaluable means of curbing the vices +of the low and ignorant than as a divine light for the learned,—had +she been such as these, this proposal of Iddilcar would have seemed +incredible only on account of its treason to his country. And yet, in +one sense, she was better fitted than they to understand the +Carthaginian. True scepticism had found little room under the mantle +of the gloomy, the terrible cult that swayed the destinies of the +Chanaanitish races. Even the priests, while they were ready enough to +use the people's faith to minister to their own ends, trembled before +their savage gods. Low, brutish, full of inconsistent wiles their +faith might be, but such faith it was as an educated Roman could with +difficulty comprehend. On the other hand, the minds of the women of +Rome had not as yet swerved from unquestioning belief in the gods +consulting and the gods apart, and the Torquati were most conservative +among all the great houses. From childhood up—and in years she was +scarcely more than a child—all these had been very real to her. +Pomona wandered through every orchard beside her beloved Vertumnus; Pan +and his sylvan brood sported behind the foliage of every copse. She +would as soon have thought of questioning their presence as of doubting +her own being. Marcia believed; the average Roman patrician affected +to believe and indulged in his polite, Hellenic doubts; the +Carthaginian priest, while he believed, with all Marcia's fervour, in a +theology to which Marcia's was tender as the divine fellowship of the +Phaeacians, yet conceived that it was entirely legitimate to play +tricks upon his fiend-gods—to pit his cunning against theirs. If they +caught him, perhaps they would laugh, perhaps consume him in the flames +of their wrath. It depended on their mood—whether they had dined +well, perhaps; and he would take his chances. He stood, now, toward +his deities, just where the heroes of Homer had stood centuries before. +He was a living evidence of the Asiatic birth of Greek theology—only, +in the Asian races, religious feeling was not religious thought, did +not arise from the mind or change, like the cults of Europe, as the +mind that evolved or adopted them developed and outgrew its offspring. +</P> + +<P> +So it was that, while Marcia, but for her instinctive realization of +the truth, might have been utterly unable to credit the sincerity of +such prodigious wickedness, yet, armed with this intuition as a +starting-point, she sought for and found reasons to support it. The +purity of her own faith came to her aid. Perhaps the Punic gods were +mere demons, as they seemed to be, and Iddilcar knew it and relied for +protection upon the mightier gods of Rome. In a sense, she reasoned on +false premises, but her conclusion was, none the less, more accurate +than would have been that of either Paullus or Sergius. For the time, +at least, Iddilcar was entirely sincere. To be sure, if he could gain +his end by mere promises, he preferred to deceive Marcia rather than +Melkarth, but his plotting had not gotten so far as that yet. Now, his +fierce, Oriental nature was consuming with that passion which, in it, +took the place of all love. This Roman woman had aroused desires that +he had never known in the gardens of Ashera; her face was to the faces +of the courtesans who thronged the sacred woods on feast days, as the +glory of the crescent moon was to the sputter of the rancid oil in the +lamp that illumined the cell of Fancula Cluvia. Cunning beyond his +race, learned in the strange learning of the East that had come to a +few in Egypt and to fewer yet in Phoenicia, Iddilcar read the struggle +that was taking place in the girl's mind. +</P> + +<P> +"What do I care for Hannibal!" he cried; "for the Great Council! for +Carthage! I would give them all to you for one kiss. To him who has +learned all secret knowledge, the mind alone is God and city and home +and friends,—everything, everything save love," and his voice, harsh, +and strident, sank to a whisper in which was compassed all the +fierceness of ungoverned and ungovernable desire. +</P> + +<P> +Marcia knew, now, that he was speaking the truth; that he would indeed +stop at nothing; and, with the certainty, there came to her a strange +mingling of exultation, terror, and calm. She saw this man, powerful +with the power of the conqueror, learned with the learning of the +student and of the ascetic, grovelling here at her feet—slave to a +force against which no power, no philosophy could avail. She saw him +crawl to her and press her robe to his lips; she heard him mumbling and +whining like some animal, and she despised him and grew stronger in the +light of her growing self-esteem. At last she spoke. +</P> + +<P> +"It is well. I have listened and determined. Yes, you are right. I +have wished that the army should not march north; I have wished that it +should winter in Campania. I am a Roman; why should I not wish it? +You say you can accomplish this. Do so, and you shall have your +reward." +</P> + +<P> +Iddilcar sprang to his feet and threw out his arms to draw her to him; +the breath came from his chest in short gasps; his eyes were suffused +with tears through which he saw something glitter; and his hands, +clutching and unclutching, caught only air. Then his arms fell to his +sides; he paused and looked stupidly at her. She had sprung back and +was facing him defiantly with a short dagger raised to strike. +</P> + +<P> +"Not so soon, slave," she said, and her voice rang in his ears like +steel. "He who would reap must first sow." +</P> + +<P> +"You do not love me," he said sheepishly, gnashing his teeth because he +knew the foolishness of his words, and yet could say no others. +</P> + +<P> +She laughed; then her face grew sober. +</P> + +<P> +"No," she said; "I do not love you. Why should I? We love those who +serve us well—" +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! but I have promised," he broke in. "I am giving you everything." +</P> + +<P> +"I want but one thing," she said, while the lines of her mouth +hardened; "and, for that, I take no promise." +</P> + +<P> +He lowered his head to avoid the straight flash of her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"It is I, then, who must trust—always I," he muttered. "How do I know +you will give yourself when I earn you?—how do I know you will not +kill yourself with that dagger? for you hate me," and then, with sudden +fierceness; "why should I not take my own? What hinders me?" +</P> + +<P> +"This," said Marcia, touching the point with her finger. +</P> + +<P> +Iddilcar shuddered. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen now," she began, "and be reasonable. I have named my price, +and you have said it is not too much. Why speak of love or hate? Earn +me and take me." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," he echoed; for he was braver when his eyes studied the pavement; +"why speak of love or hate? It is you I want—your kisses, your +embraces. Who shall say that hatred may not flavour them better even +than love?" and he sneered. "Ah! but how shall I know?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am a Roman, and I have promised. Fulfil your Punic word as well, +and I swear you shall have your pay, so surely,"—and then the memory +of another day, happier, but oh! so bitterly regretted, came to her +mind,—"so surely as Orcus sends not the dead back from Acheron. Now +go." +</P> + +<P> +He drew back, step by step, still facing her, longing to rebel, yet not +daring, cringing, skulking like a whipped cur. He reached the end of +the path; the entrance to the garden was behind him. He raised his +clenched hand to the heavens. "Ah, Melkarth!" burst from his lips, +and, turning, he plunged into the house, running. +</P> + +<P> +Marcia listened eagerly to the fall of his sandals. They died away, +and the distant door creaked. Tears filled her eyes, and, shivering in +every muscle, she sank down upon the seat and buried her face in her +hands. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0210"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +X. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +MELKARTH. +</H3> + + +<P> +Two moons had waxed and waned; Pacuvius Calavius had dined in his +winter triclinium for the first time this year, and Marcia was +rejoicing at the omen. She watched her host, as he lay back upon his +couch, and noted with pity the change that had come over him. When he +had greeted her coming, he had seemed not very much past middle age—a +brisk man, well preserved in mind and body. Now he was old—very +old—and the pallor and wrinkles were prominent through the flush of +the wine and the paint with which he strove to hide them. Even his +ambition was dead; he hardly sought the Senate House, but, stopping +within doors, maundered querulously and unceasingly to Marcia, to his +servants, to any one who would listen to him, of the blunders that were +being made, and of how war and negotiations should be conducted, +speaking always as a man for whom such things had no personal interest. +The diadem of Italy that had once blinded his eyes to good faith and +oaths of alliance, had melted away in the flames of the pyre that +consumed his son. As for Marcia, she had come to regard him with +something of that indulgent consideration which we feel for the aged +and infirm. His former attitude toward herself, which had filled her +with contempt and disgust, had vanished utterly, and, in its place, was +a fatherly kindness that had now no nearer object upon which to lavish +itself. As for the household, what little discipline had once +pertained, was gone. The slaves were no longer punished, and, +slavelike, they presumed upon their master's gentleness or +indifference. They pilfered right and left; they neglected duties and +orders; until, at last, a large measure of the care of her host and his +house devolved upon Marcia alone; and Marcia, also, had softened and +grown kindlier, and was as slow to ask for punishments as was Calavius +to decree them. They seemed like two who were awaiting death, and +would not add to the measure of human misery, knowing, from their own, +how great this was. +</P> + +<P> +"Let them enjoy a false freedom for a few days longer," said Calavius. +"Soon we shall be gone, and then—who knows? I have no heirs, and the +state may not deal so kindly with them." Strangely enough, he seemed +always to assume Marcia's coming death along with his own; and when she +gazed into her mirror, its story moulded well with that reflected in +the mirror of her thoughts. +</P> + +<P> +She had grown thin—very thin—and pale, and her eyes burned, large and +luminous, as with the fires of fever. Her lips, too, were redder even +than when the blood had tinted them with hues of more perfect vigour. +</P> + +<P> +Hannibal had continued to preserve the attitude of respectful +consideration which had marked his demeanour on that day of which they +never spoke. He still greeted Calavius as, "father," when he came to +ask about his health, and on the days when he did not come, he sent +some Carthaginian of rank, generally Iddilcar, to make courteous +inquiries in his stead. +</P> + +<P> +Calavius, on the other hand, complained continuously of the +schalischim's delay, and Hannibal listened with downcast face, frowning +to himself, and made no answer except that he was the servant of the +gods. Marcia's presence he entirely ignored. Still, he spent little +of his time in Capua, and of this Calavius was now speaking. +</P> + +<P> +"Truly did you note the news we have received to-day, my daughter? Two +of the new engines destroyed before Casilinum!—Casilinum, forsooth!—a +paltry village, against which the Capuan children would hardly deign to +march! It is Rome—Rome—Rome that calls—and this great general, this +conqueror, sits down before Nuceria, Acerrae, Nola, Casilinum. Soon, +mark me," and his eyes gleamed prophetic, "Rome will sit down before +Capua: and then, receive thou me, O Death, who art my friend and +well-wisher!" +</P> + +<P> +Marcia wondered at this vehemence, so different from his manner through +all these weeks. +</P> + +<P> +"But the omens, my father," she said, after a moment's pause. "I have +heard that the gods of Carthage forbid the march north. Perhaps they +fear to contend with the gods of Rome at the foot of their own hills." +</P> + +<P> +"Tush! girl," exclaimed Calavius, impatiently. "Who does not know that +the gods say such words as their thievish priests filch from them. +Mark now this fellow that comes from the captain-general. Do you not +see how the fingers of his left hand clutch and unclutch? Were +Hannibal to crucify him and a few like, his gods might utter more +favouring responses. Meanwhile, our engines that should thunder at +your Capenian Gate are consumed before mud heaps; and who knows but all +the time some tree grows stouter that it may bear the weight of this +Hannibal, the slave of gods that should be taught their place and their +duties." +</P> + +<P> +Marcia, despite her complicity, listened, shuddering, to these +sacrilegious words; and, mingled with her shrinking from a philosophy +that dared to talk of the immortals as mere means to be used or cast +aside as human ends might dictate, was a terror lest similar reasoning +should at last find place in Hannibal's mind and thus bring to naught +her aims and her sacrifices. It was easy to see how the general chafed +at the unwonted delay, and with what willingness he listened when +another spoke the words which he himself dared not utter. +</P> + +<P> +Calavius had but just finished his tirade when they both turned at a +slight noise and saw Iddilcar standing in the entrance of the room. +How long he had been there—what he had heard, neither knew, but his +face wore the subtle smile which, though well-nigh native to its lines, +yet seemed always to bear some hidden import. +</P> + +<P> +"The favour of Melkarth and of the Baalim be with you!" he said softly. +"Your servants, my Pacuvius, are not over-well trained. There was no +offer to bear word of my coming—no offer of attendance. The porter +hardly deigned to swing the door for me." +</P> + +<P> +Marcia, knowing Iddilcar as she did, was prompt to take this speech in +the light of an explanation of his eavesdropping; but the once sharp +intelligence of Calavius had been too much deadened to search for +secondary meanings. +</P> + +<P> +"I am an old man, priest," he said querulously. "Why should I leave +stripes and crying behind me?" +</P> + +<P> +Iddilcar shrugged his shoulders. "That may be," he replied, "but if we +had such servants as yours in Carthage we should send their shades +ahead of us." +</P> + +<P> +He had indeed deftly parried any attack or inquiry. Then, suddenly, +and of his own accord, he turned back to strike. +</P> + +<P> +"And so you have been condemning the piety of the schalischim? the +integrity of the college of priests? the truth of the gods themselves, +for aught I know? Have a care!"—he was lashing himself into a +fury—"I have listened to your words. If I reported them, how long +before you would both be sent to Carthage to keep comradeship with that +terrible fellow, Decius Magius? Have care! have care lest the gods +strike through me, their servant. Nevertheless the gods are merciful +to those who bring offerings—peace-offerings of gold and jewels and +raiment and spices. Come, what will you give me that I smother their +wrath—I, Iddilcar, your friend, whom you speak ill of behind his +back—whom you hate—-yes, both of you;" and his eyes flashed at Marcia +with a strange recklessness that she had never seen in them. +</P> + +<P> +Wondering and terrified, she listened to his outburst of rage, but +Calavius heard it calmly, and answered, without troubling himself to +probe its import. +</P> + +<P> +"You shall have a talent of silver and such jewels as you choose," he +said, rising. "I will go and give the orders." +</P> + +<P> +"Orders!" sneered the other; but to Marcia it seemed that the word and +look covered suspicion at the ready acquiescence of the Capuan. +</P> + +<P> +"Then I will go with you and see that these orders are obeyed. Come; +ah!—" and he turned to Marcia; "and will you be here when I return? I +wish to speak with you." +</P> + +<P> +She inclined her head, still wondering, and when they had left the room +her wonder deepened. Surely a change had taken place. A Carthaginian +was always said to love money, but for Iddilcar to seek to obtain it by +such crude and violent means, from a man whom his general professed to +honour and protect, seemed to augur something of which she knew not. +Either Hannibal's protection was to be, for some reason, withdrawn, or +else?—but what else could embolden the priest to such license? The +look, too, with which he had regarded herself! She had restrained him +with some difficulty during the past months, but now she felt +instinctively that her control had vanished. Even violence seemed +near; for that Iddilcar could be fool enough to dream that his mere +repetition of the words he had listened to, would enrage Hannibal, she +did not for a moment believe. The general had heard the same from +Calavius, face to face, and had only frowned and bit his lips behind +his beard, as if feeling their justice. What, then, could have +happened? +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! you are still here." +</P> + +<P> +She looked up quickly, and saw that the priest had returned alone. He +went on, speaking quickly and nervously, but in low tones:— +</P> + +<P> +"The time has come. And so you were thinking, thinking of what? Was +it rejoicing that Tanis was to give you to me so soon?" and he showed +his teeth, like a dog. "Listen: they suspect me. I have done all as +you wished, but there was a council to-day in the camp before +Casilinum, and Maharbal fell on his knees, as he did after Cannae, and +begged to march north,—not with the cavalry alone, as then; he knew it +was too late for that: and the schalischim knit his brows and frowned. +Then Hasdrubal and Karthalo added their prayers and pleadings, +gathering around him, and then he turned his sombre face to me, and +asked if it was permitted; but, before I could answer, for my mind was +disturbed, that animal whom they call, 'The Fighter' had drawn his +sword and held it over my head, crying out: 'Yes, friends, it is +permitted—see! It is permitted;' and then I felt myself grow pale, +and I heard the great beast laugh. A moment later and Hannibal had +ordered him to put up his sword, and I saw Maharbal whispering quick +words in the general's ear, among which it seemed to me that his lips +formed your name. Again, Hannibal asked: 'Is it permitted, Iddilcar? +or what sacrifice will your lord have from us? Have we not served him +faithfully? Is there aught he wishes?' and I felt all their eyes on +me; but, above all, were yours that were soon to smile. Therefore I +took courage, which the lord Melkarth granted, and spoke boldly, +explaining that I had as yet been able to win no favour, though I had +prayed long and fasted and lashed myself with thongs, whereupon +Hannibal-the-Fighter made as if to tear off my mantle, laughing in his +beard; and when I saw they did not believe me, my terror came back. +Then it was that Melkarth shed wisdom upon his servant, and, after a +moment's thought, I spoke up, thus:— +</P> + +<P> +"'Listen, lords,' I said; 'I am a native Carthaginian, like you all, +and I reverence the gods. Howbeit it may chance that here, beyond the +sea, it is not so easy to win their favour, so that they shall go +before us. New and strange sacrifices and pleadings wherein I am +untaught may be needed to pierce the denser ether of this land. Truly, +lords, as ye have not failed in piety, neither have I erred in +divination, for Melkarth has spoken many times, telling me of the +unnumbered woes that would overwhelm the army if it marched upon Rome +unbidden, and he hath spoken truth, and I have saved you to revile me +for it—only I would learn if there be yet speech better fitted to his +ear.' I paused, and they were silent, wondering. Then I spoke on: +'Grant me, lords, three days, that I may journey to Cumae; for I have +heard that a woman dwells there, wise in the ways of the gods, and, if +I bear her rich presents, it may happen that she will teach me the +words that shall pierce this dull air, even to where Baal-Melkarth sits +enthroned in Mappalia, that he may grant all your wishes.' So I +crossed my arms upon my breast, and, bowing my head, listened. 'At +Cumae?' growled Jubellius Taurea, who sat near me, 'say, rather, at the +house of Pacuvius Calavius,' and I felt myself trembling, for then I +knew surely that I had heard Maharbal aright, and that I was suspected. +Still, I stood fast, and at last Hannibal spoke: 'Go to Cumae for three +days,' he said sternly. 'Take what you wish—one talent, two, three; +only bring back the words that shall win favour;' and Hasdrubal added: +'And harken! lord; if you win not favour, we shall yet march, and +peradventure you shall come with us—if they drive not the nails too +deep;' but there was an outcry at this, for they trembled lest Melkarth +should smite them, and Hasdrubal spoke again, grumbling: 'Ah, masters, +you have not seen soldiers as I have seen them, becoming bloated with +wine and food, and soft in the arms of courtesans;' but Hannibal +interrupted him, crying out to me again: 'Go!—go! There is little +time for the march, and it may be we are already too late. Go and do +all things so that the lord, Baal-Melkarth, shall favour us.' So I +went out, and, having taken their talents, I am here. This old sheep +has disgorged another talent together with gems. Therefore come now +and we shall escape hence." +</P> + +<P> +Marcia saw a dimness before her, amid which his jewels and bracelets +and earrings seemed to mingle strange glancings with the fires that +burned in his eyes. At last she faltered:— +</P> + +<P> +"But your work?—it is not finished. How shall I know?—if I go with +you?—" +</P> + +<P> +The rings on his hand were sinking deep into her wrist; his lips were +close to her ear. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! you will not go? You will play with me—deceive me? Listen now. +To-morrow I shall be here with horses and money—in the morning—very +early—before light; and you will go like a little bird that is tamed. +These days will give us time to gain more, if more be needed. Look! I +have hazarded all. Shall I lose my reward now because my work be +unfinished by ever so little? It may be that, having gone, I shall not +return. Do you think I will leave you here to laugh at me? You will +go, or, to-morrow, Baal-Melkarth shall speak the word, and, before +midday, Hannibal shall give orders to march to Rome. Why do you think +I have gathered this wealth? Look! I have risked all for it, and you +shall not escape." +</P> + +<P> +Exhausted by his rapid vehemence, he stood back, breathing hard and +trying to smile. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! moon of Tanis, you will come," he murmured, holding out his arms. +"We shall escape to Sicily—to Greece—to Egypt—to the far East. We +shall be rich with the spoils of fools—" +</P> + +<P> +A slight scraping noise came to their ears, and both started. Iddilcar +sprang swiftly to the entrance of the room, but the lamp in the hall +had gone out, and his eyes saw nothing in the darkness. Uncertain what +to do, he looked back to where Marcia stood, pale and rigid. His voice +and hands trembled as he repeated in a loud whisper:— +</P> + +<P> +"You will come? You will be ready?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said, "I will come;" but she did not look at him, as she +spoke, only she caught the triumphant gleam of his eyes; a thousand +weird lights seemed to whirl around her, and she felt herself sinking. +It seemed, for a moment, as if a slave in a gray tunic was supporting +her, and then all consciousness fled. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0211"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XI. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE SLAVE. +</H3> + + +<P> +It was an hour past midnight, when Marcia first knew the agony of +returning reason. The gong in the Forum had just struck. Where was +she? Surely in her own apartment! How had she come there? Then, +slowly, the memory of yesterday grew clear—the awful duty of +to-morrow. With eyelids fast shut, as if dreading to open them to the +darkness, she buried her throbbing temples beneath the rich Campanian +coverlid. She could still see the eyes of Iddilcar gleaming wolfish +amid his jewels; could see him standing in the doorway, as he turned +from that startled rush in pursuit of what had been, doubtless, only a +whisper of their imaginations. He had said he would come for +her—before daybreak—and she must be ready. Later, she could approach +death with suppliant hands, but now she must be ready. Her life was +not her own yet. It was her country's. Later, the shade of Lucius +would beckon. Surely he would forgive her for having avenged him. But +how had she reached her room? Had it been Calavius or the slaves who +had found her? did they suspect? Then she remembered the man who had +seemed to catch her as she fell. Where could Iddilcar have been then? +Had he hurried away? probably enough. Again a slight scratching noise, +as of some one softly changing his position,—like the sound which had +startled the priest, came to her ears. Ah, protecting gods! what was +true, and what but dreams? Her whole life was passing before her, +phantasmagorial and unreal. Surely some one was present! She <I>felt</I> +it. Had Iddilcar come already? The horror of the thought gave her +courage, and, thrusting down the coverlid, she opened her eyes +defiantly and tried to pierce the darkness. Nothing was visible, but +she knew she was not alone, and, leaning upon one elbow, she reached +out, groping. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly a hand grasped hers, a strong, bony hand, gripping it tightly, +and by its very energy commanding silence. It seemed strange to her +that she did not scream, but then she had known that she would find +some one, and had the hand been Iddilcar's, she would certainly have +realized it by the loathing in her soul. For her, now, all other men +had become friends. Therefore she was not frightened, did not cry +out—rather it was a soothing sense of companionship that came to +her—almost of reliance. Why had this man come?—perhaps to help her; +surely not to injure. Who was he? man or god? Gods had appeared to +those of olden times, when the Republic was young, and Romans +worshipped, believing. She felt very brave—fearless. +</P> + +<P> +"Who are you?" she whispered. +</P> + +<P> +"I am a slave," answered a voice. "I brought you here, and I am +watching." +</P> + +<P> +It was a voice that, while it rang hard, yet had in it an assurance of +protection—even of power, and it thrilled her as with some familiar +memory. Nevertheless she could not place its owner in the household. +Calavius had many slaves; a few of them had been free-born, and some, +perhaps, might even have known a measure of social standing, before the +turn of war or of financial fortunes had lost them to home and position. +</P> + +<P> +"Who are you?" she asked again. +</P> + +<P> +"I am a new servant," said the other. "Pacuvius Calavius bought me +yesterday in the Street of the Whitened Feet." +</P> + +<P> +She was silent a moment, trying hard to think; she felt the man's hand +trembling, and then, suddenly realizing, she drew her own away. +</P> + +<P> +"And yet you are going to-morrow with this beast—this animal!" said +the voice, bitterly. +</P> + +<P> +Startled again by the tone and accent, no less than by the words, she +burst out:— +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! why do you say that?—but you do not know, and I cannot tell you. +Yes, you are right. I am going away to-morrow. I am—a courtesan. +What then?" +</P> + +<P> +"By the gods! no!" he cried, and she heard him spring to his feet. +Then, lowering his voice, "If I thought <I>that</I>, I would kill you." +</P> + +<P> +"You would only forestall my own blow," she said quietly, and there was +new silence. +</P> + +<P> +At last he spoke again. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me all of this matter. You are safe. I am a Roman." +</P> + +<P> +"A Roman—and a slave?" +</P> + +<P> +"And a slave. Tell me the truth quickly." +</P> + +<P> +The voice sounded weak and hollow now, but still strangely familiar. +She began her story, speaking in a low monotone. +</P> + +<P> +"I am Marcia, daughter of Titus Manlius Torquatus. I loved, and yet I +drove my lover from me, and he was killed on the black day of Cannae. +Then the Senate feared lest the enemy should advance to Rome—prayed +for the winter—for time. And I was beautiful, and I had no love, save +for the king, Orcus. So the thought came to me that by my +blandishments I might win power with these people, and, by power, +delay, and, by delay, safety for Rome—and revenge for my lord, Lucius. +Therefore I journeyed to Capua. You see that I have played my +part—that I have won? Tomorrow I go to pay the price. What matters +it? Then I can die." +</P> + +<P> +He had listened in silence; only she heard his breath coming hard, and, +a moment after she had finished, he spoke:— +</P> + +<P> +"No—you cannot die—not thus. <I>I</I> have died—once, yet I live. +Listen! I, like the lover you tell of, was slain at Cannae, pierced +through by javelins, and I lay with the dead heaped above me—ah! so +many hours—days, perhaps—I do not know; until the slave-dealers, +passing among the corpses, found me breathing, and wondered at my +strength, auguring a good value. Therefore they took me, and when I +was well of my wounds they brought me here—to Capua, and sold me to +Pacuvius Calavius—to whom may the gods give the death of a traitor! +Lo! now, let it be for a warning that Orcus does indeed send back the +dead from Acheron." +</P> + +<P> +He leaned forward, as he spoke the words, and there came to Marcia a +sudden memory of two occasions when she had used the ancient +saying—the colloquial "never" of Rome. Once it had bound her to +Iddilcar, and once, far back, in happier times, it had parted her +forever from Sergius. Tears rolled down her cheeks. A dim light +seemed to be creeping into the room—very dim, but as her eyes grew dry +again, she could begin to trace the outlines of her companion sitting +on a low stool beside her couch. Surely those were footsteps in the +hall—yes, footsteps—and the approaching light of a lamp. +</P> + +<P> +Marcia's heart stood still. The slave had started from his seat and +drawn far back in the darkest corner of the room; then the curtains +were pushed cautiously aside, and the tall form of Iddilcar stood +revealed by the light of the small, silver lamp he bore in his hand. A +long, dark mantle enveloped him from head to foot. +</P> + +<P> +"Come," he said, speaking sharply but in low tones; and, holding the +lamp above his head, he tried to peer into the apartment. "Come; it +will soon be light. Ah! you have not arisen? No matter; I have +another cloak, and we must not delay. The slaves are well bribed, and +Calavius sleeps soundly—forever. My horses, good horses, are in the +street; a few moments and we gain the gate. The schalischim's own ring +is on my finger, and the seal of the Great Council shall win us egress. +<I>You</I> are my slave: that is how you shall go with me—and I accept the +omen." +</P> + +<P> +He laughed low and harshly, and Marcia shuddered, thinking of her host +lying slain—by his false slaves?—by the order of Hannibal?—no, +rather by the hand or plotting of this wretch who now called her, +"slave." +</P> + +<P> +"Come, come quickly, Romanus," he said, mimicking the Latin +nomenclature of foreign slaves. At the same time he took a step +forward into the room and let the curtains fall behind him. "Come, or +I shall have to order the rods to those white shoulders. That would +be—" +</P> + +<P> +And then a shadow seemed to glide forward from the corner half behind +him. For a moment a stream of lamplight fell upon a white, set face +behind the Carthaginian's shoulder—a face that was indeed from the +land of the four rivers; an arm was lashed around the priest's neck, +and, while Marcia stared spellbound at the shade that had come back to +save her, the lamp fell from Iddilcar's hand,—and then she lay still +and listened to the furious struggle that ensued, the scuffling of feet +upon the marble floor, the breathing that came and went in short, quick +gasps. Now it seemed that both fell together; but not in victory or +defeat, for the noises told of continuing combat; no words, only the +horrible sound of writhing and of hard-drawn breath. +</P> + +<P> +Breaking at last from the bonds of dazed wonder, she glided from the +couch, groping for the fallen lamp. She must <I>see</I>. She must <I>know</I>. +Then she remembered the room-lamp that stood on a stand by the bed, and +began to feel her way toward it. The grating of metal against metal +came to her ears, followed by a low exclamation and a sharp "Ah!" +gasped exultantly; then came the sound of two fierce blows. +</P> + +<P> +She had found the lamp now, and was trying to strike a light. The +victory was still undecided, though the combatants seemed to groan with +each breath they drew. At last the wick caught the spark, and the +mellow light and the odour of perfumed oil began slowly to fill the +room. A statuette or vase came crashing to the floor, and, raising the +lamp high above her head, she threw its light upon the struggling men. +For a moment she could make out nothing except a dark mass at her feet. +Then she caught the glitter of a weapon, and at last her eyes grasped +something of the situation. +</P> + +<P> +Iddilcar was undermost. She could see his black, curling beard that +seemed matted and ragged now, while the Roman—the man who bore the +face of the dead Sergius—was extended upon him, grasping, with both +hands, the Carthaginian's wrists. It was the latter who held the blade +that had glittered—a long Numidian dagger, but the hold upon his +wrists prevented his using it, and the Roman dared not release either +hand to wrench it away. There were bruises, too, on Iddilcar's +face—the blows of fists; but the blood on the floor told of some other +wound, doubtless the Roman's, inflicted before he could restrain the +hand that dealt it. Now, neither seemed able to accomplish further +injury, until the strength of one should fail; and if it was her +protector's blood that was flowing?—the thought was ominous. Neither +dared to cry out, for the aid that might come was too doubtful, and, +besides, they needed to husband all the air their lungs could gain. +</P> + +<P> +Marcia saw these things and thought them clearly, quickly, and in +order. Her mind seemed to grow as strangely calm as if busied in +selecting some shade of wool for her distaff. She reached down and, by +a quick movement, twisted the dagger from the stiffened, weary fingers +of the Carthaginian. A cry burst from him—the first since the +triumphant "Ah!" that had doubtless come from his lips when he used the +weapon, a few moments since. He writhed furiously, and Marcia stood, +holding the dagger in her hand, hesitating rather through dread of +injuring this new Sergius that had arisen to aid her. +</P> + +<P> +The Roman, however, seeing himself freed from the necessity of guarding +against the sharp point that had menaced him, now suddenly released the +wrists of his adversary, and, grasping him by the throat, he lifted his +head several times, and struck it violently against the pavement. The +Carthaginian groaned, and his hold relaxed for a moment. Then, tearing +himself free, and with one hand still gripping the throat of the +prostrate man, the Roman raised his body, and, turning toward Marcia, +reached out for the dagger. With eyes fixed wonderingly on his, she +gave it to him, as if only half conscious of her act. +</P> + +<P> +Again the scene changed. Less helpless than he had seemed, and with +staring eyes, before which death danced, Iddilcar gathered all his +remaining strength for one last, despairing effort, wrenched himself +loose, and staggered to his feet. +</P> + +<P> +Then Marcia saw Sergius, for she knew now it was indeed he, saw him +throw himself forward on his knees, and, catching Iddilcar about the +hips, plunge the blade into his side. +</P> + +<P> +The priest shrieked once, as he felt the point, and struggled furiously +to escape, raining blows upon the other's head and shoulders. Again +the long dagger rose and fell, piercing the man's entrails. Gods! +would he never fall?—and still he maintained his footing, but now his +hands beat only the air, and his struggles became agonized writhings. +Sergius' grip about his hips had never loosened, and the dagger rose +and fell a third time. Iddilcar groaned long and deeply and sank down +in a heap, carrying his slayer with him. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0212"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XII. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +FLIGHT. +</H3> + + +<P> +Slowly Sergius disengaged himself from the death grip that entangled +him, and, rising, turned to where Marcia stood. Still holding the +lighted lamp above her head and peering forward, she gazed into his +eyes with a look wherein wonder and terror were mingled with awakening +joy. +</P> + +<P> +"Who are you?" she faltered at last; "you who come as a slave, bearing +the face of a shade?" +</P> + +<P> +"I <I>am</I> a shade," he answered; "one sent back by Orcus—by the hand of +Mercury, to save a Roman woman from dishonour." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, my lord Lucius!" she cried, falling upon her knees and holding out +her hands toward him. "Truly it was not dishonour to avenge you, to +save the Republic; but if it were, then may your manes pity and forgive +me. There, now, is the dagger. Take it and use it, so that I, too, +may be your companion when you return to the land that owns you. I +love you, Lucius; the laughter of the old days has passed. Surely a +woman who is about to die may say to the dead words which a girl might +not say to her lover for the shame of them. I love you—I love you. +Take me before the maiden, Proserpine, that she may show us favour—to +your land—" +</P> + +<P> +The lamp fell from her hand; she felt herself raised suddenly from the +pavement, and strained hard against a bosom that rose and fell with all +the pulsations of life and love. Frightened, wondering, she struggled +faintly, while kisses warm and human fell upon her brow, her eyes, her +lips. +</P> + +<P> +"Marcia, little bird, dearest, purest, best," murmured a voice close to +her ear; "yes, you shall go with me to my land, and that land is Rome." +</P> + +<P> +Still she trembled in his arms, not daring to believe. +</P> + +<P> +"Wait," he said. Then, releasing her for a moment, he regained the +fallen lamp, relighted it and placed it in its niche, facing her again +with arms outspread. +</P> + +<P> +"Look well; am I not indeed Lucius Sergius—once pierced and worn with +wounds, but now well and strong to fight or love? The tale I told you +was true. It was my tale—the saving of one Roman from the slaughter +of her legions." +</P> + +<P> +She drew closer and looked again into his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said, and in her voice the joy began to sweep away all other +feelings; "yes, you are indeed Lucius Sergius Fidenas—man, not shade—" +</P> + +<P> +But, taking her hand, he interrupted:— +</P> + +<P> +"Do you not remember the omen, my Marcia? how you said you would love +me when Orcus should send back the dead from Acheron? how I accepted +it? how the gods have brought all about, as was most to their honour +and my joy?—for now you have indeed said that you love me." +</P> + +<P> +She placed her free hand upon his shoulder saying:— +</P> + +<P> +"And that which I, Marcia, daughter of Titus Manlius Torquatus, have +said unto the shade, that say I to the living Lucius Sergius. Take me, +love; for where thou art Caius, there shall I be Caia." +</P> + +<P> +Once again he took her in his arms and kissed her upon the lips, long +and tenderly. Then she drew herself back. +</P> + +<P> +"You are wounded?" she said anxiously. "Forgive me that I forgot. +Truly I forget all things, now—in this wonder and joy." +</P> + +<P> +Sergius laughed. +</P> + +<P> +"He pricked me—in the thigh, I think, but not deeply. The gods have +brought me so close to the shades that I am enough akin to them not to +heed little hurts." +</P> + +<P> +But she had seized the lamp and was examining his injury—a flesh wound +that, while it had bled freely, yet seemed to have avoided the larger +muscles and blood-vessels. +</P> + +<P> +"Did I not tell you?" he said reassuringly, as she rose from her knee. +"A close bandage so that it will not bleed—that is all we shall want, +for my strength must remain with me yet a little while, if we would +truly go to Rome and not to the realms of the dead." +</P> + +<P> +She said nothing, but, tearing strips from her stole, proceeded deftly +to bind them around the leg. +</P> + +<P> +"Agathocles himself could not do better—nay, I doubt Aesculapius—" +but she rose again quickly and placed her finger upon his lips. +</P> + +<P> +"It is the gods who have saved us to each other. Do not make them +angry, lest they withdraw their favour. I am ready to follow you, my +lord Lucius." +</P> + +<P> +Standing erect, he raised both hands in invocation. +</P> + +<P> +"A shrine to Venus the Preserver!—to Apollo the Healer!" +</P> + +<P> +Then, stooping quickly, he drew the long, dark robe of Iddilcar from +where it lay entangled about the legs of the corpse. Fortunately it +had slipped down from the Carthaginian's shoulders early in the +struggle; perhaps he had tried to free himself from it; perhaps it had +been partly torn away; but, in either event, it had fallen where it +must have hampered his movements even more seriously, and where it was +less stained with his blood than might have been expected. +</P> + +<P> +Sergius threw it over his own tattered, blood-stained garments, +striving to hide the rents, and raising it high about his neck so as to +conceal his face as much as possible. Meanwhile, Marcia, having bound +on her sandals, had of her own accord donned the mantle Iddilcar had +brought for her, and which had fallen by the door of the apartment. +Then, gathering up her long, thick hair, she confined it close above +her head, drawing down upon it the hat that lay beside the cloak—a +broad-brimmed Greek petasus, admirably adapted for concealment as well +as protection. +</P> + +<P> +"I am ready," she said eagerly. "Let us make haste." +</P> + +<P> +Sergius was stooping over the dead man, searching for something. +</P> + +<P> +"It is the ring," he said; "the ring with the seal of the Great Council +of which he spoke. How else should we pass the guard at the gate?" +</P> + +<P> +A moment later he rose, and, going to the light, examined carefully the +several rings taken from the priest's-fingers. +</P> + +<P> +One by one they dropped and rolled away over the floor. The last only +remained, and Marcia, looking over his shoulder, saw a heavy, gold +signet bearing the device of a horse under a palm tree. +</P> + +<P> +"Come now," he said, taking her hand. He had thrust the long knife of +Iddilcar into the girdle of his tunic, and this was their only weapon. +So, leading Marcia, he quickly traversed the halls and courts and +gained the door, which hung ajar and unattended. Outside, a company of +five men were gathered, all mounted. Two were apparently soldiers, a +sort of guard; the rest were servants. Heavy looking packages were +bound, behind them, on their horses' backs, doubtless the money which +Iddilcar had gotten, while two extra animals, saddled and bridled, were +held in waiting. +</P> + +<P> +The heart of Sergius leaped as he noted the fine, small heads and +slender, muscular legs that marked the Asian stock of their mounts. +Iddilcar had provided well for all emergencies; but Sergius felt some +anxiety lest a chance glimpse of his face might lead to detection. The +sky in the east was already beginning to lighten, and there were more +men of the escort than he had anticipated. Speech would be fatal; +therefore he strode quickly out, took the bridle of one of the horses +from the man who held it, and swung himself upon its back. To assist +Marcia could not be done without exciting suspicion, and he ground his +teeth when she tried to follow his example, and one of the servants +laughed and pushed her roughly into the saddle. Then they rode on, and +the others followed, whispering together. +</P> + +<P> +He had muffled his face a trifle too closely, perhaps, and he had +mounted the horse standing, whereas all knew that the Cappadocians were +trained to kneel at the word. Therefore the men of the escort +wondered, though they hardly ventured to suspect. +</P> + +<P> +Marcia felt, rather than noted, their attitude, and Sergius, glancing +toward her, saw that she was trembling. He urged his horse faster +toward the gate that opened upon the Appian Way; boldness and speed +were all that could save them. Suddenly the gate loomed up, gray and +massive, in the mist of the early morning. Several soldiers lounged +forward from the guardhouse, whence came the rattle of dice and the +shrill laughter of a woman. Sergius showed his ring and said nothing, +while Marcia came close to him, shivering, for the morning air was +chill and biting. Their followers had drawn rein, and were gathered in +a little clump several spear-lengths behind. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile the soldiers, Spaniards they seemed, were gazing stupidly at +the device on the seal and making irrelevant comments. It was evident +that their night had been spent among the wineskins, and that a new +danger menaced. +</P> + +<P> +Summoning what Punic he knew, Sergius leaned forward and asked in a low +but stern voice to see their officer. Fortunately his own followers +were too far away to hear his words, and drunken Iberians would not be +critical as to a faulty Punic accent. +</P> + +<P> +Still they hesitated, chattered together, and stared, but at last one +who seemed more sober than the rest reeled away to the guard-house, +and, after some delay and evident persuasion, emerged again with a +young officer whose moist, hanging lips and filmy eyes showed that he, +too, had been dragged from the pursuit of pleasure. Helmetless and +with loosened corselet, every detail of his appearance told the story +of relaxed discipline. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you want? at this hour?" he said thickly, ambling forward and +leaning heavily upon the shoulder of his scarcely more steady guide. +</P> + +<P> +Again Sergius held out the ring, and the man, being a native +Carthaginian, recognized it through the mist of his intoxication, and, +throwing himself at full length, touched the earth with his forehead. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you wish?" he said, rising and standing, somewhat sobered by +the presence of such authority. +</P> + +<P> +"Open the gate. I ride under orders of the schalischim," said the +Roman, again speaking low and rapidly. +</P> + +<P> +The officer turned and shouted to his men, and several ran to unbar the +gate with such speed as their condition warranted. The other occupants +of the guard-house were now grouped at the door, five men, half armed, +and two dishevelled women with painted faces and flower-embroidered +pallas. +</P> + +<P> +The gate swung slowly on its hinges. +</P> + +<P> +"The light of the Baals be with you, friend!" exclaimed Sergius, and he +and Marcia rode through, with hearts beating madly. Voices raised in +discussion made them turn in their saddles. In his drunken stupidity, +the Carthaginian officer was trying to detain their escort and +servants. "The master had said nothing about them. How did he know +they belonged to the same party?" Then all began gesticulating and +shouting to Sergius for help and explanation. +</P> + +<P> +Here was an unforeseen incident, and the mind of the young Roman viewed +it rapidly in all its lights. On the one side, he would be relieved of +an awkward following that might at any moment begin to suspect him; on +the other hand to leave these in the lurch would be to invite prompt +suspicion. Still, they were fifty yards or more in advance, their +horses were good, and more space would be gained before the tangle at +the gate could be straightened out; therefore he waved his arm, as if +making some signal, and, turning again in his saddle, rode on, but +without increasing his speed. +</P> + +<P> +Louder shouts followed him, for, as he had intended, his gesture had +proved unintelligible. Then, when they saw he did not stop, the cries +ceased suddenly and an animated chattering came to his ears. Here was +suspicion trying to make itself understood and, at last, succeeding, +for, as Sergius glanced back once more to note how the matter +progressed, the young captain of the gate sprang forward and shouted +for him to halt. +</P> + +<P> +"A third altar—to Mercury the hastener!" exclaimed Sergius. "Quick +now! with the knees!" and, pressing the flanks of his Cappadocian, both +animals bounded forward into a headlong gallop. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap0213"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XIII. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +WINTER QUARTERS. +</H3> + + +<P> +The beat of hoofs upon the great blocks of basalt rang through the +morning air in measured cadence, and soon an answering echo came up +from the south. Open flight had at last dispelled all doubt and given +the signal for pursuit. +</P> + +<P> +First came the two Africans of the original escort, released and bidden +to ride for life or death; a short distance behind was the Carthaginian +captain on his own horse which had probably been haltered behind the +guard-house; and, last of all, three of the Spanish guard, who had +thrown the servants and baggage from the animals that bore them, and +appropriated such speed as these afforded for the business in hand. +</P> + +<P> +That the officer was pretty well sobered seemed apparent. A fugitive +bearing the ring of the schalischim—the seal of the Great +Council—must be a man of importance, or else the possession of such a +talisman augured the commission of some terrible crime. Already he saw +himself stretched writhing upon the cross; the crowd, reviling or +gibing, seemed surging about his feet; and his howls of anguish found +voice in a storm of guttural objurgations to men and horses, mingled +with prayers and vows to the gods of Carthage. +</P> + +<P> +He had overtaken the two Africans now, for his animal was better than +theirs, but the three others laboured hopelessly behind: the +Cappadocians flew rather than galloped far in advance. Already nearly +three hundred yards separated them from their pursuers, and the gap was +widening slowly but surely. Only the officer held his own, for he was +now forging ahead of the Africans. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, cowards! slime! filth!" he shouted to his struggling men. "The +cross! the cross! that for you unless we catch them! that for me!—for +all! Ah, Eschmoun! Ah, Khamon!—Melkarth!—gifts!—gold, gems, robes, +spices!—my first-born to the Baals! to the Baals! Help! speed!" +</P> + +<P> +The man was mad—mad indeed with terror and newly dispelled +drunkenness; and his horse, a great African, coal-black save for one +white hoof, seemed to partake of his master's frenzy. With ears lying +flat along his head, and eyes that burned into those of Sergius, when +he ventured to glance behind him,—glaring sheer through distance and +dust like the very eyes of those demons his rider invoked,—the beast +thundered on, equalling the speed of the light Asiatic chargers by the +force of strength alone. +</P> + +<P> +From time to time the fugitives turned their heads to measure the +distance, and the sight of this unwearied pursuer appeared to fascinate +them as by some weird power. The rest were beaten out,—the Spaniards +lost to sight, the Africans visible only by the dust that hung over +them far behind. +</P> + +<P> +The mountains to the eastward seemed to be dancing away in a mad chase +toward the south, a chase which Tifata itself was urging on. The +glimmer of white in the north told of the morning sun striking upon +houses. Still they rode on, pursuers and pursued. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly a sound, half-trumpet note, half bellow, swelled up ahead. +Then another answered it, and another and another took up the refrain. +</P> + +<P> +Sergius' face blanched, and, with a sudden effort, he threw his animal +almost upon its haunches. Marcia was carried several spear-lengths +farther before she could check her speed. Wonder and the dread of some +accident drove the blood to her heart. A hoarse shout of triumph came +from their pursuer, as she turned to ride back. +</P> + +<P> +She asked no questions. Surely Sergius knew what was best. She saw +Iddilcar's long dagger in his hand, and that he was about to fight. +</P> + +<P> +"Back!—back! and to one side," he called, as she rode up. "Did you +not hear the elephants? That is Casilinum, and they are besieging it. +We should have remembered." +</P> + +<P> +He darted forward to meet the Carthaginian, fearful that he, too, would +draw rein and await the coming of his followers. Then indeed all would +be lost. Six soldiers on the one side and a camp full on the other +were hopeless odds against a wounded man armed only with a Numidian +dagger. +</P> + +<P> +But it was Bacchus that fought for Rome that day—Bacchus, to whom no +altar had been vowed. A night of debauchery and the sudden terror of +its awakening had effectually blurred whatever judgment the officer may +have had, and his one thought was to kill or capture his quarry. +</P> + +<P> +So they came together, Sergius swerving his Cappadocian as they met. +The officer struck blindly, but the good lord Bacchus put out his hand +and turned the blow aside. Then, as they parted, a strange thing +happened. Marcia had wondered dimly why Sergius struggled with the +long, girdleless garment of Iddilcar, tearing it off as he rode. Now, +when the two horses sprang apart, she saw that he had thrown it +dexterously over the Carthaginian, blinding his blow and tangling him +in its heavy folds. +</P> + +<P> +Prompt to respond to knee and rein, the Cappadocian wheeled, almost as +soon as he ran clear, but the African thundered on, while its rider +cursed in blind terror and tried to check his horse and to free his +face and sword-arm. A moment, and he had succeeded, but he succeeded +too late. The Roman was at his back, and Marcia saw the long dagger +rise and fall in a swift thrust. She could not see how the point took +its victim just at the nape; but she saw him pitch forward like an ox +under the axe. +</P> + +<P> +Almost before she could grasp what had happened, Sergius was beside the +fallen man, had resumed the priest's tunic, red with new blood stains, +and was on his horse again. His brow lay in deep lines as he rode +toward her. +</P> + +<P> +"Come," he said. "The gods favouring us, we must pass their camp +before the rest come up. Grant that those may linger by the corpse, +and that we meet no check." +</P> + +<P> +Again they were galloping toward the lines that lay about Casilinum. +All had happened so quickly that even now they could scarcely see the +plume in the distant dust cloud that told where the pursuers straggled +on. They had turned into the new side-road without meeting a man. +Then a small foraging party halted them, and Sergius showed the seal +and spoke in Gallic to its Numidian leader. A little farther on was +stationed another band, and here the delay was longer ere his halting +Punic convinced the Spanish piquet, and they again rode forward +unsuspected. All had bowed low to the horse and the palm tree, and no +one dared question what weighty mission urged on the man in the torn +and blood-stained tunic and the slender youth, his companion. +</P> + +<P> +Now they were back again upon the pavement of the Appian; the last line +was passed, and the beleaguered town with its stout-hearted garrison +lay well behind. Perhaps that sudden uproar told of the arrival of +their pursuers; perhaps those glittering points amid distant dust +clouds meant a new pursuit. Surely none but Mercury had winged the +feet of the Cappadocians! Unwearied, like springs of steel, the stout +muscles drove them on—on over the marshland with the glint of the sea +before them—on, up the rising ground. +</P> + +<P> +Again and again Sergius turned in his saddle scanning the road behind, +feeling the presence of pursuers whom he could not see. The good +horses were weakening fast. No flesh and blood could stand that +strain, and naught but the spirit of the breed kept them afoot. +Marcia's was limping painfully; the one Sergius rode was wavering in +its stride, like the Carthaginian captain when he came out of the +guard-house by the gate. +</P> + +<P> +"Gods! What were those shrill sounds—half whistle, half scream?" +</P> + +<P> +Too well he remembered how the Numidians urged on their bridleless +chargers. Yes, there they were now—scarce half a milestone behind and +coming up like the wind that blew through their dishevelled +manes—fifty at least. Death, then, was decreed, after all, and he +glanced toward Marcia, measuring the time when he might kiss her and +kill her ere he sold his own life to the javelins. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly he heard her cry out. +</P> + +<P> +"Look!" she called, and, following her finger, he gazed eagerly ahead. +</P> + +<P> +A clump of horsemen, heavy armed with helmet and corselet, crowned the +knoll of rising ground over which the road led, and, above them, +fluttering in the breeze, he saw the square vexillum of the cavalry of +the legion. +</P> + +<P> +He was among them now, lifting Marcia from her horse and dimly +conscious of many words being spoken around. +</P> + +<P> +"See, lord, they have halted," said a voice. "Is it your will that we +pursue?" +</P> + +<P> +Then, as an answering voice replied in the negative, he kissed Marcia +and made her drink wine that some one brought. Barbarous cries that +she must not hear or understand came to his ears, and he knew that +their pursuers were wheeling in discomfited flight. The circle of +soldiers stood back. Something cold and feathery fell upon his +upturned face and turned to moisture. He saw a tall man with features +of wonderful beauty regarding them kindly and in silence; his white +paludamentum was heavily fringed with purple, and Sergius recognized +him now,—Marcus Marcellus, the new dictator. Another drop, feathery, +cold, and moist, fell upon Marcia's hand, and she roused herself at the +touch, peering up into her lover's face and then quickly at the heavens. +</P> + +<P> +"Look!" she cried. "Up! not into my eyes." +</P> + +<P> +He turned, for an instant, to see the blue vault of a few moments since +overcast with gray and filled with a swirl of snowy flakes. +</P> + +<P> +"See, now, Lucius, lord of my life; here are the messengers of winter. +Winter quarters! he is in winter quarters! See! have we not prevailed?" +</P> + +<P> +It was the voice of the dictator that answered:— +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, truly; and there shall soon be prepared for him eternal summer +quarters in Phlegethon—if the Greek tales be true." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> +<hr class="full" noshade> + +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LION'S BROOD***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 20219-h.txt or 20219-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/2/1/20219">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/2/1/20219</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL</a> + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** +</pre> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/20219-h/images/img-front.jpg b/20219-h/images/img-front.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6fc7e3b --- /dev/null +++ b/20219-h/images/img-front.jpg diff --git a/20219.txt b/20219.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a45bf8a --- /dev/null +++ b/20219.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8280 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Lion's Brood, by Duffield Osborne + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Lion's Brood + + +Author: Duffield Osborne + + + +Release Date: December 29, 2006 [eBook #20219] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LION'S BROOD*** + + +E-text prepared by Al Haines + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustration. + See 20219-h.htm or 20219-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/2/1/20219/20219-h/20219-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/2/1/20219/20219-h.zip) + + + + + +THE LION'S BROOD + +by + +DUFFIELD OSBORNE + +Author of "The Spell of Ashtaroth," "The Secret of the Crater" + + + + + + + +[Frontispiece: Here and there a Gaul would bound +forward . . . to throw himself prone beneath +the vermilion hoofs.] + + + +New York +Doubleday Page & Company +1904 +Copyright, 1901, +by Doubleday, Page & Co. + + + + +To the Memory of + +HOWARD SEELY + +BRILLIANT WRITER, TRUE-HEARTED GENTLEMAN, + +STANCH AND LOYAL FRIEND + + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +PART I. + +INTRODUCTION + + +CHAPTER + + I. NEWS + II. WORDS + III. PARTING + IV. FABIUS + V. TEMPTATION + VI. DISOBEDIENCE + VII. PUNISHMENT + VIII. DISGRACE + IX. HOME + X. CONVALESCENCE + XI. POLITICS + XII. BRAWLINGS + XIII. THE RED FLAG + XIV. CANNAE + XV. "WITHIN THE RAILS" + + +PART II. + + I. THE QUEEN OF THE WAYS + II. THE GATE + III. PACUVIUS CALAVIUS + IV. THE HOUSE OF THE NINII CELERES + V. THE BANQUET + VI. ALLIES + VII. "FREEDOM" + VIII. DIPLOMACY + IX. THE BAIT + X. MELKARTH + XI. THE SLAVE + XII. FLIGHT + XIII. WINTER QUARTERS + + + + +PART I. + + +THE LION'S BROOD. + + +INTRODUCTION. + +Centuries come and go; but the plot of the drama is unchanged, and the +same characters play the same parts. Only the actors cast for them are +new. + + +It is much worn,--this denarius,--and the lines are softened and +blurred,--as of right they should be, when you think that more than two +thousand years have passed since it felt the die. It is lying before +me now on my table, and my eyes rest dreamily on its helmeted head of +Pallas Nicephora. There, behind her, is the mint-mark and that word of +ancient power and glory, "Roma." Below are letters so worn and +indistinct that I must bend close to read them: "--M. SERGI," and then +others that I cannot trace. + +Perhaps I have dozed a bit, for I must have turned the coin, +unthinking, and now I see the reverse: a horseman, in full panoply, +galloping, with naked sword brandished in his left hand, from which +depends a severed head tight-clutched by long, flowing hair. + +The clouds hang low over the city, as I peer from my tower +window,--driving, ever driving, from the east, and changing, ever +changing, their fantastic shapes. Now they are the waving hands and +gowns of a closely packed multitude surging with human passions; now +they are the headlong rout of a flying army upon which press hordes of +riders, dark, fierce, and barbarous--horses with tumultuous manes, and +hands with brandished darts. Surely it is a sleepy, workless day! It +will be vain to drive my pen across the pages. + +I do not see the cloud forms now--not with my eyes, for they have +closed themselves perforce; but my brain is awake, and I know that the +eyes of Pallas Nicephora see them, and grow brighter as if gazing on +well-remembered scenes. + +Why not? How many thousand clinkings of coin against coin in purse and +pouch, how many hundred impacts of hands that long since are dust, have +served to dim your once clear relief! + +Surely, Pallas, you have looked upon all this and much more. Shall I +see aught with your eyes, lady of my Sergian denarius? Shall I see, +if, with you before me, I look fixedly at the legions of clouds that +cross my window an hour--two--three--even until the night closes in? + +Grant but a grain of this, O Goddess, and lo! I vow to thee a troop of +pipe-players upon the Ides of June. + + + + +I. + +NEWS. + +"A troop of pipe-players to Minerva on the Ides of June, if we win!" + +"And my household to Mars, if we have lost!" + +The speakers were hurrying along the street that leads down from the +Palatine Hill toward the Forum, and both were young. Their high shoes +fastened with quadruple thongs and adorned with small silver crescents +proclaimed their patrician rank. + +"Why do you vow as if the gods had already passed judgment, Lucius?" + +"Because, my Caius, I am very sure that a battle has been fought. What +else do these rumours mean that are flying through the city? rumours +that none can trace to a source. It is only a few minutes, since my +freedman, Atius, told me how the slaves report that our neighbour +Marcus Sabrius rode in last night through the Ratumenian Gate; and when +I sent to his house to inquire, the doorkeeper feigned ignorance. That +is only one of a hundred tales. Note the crowd thickening around us as +we approach the Forum, and how all are pressing in the same direction. +Study their faces, and doubt what I say if you can." + +"But is it victory or defeat?" + +"Answer me your own question, Caius. Is 'victory' or 'defeat' the word +that men do not dare to utter?" + +The face of Caius became grave. Then suddenly he burst out with:-- + +"You are right. I see it all now, even as you speak; and what hope had +we from the first? Who was the demagogue Flaminius that he should +command our army, going forth without the auspices--a consul that was +no consul at all in the sight of the gods! Then, too, there were the +warnings that poured in from all the country: the ships in the sky, the +crow alighting on the couch in the Temple of Juno, the stones rained in +Picinum--" + +"Foolish stories, my Caius; the dreams of ignorant rustics," replied +Lucius, smiling faintly. "Besides, you remember they were all +expiated--" + +"And who knows that they were expiated truly!" croaked an old woman +from a booth by the road. "Who does not know that, as Varro says, your +patrician magistrates would rather lose a battle than that a plebeian +consul should triumph! Varbo, the butcher, dreamed last night that his +son's blood was drenching his bed, and when he awoke, it was water from +the roof; and Arates, the Greek soothsayer, says that Varbo's son has +been slain in the water, and his blood--" + +But the young patricians, who had halted a moment at the interruption, +now hurried on with an expression of contempt on their faces. + +"That is what Flaminius stands for," resumed Lucius after a moment of +silence. "How can we look for success when such men are raised to the +command, merely because they _are_ such men; and when a Fabius and a +Claudius are set aside because their fathers' fathers led the armies of +the Republic to victory in the days when this rabble were the slaves +they should still be." + +The friends had turned into the Sacred Way. A moment later they +arrived at the Forum lined with its rows of booths nestled away beneath +massive porticoes of peperino, and with its columned temples standing +like divine sentinels about or sweeping away up the rugged slope of the +Capitoline to where the great fane of Jupiter Capitolinus shed its +protecting glory over the destinies of Rome. + +Below, the broad expanse of Forum and Comitia was thronged with a +surging crowd--patricians and plebeians,--elbowing and pushing one +another in mad efforts to get closer to the Rostra and to a small group +of magistrates, who, with grave faces, were clustered at the foot of +its steps. These latter spoke to each other in whispers, but such a +babel of sounds swelled up around them that they might safely have +screamed without fear of being overheard. + +The booths were emptied of their cooks and butchers and silversmiths. +Waving arms and the flutter of robes emphasized the discussions going +on on every side. Here a rumour-monger was telling his tale to a +gaping cluster of pallid faces; there a plebeian pot-house orator was +arraigning the upper classes to a circle of lowering brows and clenched +fists, while the sneering face of some passing patrician told of a +disdain beyond words, as he gathered his toga closer to avoid the +contamination of the rabble. + +One sentiment, however, seemed to prevail over all, and, beside it, +curiosity, party rancour, wrath, and contempt were as nothing. It was +anxiety sharpened even into dread that brooded everywhere and +controlled all other passions, while itself threatening at every moment +to sweep away the barriers and to loose the warm southern blood of the +citizens into a seething flood of furious riot or headlong panic. + +The two young men had descended into this maelstrom of popular +excitement, and were making such headway as they could toward the +central point of interest. Now and again they passed friends who +either looked straight into their faces, without a sign of recognition, +or else burst out into floods of information,--prayers for news or +vouchsafings of it,--news, good or bad, true or false. Perhaps +three-fourths of the distance had been covered at the expense of torn +togas and bruised sides, when a sudden commotion in front showed that +something was happening. The next moment the hard, stern face of +Marcus Pomponius Matho, the praetor peregrinus, rose above the crowd, +and then the broad purple band upon his toga, as he mounted the steps +of the Rostra. + +It seemed hours--almost days--that he stood there, grave and silent, +looking down into the sea of upturned faces, while the roar of the +multitude died away into a gentle murmur, and then into a silence so +oppressive that each man seemed to be holding his breath. Once the +magistrate's lips moved, but no words came from them, and strange +noises, as of the clenching of teeth and sharp, quick breathing, rose +all about. Then a voice came from his mouth, the very calmness of +which seemed terrible:-- + +"Quirites, we have been beaten in a great battle. Our army is +destroyed, and Caius Flaminius, the consul, is killed." + +For a moment there was stillness deeper almost than before, as if the +leadlike words were sinking slowly but steadily along passage and nerve +down to the central seats of consciousness; then burst forth a sound as +of a single groan--the groan of Jupiter himself in mortal anguish; and +then the noise of women weeping, the shrieking treble of age, and the +rumbling murmur of curses and execrations,--against senate and nobles, +against the rabble and their dead leader, but, above all, against +Carthage and her terrible captain. + +"Who are these men that slay consuls and destroy armies?" piped the +shrill voice of an aged cripple who had struggled up from where he sat +upon the steps of Castor, and was shaking the stump of a wrist toward +the north. + +"Are they not the men who surrendered Sicily that we might let them +escape from us at Eryx? Did they not give up their ships, and pay us +tribute, and scurry out of Sardinia that Rome might spare them? I--I +who am talking to you have seen their armies: naked barbarians from the +deserts, naked barbarians from the woods--not one well-armed man in +five--a rabble with a score of languages, to whom no general can talk. +_They_ to destroy the army of Rome--in her own land!--what crime have +we committed that the gods should deal with us thus?" + +"But the great beasts that tear up the ranks?" put in a young butcher, +one of the circle that had been drawn together about the veteran. + +"How did his elephants save Pyrrhus--and then we saw them for the first +time?" retorted the cripple. + +"You forget, that was before Rome had become the prey of demagogues; +before she had Flaminii for consuls." + +All turned toward the new speaker--the young patrician whom his +companion had called Lucius. He was a man perhaps twenty-five years of +age, of middle height, sparely built but as if of tempered steel, with +strong, commanding features and dark hawklike eyes that were now +glittering with passion. It was not a handsome face except so far as +strength and pride make masculine beauty, but it was the face of one +whom a man might trust and a woman love. + +The butcher was on the point of returning an angry retort, half to hide +his awe of the other's rank, when a friend caught him by the arm. + +"Do you not see it is Lucius Sergius Fidenas?" he whispered. + +The result of the warning was still doubtful, when a sudden commotion +in the crowd about them drew the attention of all to a short, thick-set +man of middle age, in the light panoply of a mounted legionary. Cries +went up from all about:-- + +"It is Marcus Decius." "He is from the army." "Tell us! what news?" + +For answer the newcomer turned from one to the other of his +questioners, with a dazed expression on his pale, drawn face. + +"What shall I say, neighbours?" he muttered at last. "My horse fell +just out there on the Flaminian road, and I came here on foot. I have +eaten nothing for a day." + +But they paid no attention to his wants, thronging around with almost +threatening gestures and crying:-- + +"What news? What news--not of yourself--of the army?--of the battle?" + +"There was no battle, and there is no army," said the man, dully. + +Sergius forced his way to the front and threw one arm about the +soldier. Then, turning to the crowd:-- + +"Stand back!" he cried, "and give him air. Do you not see the fellow +is fainting?" + +"No battle--and yet no army," repeated Decius, in a murmurous monotone, +when, for a moment, there were silence and space around him. "We +marched by the Lake Trasimenus, and the fog lay thick upon us. Then +came a noise of shouts and clash of arms and shrieks, but we saw +nothing--only sometimes a great, white, naked body swinging a huge +sword, and again a black man buried in his horse's mane that waved +about him as he rushed by--only these things and our own men +falling--falling without ever a chance to strike or to see whence we +were stricken." + +The crowd shuddered. + +"And the elephants?" + +"I did not see them. They say they are all dead." + +"And the consul?" + +"I do not know." + +Just then the cripple from the steps was pushed forward. + +"Flaminius is dead. He died fighting, as a Roman consul should. But +you? What are you, to let the pulse-eaters at him. You should have +seen how _we_ dealt with them off the Aegusian Islands." + +"Or at Drepana?" sneered the horseman, roused from his lethargy by the +other's taunt. + +"That was what a _patrician_ consul brought us to," muttered the +cripple, glancing at Sergius. "Do you know what the Claudian did? +When the sacred chickens would not eat, he cried out, 'Then they shall +drink,' and ordered them thrown overboard. How could soldiers win when +an impious commander had first challenged the gods?" + +"And what about Flaminius ordering our standards to be dug up when they +could not be drawn from the earth?" retorted the other. + +"Did he do that?" asked several, and for a moment the feeling that had +been with the cripple, and against the victim of this latest disaster, +seemed divided. + +Sergius perceived only too clearly that, in the present temper of men's +minds, the faintest spark could light fires of riot and murder that +might leave but a heap of ashes and corpses for the Carthaginian to +gain. Taking advantage of the momentary lull, he said in conciliatory +tones:-- + +"Flaminius neglected the auspices, and disaster came upon us for his +impiety, but it appears that he died like a brave soldier, and he is a +whip-knave who strikes at such. As for this man, he needs succour and +care. Stand aside, then, that I may take him where his wants may be +ministered to. There will soon be plenty of fugitives to fill your +ears with tales." + +"Not many, master, not many," murmured Decius, as the young man forced +a way for them through the crowd. "Some are taken, but most lie in the +defile of Trasimenus or under the waters of the Lake." + +Sergius hurried on, thinking of Varbo the butcher's dream, and of +Arates the Greek soothsayer's interpretation. + + + + +II. + +WORDS. + +Three days had passed since the awful news from the shore of Lake +Trasimenus had plunged Rome into horror and despair. Every hour had +brought in stragglers: horse, foot, fugitives from the country-side, +each bearing his tale of slaughter. Crowds gathered at the gates, +swarming about every newcomer, vociferous for his story, and then +cursing and threatening the teller because it was what they knew it +must be. + +In the atrium of Titus Manlius Torquatus, on the brow of the Palatine, +overlooking the New Way, was gathered a company of three: the aged +master of the house, a type of the Roman of better days, and a worthy +descendant of that Torquatus who had won the name; his son Caius, the +youth who had been with Sergius in the Forum; and Lucius Sergius +himself. All were silent and serious. + +The elder Torquatus sat by a square fountain ornamented with bronze +dolphins, that lay in the middle of the mosaic paving of the apartment. +The walls were painted half yellow, half red, after the manner of Magna +Grascia, while around them were ranged the statues of the Manlian +nobles. The roof was supported in the Tuscan fashion by four beams +crossing each other at right angles, and including between them the +open space above the fountain. + +It was the old man who spoke first. + +"Do not think, my Lucius, but that I see the justice of your prayer, or +that I wish otherwise than that Marcia should wind wool about your +doorposts. Still there is much to be said for delay. Surely these +days are not auspicious ones for marriages, and surely better will +come. You have my pledge, as had my dead friend Marcus Marcius in the +matter of her name. Do you think it was nothing for me to call a +daughter other than Manlia--and for a plebeian house at that? Yet she +is Marcia. Doubt not that I will keep this word as well." + +"Aye, but, father," persisted Sergius, "is it not something that she +should be mine to protect in time of peril?" + +"And who so able to protect as Lucius," put in Caius, with an admiring +glance, for Caius Torquatus was six years younger than his friend, and +admired him with all the devotion of a younger man. + +"Has it come that our house cannot protect its women?" cried the elder +Torquatus. "What more shameful than that our daughter should be +carried thus across a Sergian threshold--going like a slave to her +master!" He spoke proudly and sternly. Then, turning to Sergius, he +went on more gently: "Were you to remain in the city, my son, there +might be more force in what you claim; but you will go out with one of +the new legions that they will doubtless raise, and you will believe an +old man who says that it is not well for a soldier in the field to have +a young wife at home." + +Sergius flushed and was silent, lest his answer should savour of pride +or disrespect toward an elder. + +Suddenly they became conscious of a commotion in the street. Shrill +cries were borne to their ears, and, a moment later, blows fell upon +the outer door, followed by the grinding noise as it turned upon its +pivots. A freedman burst into the atrium. + +Titus Torquatus rose from his seat, and half raised his staff as if to +punish the unceremonious intrusion. Then he noted the excitement under +which the man seemed to be labouring, and stood stern and silent to +learn what news could warrant such a breach of decorum. + +"It is Maharbal, they say--" and the speaker's voice came almost in +gasps--"Maharbal and the Numidians--" + +"Not at the gates!" cried both young men, springing to their feet; but +the other shook his head and went on:-- + +"No, not that--not _yet_, but he has cut up four thousand cavalry in +Umbria with Caius Centenius. The consul had sent them from Gaul--" + +"Be silent!" commanded the elder Torquatus. "Surely I hear the public +crier in the street. Is he not summoning the Senate? Velo," he said, +turning to the freedman; "you are pardoned for your intrusion. Go, +now, and bear orders from me to arm my household, and that my clients +and freedmen wait upon me in the morning. It is possible that the +Republic may call for every man; and though I fear Titus Manlius +Torquatus cannot strike the blows he struck in Sicily, yet even _his_ +sword might avail to pierce light armour; and he is happy in that he +can give those to the State whose muscles shall suffice to drive the +point through heavy buckler and breastplate." + +"Shall it be permitted that I attend you to the Senate House?" asked +Caius. + +His father inclined his head, and, donning the togas which slaves had +brought, they hurried into the street, hardly noting that Sergius had +reseated himself and was gazing absently down into the water, counting +the ripples that spread from where each threadlike stream fell from its +dolphin-mouth source. + +He did not know how long he had sat thus, nor was he, perhaps, +altogether conscious of his motive in failing to pay the aged senator +the honour of accompanying him, at least so far as the gates of the +Temple of Concord. Sounds came to his ears from the apartments above: +the trampling of feet and bustle of preparation that told of Velo's +delivery of his patron's commands. Then a woman's laugh rang through +the passage that led back to the garden of the peristyle. + +Sergius rose and turned, just as a girl sprang out into the atrium, +looking back with a laughing challenge to some one who seemed to pursue +her, but who hesitated to issue from the protecting darkness. + +"What do you fear, Minutia," she cried. "My father and Caius have +gone, and there is no one--oh!" + +Suddenly she became conscious of Sergius' presence, and her olive +cheeks flushed to a rich crimson. Then she faced him with an air of +pretty defiance and went on:-- + +"No one here but Lucius Sergius Fidenas, who should have business +elsewhere." + +Sergius said nothing, but continued to stand with eyes fixed +thoughtfully upon her face. + +Her figure was tall, slender, and very graceful, her hair and eyes were +dark, and her features delicate and perfectly moulded. Over all was +now an expression of hoydenish mirth that bespoke the complete +forgetfulness of serious things that only comes to young girls. His +attentive silence seemed at last to disturb her. An annoyed look drove +the smile from her lips, and, with an almost imperceptible side motion +of her small head, she went on:-- + +"Surely Lucius Sergius Fidenas has not allowed my father to go to the +Senate House with only Caius to attend him! Lucius respects my father +too much for that--and too disinterestedly. It is an even more serious +omission than his failure to attend the consul at Trasimenus--" + +Sergius' eyes blazed at the taunt, and, struggling with the answer that +rose to his lips, he said nothing for fear he might say too much. + +The girl watched him closely. Her mirth returned a little at the sight +of his confusion, and, with her mirth, came something of mercy. + +"Oh, to be sure, his wound. I almost forgot that. Tell me, my brave +Lucius, did the Gauls bite hard when they caught you in the woods and +drove you and my brave uncle to Tanes? How funny for naked Gauls to +ambush Roman legionaries and chase them home! Father has not spoken to +Uncle Cneus since. He says it was his duty to have remained on the +field, and I suppose he thinks it was yours, too, instead of running +away like a fox to be shut up in his hole." + +Sergius had recovered his composure now, but his brow was clouded. + +"You are as cruel as ever, Marcia," he said. "And yet I know you have +heard that it was the men of my maniple who carried me away, senseless +from the blow of a dead man." + +"Oh, you _did_ kill him. I remember now," she resumed, with some +display of interest. "You had run him through, had you not? and he +just let his big sword drop on your head. I got Caius to show me about +it, and I was the Gaul. Caius did not stab me, but I let the stick +fall pretty hard, and Caius had a sore head for two days. I meant it +for you, because you are trying to make an old woman of me when I am +hardly a girl." + +"Marcia--" began Lucius; but she raised her hand warningly and went +on:-- + +"Do you want me to tell you why my father will not let you marry me +now? There are two reasons. One because I don't want him to, and +another because he thinks you must do something great to wipe out the +stain of a Roman centurion's even being _carried_ away before the +Gauls." + +"That will be an easy task, judging by the news we receive each day. I +wish I felt as certain of the safety of the Republic as I am that my +honour shall be satisfactorily vindicated." + +He spoke bitterly, but she went on without taking note of his meaning. + +"These are auspicious words, my Lucius. You will regain your honour; +father will once more receive you into his favour, and, by that time, I +shall doubtless be old enough to marry,--perhaps too old,--but, no, I +must not wait so long as that. Perhaps I shall have married some one +else by the time you are worthy of my favour." + +"More probably I shall have ceased to care for the favour of living men +and women." + +"Truly? And you think you will have to die? Perhaps you will be a +Decius Mus, and stand on the javelin and wear the Cincture Gabinus; and +then I shall mourn for you and hang so many garlands on your tomb that +all the shades of your friends will be mad with jealousy--" + +"Marcia, is it possible for you to be serious?" + +He was pale with suppressed passion, and, as he spoke, he stepped +forward and laid his hand upon her wrist. + +She sprang back and half raised a light staff she carried, while her +face flushed crimson. + +"I will be more serious than will please you," she said, "if you please +me as little as you do now. Learn, I am not your wife that you should +seek to restrain me, and it is quite possible that I never shall be." + +"You speak truly," he said; "it is quite possible that no woman shall +be a new mother to the house of Fidenas--that our name shall die in me. +So be it; and may the gods only avert the evils that threaten the +Republic, nor look upon one of the race of the Trojan Segestes as an +unworthy offering." + +Bending his head in respectful salutation, he turned toward the +entrance hall. + +Marcia stood silent beside the fountain, and her face clouded with +thought. The sound of her lover's footsteps grew fainter and fainter. +She started forward as if to follow him. Then she stopped and +listened. The noise of the street had drowned their echoes; the door +had creaked twice on its pivots. He was gone. Then she called, +"Lucius!" but there was no answer. Her eyes drooped with a little +frown of regret, but in a moment she turned away laughing. + +"Never mind. He cannot do anything very desperate yet, and I will +treat him better next time--perhaps." + + + + +III. + +PARTING. + +The ensuing days were pregnant with rumour and action. The waves of +terror and despair that lashed over the city, as blow after blow fell, +had now receded. The white banner, that was always lowered at the +approach of an enemy, still spread its undulating folds above +Janiculum; the crops and fruit trees and vines smiled upon the +hillsides; the flocks and herds browsed peacefully along the Campagna +with never a Numidian pillager to disturb their serenity; and, amid +all, there was no rumour of allied gates opened to receive the invader, +no welcome from the Italians whom he had striven to conciliate. +Courage returned, and with courage firmness, and with firmness +confidence to endure and dare and do, so long as invaders presumed to +set foot upon the heritage of Rome. + +How far this new confidence was born of the news that the Carthaginian +was turning aside to the west, through Umbria and Picenum, how far by +the rumour that Spoletum had closed her gates and repulsed his +vanguard, or how far by wrath at the tales of ravage and the numberless +murders of Roman citizens that marked his line of march, it would be +difficult to apportion. + +However these, the city was now seething with energetic preparation. +The Senate sat daily and into each night. No word of peace was +uttered--all was war and revenge. Quintus Fabius Maximus was elected +pro-dictator by a vote of the Comitia--not dictator, because that could +only be done through appointment by the surviving consul, then absent +in Gaul--or none knew where. By the same power, and in order to +appease the commons irritated by criticisms of Flaminius, Marcus +Minutius Rufus was elected master of the horse. Nor were the gods +neglected. Their stimulating influence was invoked by the dictator to +inspire the people with confidence, while he soothed them with the +intimation that Flaminius had failed rather through overcourage and +neglect of divine things than through mere plebeian temerity and +ignorance. Fabius took care to impress it upon all that he himself +would take full warning from the lesson. He moved that the Sibylline +books should be consulted, and the Senate promptly acted upon the +motion. These directed that a holy spring be proclaimed forthwith; +that every animal fit for sacrifice, and born between the Kalends of +March and May throughout all Italy, should be offered to Jupiter. +Votive games were decided upon, couches were set by the judges, whereon +the twelve gods should feast in splendour, temples were vowed, to Venus +Erycina by the dictator himself, to Mens by Titus Otacilius, the +praetor. + +But with all, and, as Fabius put it, that the immortal gods should not +be overburdened with the petty affairs of mortals, every care that +human prudence and warcraft could suggest was taken. Walls and towers +were strengthened, and bridges were broken down; the inhabitants of +open towns were driven into places of security, and their houses and +crops destroyed. Amid all, the rumour came that Servilius was +hastening back from Gaul; then, that he was close at hand, and, +finally, Fabius set out to meet him, sending orders in advance that the +consul should come without lictors, so that the dignity of the +dictatorship might stand high before the people. And when Servilius +had come, in all respects as commanded, then he, the consul, after +first delivering up his legions which he had left at Ariminum, was +ordered to Ostia and the fleet to keep watch and ward over the Italian +coast and to protect the corn ships. So all the armies of the Republic +went to the pro-dictator, together with authority to raise such more as +he should consider needful; two new legions in the place of those dead +on the shores of Trasimenus, and some thousands of poorer citizens from +the tribes, to man the quinqueremes of Servilius and the walls of Rome. + +Amid these days of bustle and preparation, Sergius had found little +difficulty in keeping his footsteps from Marcia's threshold. After the +first grief of the conviction that she did not love him, pride came to +his rescue. Should he, the head of the noblest house of the noble +Sergian gens, should he abase himself and submit to scornful words even +from a daughter of Torquatus? or, yet, should he, as a man, desire to +bear the torch before an unwilling bride? These were simple questions, +and there was but one word that could answer them; so Sergius struggled +to put Marcia from his heart, until he flattered himself that the +difficult task had at last been accomplished. + +During this internal struggle, there came, also, to help him, word that +he had been named as one of the military tribunes in the new Fourth +Legion, and, his wound being now almost well, he threw himself headlong +into the work of the levy and of exercising his men, striving to bring +them to such a degree of efficiency as might win honour for himself and +advantage to the Republic. Now and again twinges of the old heart-pain +would rack him, but he obstinately attributed all depression and +melancholy to the inferior quality, both physically and socially, of +many of the new levies, and to his misgivings as to the account they +would render of themselves when confronted by the veterans of Hannibal. + +At last the day of marching arrived, and with it the greatest struggle +of all. Suddenly a suspicion awoke within him, whispering that the +task he had set for himself was but poorly done; that the image of +Marcia still smiled unbanished above the altar of his heart; and, with +all his pride and strength, this suspicion of his weakness was, oddly +enough, a source of positive exultation. Caius had been with him +through much of his work, for Caius served in the same legion. It was +evident, however, that the young man had received strict orders on one +subject; for, in all their talks, the name of Marcia never passed his +lips. This was unlike Caius, who was thought by many to be given to +overmuch speaking, and, for that reason, it irritated Sergius the more, +who would sooner have cut away his hand than questioned his friend +concerning his sister. Thus the two men, illogically but humanly +enough, continued to grow apart, until, with never a thought but of +friendliness, their intercourse became limited, through sheer +embarrassment, to the commonplaces of fellow-soldiers who held light +acquaintance with each other's names and faces. + +As the hour drew near, the city bubbled with excitement, and the altars +of the gods reeked with unnumbered victims. Especially invoked were +Castor, Fortune, Liberty, and Hope, but, above all, the mighty trinity +of the Capitol. Lest the pang of so great a parting with men who were +about to encounter such grave dangers might sap the courage of those +remaining, and thence that of the new levies, the dictator had wisely +decreed that the army should assemble at Tibur. So it happened that +there was none to go now save himself and a small escort of cavalry, +five turmae, at the head of which was Sergius. With these went Rome's +last hope: the cast behind which lay only ruin, but for the averting +favour of the gods. + +At midday the fasces would be carried forth, and it lacked but an hour +of the time. Sergius had prepared everything; his men were ready to +mount at the blast of the trumpet, and his household was set in order +against the absence of its master. He was standing within the Viminal +Gate, while an attendant held his horse close by and a little apart +from the crowds of weeping women who surrounded the soldiers of the +dictator's escort. Suddenly he felt some one pluck him by the cloak, +and turned quickly to see a young woman in the single tunic of a slave. +Her dress, however, was of finer texture than that worn by most of her +class, and seemed to bespeak a rich mistress and especial favour. She +stood with her finger to her lips, her eyes great with the importance +of her mission. + +"My mistress, the Lady Marcia, orders that you come and bid her +farewell," she whispered hurriedly. + +Then she darted away among the crowd, before the young tribune could +make answer to an invitation so oddly worded. + +His first impulse was to show the Lady Marcia that he was not to be +dismissed and sent for--much less ordered back at the caprice of a +girl. His next was to humour the whim of a child, and his third was to +obey humbly and thankfully, without a thought but of Marcia's beauty +and his own good fortune. + +A word to his slave and another to his horse, whereat the former loosed +the bridle, and the latter knelt for his master. Then came a wild +gallop across the crest of the Viminal Hill, through the ill-omened +street where the wicked Tullia had driven over her father's corpse, +into the Forum, and out up the New Way to the house of Torquatus. + +Throwing his rein to the porter, Sergius entered the court of the +atrium, vacant and resounding to the hurried tread of his cothurni. +Pausing for a moment and hesitating to penetrate farther into the +house, he became aware that the porter had followed him. Like most of +his class, he was a man considerably past middle life, and thus +considered suited to the comparative ease and responsibility of his +position. With a freedom and garrulity born of long service, he +began:-- + +"It was a word I was commanded to deliver to the most noble Sergius, +and I doubt not it would have been well and truly delivered, but for +his springing from his horse so quickly and rushing past me. It is +possible that I might have come to him sooner had he not left me to +take care of the animal, and it needed time to summon the groom, whose +duty such work is. Therefore--" + +"By Hercules, man, give me the message! Do you think I can listen all +day to your gabbling?" cried the soldier, furious with impatience. + +A faint laugh seemed to come from somewhere beyond the hallway. + +"I was about to say, most noble lord," pursued the porter, hardly +ruffled by the outburst; "and I trust you will pardon me if I dallied +over-much; but--" + +Sergius raised his hand. Then, thinking better of the blow, he seized +the man by the throat. + +"Perhaps I can shake the words out like dice from a box. Now for the +Venus cast!" he cried, suiting the action to the speech. + +"Are you making trial of your strength that you may break more readily +into Carthaginian houses? Remember it is soldiers with whom you are to +contend." + +Sergius turned quickly, to see Marcia herself standing at the entrance +to the hall. In her eyes, on her lips, was malicious laughter; but a +little red spot on either cheek seemed to tell of some stronger feeling +behind. He had released the porter so quickly that the latter +staggered back almost into the fountain, and Marcia smiled. + +"I think I have been taking a great deal of trouble for the sake of a +very discourteous person," she said. "I sent Minutia to tell a certain +soldier that I am willing to bid him farewell, despite his +unworthiness, and he comes and nearly strangles poor old Rhetus for +trying to say that I was awaiting him in the peristyle." + +"Rhetus' attempt was not very successful, and my time was short," said +Sergius, growing alternately red and pale. + +"And so you thought to hasten his speech by closing his throat? Oh! +you are a wise man--a very logical man. They should have made _you_ +dictator, so that you could save Italy by surrendering Rome." + +"Is it to say such things that you sent for me?" asked Sergius, after a +pause during which he struggled against embarrassment and wrath. + +"Surely not, for how could I know that you were going to behave so +outrageously? If you will follow me, we will go into the peristyle." + +She turned back through the passage, and Sergius followed, issuing a +moment later into a large, cloister-like court, open in the middle, and +decorated with flowers and shrubs. Four rows of columns, half plain, +half fluted, supported the shed roof that protected the frescoes. +These covered three of the walls. On the back was a garden scene so +painted as to seem like a continuation of the court itself into the far +distance; on the right was the combat between Aeneas and Turnus, and on +the left a representation of the first Torquatus despoiling the slain +Gaul of the trophy from which the family took its name. + +"And now I will tell you why I sent." + +She had seated herself in a marble chair with wolf heads carved on the +arms, and her face had grown grave and thoughtful. + +"It was to tell you a dream--a dream of you that I had last night." + +Her cheek flushed, and Sergius' eyes sparkled. + +"You dreamt of _me_?" he said in a low voice. He half raised his arms +and came nearer; but she held up one hand in the old imperious manner. + +"If you please, I have not sent for you that you should grow +presumptuous, because I was unmaidenly enough to dream of so badly +behaved a person as yourself. It--it was because it--I thought you +should know, so that the omen might be expiated." + +Sergius had halted and was standing still. His lip curled slightly. + +"I dreamt," she went on, after a short pause, "that there was a wide +plain with mountains about it and a river running through; and it was +all heaped up with dead men--thousands upon thousands--stripped of arms +and clothing, and the air was gray with vultures, and the wolves and +foxes were calling to each other back among the hills. And I was very +sad and walked daintily so that my sandals and gown might not be +splashed with the blood that curdled in pools all about. Suddenly I +came to a heap of slain whereon _you_ were lying, with a long javelin +through your body. So I screamed and awoke--" + +"Surely, then, you felt sorrow," cried Sergius, who had followed the +narrative with deep interest, but who seemed to consider nothing of it +save the concern she had shown at his death. + +"I--I," she began; and then, as if angry with herself at the betrayal +of feeling and of her embarrassment, she burst out; "I did not send, +foolish one, that you should consider _me_. Look rather to yourself." + +But Sergius was full of the joy of his own thoughts. + +"That I shall do, my Marcia, by setting my mind upon things that are +better than myself--the Republic--you--" + +"Ah, but the omen?" + +"I shall put it aside together with the other: that you have called me +back from the march; and I shall consider both well expiated by the +knowledge that I am not as nothing to you." + +Her face grew pale, and she half rose from the chair. + +"Truly, I did not think about calling you back. It is terrible--all +this--and it is my doing--" + +"Then, if you wish, I shall lay it up against you," cried he, gayly, +"unless you promise to be Caia in my house--" + +"You are unfair to press me now and by such means." + +"But it must be now," exclaimed the young man, springing forward and +trying to catch her in his arms. "Do you not see I must leave you at +once? Shall it be without a promise?" + +The blush had turned again to little anger spots, as she evaded him. + +"Very well," she said slowly. "I will be Caia where thou art Caius--" + +Sergius' face shone with exultation, and his lips parted. + +"I will be Caia," she resumed, "upon the day when Orcus sends back the +dead from Acheron." + +His expression of joy faded, and indignation took its place. Surely +this was carrying light speech too far--and at such a time. Suddenly +he realized that the dictator might already have ridden on, and +disgrace have fallen upon a Sergius at the very beginning of the +campaign. + +"So be it! I accept that omen--with the others," he cried sternly, +and, turning, strode out through the atrium, bounded upon his horse, +and dashed headlong down the street, before Marcia was fairly aware +that he had gone from her presence. + + + + +IV. + +FABIUS. + +Sergius rode back to his men, deeply wounded in love and pride. He +tried to excuse Marcia for her treatment of him, on the score of her +youth and of youth's thoughtlessness; he blamed himself for his +abruptness and his lack of knowledge of women--failings that had +perhaps turned an impending victory into the defeat that now oppressed +him. Worst of all, there was no hope to remedy his or her fault. A +dangerous campaign lay before him, and the omens--but pshaw! _he_ was +not one of the rabble, to tremble at a flight of birds from the west or +an ox with a bad liver. He had always admired the spirit of that old +sceptic, Claudius, who had drowned the chickens off Drepana, though he +admitted the faulty judgment in failing to realize the effect of such a +defiance upon ignorant seamen and marines: the hierarchy was necessary +for the State; if only to keep fools in order, but for a man of family +and education--well, he smiled. It provoked him, amid all his +disbelief, that he could not help preferring that those same omens had +been more favourable. Pride, pride was his last and truest safeguard. +He, a descendant of the companion of Aeneas, to fear the Carthaginian +sword! he, a Roman noble, about to face death for his country, to waste +his thoughts upon a silly girl who chose to flout him! + +Then the long clarions of the cavalry rang out, and the horsemen ran to +their steeds. Down the slope of the Viminal rode the dictator: before +him went the twenty-four axes, each in its bundle of staves, their +bearers robed in military cloaks of purple cloth; behind came a small +troop of illustrious Romans--his legati, his staff, nominated by him +and sanctioned by the Senate for their fame and skill in war; also such +senators as had elected, by way of personal compliment, to ride with +the general and to partake as volunteers in whatever share of the war +he might set for them. + +Quintus Fabius Maximus seemed a man just passing the prime of life. +His figure, as he sat his horse, was squat rather than tall, though +this appearance might be due, in a measure, to the great breadth of his +shoulders; altogether his frame seemed one better adapted to feats of +strength and endurance than for those of agility. The face, with its +grizzled hair and beard, both cut short, suited well the figure that +bore it. Dignity, firmness, and kindliness were in its strong and +rugged outlines, with less, perhaps, of the pride of race and rank than +might have been looked for in the head of the great family whose name +he bore--he who was now twice dictator of the destinies of Rome. For +dress, his purple cloak, similar to those of his lictors, hung loosely +from his shoulders to below his knees, and, opening in front, disclosed +a corselet of leather overlaid with metal across chest and abdomen, and +embossed with bronze designs of ancient pattern and workmanship. The +hem of the white tunic showed below the leathern pendants that hung a +foot down from his girdle; the greaves were ornamented at the knees +with lions' heads; an armour-bearer carried his master's bronze helmet +with its crest of divergent red plumes. + +Such was the man upon whom Rome now depended for her saving--"for +victory," dreamed such of the unthinking as had recovered from their +terror; "for time, time, time," reasoned the man with the deep-set, +gray eyes upon whom they had pinned their faith. + +Hardly a stride behind him rode Marcus Minucius Rufus, tall and +well-built, with bold, coarse features and fierce, roving eyes. His +red hair bristled from his brow, and he seemed to restrain with +difficulty either his steed or himself from darting forward into the +lead. + +"Yonder is the sword of the Republic," said one of Sergius' men, as the +master-of-the-horse rode by the escort; but the man to whom he said +it--an old soldier of the Spanish wars--only shrugged his shoulders. A +moment later he grunted in reply:-- + +"Like enough; but it is a shield that the Republic needs most of all." + +Then the clarion summoned them to fall in behind the dictator's +company, and the troop rode out from the gate--out into the broad +plain--away from the protecting walls fluctuant with waving stoles, and +from which tear-dimmed eyes strove to follow them among the villas, +farms, and orchards of the country-side--away from the Forum, from the +sacred fig tree and the black stone of Romulus--away from the divine +triad that kept guard over the Capitol. Beyond lay the Alban +Mountains, and, beyond these,--no one knew where,--the strange dangers +that awaited them: fierce Spaniards with slender blades as red as the +crimson borders of their white coats; wild Numidian riders that always +fell upon the rear of Rome's battle; serried phalanges of Africans, +veterans of fifty wars; naked Gauls with swords that lopped off a limb +at every stroke; Balearic slingers whose bullets spattered one's brains +over the ground; Cretans whose arrows could dent an aes at a hundred +yards; and above all, over all, the great mind, the unswerving, +unrelenting purpose that had blended all these elements into one +terrible engine of destruction to move and smite and burn and ravage at +the touch of a man's will. + +The cavalry rode two and two, thinking of such things; picked men, +equipped in the new Greek fashion with breastplate, stout buckler, and +strong spear pointed at both ends. What thoughts held the mind of the +general, none could fathom. With head slightly inclined he seemed to +study, now the ribbons woven in his horse's mane, now the small, +sensitive ears that pricked backward and forward, as the Tiburtine Way +flowed sluggishly beneath. As for Minucius, he alone seemed hopeful +and unimpressed by the dangers that menaced. He glided here and there, +reining his horse beside this senator or that lieutenant to utter a +word of the safety assured to Rome and of the ruin that hung over the +invader, or even calling back to the foremost of the escort some rough +badinage upon their gloomy looks; for Minucius was a man of the people, +scorning patrician pride of race, and wishing it known that, however +high his rank, he held himself no whit better than any potter of the +Aventine or weaver of the Suburra. + +So, riding, thinking, talking, they reached Tibur, where the new levies +lay encamped. + +Thence began the march of the army--a long, weary march to strike the +line of the Carthaginian devastators; and, as it rolled onward, the +stream of war gathered volume. At Daunia they were joined by the +legions of Servilius that had marched down from Ariminum; and, at every +point, contingents of the allies poured in, until even the most timid +began to believe it impossible that disaster could befall, and grew +first confident, then defiant, then boastful. + +To the mind of the dictator himself, however, came no such change. He +alone knew the danger, he alone knew the value of the force with which +he must meet it--soldiers in whose minds, despite all their present +spirit, lingered the tradition of defeat; raw levies not yet truly +confident of their officers or themselves, however much the sight of +their numbers and their brave show might blind them to the fact that +there was another side to the war. + +And now rumours began to reach them of the enemy. He was at Praetutia, +at Hadriana, at Marrucina, at Frentana! He had set out toward Iapygia! +he had reached Luceria! and everywhere the country was a garden before +him and a desert behind. Only one gleam of light shone through the +darkness,--the Apulians submitted to ravage, but they refused to save +their lands by joining fortunes with the invaders. + +At last came the day of trial. "The enemy was at hand." Scouts poured +in with news of foraging parties, of masses of troops on the march; and +at Aecae the dictator ordered the camp to be pitched and fortified in +the order that Roman discipline prescribed, with rampart and ditch and +stakes--a city in embryo. + +Now it was that the boasters must stand by their boasts. + +Scarcely had the morning broke, when the distant mist of the plain +seemed to sparkle with myriads of glittering points--seemed to thicken +and become dense with clouds of dust. Mingled noises came to the ears +of the waking legions,--the neighing of horses, the inarticulate murmur +of a multitude, the dull rumble of marching men, the ring of arms and +accoutrements. + +Then came the order from the praetorium,--not to advance the standards, +but to man the rampart and to repel. Such was not the custom of +Rome--to refuse battle amid the ravaged lands of her allies. Had the +heart of the dictator grown cold? Forthwith the pale cheeks of the +boasters flushed again; lips that had been compressed, before the +terrors they had so rashly invoked, parted in wonder and complaint; the +mist rose, and the sun pierced through the settling dust. There stood +the enemy, drawn up in order of battle across the plain, and waiting; +too far away for the Romans to make out their form or equipment--just a +long, dense array that seemed dark or light in spots. Now and again a +trumpet rang out its distant note of defiance; now and again some +portion of the line seemed to manoeuvre or change front, as if to tempt +attack, while from time to time a flurry of horsemen--dark-skinned +riders, bending low upon the necks of wiry little steeds and urging +them with shrill, barbarous cries--swept almost up to the ditch, and +brandished their darts, making obscene gestures and shouting words that +brought the blood to the faces of the garrison, though they understood +not the tongue that uttered them. + +A circle of officers surrounded the dictator's tent. Some were silent +and shamefaced; some were vociferous of their desire to be allowed to +go forth and fight, or, at least, to lead out the cavalry to chastise +the insolence of slaves and barbarians; all were wondering and +dissatisfied. Few, however, ventured to express their full thoughts. +There was a something in the very mildness of the general that +discouraged too direct criticism. Only Minucius, presuming, perhaps on +his position of second in command, perhaps on his contempt for the +great houses, sought the dictator's presence and spoke as if half to +him, half to the company of officers. Even his first words but thinly +veiled his feelings. + +"The enemy await us in line of battle, my master, but I do not see the +red flag above your tent. Is it your will that the standards be +advanced?" + +"No, Marcus, it is not my will, or the signal would have been +displayed," said Fabius, calmly. + +"The troops are eager to be led out; the enemy insult us up to the very +ditch. Italy is wasted," went on Minucius; but, as if slightly cowed +by the deep, gray eyes, his tone seemed less aggressive. + +Fabius paused a moment, before answering, and glanced around upon the +lowering faces of legates and tribunes. Then he said:-- + +"It is proper, Quirites, that I should say something to you of my +plans. Our men are new--untried. Those that have seen service have +seen defeat. The enemy are flushed with victory, full of confidence in +themselves and their general, well seasoned in battle. Has the +Republic a new army if this be lost? But happily there is another side +to the picture. We are in our own lands. Our supplies are +inexhaustible; _we_ receive; _they_ must take. We shall wear them out +in skirmishes, cut off their foragers--men whom they cannot replace, +while we replace our losses daily and season ourselves in battle and +grow to see that even Carthaginians are not immortal." + +There was a moment of silence. Then Minucius spoke again. + +"And, while we pursue this prudent policy, what becomes of the spirit +of our men who see that their general dares not face the enemy? What +becomes of the allies who see their fields wasted and cities burned, +while Rome lies silent in her camps and offers no succour?" + +Fabius' brow clouded, but he spoke even more mildly than before. + +"There is much of truth in what you say Marcus; but I am convinced that +there is less danger in such risks than in tempting the fate of +Flaminius; and there are many compensations, together with certain +victory in the end." + +And then the master-of-the-horse lost control of his temper; his voice +rose, and he cried out:-- + +"You are general and you command, but you shall hear me when I say that +I had rather have perished bravely with a Flaminius than live to +conquer in such cowardly fashion with a Fabius." + +A murmur of half-uttered applause ran around the circle, but Fabius did +not seem to hear it. He eyed his lieutenant calmly for an instant. +Then he said:-- + +"You speak truth, Marcus, when you say that I am general;" and, turning +his back upon Minucius, he passed through the line of officers, as they +fell aside to give him way, and proceeded slowly toward the praetorian +gate. + +Here, among the soldiers, discontent with the dictator's policy was as +strong as it had been in the praetorium, while its expression was less +governed by the amenities of rank. Roman discipline, however severe as +to the acts of the legionary, put very few restrictions upon his +speech; and the general, as he watched from the rampart the lines and +movements of the enemy, heard many comments no less uncomplimentary +than those of his master-of-the-horse, and couched in language almost +as coarse as that of the Numidians themselves. It seemed as if the +foul words of the barbarians were passed on thus to the man held +responsible for Romans being compelled to listen to such insults. + +Curiously enough, the centurions and under officers appeared to be the +only ones not hostile to Fabius' policy. These were silent or even +made some efforts to restrain the ribaldry of their men. + +As for the general himself, no one could have appeared less conscious +of the storm his orders had provoked. His eyes were still fixed upon +the distant array, and when, as the sun almost touched the meridian, +Lucius Sergius approached with despatches just arrived from Rome, he +was compelled to speak twice before the other was aware of his +presence. Then the dictator turned quickly, and, pointing to the +Carthaginians, exclaimed:-- + +"See! they are withdrawing. Do you not note how thin the centre grows? +Ah! I shall teach them new lessons of war--new lessons. They will find +in me no Flaminius, to let my enemy choose the day and field of battle." + +Leaving the ramparts, they walked back toward the praetorium, Fabius +breaking the seals and reading the letters as he walked. When they +reached the tent, he stood still for a moment and seemed to study the +face of the young tribune who had followed, a half pace behind, to +receive any answer or order that might be forthcoming. + +"What is your opinion of my refusing battle?" he asked suddenly, after +a short silence. + +Sergius turned crimson, but he answered quickly:-- + +"I have learned to trust in my general until such time as I know him to +be unworthy of trust." + +Fabius smiled. + +"Some of your colleagues appear to have already arrived at the latter +conclusion," he said. Then, after a pause, he went on: "After all, it +is the judgment of the centurions that counts for most. Our legates +and tribunes feel disgraced by our refusing a challenge; they may be +sneered at for _that_, but who would blame _them_ for the defeat that +might follow its acceptance. The common soldier knows only his rage +against the enemy, sees his comrades about him furious for battle, and +comprehends nothing of its dangers. It is the centurions, our +veterans, who realize the truth: the worth of their own men as measured +against those of the enemy; nor are they puffed up with foolish pride +of rank. You observe, sir, that the centurions are with me." + +Sergius bowed. + +"Now mark well what will happen," pursued Fabius. "Hannibal will +retreat to his camp; he will break camp and march off during the night. +He must have forage, and he cannot scatter his forces while I am near. +He will escape, and I shall let him, rather than risk the army in a +night battle; but I shall hang close as the father-wolf to the stag's +haunch, keeping nevertheless to the high ground, where his cavalry +cannot trouble me. There will be need of good horsemen who shall cling +yet closer and advise me of his movements." + +Sergius' eyes flashed with eagerness, but he said nothing. + +"You will attend to this service," continued Fabius, not seeming to +regard the young officer's exultation. "Take the other five turmae of +your legion--not those of the escort. You must have light cavalry to +cope with the Numidians, and your Greek horsemen are too heavily +equipped. Assemble your men, watch the enemy, follow him when he +marches tonight, cut off his stragglers, and send such words to me as +you consider necessary. This shall be your reward for trusting greater +things to your general." + +Turning, he entered the tent, before the tribune could express his +thanks. + +Deeply impressed by the favour and confidence of the dictator, Sergius +hurried away to his quarters, and, sending for Marcus Decius, the +decurion who had told the news of Trasimenus to the crowd of the Forum, +he directed him to see that the horses were fed and the men in +readiness for a night march. Then he resigned himself to sleep and +dreams of a certain pictured peristyle on the Palatine Hill,--a +peristyle wherein a maid sat spinning by a fountain and thinking--of +what? Perhaps of him--for he was only dreaming, and maidens do not +always think as men dream. + + + + +V. + +TEMPTATION. + +The night was already far spent, and the Roman camp slept on, secure in +all its grim array; silent, but for the tread of the patrols, as they +paced the streets and exchanged the watchword, post with post, or but +for the clang of sword upon greave, or shield against cuirass, as some +sentry at gate, rampart or praetorium shifted his arms in weary waiting +for the day. + +Far up in the heavens the moon shone silvery and serene, while here and +there upon the plain below swaying points of light seemed to move, +flicker, go out, and rekindle again. No Roman watcher but knew well +that play of moonlight upon the heads of the reedlike spears with which +the ancient cavalry of the legion were equipped--weapons which, +together with their ox-hide bucklers, were being gradually superseded +by the heavier Greek accoutrements. Yes, and had not the word passed +from the guard at the praetorian gate, how a tribune and five turmae of +the fourth legion had ridden out on the service of the dictator? + +Earlier in the night, those who listened closely had heard a low hum +that seemed to pervade the air, rising and falling like the dull glow +in the west that told of the fluctuant watch-fires of the hostile camp. +Now the noises had died away, as in the distance, and the light that +had flashed up a few hours since hardly tinted the clouds. It is only +the old soldier who can read the signs of a decamping foe, who knows +how the fagots must be heaped at the moment of departure, so that the +deserted fires may burn until the morning, whose quick ear catches and +recognizes the indefinite noises of a host moving in secret. All these +things were, and old campaigners among the legionaries at the gate had +read them aright. Messenger after messenger hurried to the praetorium, +and returned with word that the dictator slept, "having taken all +needed measures," and how the master-of-the-horse paced up and down +before his tent, grinding his teeth, clenching his hands, and muttering +curses upon patrician cowardice and imbecility. + +Meanwhile, Lucius Sergius rode on through the night, with Marcus Decius +at his side, and the troop of horse trailing out across the plain +behind them. + +"It is silent, master," said the decurion, but his attitude, as he +leaned forward over his horse's neck, was rather of one trying to smell +than to listen. "The pulse-eaters sleep deeply." He watched Sergius +from under half-closed lids, waiting to be contradicted, that he might +measure his officer's warcraft. + +Sergius smiled. "Perhaps they are even wider awake than ourselves," he +said, drawing rein. Then, as the other nodded several times in +satisfied acquiescence, he brought his horse to his haunches a stride +beyond, and added: "It was the dictator who said we should find their +lair empty, and, though I do not question his judgment, it will be well +to send on a few who shall spy out the fact, and see whether there be +not Numidians lurking among the huts." + +So, slowly and cautiously, they pushed forward again, with riders in +advance, until a shout gave notice that the way was indeed clear, and +they rode through the open gate of the rampart and along the silent +street of the deserted camp. + +Nothing was about them save dismantled huts, for the most part mere +burrows with roofs of interlaced boughs that were now smoking amid the +ashes of the fires. Not a sign of disorder, nor even of the rapidity +with which so great an army had been moved; not a scale of armour left +behind--only the insufferable stench of a barbarian camp, of offal and +refuse piled or scattered about, of dead beasts and of dead men--the +sick and wounded who had yielded to sword or disease during the last +few days. + +It was with a sense of relief that the cavalcade emerged from the +shadows of the huts and began to mount the rising ground beyond. The +moon, too, had grown faint, and the gray mists of the morning were +lying along the lower levels. Sounds, mingled and far ahead, told of +the presence of a marching host, and Sergius led his troop on a more +oblique course to gain the flank of the foe and lessen the chances of +detection and ambuscade. + +It was not stirring work for a soldier--the days that followed; never +attacking, always guarding against discovery and surprise, viewing +slaughter and devastation that duty and weakness alike made him +powerless to prevent or punish, sending courier after courier to his +general to tell of the enemies' march or of stragglers and foragers to +be crushed in the jaws of the army that enveloped the invader's rear. +Thus the war passed through Apulia, over the Apennines, down into the +old Samnite lands, past Beneventum that closed its gates and mourned +over its devastated fields, on across the Volturnus, descending at last +into the Falernian plain, the glory of Campania, the Paradise of +Italian wealth and luxury. + +During all these days Sergius had grown thinner and browner. Little +furrows had been ploughed between the eyes that must pierce every ridge +and thicket for the glint of javelins and the wild faces of the +bridleless riders of the desert. From time to time news of devastators +cut to pieces brought a fierce joy to his heart; from time to time he +dreamt he saw the eagles of the Republic hovering upon the heights +above, ready to stoop and strike and save the allied lands from trials +greater than they could bear; but of Marcia, scarce a waking thought. +Surely the man he now was had never reclined in peaceful halls where +women plied the distaff and talked about love, and of how Rabuleius, +the perfume-maker of the Suburra, had just received a new essence from +Arabia! That old life was all a dream, perhaps the memory of a former +existence, as the sage of Croton had taught. There was nothing real in +the world, in these days, but fear and suffering and humiliation and +revenge. Even duty had become a mere habit that should minister to +greater influences. + +And now it was worst of all. Campania was a conflagration from which +rose supplications and shrieks and groans, mingled with curses against +the cowardly ally that had left her to her fate. Still the legions +held to the high ground, and still the black pest of Numidia swept +hither and thither on its errand of murder and rapine. Even to Sergius +the plans of the dictator began to seem but "coined lead," as Marcus +Decius roughly put it. Of what avail was it that the pass at Tarracina +was blocked, that he had garrisoned Casilinum in the enemies' rear and +Cales upon the Latin Way, and that the sea and the Volturnus and the +steep hills with their guarded passes seemed to complete the line of +circumvallation? Could such bonds hold one so wise as Hannibal from +the rich cities of the plain? Unless Rome would advance her standards, +were not Sinuessa and Cumae, Puteoli and Neapolis, Nuceria and Teanum, +and, above all, Capua, left to fight their own battle against barbarian +insolence and barbarian power? What hope to starve out an enemy +established in such a region and amid such affluence! + +Then, too, there was less work now for Sergius, even such as it was. +The enemy, wheresoever he marched, was well in view from a dozen points +held by the dictator, and at last word came to the tribune that he +should join the camp near Casilinum. There, at least, he would have +companionship in shame, instead of seeming to command men and being +unwilling to lead them to fight for lands which the gods themselves had +deemed worthy of their contention. + +They were near Cales when the orders were brought. Could it be the +dictator's intention to give battle and avenge what he had failed to +save? By midday they were mounted and threading the forest paths that +led to their comrades--paths whence, from time to time, some vista in +the woods disclosed the plain below, with here and there a column of +smoke that made Sergius grind his teeth and clench his hands in +impotent rage. Suddenly he drew rein, for a man, dressed in the +coarse, gray tunic of a slave, had half run, half stumbled across his +way. An instant more, and the fellow was struggling in the grasp of +Decius, who had sprung to the ground. + +"What now, forkbearer! what now, delight of the scourges!" cried the +decurion. "Will you delay the march of a tribune of the Republic?" + +"Pity me, master, pity me and let me go!" cried the man, still striving +vainly to escape. "Surely they are close behind me--" + +"Who are behind you?" asked Sergius, sternly. "Speak and lie not, food +for Acheron!" + +"They who are burning the farm." + +Sergius' eyes glittered, and he leaned forward to catch the words, as +he began to gather their import. + +"Speak quickly, and you shall be safe," he said, in more reassuring +tones. "Whose farm is it that is burning? Loose him, Marcus." + +Released from the hands that held him, the fugitive seemed to waver for +a moment between speech and flight. Perhaps exhaustion turned the +balance, for, still panting for breath, he threw himself on his knees +before Sergius' bridle and gasped:-- + +"My master's farm--a veteran of the first war--a centurion--the +Numidians." + +"Where is it? How many are there?" + +The man pointed down the slope up which he had scrambled. + +"I did not note their numbers, lord. Perhaps a hundred--perhaps more." + +As he spoke, the sky began to brighten as with fire, and Sergius, +wheeling his horse, urged him downward toward the plain. Decius was by +his side in an instant, and behind them came the cavalry at a speed +that threatened to hurl them headlong to the foot of the rocky +declivity. Joy and fury shone on the faces of the men: only Marcus +Decius seemed troubled and abstracted. + +"We shall be with them soon, my Marcus," cried Sergius, gayly, and +then, noting the furrowed face of his first decurion: "Surely, +Trasimenus has not cooled your heart. Take courage. There is no water +here to chill you." + +Decius flushed through the deep bronze of his skin. + +"It is true that there is no water here, and blows might warm my blood. +It was the command of the dictator that I thought of." + +They had reached the level plain now. A cluster of burning buildings +hardly a mile ahead marked their goal. + +"And it is you, Marcus, who have been railing at those same commands?" + +"I am an old soldier, my master. I growl, but I obey." + +For answer, Sergius urged on his horse with knee and thong. Now they +could distinguish dark shapes gliding hither and thither around the +fires, and now they burst in upon a scene as of the orgies of demons. + +Utterly unsuspicious of danger, the marauders had taken no precautions. +Their wiry, little horses had been turned loose about the gardens, +while the riders murdered and pillaged and ravished and destroyed. The +worst was over now. Little remained of the buildings, save clay walls +covered with plaster; dead bodies were scattered here and there; the +women and such of the slaves as had not been slaughtered, together with +the farm stock and other things of value, were gathered beyond the +reach of the fires; while, bound high upon a rude cross before his own +threshold, the master of the farm writhed amid flames that shot upward +to lick his hands and face. + +Then, in an instant, the scene was changed: the Roman horsemen burst +in, and, frenzied by the spectacle before them, slew madly and fast. +Hither and thither they swept, wherever the dusky figures sought to +fly, and the thin, reed-like lances rose and plunged and rose again, +shivering and dripping, from the bodies of their victims. But for +their well-trained steeds, who came and knelt at their masters' calls, +not one of the desert horsemen could have escaped, and, as it was, a +mere dozen broke out from the carnage and scurried away, with the +avengers in close and relentless pursuit. Marcus Decius paused a +moment before the cross and studied the torn frame and blackened skin +of the man who hung there. Then, with a swift movement of his lance, +he transfixed the quivering body, and, hardly catching the "Jove bless +thee, comrade," and the sigh with which life escaped, he dashed on +after the pursuing squadrons. + + + + +VI. + +DISOBEDIENCE. + +That the chase was doomed to be a vain one seemed apparent. Once mounted +and urging on their steeds with the shrill, barbaric cries of the desert, +Hannibal's light horsemen were safe from all ordinary pursuit. One after +another of the Romans drew up his panting animal, and scarce half of +their turmae pounded on. + +Suddenly they saw the flying Numidians throw their horses upon their +haunches. A moment of indecision followed, and then, while several +darted off obliquely, the remainder, seven or eight in all, swung around +and charged straight at the legionaries. At their head rode a giant, +black as ebony save where gouts of red had splashed him with the hue of +terror. His frizzly hair was caught up high and ornamented with a +cluster of ostrich feathers, while with his right hand he drew javelin +after javelin from the sheaf he carried in his left, and launched them +with unerring aim at his former pursuers. Three had flown on their +errands, two had brought down a soldier each, and the third quivered in +the throat of Sergius' horse. Then, as the animal reared and went over, +carrying his rider with him, the assailant burst through the line, and in +a moment had gained the open plain beyond. Once more he was safe, safe +but for one short, thick-set rider,--Marcus Decius, first decurion of the +first turma, hastening to overtake his troop. + +Escape from such a pursuer was child's play for the Numidian; but the +fury of fight was on him, and, gnashing his white teeth, from which the +thick, black lips seemed to writhe away, he bent low amid his horse's +mane and, with an inarticulate cry, urged him straight at the veteran. +His javelins had all been expended in breaking through the Roman line, +and a short, heavy dagger was his only weapon. Nothing daunted, he came +on, evaded like a flash the thrust of Decius' spear, and hurled himself +upon him. It was the small buckler of the Roman that saved his life; the +dagger passed through the ox-hide, slightly gashing his arm, and, before +the barbarian could withdraw it, the impact of the horses in full career +had sent both men and animals to the plain in a floundering heap. Again +the Numidian was quicker, and, gaining his feet, he sprang, weaponless as +he was, upon the decurion still struggling to untangle himself from his +fallen horse. The buckler, with the African's knife thrust through it, +had rolled away, and the possession of Decius' sword, which hung in its +sheath upon his right thigh, became the object of the struggle. Perhaps +the strength of the men was not very unequal; but the Roman, hardly free +from his mount, was undermost and wounded, so that the result seemed +hardly doubtful. The Numidian's charger had risen to its feet, and +stood, with out-stretched neck, whinnying softly, as if sharing in the +excitement of the contest. Then the trampling of hoofs sounded in the +ears of the straining combatants. Decius felt his adversary make a +convulsive effort as if to free himself, and then a gush of something +warm came into the Roman's face, and his foe sank down upon him, limp and +helpless. With a last effort of his spent strength, he pushed the +twitching body aside, and, staggering to his feet, saw Sergius standing +beside him, with a dripping sword in his hand, and the bridle of Titus +Icilius', the flag-bearer's, horse thrown over his left arm. + +Remounting, they rode slowly back to their troop, and then the cause of +the strange boldness of the fugitives was disclosed. Advancing across +the plain directly in the path of their flight came four hundred of the +allied cavalry, whom the dictator had sent out to reconnoitre, and, +caught thus between two lines, the Numidians had, for the most part, +chosen to take their chances against the weaker force. Not one of the +marauders was alive, but they had sold their lives dearly; for a dozen of +the Romans also were dead, and a score more showed wounds that marked +this last spasm of barbarian frenzy. + +While the men talked together, Sergius sought the praefect of the new +detachment, a Hostilian of the family of Mancinus, whom he recalled among +the young hot-heads that formed the party of the master-of-the-horse, and +declaimed against the policy of Fabius as cowardly and base. He found +him in the best possible humour, laughing and making coarse jests amid a +circle of decurions and optios--as rude a Roman as marched with the +standards, yet able, when occasion demanded, to play the man of fashion +who had spent a year at Athens. The latter mood fell upon him when he +descried Sergius. He came forward to meet him. + +"Health to you, my Lucius!" he cried, "Surely the gods have held you in +especial favour this day. I am told you have cut up a few squadrons of +this African offal." + +"With your timely aid," replied Sergius, bowing. + +"I but made the hares double to your coursing," said Hostilius, +carelessly; "and they tell me you have won both the spolia opima and a +civic crown. That is a great deal for one day--and under a peaceful +dictator." + +Sergius flushed. + +"I shall not claim them," he said. "Doubtless, Decius would have both +slain the fellow and saved himself had I not come up--" + +"No modesty! no modesty!" cried Hostilius, gayly. "I assure you it is +even less Greek than Roman in these days. Lo! now, I myself will claim +both for you at Rome, if only to show that I do not grudge you your share +of the carrion. Perhaps such honours will not prejudice you in a certain +house on the Palatine," he added, slyly. "But come! you and I shall join +our forces and raid together. We have sent two hundred to Acheron since +we left the camp, and birds have been singing on our left all the +morning." + +"Where is the dictator now?" asked Sergius. + +"In his tent, of course," replied the other, scornfully. "And no one +cares where that may be." + +"And you?" + +"Oh! he was persuaded at last to risk a scouting party, and, at the +request of the brave Minucius, he gave the command to me with strict +injunctions to use only my eyes. Well, I have used them so sharply that +my hands, too, have been full," and Hostilius laughed. "There are some +five hundred of the cross-food that have evaded me thus far. We shall +catch them now, though, and, together, it will be easy for us to prevail." + +Sergius was silent. To make a dash from the heights in defence of allies +dying in his sight, was one thing; to deliberately join this +insubordinate in turning a reconnaissance into a raid, was another and +much more serious matter. + +The praefect noted his hesitation, and a slight frown chased the smile +from his lips. + +"Or perhaps you prefer to obey the old woman's orders," he added, "and +keep your couch warm. Well, our men and horses are fed by this time, and +I am off. If you are a Roman, I greet you to ride with me; if you fear +robbers or the axe that smote Titus Manlius, why, I will bid you farewell +and ride alone." + +"Where do you set your course?" queried Sergius, with a vague hope of at +least seeming to combine inclination with duty. + +"Toward the enemy," replied the other, shortly. "Does not the direction +please you?" and he turned to his horse. + +Sergius' brow clouded. His blood was hot with the conflict just +finished. Youth, courage--all combined to turn him from obedience; but +obedience bade fair to conquer, when Marcia's laugh rang in his ears, and +he could hear her gravely complimenting his prudence and discoursing on +the rare value of docility in a husband. Besides, what did it all +matter? Had he not said that he sought death? and, surely, the way it +came soonest was the best. + +Placing his hand upon his horse's withers, he vaulted upon its back, +before the animal had time to kneel, and a moment later was beside +Hostilius. + +"By Hercules!" exclaimed the latter; "I am glad you are here. Even in +these days of strange things, I would have found it difficult to imagine +that a Sergian could be a coward." + +"And now," cried Sergius, "you will only have to imagine him a fool. So +be it, and let the cost of his life pay for his folly." + +"Jupiter avert the omen!" exclaimed Hostilius, shuddering, and then, +turning to his trumpeter, he bade him give the signal for the march. + +It was a desolate country--the fair plains of Campania through which they +rode. Here and there a cluster of blackened ruins, here and there things +that were once men, fruit trees cut down, vines uprooted, corn-fields +reaped with the sword; while far away upon the horizon smoky columns +curled up to show that the work of devastation still went on. + +"May Mavers curse him--curse him forever!" cried Hostilius, grinding his +teeth in rage at each new manifestation of the enemy's handiwork. "Could +the most disastrous battle be worse than this?" + +Sergius was silent. In a way his feelings went out to meet those of his +companion; but the dictator had trusted him, and he had disobeyed, and, +for all his disobedience, his soldier's instinct told him that the +dictator was right. + +Hostilius eyed him sharply and suspiciously, as if trying to divine his +thoughts. + +"If you regret--" he began. + +Suddenly a decurion of the allies dashed up beside them. + +"Look!" he cried, pointing toward the east. "There is carrion for the +wolves." + +Both leaders turned at the words. + +Far out across the plain was what seemed at first sight like a clump of +dark foliage, save that it moved and changed shape too much. + +"Numidians!" exclaimed the decurion, following his finger with his +speech, while the veins in Hostilius' forehead began to swell and grow +dark. + +"The signal! Let it be given," he cried to his officer, and, turning, he +dug his knees into his horse's sides and galloped toward the distant +quarry. A moment later the cavalry wheeled at the trumpet call, and, in +some disorder but full of eagerness, began the pursuit of their leader. + +As for Sergius, he, too, gave order and rein, though more deliberately, +and his troop followed the cavalry of the allies in somewhat better +array. By his side galloped Decius with an expression hard to analyze +upon his weather-beaten face. + +Sergius glanced at the old soldier from time to time with a look of +inquiry and concern. At last he ventured to question his grim mentor. + +"Is it well or ill, Marcus?" + +"Ill for you that command, well for me who obey," growled the other, and +Sergius flushed and was silent. + +"Shall we catch them?" he asked, a few moments later, for the clump of +Numidians, who had sat motionless upon their horses until the Romans +covered half the intervening distance, had now wheeled for flight. + +"If they be too strong for us, we shall catch them," replied Decius. "It +is as they will." + +And now it became apparent that the marauders were far inferior in +numbers to the assailants, and that they recognized the fact; for flight +and pursuit began in earnest. Horses were urged to higher speed. At one +moment the Numidians seemed to be holding their distance; at another, the +Romans gained slightly but unmistakably. All order of detachments and +turmae was soon lost; Romans and allies, officers and men, were mingled +together in a straggling mass, with naught but the eagerness of the +riders and the speed of their animals to marshal them. Only Decius +continued to pound along, with his horse's nose at his tribune's elbow. +The thunder of many hundred hoofs rolled across the plain. + +"By Hercules! we shall do it!" cried Sergius, in whom ardour of the chase +had put to flight all sentiments of regret or doubt. "Do you not see we +are gaining?" + +"They ride silently yet," said Decius. "It is but knee-speed with them. +Wait till they cry out to their horses, and we shall see." + +Suddenly, as if to supplement the words, a single shrill cry, half +whistle, half scream, rose up ahead. Had they been closer, they might +have noted the pricking ears of the desert steeds; but this much they +saw:--one horse and rider darting out of the press, like arrow from bow, +and scurrying away over the plain as if their former gait had been but a +hand-gallop. + +An instant of misgiving came to some few of the Romans, who were not +blind to everything but the excitement of the moment, but they, like the +rest, only plied knee and thong the harder, and the episode of the single +rider was forgotten by all save Marcus Decius and Sergius. + +"It is a trap, master," said the former, with an inquiring glance at his +leader. + +Sergius bowed his head, and his face was troubled, as he replied:-- + +"I know it, my Marcus, but we cannot turn back now. I have accepted the +feast: therefore I must recline until my host gives the signal to rise. +I pray you pardon me." + +By a quick movement Decius urged his horse a stride ahead of the +tribune's, that he might the better hide his emotion; at the same time +growling:-- + +"I pardon you?--and for the chance of a blow at the scum? I thank you +many times." + +And now, from the plain ahead rose a low range of rolling hills over +which a light cloud seemed to hover. Was it the ascent that wearied the +horses of the Numidians? Surely the space between pursuers and pursued +was lessening rapidly, and Hostilius leaned far forward, shaking his +spear and calling upon his men for a renewed effort. + +"Now! now!" he cried. "See! they are spent! Up with them ere they top +the hill!" + +But the Numidians gained the sought-for ridge, if only by a few +spear-lengths' lead, and the cloud, now close ahead, hung so dense that +there were those who thought it the smoke of another farm. Decius' eyes +seemed set in a dazed stare. There was too much red in that cloud, and +yet it was not the red of fire, and it was too light and too thin for +smoke. He knew it; he had known it all along, but what did it matter? +The last Numidian had disappeared down the opposite slope--no! surely +they had turned again, and in a longer line--a thicker one; and the light +javelins and naked black bodies had become long, stout spears and +glittering corselets, while at their head rode a slender man with forked +beard, and his black eyes seemed to burn in his head like coals. So, +with one barbaric roar, the whole array poured down over the allied +cavalry, and these were like the dust of the trampled field. + + + + +VII. + +PUNISHMENT. + +Sergius hardly knew what was happening. He was conscious that the +stride of his horse had been checked by a dense mass of plunging +animals in front--a mass that grew more dense and more tangled with +every instant. Those behind were still endeavouring to press forward, +and those in front were hurled back upon them or were striving +frantically to break through the rearmost squadrons and escape; while, +shrill above the clash of arms and the shouts and screams, rose a name +that Sergius found himself listening to with a sort of curious interest. + +"Maharbal! Maharbal!" came the cry, nearer and nearer. + +At the first moment of the check, Marcus Decius had pushed the sturdy +horse that he rode well to the fore. He saw Hostilius riding back, +waving one arm and crying out incoherent words: his spear was gone, and +the head of a Spaniard's lance had been thrust through his shoulder and +broken off, so that a third of the shaft hung from the wound. + +Then what had happened and the hopelessness of it all became apparent. +Like the veriest fools they had ridden into the snare, and Maharbal, +the Carthaginian, with at least two thousand Spanish and African +horsemen, was thundering on their front and flanks: their front--but in +a moment, their rear; for now those who had not been ridden down at the +first onset or become inextricably entangled with their fellows broke +away over the plain, carrying their officers with them in a mad frenzy +of flight; while other Numidians--fresh riders on fresh steeds--urged +the pursuit and smote down the hindermost. + +Decius found himself riding in the middle of the press. His face was +as imperturbable as ever, though he glanced over his shoulder from time +to time as if to note how much nearer death had come. Sergius galloped +close behind him, careless and abstracted, his rein lying loose on his +charger's steaming neck. Then, of a sudden, a resolve seemed to come +to him. Straightening himself, he urged the weary horse forward +through the fugitives till he drew up even with Hostilius, who, still +frantic with panic, was now swaying in his saddle from the pain and +loss of blood. + +Sergius leaned over and laid his hand upon the other's arm, and +Hostilius started as if he had touched a serpent. Then he became +calmer, and a troubled look was in the eyes that sought the tribune's +face. + +"Yes, I know," he said at last, speaking hurriedly and in odd, strained +accents. "I led you into it, and now I am flying." + +"Let us turn back," said Sergius, mildly. "I do not reproach you, but +let us turn back. Surely it is better than the rods and axe." + +Hostilius shuddered, and, at that moment, Decius, who had overtaken +them, broke in with:-- + +"By Hercules! there is no fear of those. They cut us down in flight. +The choice is, shall we have it in the face or between the shoulders." + +"By the gods of Rome, then!" shouted the praefect, suddenly reining up, +while Sergius and Decius swung their horses in short circles. + +There was no trumpet to give the signal, and the little cavalry banner +had gone down long ago; but such was the force of Roman training that +nearly all of Sergius' men and half of the allies turned in mid-panic +with their leaders. To make head, much less to form was impossible, +for the foremost of the enemy were well mingled with the rearmost +fugitives. As Decius had said, it was only a choice of deaths: the one +swift and honourable, the other more lingering, but none the less +inevitable. + +Almost in a moment it was over. Between two and three hundred of the +united detachments had fallen already, and the hundred or so that now +sought to face about, went down in a crushed and bleeding mass under +the thousands of hoofs that overwhelmed them. Such was the weight and +impetus of the pursuing force that there was no time even to strike, +and most of the victims fell unwounded by spear or javelin. Sergius +was vaguely conscious that he had seen the praefect cloven through the +head by the short, swordlike Numidian knife, his own horse seemed to +collapse under him, and that was the end. + +Then he knew that it was dark and cold and that there was a howling in +the air, as of beasts of prey, and the shadow of a man fell across him, +for the moon was in the heavens, and the man was cursing by all the +gods of the Capitol. + +Gradually consciousness returned, and he recalled, incident by +incident, the happenings of the past day. He had been lying still, +thus far, without further wish than to look up at the stars and think +and listen to what he now knew was the distant howling of wolves and +the nearer curses of Marcus Decius. At last he stirred slightly, and +the decurion turned and looked down. + +"Do you live, master?" + +"Yes, truly," replied Sergius; "unless you chance to be a shade." + +Then he struggled to his feet, and the two gazed silently at each other +and around them. All about, in the moonlight, lay the bodies of horses +and men, the latter glittering in their white tunics, save here and +there an officer whose helmet and breastplate had seemed to mark out +his corpse for stripping and nameless desecrations. Sergius' +head-piece was gone, but he glanced at his own corselet and then at +Decius. + +"We were buried together under a heap of dead," said the latter, in +answer to the unasked query. "They made haste in their spoiling; and, +when they had gone, I drew myself free and found you: the wolves are +feasting well to-night; can you walk?" + +Sergius moved stiffly a few steps. He felt bruised from head to foot, +and one arm hung useless from a dislocated shoulder, but he found no +wound. Decius had not escaped so lightly. Besides the gash he had +received earlier in the day, he had been cut again across the forehead, +but his prodigious strength seemed to have inexhaustible resources to +draw upon. + +"Come," he said. "We must go southward as quickly as possible. +Sergius still walked slowly about, glancing at one corpse after +another, until the decurion, at last divining his thought, broke in +roughly:-- + +"Come! The wolves must provide him sepulchre as they will do for +better men. What would he have? The she-wolf suckled the twins. Let +Hostilius pay the debt by feeding the she-wolf's cubs. By Hercules! +other sepulchre for him means need of one for ourselves." + +So speaking, he at last drew Sergius away, and they began their weary +tramp across the field. + +"If I could have seen but one pulse-eater among the slain," said the +tribune, after they had gone some distance in silence. + +"I know of one that should be dead," remarked Decius, grimly, "if a +spear through his midriff be enough for him. Truly the ancient shafts +are useless in close fight, save for a single thrust. I, for one, +welcome the Greek equipment--and the sooner the better." + +Suddenly Sergius stopped and laid his hand upon his comrade's arm. + +"Look!" he said. + +A long, low rampart seemed to rise up from the plain two hundred yards +ahead. + +"Their camp," said the decurion, after a short pause, "and deserted. +Let us go forward cautiously; perhaps we shall find food." + +Step by step they crept up, walking faster and more erect as they drew +nearer and as the evidence that life was not there became more apparent. + +"They have left it only to-night," said Decius, clambering up the mound +of earth and sniffing the air. "Had it been a day old, we should have +smelt it long ago, though the wind blows from us." + +Then, as they descended and traversed the silent lanes, a puzzled +expression came to his face, and he halted from time to time. + +Sergius eyed him inquiringly. + +"Do you not smell fresh blood?" said the veteran, at last. "I remember +when we marched with Lucius Aemilius, after the Gauls had beaten the +praetor's army at Clusium. There were ten thousand men just slain, and +the air was salt like the sea--by Jupiter! What is this?" + +Resuming their advance, they had come upon a space of open ground near +the centre of the camp, doubtless the spot reserved for a market; but +what meat was it that cumbered the shambles, without buyer or seller? +Piled in ghastly heaps, or covering the ground two and three deep, lay +a fresh-reaped harvest of corpses, stripped, distorted, gleaming in the +moonlight. Could it be that the camp had been taken? But these were +no African dead, nor yet was this a Roman camp. There was a set +deliberation, too, about the slaughter, that told no tale of battle. + +Suddenly Decius cried out and, stooping down, raised the hands of one +of the victims--hands upon which the shackles still hung. + +"Slaves," murmured Sergius; "but why--" + +"Say, rather, prisoners," said the centurion, grimly. + +Sergius struck his thigh. It was all clear to him now. + +"May the plague fall upon him! may he go to a thousand crosses! Do you +not see? He is _escaping_. He has made for the passes and slain his +prisoners, that they may not hamper his march. Who knows but that by +now he is on the road to Rome? Gods! This was Hostilius' duty and +mine, and we wasted our time and our men on a few score of miserable +Numidians. Come, my Marcus, come: there are no such things as wounds +or weariness or caution. We must reach the dictator at once, and may +the gods grant that it be not too late!" + +Marcus Decius had been gazing gloomily at the young man, as the words +burst from his lips. + +"Where shall we go, and how?" he said, with a despairing gesture. + +"On our feet," cried Sergius. "Did I not say that weariness and wounds +were not? It is for the life of the Republic: I to the camp near +Casilinum; you to Tarracina. They will march by the Appian or by the +Latin Way, if they strike for Rome. If not, the plan may not be fatal." + +Decius yielded to the decision of his companion, and, with hasty +fingers, they unlaced each other's corselets and hurried out of the +camp, each to run his race with what strength remained. The last clasp +of hands had been given and received, when, far away on the hills east +and northeast, the quick eye of Sergius caught the gleam of a rapidly +moving torch: then another and another and another seemed to flame out +in the night, like stars when the moon has failed, until the whole +range of heights blazed with fires that flashed and danced and crossed +and recrossed each other in mad confusion, as if all the thronging +bacchanals of Greece had assembled for one frenzied orgy. + +Dazed and confounded by the spectacle, as grand as it was weird and +unexplainable, they stood spell-bound, powerless each to take the first +stride. Decius, the older man, the veteran, turned to his companion, +yielding that unconscious homage to birth and rank and education, that +comes in the presence of unknown perils. No experience of war could +help him here, and his mind leaped at once to the supernatural for an +explanation. As for the tribune, such thoughts, at least, had not +occurred to him. Greek scepticism had already gained too strong a hold +upon young Romans of rank, to let them regard the theology of the State +other than as a machinery devised by wise men to control an ignorant +rabble. Besides, his mind had taken another direction from the +discovery of the slaughter of the prisoners, and, humanlike, it ran on +in its channel, right or wrong. + +Decius was trembling violently. + +"Truly, master, the gods of Carthage are loose to-night," said he. + +There was even a little of contempt in the glance with which Sergius +noted the abject terror of the sturdy veteran. Utterly at a loss to +explain the apparitions, he never doubted for a moment but that they +were the product of some human wile. + +"Come," he said shortly. "The gods of Carthage have favoured us in +lighting the way. First of all, we shall go together and learn the +truth." Without waiting for a reply, he set off, at an easy, loping +gait, in the direction of the strange fires. Decius followed, as he +would have followed through the portals of Avernus. + +The distance to the heights was not great,--four or five miles at the +utmost,--but half an hour had passed, and still the spectacle, wilder +and more brilliant than ever, remained unexplained. For a stretch of +miles, the hills above, beyond, and below were all ablaze with rushing +flames that seemed guided by no sentient agency; then, suddenly, a +single torch glanced out from a small grove of trees a short distance +ahead and darted diagonally across their path. Decius stopped for an +instant, with trembling knees; but Sergius bounded forward to intercept +the torch-bearer, and the veteran followed from sheer shame. + +Up, down to the ground, up again, and then around in frantic waving +circles swept the flame: a mad bellowing rolled through the night, +until the tribune himself almost checked his stride in awe-struck +wonder. The next instant the torch, if torch it was, seemed to +flounder to the earth, from which it rose again and came driving +directly toward him, explained at last,--an ox with a great bundle of +blazing fagots fastened between its horns, blinded, frantic with pain +and terror. + +Sergius sprang aside, as the beast dashed by; but Decius, roused once +more to the possibility of independent thought and action, stepped +toward it and, as it passed, plunged his sword between its heaving ribs. + +"What now, my master?" he said, flushing with shame at his fears of the +last hour--perhaps the bravest hour of his life. "Does the lying +Carthaginian seek to terrify Quintus Fabius, the dictator, as he +terrified Marcus Decius, the decurion?" + +"Yes, truly," replied Sergius, gloomily; "and he will succeed even +better. No general, and, least of all, ours, would lead out his army +in the night against such a spectacle. Come, it is necessary that we +should reach the camp," and, turning once again, they fell to running +in a more southern direction, where a dim glow in the sky seemed to +tell of the watchfires of an army. + +At first no sound broke the stillness of the night, save the laboured +breathing of the weary runners and the strokes of their leathern +cothurni upon the hard ground; but soon other noises came to mingle +with these and, at last, to drown them: the lowing of thousands of +cattle, now scattered far and wide over the plain and hillsides, and +then the distant clash of arms and the cries of combatants. + +Day began to dawn, just as the fugitives came in sight of the Roman +camp with the army drawn up behind its ramparts, waiting for they knew +not what. Here and there upon the heights they could see small bodies +of legionaries who defended themselves against light troops of the +enemy, until overwhelmed by the Spanish infantry that scaled the hills +and cut them to pieces; while to every prayer that the dictator should +march out to their support, he returned one grim answer. + +"They deserted their posts in the passes. Rome needs not such +soldiers." + +So, company by company, the guards of the defiles, terrified or lured +away to the ridges by the ruse of the cattle and the blazing fagots, +fell ingloriously before their comrades' eyes, as being men not worth +the effort to succour. The rear-guard of the invaders had already made +its way through the pass, while the Carthaginian van was well on into +the valley of the Volturnus. Now, too, the African light troops +disappeared, and, at last, the white tunics of the Spaniards, gay with +their purple borders, glittered for a moment on the hilltops, and then, +their work of death completed, sank away behind the ridges to fall back +and join their comrades in a march of new destruction through a new +country. + + + + +VIII. + +DISGRACE. + +While these things were happening, for the most part in the sight of +all, Sergius had been able to gain a moment's speech with the dictator. +Forcing his way through the crowd of tribunes and officers who thronged +the praetorium, he had found Fabius seated before his tent, and had +told his story in the fewest words possible. + +Naked but for his torn tunic and his cothurni, covered from head to +foot with blood and mire, his left arm hanging useless, and his face +like the face of a dead man, neither his miserable plight nor his story +brought softness to the stern lips and brow of the general. + +"You have come to tell me this?" he said, when the other had finished +speaking. "Do I not know it _now_?" and he pointed to the heights. +Then he turned away and spoke with some one at his side, while Sergius +stood, with downcast eyes, swaying and scarcely able to keep his feet. + +Among those around him his fate seemed hardly a matter of conjecture, +but a thrill went through the company when Minucius, who had been +vainly urging the dictator to support the guards of the passes, now +turned away in disgust, and, noting the disgraced officer, as if for +the first time, cried out in a loud voice:-- + +"What, my friend! have not the lictors attended to you, yet, for +venturing to play the man?" + +Sergius felt the added danger to which the master-of-the-horse had +exposed him by using his insubordination to point such a moral to his +commander; but the face of the dictator gave no sign that he had even +heard the taunting challenge. Calmly he gave his orders for cautious +scouting, for breaking camp, and for the army to resume its patient +march of observation, along the flank of the retiring foe. Then, when +one after another had retired to fulfil his commands, he turned again +to the waiting tribune. + +"I have been considering your fault," he said slowly, "and I had marked +you out as a much needed victim for the rods and axe. Go to my +master-of-the-horse and thank him for your life. His taunt was +doubtless meant to destroy you, in order that he might play the +demagogue over your fate. I accept it as a challenge to my +self-control. It is more necessary that I should show myself wise and +forbearing than that one fool should perish for his folly. Go back to +Rome, and tell them that I have many soldiers who can fight, and that I +want only those who can obey." + +Utterly exhausted, Sergius struggled vainly to withstand this last, +crushing blow. His composure was unequal to the task, and, sinking +upon his knees, as the dictator turned toward the tent, he could only +stretch out one hand and murmur:-- + +"The axe, my master; I pray you, the axe." + +Fabius paused a moment and eyed him grimly. Then his rugged, weary +face softened slightly. + +"I trusted you," he said. "Could you not trust me for a little while? +But go to Rome, as I bade you--only there shall others go with you, and +you shall bear for your message, instead of that one, this: that there +is no room for wounded men in my camp." + +"But I shall be well in two days--in one--I am well now if you say it." + +Fabius shook his head slowly. + +"Aesculapius has not been unhonoured by me," he said, "and he has told +me that you will be but a burden for many days. For this reason go to +Rome, and for two others that you shall not tell of: one, for +punishment because you could not obey, and one, because the time will +come soon when Rome shall need even the men who can only fight." + +Sergius saw the hopelessness of struggling against his softened fate, +bitter though it was. Open disgrace, indeed, had been turned aside; +but, on the other hand, he was doomed to inaction during times when all +Rome longed only to strike, and he could not but feel that he had +fallen far in the estimation of his general. + + + + +IX. + +HOME. + +The Appian Way was still safe, even from the chance of Numidian foray, +and it was along its lava-paved level that the long convoy of sick and +wounded writhed slowly northward that afternoon. + +Half reclining in the rude chariot, each jolt of which brought agony to +his injured shoulder, Sergius watched, with far deeper pain than that +of body, the last troop of allied horse winding up the pass toward +Allifae: the rear-guard of Rome's line of march. Then he fell to +brooding upon his fate, while the night followed the day and the day +the night, and still the dreary, groaning caravan dragged on, resting +only during the heated hours. + +On, over the Liris at Minturnae, upward, over the mountains behind +Tarracina and descending again into the Pontine plain; through the +shady groves of Arician ilex that crown the Alban Hills, down to +Bovillae, and then away across the Campagna to Rome--a marvel of deep +cuttings through the hills,--a marvel of giant superstructures over +valleys,--the Appian, the Queen of Ways. + +There were long, green ridges now, swelling from the plain and breaking +away into little rocky cliffs tufted with wild fig trees: sluggish +streams wound down from the east where, far away, loomed the +snow-tipped summits of Apennine, while toward the west the sky +reflected a brighter light from the sea that glittered beneath it. + +At last the eyes of the vanguard of weary wayfarers could descry, +through the morning mists, the crowned cluster of hills that was to be +a crown to all the world. Nearer they came and yet nearer, through the +vineyards and cornfields of the Campagna--the southern Campagna teeming +with its herds of mouse-coloured cattle, whose great, stupid eyes were +only less stupidly beautiful than those of the rustics that watched +over their grazings. + +And now wounds and sickness were, for the moment, forgotten, as man +pointed out to man this and that landmark of home: temples on this hill +and on that; Diana on the Aventine, the hill of the people; Jupiter +Stator on the Palatine; the grim mass of the citadel above the rock of +Tarpeia; the great quadriga that surmounted the greatest fane of +all--the house of Capitoline Jove. To the right of these were the +clustered oaks of the Caelian Mount, while, farthest away, but highest +of all, the white banner fluttering from the heights of Janiculum told +them that the city was still safe, still unassailed. They were passing +where the road was bordered by its houses of the dead; tombs of the +great families, above which the funereal cypresses bent their heads and +shed peace and shade alike over the dead and the living. The hum of +the city came to their ears, and, as the convoy drew nearer to the +Capenian Gate, the throng, pouring out to meet them, grew thicker and +more dense, blocking the way until the cavalry of the escort cleared it +with their spear-butts. Then the press divided, running along on both +sides of the carriages, in two fast-filling streams whose murmurs +swelled into a very torrent's roar of questions and prayers for news of +the general and the army. + +"Was Hannibal beaten? Had he been slain, or was he waiting in chains +to grace the Fabian triumph? Was it true that he measured twice the +height of common men, and that a single eye blazed cyclops-like in the +middle of his forehead? How many elephants would be seen in the +triumph?" + +Such and a hundred queries, equally wild, assailed the escort and the +occupants of the wagons; for this was the rabble: poor citizens, +freedmen, slaves, for whom no story of Hannibal and Carthage was too +improbable. Nevertheless Sergius imagined he could discern a spirit of +irony underlying much that he heard. + +When they had reached the low eminence that, crowned by the Temple of +Mars, faced the city gate, he bade the attendants help him descend from +the army carriage, that he might wait the coming of his slaves with a +litter. A messenger was soon found, and hurried off, charged with +necessary directions. + +The crowd had rolled on through the gate, together with the convoy, and +the sick man was left alone save for the attendants of the temple in +whose care he had placed himself. Day by day, as he had jolted along +his journey, he had felt the fever coming on--fever born of his injury +and the terrible strain to which he had been subjected: now it was only +necessary to reach his home and rest. Last of his race but for two +older sisters who had married several years since, the spacious mansion +of the family of Fidenas was his alone, with its slaves and its +ancestral masks and its cool courts and its outlook over the seething +Forum up to the opposite heights of the Capitol. There he would find +care and comfort for the body if not for the soul. + +And now the patter of running feet sounded from the pavement below. +They were come, at last, with the litter, and Sergius, entering it, was +borne swiftly through the gate, on, between the tall houses that backed +up against the hills, turning soon to the left into the New Way; on, +past the altar of Hercules in the cattle market, past the Temple of +Vesta, along the Comitia, and into the Sacred Way by the front of the +Curia. Thence they swung westward to the Roman Gate, the gate in the +ancient Wall of the City of Romulus that fenced the Palatine alone,--a +stately entrance, now, to the residence portion of the city most +favoured by the great families. Near by stood the house that marked +the ending of the journey, bustling with its slaves and bright with a +hundred lamps; while the physician, an old freedman of the tribune's +father, stood upon the threshold to greet and care for his late +master's son. + +Gravely shaking his head at the discouraging aspect of the invalid and +muttering to himself in Greek, for he was born in Rhodes, he led the +way back to the great hall between the peristyle and the garden. + +"Here, master," he said, "I have caused your couch to be laid, at the +moment I learned of your arrival and condition. You observe, the air +and light will be better than in your apartment, and the space better +calculated for those whose duty it shall be to minister to you, until +the divine Aesculapius and Apollo's self unite to grant success to my +efforts." + +"It is well, Agathocles," said Sergius, wearily, "and I thank you." + +His voice seemed to die away with the last words, and a sort of stupor +fell over him. Agathocles watched him closely, as he lay upon the +couch, noted the heavy breathing, and drew his brows together with a +deep frown. Behind him a group of the household slaves whispered +together and cast frightened glances, now at their master, now at the +disciple of the healing art; for Sergius had been brought up among +them, and the terms of their service were neither heavy nor harsh. +Then the surgeon set to work examining the shoulder, nodding his head +to observe that the bone had been replaced in its socket, but waxing +troubled again over the inflammation and swelling that told the story +of torn tendons and blood-vessels too long neglected, and of the +hardships of the journey. Slaves were sent scurrying, in this +direction and that, to compound lotions and spread poultices, while +Agathocles himself proceeded to the ostentatious mixing of some cooling +draught calculated to ward off, if possible, the fever that was already +claiming its sway. + + + + +X. + +CONVALESCENCE. + +The many weeks of hovering between life and death that followed these +days were a dense blank to Sergius. First, there was his injury, more +serious than he had imagined, and the fever that had followed it, +complicated again by the malaria of the marshes through which he had +journeyed in so vulnerable a plight. Then came other weeks of such +lassitude that he had neither power nor desire to learn of the world to +which he felt himself slowly returning, as did Aeneas from the realms +of Pluto. There were times when he had been vaguely conscious of +whisperings around his couch upon subjects that should have interested +him and did not. Was it his fault? or had everything become +commonplace and of no account? + +At last there came a time of convalescence. His haggard face +frightened him when he looked at it in the bronze mirror; but the air +of the winter was fresh and keen, bringing health and life to the mind, +if not entirely to the body. So, lying one day in the entrance hall +and gazing out over the Forum below, he turned to Agathocles, who sat +close by. + +"And now you shall tell me," he began, "of the things that have +happened while I have lain here, helpless as a bag of corn in the +granary, and of even less importance." + +"You mistake, my master," replied the physician, quickly. "Surely you +must know that your condition has been a matter of deep anxiety to +many, both within and without your walls." + +"Within, perhaps, yes," said Sergius, slowly. "I treat them well, and +such of them as do not get freedom by my will would doubtless find +harder masters in Sabinus and Camerinus. My sisters' husbands are +patricians of the old school. As for without,--am I not a man useless +in times of action?--well-nigh disgraced?--" + +Agathocles hastened to interrupt:-- + +"Ah! my master, you do not know. Could you but see the crowd of +clients who have gathered at your door each morning, waiting for it to +creak upon the pivots, and, later in the day, such of your friends as +were not away with the army--ay," he continued, with a sharp glance at +the invalid, "and a pretty female slave who has come at each nightfall +and has questioned the doorkeeper." + +The strong desire to hear of two things had come into Sergius' mind +while the physician was speaking. He must learn about this female +slave who had inquired so assiduously, and he must hear of the army, +the war, the Republic; for these last three were really but one. After +something of an effort, and not without a certain sentiment of +self-approval, he said:-- + +"Let me hear of friends later, my Agathocles. Tell me now of the war." + +There was a troubled expression in the physician's eyes, but he +answered volubly:-- + +"It progresses famously, in Spain, my master. Oh!--ay--famously. +Their fleet has been swept from the seas, and Scipio slays and drives +them as he wills. Doubtless by now they are all back in Africa--" + +"Not of Spain," interrupted Sergius, as the narrator caught his breath. +"Tell me of Italy, of Hannibal and Fabius. Have the standards opposed +each other?" + +"They say Hannibal is in winter quarters at Geronium, and the consuls +watch him," began Agathocles, in more subdued tones. + +"Tell me of Fabius. Tell me of what has happened--all, do you hear?" +cried Sergius, raising himself impatiently on one elbow. "If your +story seems to lack coherence and truth, I swear to you that I will go +down into the Forum at once and learn what I wish." + +Thus adjured, the physician answered, but with evident reluctance:-- + +"Truly, my master, all things have not been as we might wish, and yet +they could easily have run worse. When your dictator let the invaders +out of Campania, there was much complaint among the people that he was +protracting the war for his own advantage; but when he came to Rome for +the sacrifices and left Minucius in command, with orders not to engage, +and when the master-of-the-horse, as some say, evading the orders, +fought and gained an advantage, then, you may believe me, the city was +in a turmoil; nor were there wanting friends of Minucius and emissaries +from his camp to sound his praises as a general and decry the dictator +and his policy, not to say his courage and his honesty." + +"I warrant," said Sergius, gloomily, "that every pot-house politician +from the Etruscan Street was declaiming on how much better _he_ could +command than could Quintus Fabius." + +"Until at last," went on Agathocles, "Marcus Metilius--" + +"The tribune?--a corrupt knave!" broke in Sergius. + +"Surely; yes. Well, this Marcus Metilius made a speech--" + +"Full of rank demagoguery, I warrant." + +"Surely, and saying that it was intolerable for Minucius, who was the +only man who could fight, to be put under guard lest he beat the enemy; +intolerable that the territory of the allies should have been given up +to ravage, while the dictator protected his own farm with the legions +of the Republic; and, finally, proposing, as a most moderate measure, +that Minucius, the victor, should be given equal command over the army +with Fabius the laggard." + +"Unprecedented impudence!" murmured Sergius, "and what said the +dictator?" + +"He did not trouble to go near the Comitia, and even in the Senate they +did not like to hear his praises of Hannibal and his troops, or listen +favourably when he spoke doubtfully concerning the magnitude of +Minucius' victory and claimed that, even were it all true, the +master-of-the-horse should be called to account for his +insubordination. So, after he had lauded prudence and supported his +own policy, and after Marcus Atilius Regulus was elected consul, the +dictator departed for the army, in the night, and left them to do as +they pleased." + +"They passed the law?" asked Sergius, bitterly. + +"It hung in doubt for some time," went on Agathocles; "for, though many +favoured, few were disposed to advance such a measure, until Caius +Terentius Varro, who was praetor last year--" + +"The butcher's son," commented Sergius. "You know, my Agathocles, how +demagogues and tyrants crushed out the life of your Hellas. We have +yet to see the same ruin fall upon Rome, and from the same cause: +first, an ungovernable rabble, stirred up by the ignorant and vicious, +and then a king, and then a foreign conqueror. Flaminius lost one +army, Minucius will doubtless lose another, while Metilius and Varro +are well able to lose whatever may remain. Pah! Why did you not let +me finish my journey to Acheron? This is no city for men whose fathers +were able to teach them about war and honour. He whose tongue is most +ready to lie about the noble and the rich is counted on to wield the +sword best against an enemy. Well,--speak on; and what happened next?" + +"As you say," continued the physician, "the measure was passed; but +when Minucius desired that he and the dictator should command on +alternate days, Fabius would only consent to a division of the army." + +"Gods!" exclaimed Sergius. "Two legions apiece! That must have been +rare sport for Hannibal." + +"Truly, yes; but it resulted well, for, to shorten the tale, the +Carthaginian trapped Minucius through his rashness, and was about to +cut him to pieces, when the dictator, who had foreseen all this, came +up and saved what was left; whereupon the master-of-the-horse marched +to the general's camp, and, saluting him as 'father' and 'saviour,' +surrendered his equal command, after having directed his soldiers, +also, to greet the others as patrons--" + +"That, at least, was well done," said Sergius, nodding; "worthy of a +man better born than Minucius. I do him honour for learning from +experience. Metilius or Varro could not have done it." + +"And, now," continued Agathocles, "both the dictator and the +master-of-the-horse have given up their commands, the time of their +appointments expiring, and the army is in winter quarters under the +consuls." + +"Servilius and Atilius?" + +"Truly." + +"And the elections?" + +"Are falling due." + +"Who sue for the consulship?" + +Agathocles hesitated and placed his fingers upon the patient's pulse. + +"I have told you enough for the day--" + +"Who are candidates?" reiterated Sergius, leaning forward impatiently. + +"They say that Varro--" began Agathocles. + +But the tribune had sprung to his feet. Then, as he swayed a moment +from weakness, leaning back against the couch, he raised both hands and +cried out:-- + +"Have they gone mad? The butcher's son!--the bearer of his father's +wares, to command against Hannibal! Do you think the Carthaginian a +bullock to stand still and stupid, while this soldier of the shambles +swings the axe? Gods! They will learn their error--only _we_ must pay +the price, together with the rabble that owe it. Gods! Was not the +lesson of Flaminius enough for these drinkers of vinegar-water? This +will be great news for them on the Megalia." + +Then, seeming to gain strength from his excitement, he strode up and +down the atrium, while the physician watched him anxiously but without +venturing to interfere. + +It was the doorkeeper's attendant that broke in upon the scene, pausing +a moment in doubt, as his eyes followed his master's rapid strides. +Finally, approaching Agathocles, he plucked him by the sleeve and +whispered:-- + +"The woman desires to know of the health of my lord." + +Before the physician could answer, Sergius had caught the words, and, +wheeling about, faced the boy. + +"What woman and where?" he asked. + +"The gray stole; the slave woman who inquires for you. She waits her +answer at the door," said the boy, his tongue loosened by the question. + +"Let her come to me," commanded Sergius, and he threw himself down upon +the deeply cushioned seat of a marble chair. Agathocles stood at his +elbow, with an expression of anxiety on his face, and, in a moment +more, the girl entered. + +Muffled almost to the eyes, she glided forward, and the voice that +addressed him was soft and musical. + +"May the gods favour you, my lord! even as they have favoured me in +permitting a sight of your improved health." + +"You have been here often," began Sergius, "and I wished to see you and +bid you bear my thanks to her who sent you." + +Slowly the stole dropped from the eyes--very pretty eyes, that, joined +with an equally pretty mouth, took on an expression of hurt +astonishment. + +"That _sent_ me?" she murmured, half sadly. "Ah, well; doubtless it is +a matter of insolence for a poor slave girl to wish and ask concerning +the health of the noble Sergius." + +The tribune watched her closely and with mingled feelings. He had +settled in his mind, from the moment of Agathocles' mention of the +fact, that the slave woman who called must be sent by Marcia, and it +was not without a pang of very poignant regret that he relinquished the +idea. That he could not place this girl--one of a class so far beneath +the notice of a Roman of rank--was not strange, and yet the face seemed +vaguely familiar to him, and--it was certainly little short of +beautiful. A man flouted, or, still worse, ignored by a mistress at +whose shrine he has worshipped, might well be pardoned a feeling of +satisfaction that his well-being was a matter of interest to at least +one pretty woman. + +Meanwhile the girl stood before him, her arms hanging by her sides, her +eyes modestly cast down, and her whole attitude indicative of detected +audacity and submissive despair. Agathocles had transferred his +attention from his patient to the visitor, and his scrutiny seemed to +trouble her. + +"So it was yourself alone who desired to learn of my welfare," said +Sergius, with a faint smile. "Believe me, my girl, no Roman is too +noble to value the interest of beauty like yours." + +There was just the suspicion of a laugh in the downcast eyes, but it +sped away as swiftly as it came, and she made haste to answer:-- + +"Truly, my lord does not measure his own worth. There are many, as +much above me in beauty as they are in rank; many who cannot venture to +show the concern they doubtless feel. What has a poor slave girl to do +with maidenly modesty--the plaything of any master who chooses to smile +upon her for a moment?" + +She spoke bitterly, and Sergius, half frowning, half smiling, reached +out his hand. The contrast between this girl's frankly spoken interest +and the courted Marcia's trivial indifference came to him more +powerfully. What a fool a man was to waste himself on some haughty +mistress who exacted all things and gave nothing! She had taken the +hand he held out, and now, suddenly, he drew her to him, and kissed her. + +Then he found new occasion to marvel over the strange ways of women. +As if awakened from a dream or a part in a comedy, to some instant and +frightful peril, she wrenched herself from him and, wrapping her cloak +around her face, turned and ran like a deer through the hallway and out +into the street. + +Sergius was dazed for a moment by the suddenness of it all; then he +rose. + +"Quick, Smyrnus!" he called to the boy who attended on the porter. +"Follow, and bring me word where she goes." + +The delay had been short, and Smyrnus was swift of foot, but when he +reached the street it was empty as far as he could see, and a dash to +each corner of the house gave no better results. Inquiries, likewise, +were unavailing, and he returned slowly and with shoulders that already +seemed to tingle under the expected rods. + +Meanwhile, Agathocles had essayed to exert his authority over the +invalid, and was protesting volubly against the latter's imprudence. +Sergius was in excellent humour, despite the escape of his conquest. + +"Nonsense, my Agathocles," he began, half guiltily at first, but +gaining confidence as he pursued his justification. "Do you not see, +all this has done me more good than a score of days spent in dull +reclining, with only nauseous draughts to mark the hours by? I have +learned that I am a man again, with an interest in the Republic and +myself. Surely such knowledge is worth a little risk. To-morrow, mark +you, if the gods favour me, I shall descend into the Forum and see if +nothing is to be effected against this rabble in the matter of the +elections. Had she not magnificent eyes, my Agathocles? not those of +the dull ox, as your Homer puts it, but rather of the startled fawn?" + +"They seemed to me more of the fox," said the physician, dryly, "being +golden in colour and very cunning. I doubt you fathomed her smile, +though wherefore she should seek--" + +"Sacrilege! Agathocles," cried Sergius, gayly; "but here comes Smyrnus. +Well, boy, where is the lair of this fox of our good Agathocles?" + +The terrified boy had thrown himself upon his face. + +"I hastened with all speed, master," he protested. "At your word I +flew, but she was gone, as if a god had snatched her up, nor was there +a passer-by who had seen aught--" + +Sergius was frowning ominously; then his face cleared. + +"Doubtless that was it, Smyrnus," he said. "Your judicious piety is +quicker than your heels in saving your back. If a god took her, he +showed excellent taste, and it would be utter sacrilege to punish you +for failing to learn her whereabouts. Come, Agathocles, be not so +gloomy. Do you think it is Aesculapius who has come to your aid? He, +at least, is no spruce, young rival. Be conciliatory, or I may, +perhaps, venture to try my fortune even against--" + +"I am rather of the opinion that some cunning Hermes has tricked Eros +and Aesculapius and my Lord Lucius as well," said the physician. An +expression of grim humour lurked in his face, and Sergius felt +strangely uncomfortable. + +"What is a physician if he talk not in the language of oracles," he +said, querulously. "Well, you may send me to my couch now, if you +will; but, mark you, to-morrow I go to the Forum." + + + + +XI. + +POLITICS. + +On the following day, Sergius, true to his purpose, ordered his litter +to be brought, and, reclining as his weakness compelled, was borne down +into the Forum crowded with its mass of turbulent and perspiring +humanity. Nor was the temper of the rabble doubtful. On every side he +heard arraignments of Fabius, and, through him, of all men guilty of +good birth or riches. Under every portico, speakers were pouring forth +harangues whose ignorance was only matched by their coarseness and +surpassed by their reckless malevolence. Once he bade his bearers set +him down, near where one Quintus Baebius Herennius, a plebeian tribune +and a relative of Varro's, was holding forth to a sympathetic crowd. + +"Do you not know, ye foolish Romans," cried the orator, alternately +slapping his thigh, waving his arms, and casting up his eyes, "that +this Hannibal was brought into Italy by these very nobles, who are +always desiring war? Can you not see how they are protracting the war, +when you consider that one man of the people, our own Minucius, when he +commanded the four legions, was sufficient for the enemy? Behold how +this traitorous, this _noble_ Fabian schemed to expose the brave +Minucius and two legions of the people to destruction, and only rescued +the remnant that he might pose as their saviour and be saluted 'father' +and 'patron.' There, indeed, was our Minucius at fault, as what +honest, poor man is not, when confronted by the wiles of those bred to +craft and trickery! See, too, how the consuls have followed the same +dilatory measures, and can you doubt that it is all by agreement with +these traitor nobles? Know well, now, that this war will have no +ending until a man of the people ends it--a real plebeian; a new man. +See you not that both consuls, by tarrying with the army, have set up +an interregnum, that the wicked nobles may the better influence your +choice? But if you be true Romans, such as were those who camped upon +the Sacred Hill, you will remember that one consulship, at least, is +yours by law, and you will elect a man to fill it who is one of +yourselves and who will spurn the rich, as they now seek to spurn you +and me and all good men." + +Sergius had listened to this harangue, and to the applause which +greeted it, with mingled feelings of indignation and sorrow--sentiments +to which was added surprise when he noted through the closed curtains +of his litter that several patricians passed by and smiled and nodded +to the speaker while he poured forth his diatribes. Now, however, a +new commotion seemed to agitate the throng, who, turning suddenly, ran +pell-mell in one direction, almost overturning the litter--a +catastrophe from which it was only saved by a vigorous use of the +bearers' staves upon the heads of the nearest. + +Sergius thrust aside the curtains and half raised himself to see the +cause of the disturbance. The brightly fullered gown of a candidate +flashed before his eyes, and then he recognized Varro standing upon a +silversmith's counter, smiling this way and that, grasping the hands of +those nearest, kissing his own to the very outskirts of the mob, and +all the while crying out, to the promptings of his nomenclator: +"Greeting to you, Marcus!" "Health, Quintus!" "Commend me to your +brother, my Caius--yes, to be sure--when he shall return from the army. +Ah! friends, when I am consul, there will be a hasty returning from +such foolish wars. You shall see the African fork-bearers winding +through the Forum." + +"And that is the first word of truth I have heard from you, Varro, or +from your Herennius here," cried Sergius, who had risen and now stood, +pale and gaunt, beside his litter. "With you and such as you to +command, we may well look to see the African fork-bearers winding +through the Forum--yes, and pillaging amid its ruins." + +A roar of vituperation drowned whatever answer the candidate might have +made, as, with brandished clubs, cleavers, knives, styli--any weapon +that could be snatched up from the booths--the nearest score of the +crowd made a dash at the presumptuous noble. + +The litter-bearers were sturdy fellows, and their staves were stout, +but the contest was far too unequal. One had gone down with a deep +gash in the shoulder, and the others were quickly forced back upon +their master. + +Sergius stood with his back to one of the square pillars of peperino, +with folded arms and pale face upon which hovered a smile of ineffable +scorn. He recognized his peril: the fate that had befallen many noble +Romans in the election riots of the Republic; but his sentiment was +rather one of indifference than of perturbation, and he was about to +order his slaves to give up their hopeless defence, in order that the +crowd might let them, at least, go without further hurt, when an +entirely unexpected diversion brought him relief and safety. + +Varro had viewed the attack upon his critic with a pleasure that he +scarcely tried to conceal. He kept begging his adherents to be +moderate and abstain from violence, but in so low a voice that his +counsels could not be heard except by those immediately around him, and +were entirely inaudible to the howling assailants to whom they were +presumably addressed. Another voice, however, a shrill, female voice, +came suddenly to Sergius' ears:-- + +"Would that my brother could come to life and command another fleet, +that the streets might be less crowded!" + +Sergius recognized, in a rich litter that was tossed hither and thither +by the billows of the mob, the face of the sister of that Publius +Claudius who had lost for Rome the naval battle off Drepanum. The mob, +too, recognized her, and the scornful speech bit deeply. All around +arose a cry of-- + +"To the aediles with her! To the aediles! She has rejoiced in the +death of our brothers! May the gods curse the noble!" and, in a +moment, Sergius found himself alone but for his bruised and bleeding +servants, while the tide of riot swept up the Forum, bearing the litter +upon its tossing crests, and the virago within continued to scream out +her defiance and contempt. + +Varro remained, surrounded by a few friends, and, as Sergius +approached, he drew himself up, as if to reenforce his courage with a +sense of his importance. The tribune was about to pass him without a +word; but the demagogue, emboldened by this seeming unwillingness for +an encounter, placed himself in his path. + +"Did you hear the kindly wishes that the great express for the health +of their poorer countrymen?" he began, tauntingly. + +"It is like your kind, Varro," replied Sergius, speaking slowly and in +tones of profound contempt, "to attribute to our party any intemperance +of a single opponent; but do you also credit us with the virtues of +individuals? I might with better grace attribute the murderous attack +just made--and with your connivance--upon myself, to the party of the +people. That I do not do so, you may lay to a moderation and +magnanimity that are not learned in the tradesman's booth or the +butcher's shambles." + +Varro flushed crimson, and he looked from side to side, as if to call +upon his friends for new violence; but a company of young patricians +were descending from the Comitia, and his fellows were dull of +comprehension. + +"Do you beware, though, Varro," continued Sergius, "lest, in striving +to attain power and place on the wings of calumny against those better +than yourself, or by the suggestion of false grievances to those who +are ignorant and weak, you may, by these things, incite one riot too +many. Beware, above all things, lest you win." + +Then, drawing his toga close, as if to avoid a contaminating touch, he +strode by to join the approaching band of young men, leaving his +opponent vicious to snarl, but powerless to bite. + +After the usual greetings and inquiries concerning his health, they +walked on together toward the Curtian Pool, and Sergius' thoughts took +on a deeper colour from the despondent speech of his friends. That +Varro would receive the votes of the centuries, beyond all doubt, was +unanimously conceded; and so great was the dissatisfaction with Fabius, +that their regret seemed only for the manner of the popular victory and +the man who was to gain it. A few hot-heads dropped hints to the +effect that it might become necessary to reorganize the patrician clubs +and meet violence with violence, in which event there could be but +little doubt as to the result; but the sentiment of the majority was +adverse to such measures, and they viewed the possibilities with an +indifference that to Sergius seemed even more ominous than the frenzy +of the rabble and the worthlessness of its leaders. His attempts to +defend the Fabian policy, speaking as one of its victims, were +hopelessly thrown away. All Rome was mad for battle, even at the cost +of sending the butcher's son to command the legions; and, two days +later, the result of low chicanery and indifferent lethargy took shape. + +The trumpet had summoned the army of the city to the Field of Mars, and +century after century had entered the enclosure to cast its vote for +Varro--for Varro alone, until no one of the noble candidates, who +received the half-hearted support of their fellows, got even enough +pebbles to be proclaimed elected to the second consulship. To Varro +alone, cringing and insolent, was the oath administered; for Varro +alone was the prayer put up; for Varro was the declaration twice made, +according to the laws of the Republic, and into Varro's hands was +placed the presidency over the assembly that was to elect his colleague. + +Then followed an exhibition of plebeian cunning. There were among the +supporters of the consul those who realized what he himself could not: +his military incompetence and the terrible necessity that, at such a +juncture, there should be at least one soldier-consul. Varro had won +on his merits as self-announced, on the strength of his own arraignment +of his adversaries' shortcomings. He stood forth the incarnation of +party and class hatred; and now the victors, half dazed by the very +completeness of their triumph, paused in mid career to look for a +soldier with whom the army might be entrusted. That he must be a +noble, was self-evident. Even the rabble, now that its first outburst +had passed, was not so mad as to attribute military skill to any of its +wordy leaders. The butcher's colleague must be a patrician, but he +must be such a patrician as would cast reproach upon his class, while +he supplied the one quality requisite to the plebeian situation. To +whose political acumen first occurred the name of Lucius Aemilius +Paullus, no one seemed to know; but, once suggested, there was none to +deny its entire appropriateness. Paullus was a veteran of several +wars, an experienced commander, a brave soldier; and there his merits +ended. He had been brought to trial for misappropriation of the +plunder taken in the Illyrian campaign, and, as many thought, acquitted +by means as scandalous as the crime itself, while his less influential +colleague suffered for both. Harsh and rude, no high-born Roman was +less popular; and his exaggeration of class insolence bade fair to +offer him as an illustration, ready to the tongue of every demagogue, +of what the people must always expect from patrician rule. + +So, one by one, the five noble opponents of Varro were rejected, and +the word went out that, of their enemies, the people would have Paullus +and him alone. + + + + +XII. + +BRAWLINGS. + +More sick at heart, as he grew stronger in body, Sergius returned from +the final voting in the Field of Mars. For some reason the popular +party, sated with triumph, had permitted the election, as praetors, of +good men who had experience in military affairs; perhaps that these +might, together with Paullus, make surer the victory that was to +redound to the honour of the darling of the mob and proclaim to all the +Roman world the superiority of the butcher, Varro, over Fabius, the +well-fathered. + +As Sergius was borne along toward the Palatine district, he found the +streets crowded with a populace he had hardly known to exist in the +city. Down from the lofty tenements of the Aicus, up from the slums of +the Suburra, the Gate of the Three Folds, and the Etruscan Street they +poured, drunk with joy and with hatred of all men who wore white togas +and had money to lend or lands to till. At each corner a denser throng +was gathered around jugglers, tumblers, wrestlers that writhed over the +road-way, actors who danced Etruscan pantomimes and carried their +make-up in little bags slung around their necks, singers of medleys, +and would-be popular poets who spouted coarse epigrams and ribald +satires levelled at the thieving, the effeminate, the adulterous +patricians who thought to rule Rome and had named an Aemilius Paullus +to stand beside and check the generous, the fearless, the incorruptible +Varro. Threatening looks and words were cast at Sergius and the +company of freedmen and clients that surrounded him, until he was not +ill-pleased to see the escort of another noble issue from a side street +and beat its way to where the exhausted bearers had set down the +tribune's litter, pausing to gain breath before attempting to push on +farther. When, however, he recognized in the sturdy old man who strode +along in the midst of the new company, no more distant acquaintance +than the father of Marcia, he was conscious of a strong revulsion. +Better the continued buffeting with an obstreperous mob than the +embarrassments he foresaw in such a rencontre; but it was too late to +avoid it: the interests and perils of the two parties were too nearly +identical, and he heard the gruff voice of his old friend crying out:-- + +"Back, exercisers of the whip! Back, colonizers of chains! To the +cross with you all! Is this Animula or Rome, where rude clowns do not +recognize their betters?" Then, for the first time, perceiving +Sergius: "Greeting to you, my Lucius! May the gods favour you better +than they have the Republic this day." + +At that moment, a big, hulking fellow thrust himself forward in the +path of the advancing patrician and hiccoughed out:-- + +"May you meet with a plague, master! Truly there are to be no betters +or worsers in Rome--now that the noble Varro is consul and--" + +The staff of Torquatus felled him to the ground, where he lay +shuddering and drawing up his legs, while a yell of rage and menace +broke from the crowd. Scarcely changing a line in his grim face, the +old man calmly trussed the folds of his toga about his left arm, freed +his right more fully, and drew a stylus of such size as to suggest a +dagger much more than an instrument for writing: such a weapon as was +born of the election brawls of earlier days, innocent under the law, +yet equally efficient as pen or sword. + +Daunted at his aspect, the foremost assailants held back. + +"Are there not more vinegar drinkers that wish to learn from an old +Roman the manners of old Rome?" asked Torquatus, sneeringly. + +How the fight, once begun, would have ended seemed hardly uncertain, +for the crowd filled all the neighbouring streets: half were drunk, and +nearly half were provided with arms of some sort, many of them such as +were warranted by no pretext of law, save the knowledge that Varro was +consul, and the belief that he would protect his adherents in whatever +breach might please them. The dangerous front of Torquatus and his +company might have sufficed to check those who would have to lead a +rush, but they, unfortunately, had the least to say on the subject of +giving battle. Already the mobs, pouring in from the side streets at +the first scent of a brawl, were pushing the forlorn hope, all +unwilling, to its fate; three or four had already gone down with broken +heads, and a freedman of Torquatus had been stabbed in the side, when, +above the tumult, rose a voice crying:-- + +"Make way for the Consul, Paullus! Way! way!" + +The matter, truly, was becoming serious, thought the outskirts of the +mob--all of them who could hear the shout. A brush with the fiercest, +the most hated, the most hating aristocrat that had been borne behind +the fasces for many a year, would mean punishment with a heavy hand. +The pressure was at once relieved, and though those in front saw no +sign of consul or lictor--saw only Sergius who had descended from his +litter and was leading his company in a vigorous attack--yet they were, +for the most part, only too glad to escape from the glaring eyes of +Titus Manlius and the broad sweep of his weapon. The old man was +puffing hard from the unwonted exertion when Sergius reached his side +through the fast-scattering assailants. + +"The gods have punished my blasphemy with kindness," began Torquatus, +"in sending my Lord Paullus in such timely fashion." + +"Say, rather, my father, in sending his name into the mind of one +Lucius Sergius," said Sergius, laughing. + +For a moment the other frowned with a puzzled look; then his face +cleared, with as close an approach to a smile as it could wear. + +"And our rescue is not due to the consul, then?" he asked, still slow +to fully grasp the ruse. + +"To the consul's name and to the favouring cunning of Mercury," said +Sergius, bowing. + +"Truly, you should command," exclaimed Torquatus. "A general so ready +in craft as you are might hope to match the African--and, by the gods! +no one else seems able to. Come, let us go on to my house." + +Though harshly said, and in tones that one less acquainted with the +speaker might well have mistaken for sarcasm, Sergius knew that the +compliment was genuine. The aged patrician had turned and strode away, +as he finished speaking, and etiquette left to the younger man no +choice but to pay to the elder the reverence of his escort. That he +had asked what he might well have looked for as a matter of course, was +something of a condescension, according to the strict ceremoniousness +of the ancient usage; therefore Sergius hurried on and overtook him, +offering his litter, at which the other sniffed contemptuously. + +"May the gods grant me to lie at rest by the Appian Way, before I +require such feet!" Then, as his sharp eyes noted the flush upon +Sergius' face, he added: "Fever, wounds, and death may pardon +effeminacy; and, truly, I would beg you to accompany me as you came, +were it not that a climb up the Palatine should bring new health to one +who could run ten miles with a broken shoulder. Believe me, my friend, +the dictator thought better of you than he spoke, and would have +regretted the axe. Jupiter grant that it be yours to justify his +opinion!" + +No stimulant could have given such strength to the convalescent as did +these words, and from such a source. The dictator had not condemned, +then; he had even spoken well of him. The knowledge of it put to +flight the embarrassment he had felt when he realized that he was going +perforce to Marcia's house--perhaps into her presence; and he found +himself standing straighter and stepping out with longer and bolder +strides. + +"Good words are better than bad ones for a good man," mused Torquatus, +wagging his head sententiously, and darting at his companion a +comprehensive glance, behind which lurked a grim smile. "If women +could ever learn as much, they might govern us the more readily--which +the gods forefend! as I doubt not they will." + +Then the company halted. It was many months since Sergius had stood +before that door, and he could not, without grave discourtesy, refuse +the invitation to enter. Well, what mattered it? Marcia cared +nothing; why should he? Then, too, the stimulus of the dictator's +approval was still upon him, as the warning cry of the porter bade +those nearest stand back while the door swung out. Most of the party +took their leave here, but several followed into the atrium for adieus +more appropriate to their station. + +At last all had departed save Sergius, who, having given orders that +his attendants should await him in the street, passed on into the +peristyle with his host. + +There, beside the fountain, spinning, as he had so often seen her--as +he had seen her through all the days and nights of the campaign--sat +the lady Marcia. Two of her maidens were assisting: one who glanced up +at Sergius and smiled tauntingly; and another who turned her face away, +and seemed to be trying to hide it in the close inspection of a great +bunch of fleece. But both the forwardness of the one and the +bashfulness of the other were wasted upon the visitor. As a matter of +fact, he was so lost in wonder at his courage and self-control as to be +well past observing the idiosyncrasies of slaves; and, if his own +attitude was acceptable, even to himself, his admiration for that of +his hostess amounted to absolute bitterness. That she, a mere girl, +should rise and come forward with so conventional yet friendly a +greeting, that neither her lip should tremble nor her cheek flush, was +little short of intolerable. Nevertheless it helped to brace his own +resolves yet more firmly. Such poise, after all that had been between +them, could have its source only in the most absolute indifference. + +"Health to the noble Lucius! Let him believe that there is no one of +his friends who thanks the gods more fervently for his recovery." + +On its face the speech was cordial--much too cordial for love that has +quarrelled; therefore he bent his head and answered:-- + +"Were it not impiety, the noble Lucius would thank his well-wisher for +her words, more, even, than he thanks the gods for his recovery." + +"Ah!" she replied lightly, "then he must scatter his thanks yet more +broadly, for there cannot be a defenceless woman in Rome who does not +rejoice that so brave a defender is spared to the State." + +Sarcasm for sarcasm, he thought bitterly, but he answered as +carelessly:-- + +"In that case, I shall not bear my thanks beyond the gods; for if my +health be no greater care to you than to all the white stoles in the +city, I think I can measure its value." + +An expression of almost infantile surprise and reproach crossed her +features. + +"You are either very forgetful or very ungrateful," she said. "If +Venus has healed so faithful a votary, surely mortal women have not +been lacking in their sympathy; nor, if report tells truly, has the +noble Lucius been lacking in gratitude--until now." + +That shaft struck home, and, for a moment, Sergius could find no +answer. He could only remember the episode of the girl who had come to +him, and wonder which one of his household could have borne treacherous +word to Marcia of his weakness and his discomfiture. Meanwhile she had +turned carelessly and dismissed her women, and one had gone, throwing +back laughing glances, the other, with her face still buried in the +wool with which she had filled her arms. + +Torquatus had been standing near, somewhat puzzled by what he felt to +be a battle of words between his daughter and his guest, but a battle +whose plans of attack or defence he found himself at a loss to fathom. +Feeling at last that it was incumbent upon him as host to break in upon +badinage that bade fair to become embarrassing, he spoke briefly of his +encounter with the mob and of Lucius' timely aid and clever ruse. +Marcia listened closely, nodding her head from time to time, but her +colour had deepened and her hand was clenched tight when the story was +finished. + +"Who will be safe in Rome, father!" she burst out. "The rabble elect +their magistrates, and the magistrates, in return, let them do as they +please. When it comes to attacking you; a consular--a Manlius! We +must sleep no more in our houses unless the household be in arms and on +guard." + +Sergius gazed in astonishment. A Marcia spoke whom he had never known; +but the old man smiled grimly. + +"It is the blood," he said. "She is truly 'Manlia,' though called, +against custom, for my dead Marcius. When Claudians change the toga +for the paludamentum, and Ogulnians cease to babble of Greek +philosophy, then shall a Manlian be lacking in the spirit of our +order--ay, and in the courage to act." + +Marcia did not seem to hear his words. Her brows were drawn together +in what Sergius considered a very pretty frown. She turned toward him. + +"They have gotten their butcher for consul," she went on; "now let him +lead them. How long before they will be begging for the swords they +have despised! Let them alone! Let Hannibal work his will; then we +shall stand forth, like the exiled Camillus, to defend a Rome purged of +its black blood--a Rome worth defending--" + +But Sergius had recovered from his surprise, and his face was serious, +as he interrupted the torrent of words. + +"Patrician and plebeian must stand or fall together, my Marcia," he +said quietly. "It is the Republic that we shall defend, and defend the +more bravely because it is, in a way, defenceless. If a time of +madness come upon a parent, do we not guard her the more tenderly who +cannot guard herself?--ay, and even against the foolish acts she may +herself attempt?" + +"And you--you--a Sergius, will serve under this Varro?" she exclaimed. + +"Truly," he said bowing, "I am a Roman, and the barbarians are in +Italy. When they are gone, I will fight Varro on the rostra, in the +Senate. Perhaps I shall even lead my clients to drag him, stabbed, +from his house." + +She was gazing at him with great, round eyes in which the contempt and +anger began to give place to a softer look--a look which no man might +hope quite to interpret; then she threw her head to one side and +laughed, but the laugh was short and nervous. + +"I congratulate your eloquence and patriotism, as I sympathize with +your unpropitious gallantry. May Venus make happy your next pursuit of +a pretty slave." + +Again she laughed, and this time her laugh was unfeignedly malicious. +Sergius flushed crimson; Torquatus looked scandalized and stern; but +before either could answer, she was gone. + +"You will return to the army, then?" said the old man, hurriedly and as +if to cover his annoyance. "How soon will your strength be sufficient?" + +"I shall set out to-night," said Sergius. The flush had gone from his +face, and he was very pale, while his voice sounded as if from far +away. "By so doing I shall journey by easier stages, and shall avoid +accompanying the consul; nor will he reach the camp before me." + +"There is talk of new levies," said Torquatus, vaguely. + +"Yes, and there will be fighting soon." + +"Flaminius fought." + +"May Jupiter avert the omen! and you will forgive me, my father, if I +bid you a too hasty farewell? I had not determined to go so soon--but +it is best. And there is preparation to be made." + +Torquatus followed him silently to the door, and watched the light of +his torches till it died out below the hill; then he shook his head +with a puzzled, sad expression. + +"Yes, truly," he said; "let the omen be lacking." + + + + +XIII. + +THE RED FLAG. + +The red flag fluttered in the breeze above the tent of Varro. + +Months had come and gone since the plebeians had triumphed in the Field +of Mars; months of weary lying in camp, months of anxious watching, +months of marches and countermarches. Contrary to the expectations of +Sergius, neither of the new consuls had gone straight to the legions, +and the pro-consuls, Servilius and Regulus, remained in command. +Paullus had busied himself in preparing for the coming spring, levying +new men and new legions, and directing from the city a policy not +unlike that of Fabius; while Varro, on the other hand, as if maddened +by his sudden elevation, rushed from Senate House to Forum and from +Forum to every corner where a mob could congregate; everywhere rolling +his eyes and waving his hands, now shrieking frantic denunciations +against the selfish, the criminal, the traitorous nobles who had +brought the war to Italy and sustained it there by their wicked +machinations and contemptible cowardice; now congratulating his hearers +that the people had at last taken the conspirators by the throat and +had elected a fearless consul, an incorruptible consul, an able consul, +one who would soon show the world that there were men outside of the +three tribes. Then he would fall to mapping out his campaign--a +different plan for each cluster of gaping listeners, but each ending in +such a slaughter of invaders as Italy had never seen, and a picture of +the long triumph winding up the Sacred Way, of Hannibal disappearing +forever within the yawning jaws of the Tullianum. At times, when his +imagination ran riot most, he went so far as to depict with what +luxuriance the corn would grow on the farm of that happy man whose land +should be selected by the great consul, the plebeian consul, the consul +Varro, for his slaughter of the enemies of the Roman people. + +To these harangues Paullus and the nobles listened in wonder and +disgust--even in terror; and when, at length, the consuls set out to +take command of the greatest army Rome had ever put into the field, the +story was passed from mouth to mouth of how Fabius had spoken with +Paullus and warned him that he must now do battle against two +commanders: Hannibal and his own colleague; and of how Paullus had +answered in words that told more of foreboding than of hope. + +Even the Senate seemed to have fallen under the coarse spell of this +mouthing ranter. News had come that Hannibal was at Cannae, had seized +upon the Roman stores in the citadel there; that, strongly posted, he +was scouring the country in all directions; that the allies could not +be expected to stand another season of ravage; and so, when the consuls +set out to take command of the legions, it was with the express +direction of the fathers to give battle on the first favourable +opportunity. + +Still, there was room left them for some discretion, and when Paullus +had viewed the country along the banks of the Aufidus, level as it lay +and open to the sweep of cavalry, his soldier eye told him that the +opportunity was not here, and that, with a short delay, the enemy must, +in the lack of safe forage, retire to more favourable ground. + +Then followed quarrels and denunciations and furious mouthings; but +Varro did not neglect to use one day of his command to lead the army +forward to a point between the Carthaginians and the sea, whence it +would be impossible for Paullus to hope to withdraw them safely in the +face of the foe. + +It was on the first of Sextilis that Hannibal offered battle; but this +was Paullus' day, and he had lain quiet in camp, "Sulking," as his +colleague exultantly put it, "because a plebeian's generalship had kept +another do-nothing patrician commander from running away." Then the +next morning broke--Varro's day--and the red flag fluttered from the +spear above Varro's tent. + +A group of men were gathered before the quarters occupied by certain of +the special cavalry: mounted volunteers, for the most part of rank, who +served out of respect to the consul, Paullus. Fully armed, with horses +held near by, they were already prepared to ride out at the word, and +they listened to the din of preparation going on on every side, and +watched the crimson signal of battle that now flapped lazily in the +wind and again hung limp against its staff. + +"The butcher has his way at last," remarked a youth who had scarce +offered up his first beard; but the man he addressed, Marcus Decius, +growled in reply:-- + +"Wait, only wait, my little master, and we shall see who is the butcher +and who is the fat steer." + +"But," put in another of the company, "have you not heard that our camp +beyond the stream had no water yesterday? that the Numidians cut them +off from it? Doubtless we are to cross over to its relief." + +Decius rose from his buckler, upon which he had been resting, and swept +his arm out across the country. + +"All one," he said; "water or blood; this bank or that! Look! No room +for our infantry to spread out; level ground for their horse to sweep +clean. You have never been close to the Numidians, my master?" and he +pointed to the scar across his forehead. "They ride fast and strike +hard--when the country pleases them." + +The boy laughed carelessly, but said nothing, while he who had spoken +third hesitated a moment and frowned. Then he said in a lower voice:-- + +"You are an old soldier, Marcus,--a head decurion once,--and you would +do better than try to terrify men of less experience." + +Decius ground his teeth, and his eyes flashed, but he lowered his voice +when he replied:-- + +"I thank you, Caius Manlius, for the reminder; and I also may recall to +you that I am neither the only nor the highest officer who is serving +as volunteer to-day, because Varro must have legions commanded by +butchers and bakers and money-lenders. I, too, am a plebeian, and I +cast my pebble for my order (whereat the infernal gods are doubtless +now rejoicing); but I am also, as you say, an old soldier, and hold the +camp to be no place for the tricks of the Forum. As for frightening +recruits, if words and the sight of old scars will frighten them, they +had best ride north to-day hard and fast." + +Manlius' face flushed at the reminder of his own lost command, and, as +if by consent, both men glanced over at another who stood near them, +leaning on his spear. Drawn by the centred attention of the two, +Lucius Sergius turned from his inspection of the rising mists, beyond +which lay the Carthaginian forces, and looked silently and sadly at his +friends: Manlius, the brother of his mistress, parted from him for a +while by petty embarrassments and diverse duties, but, for the last +days, closer than ever in kindred service and fellowship; and Decius, +the sturdy comrade of the Campanian raid, the man who talked, now like +Ulysses, now like Thersites, but who always fought like Diomed; the +very Nisus who had saved his life. It seemed, too, as if the others +understood the import of his glance, for Decius turned away +ostentatiously, and sought to arrange the leathern straps of his +corselet skirt, while Manlius strode over and grasped Sergius' hand. + +"The butcher showed us better favour than he intended, when he put +others in our commands," he said gayly. "We shall fight side by side, +and perhaps my sister may be pleased to play the siren no longer. +Besides, I am well satisfied to be free from any of the +responsibilities of this day." + +"Marcia is no songstress of the rock, my Caius," said Sergius, half +sadly, half playfully; "unless her heart be the rock from which she +sings--a rock to me; but the gods have given men other things, when +women do not choose to love:--things that will serve to stir us today. +Afterward we shall be still." Then, noting that the young man who had +first addressed Decius was now watching their talk with troubled face, +he raised his voice cheerfully. "Tribune or volunteer, it is all one +to me. Do we not serve under Aemilius Paullus and his Illyrian +auspices? After this day, friends, we shall see no more pulse-eaters +in Italy." + +Suddenly, a blast of trumpets rang clear, above the noise of +preparation; lieutenants dashed hither and thither, their legs bent +along their horses' sides; several cohorts marched past, to man the +rampart nearest the foe, while from behind came the louder rattle of +arms, and the earth shook under the tread of the legions, pressing on +through the porta dextra, and spreading out in three great columns that +plunged down the slope into the Aufidus, and rose again, and pushed out +into the plain on its southern bank. Hastati, principes, triarii--they +marched in order of battle, ready to face about at the moment of +attack, while, as they deployed, the famished Romans across the river +swarmed down, under shelter of the protecting lines, and, lying thick +in the turbid water below, drank as if their parched tongues and lips +would never soften. + +The morning mists were clearing. Strange sounds and rumblings came +also from the south and west, and the red flag hung limp upon the spear. + +Still the legions streamed on, but no orders had come to the special +volunteers, and Sergius began to wonder whether they were to be left to +guard the camp, as an added indignity to their rank. He ascended the +rampart, with Manlius and Decius, and strove to pierce the distance in +the west. Now and then a broad flash of light seemed to shine before +his eyes, and ever there came to his ears the rumble of tramping +thousands; the dust, too, was thickening, to take the place of the +scattered mists, and the wind blew it up in blinding clouds into the +face of Rome's battle. + +"Gods! what is Terrentius Varro doing!" cried Decius suddenly, and the +three turned at his voice. A nodding forest of crests, red and black, +rising a cubit above the uncovered helmets of the legionaries, seemed +to fill the eastern plain and extend almost to where the Adriatic beat +upon the shingle. "Look at his front! Look at how closely the +maniples are crushed together! Gods! they are almost 'within the +rails' already." + +Sergius looked, and the frown upon his brow deepened. + +"Eighty thousand men," he muttered; "and we shall scarce outflank their +forty thousand. Does Varro wish to cast aside every advantage! Gods! +what gain is there in such depth? and he might--" + +"Evidently you do not understand the strategy of great commanders who +have studied war." + +The voice that interrupted was cynical and scornful, to a degree that +men hated the speaker even before they saw him; and, when the three +wheeled quickly, his face gave nothing to dispel the bad impression. A +tall, gaunt man, in plain and somewhat battered armour; a face +sharp-featured, very dark, and deeply lined wherever the wrinkles lay +that expressed pride and contempt and violent passions; lowering brows +from beneath which shone little beady, cunning eyes that opponents +feared and distrusted: this was Lucius Aemilius Paullus, the conqueror +of Illyria, the man who had barely escaped conviction for his +peculations, the colleague of Varro the butcher, a patrician of the +bluest blood in Rome, a knave in pecuniary matters, selfish and +ungoverned, but a brave and wary soldier from cothurni to crest. + +"You seem to be criticising a Roman consul: even my brother, Varro;" he +said again, for the three had only bowed in reply to his former speech. +"Are you not presumptuous?--you, Lucius Sergius; and you, Caius +Manlius--boys in war--and you, Decius, or whoever you may be--a man of +Varro's order, if I mistake not?" + +"Yes, my father, I criticise," replied Sergius, at last, for the others +said nothing. + +"Perhaps you were thinking that he has extended his front too far?" +said the consul, and there was infinite sarcasm in his tones. + +Sergius grew crimson under the taunting voice and the little, shifty +eyes. + +"I have ventured to say," he replied haughtily, "that the consul, +Varro, is not using our numbers as he might. As you have noted, the +front _is_ contracted, where we might easily lash around their flank +like the thongs of a scourge. Nevertheless had I known that the noble +colleague of the general was near me, I would have restrained my words." + +"Ah! then you have doubtless grown more respectful of commanders since +you disobeyed your dictator in Campania;" but now the anger in Sergius' +face told the speaker that the limit of endurance had been reached, and +his tone became less offensive. "That is in the old days, though, and +you _did_ run twelve miles with a broken shoulder: you see I know +all--only I am sure that you are not realizing how deeply your general +has studied the Punic wars, or perhaps you do not know how necessary is +depth to the battle that would stand against the great war-beasts. It +is possible, barely possible, that our most scientific commander has +forgotten that the enemy has no elephants here; but what is that to a +great genius? He has learned that Carthage wars with elephants, that +these are best met by deepening the files, and that we are about to +fight Carthage; therefore he deepens the files, though the last +elephant in Italy died two years ago in the northern marshes. If you +are beaten, you will at least have the satisfaction of being beaten +while fighting most learnedly." + +As Sergius noted the bitterness and agony in the voice that spoke, he +found his resentment giving place to pity for the hard, grim man who, +powerless to avert, yet saw clearly every cord of the snare into which +he was being driven. + +"Do we guard the camp, my father?" he asked, gently, when Paullus had +finished. + +The latter started from the gloomy stare with which he was regarding +the fast-forming lines. + +"I have been offered the command of the camp," he said, almost +fiercely. "I have refused it. Escape to the north would be too +easy--and I do not wish to escape. What do you think the centuries +would do if I came home beaten? I who escaped so narrowly before?" He +leered cunningly at his listeners; then his face grew set, and his +voice cold and even. "I have solicited command of the Roman cavalry. +We shall fight on the right wing, beside the river, and I do not think +many of us will ride from the battle. Varro commands the cavalry of +the allies on the left, and the pro-consuls"--he hesitated a +moment--"the pro-consuls market their beeves in the centre. You will +cross with me now. My volunteers ride about my body. It is time. It +is time." + +The breeze from the southward freshened every minute, and the red flag +lashed out angrily toward the sea. + + + + +XIV. + +CANNAE. + +The cavalry trumpets rang out their clear notes, and Sergius and his +companions threw themselves upon their kneeling chargers. Then they +rode out and down the bank, behind the consul who, with head hanging +upon his breast, had turned his rein the moment he had given the word. +What if the dust did swirl up in blinding sheets from the south? +Before them lay the Roman battle, horse and foot--such an army as the +city had never sent forth. What if its masses were somewhat cramped? +its front narrow? its general an amateur? They were to fight at last, +and how should a mongrel horde of barbarians, but half their number, +stand firm against the impetus of such a shock. A moment's hush; then +measured voices rose in calm cadence--the voices of the tribunes +administering the military oath to each cohort, "Faithful to the +senate, obedient to your imperator." What Roman could doubt that the +voice of victory spoke in the thunderous response! + +And now the clangour of cymbals and the roll of drums came up on the +breezes from the south, and, with them, a strange uproar of barbarous +shouts and cries. Then it was that the Roman legionaries began to +crash their heavy javelins against their great, oblong shields until +the din drowned everything else, and the thunder of Jove himself might +have roared in vain. + +Sergius had ridden up the bank, almost at the consul's rein, and his +eyes wandered eagerly over Varro's array. Eight full legions with +their quota of allies seemed welded into one huge column: Romans on the +right, Italians on the left. The sun was well up, and its rays played +upon a very sea of bronze from which the feathered crests rose and +shivered like foam. Far beyond the column, on the extreme left, he +could make out squadrons of allied horse, and then he turned to take +his place amid the cavalry of the city: young men well born, burning +with courage and ardour and wrath. Despite himself his heart rose with +a leap of triumph. A moment later he caught the little, beady eyes of +the consul looking through him, as it were, while the thin mouth +beneath writhed itself into a sneer. + +"You hope? That is well," said Paullus. "Young men fight better and +die better when they hope; but I will show you how a Roman soldier can +give up his life for naught. I would wish," he added with lowered +voice and speaking as if in self-communion, "that more of our horsemen +had adopted the Greek arms. Reed spears and ox-hide bucklers will not +stand long against heavy cavalry. A temple to Mars the avenger, if I +had but a front of Illyrian horse! See now! There are the scum!" + +His voice rose eagerly at the last words, and Sergius turned from the +dark face now flashing with a sudden animation, and looked southward +over the plain. For a moment the dust was too thick; then it seemed to +clear away, and the Carthaginian army burst into view. + +Undulating like the open sea and rolling steadily on like the long, +slow sweep of billows upon a level shore, the glory of barbaric war +drew near. On their left, resting upon the river's bank, rode the +Spanish and Gallic cavalry, strengthened here and there by a horse and +man in full armour like those of the Clinabarians; and the face of +Paullus clouded again when he noted what opponents he must meet: men, +horses, arms--all heavier than his own with the exception of a few +turmae newly equipped in the Greek fashion. Beyond them, thrown back +in echelon, marched Africans in little squares of sixteen front. These +had substituted for their own equipment the Roman spoils of Trasimenus +and Trebia. Then, and again somewhat in advance, came alternate +companies of Gauls and Spaniards spread out in long thin array; the +former stripped to the navel, their hair tied up in a tufted knot, and +bearing their great swords upon their shoulders; the Spaniards +glittering in their purple-bordered tunics of snowy linen. The waving +pikes of phalanges told of more Africans who seemed to lie in echelon +beyond, while far away, toward the low hills overgrown with copsewood +that formed the eastern horizon, clouds of swift-moving dust, amid +which shadows darted hither and thither at seeming random, marked the +presence of the wild riders of Numidia who were to face the horsemen of +Italy and of the Latin name. In front of all, the plain was dotted +with naked men advancing at regular intervals and bearing small +bucklers of lynx-hide--the famous Balearic slingers that always opened +the day of battle for Carthage. The heart of Sergius swelled within +him, beating hard and fast under the tension of the moment. Only a few +minutes more, and those magnificent armies would crash together, not to +part until the plain should be heaped with corpses that were now men; +until the gods should adjudge the sovereignty of Italy. Then he grew +calm, calm as the consul himself, and gazed enraptured upon the +picture, as if it meant no more than art and show--only the wind came +fresher from the south, and the fine dust, ground up by marching +thousands, smarted and blinded his eyes. + +Nearer and nearer they drew, with steady, slow advance, while Rome +stood still and awaited their coming. And now a commotion seemed to +start from the far distant south: the roar of voices, the blinding +flash of the sun on tossing swords, a cloud of dust distinct upon the +plain, a clump of horse-head standards rising amid it, and a group of +riders urging their galloping steeds along the invaders' front. Rich +armour of strange pattern shone among them, and, a length ahead of the +rest, Sergius could see a white stallion with close-cropped mane, and +hoofs and fetlocks stained vermilion, that danced and curvetted and +arched its proud neck under the touch of a master. He was not an +over-tall man, but his figure as he rode seemed well knit and graceful. +His armour was of brown-bronze scale-work, rich with gold and jewels, +while a white mantle fringed with Tyrian purple hung from his +shoulders; a helmet of burnished gold, horned and crested, gleamed like +a star upon his head, while, even at the distance, even through the +swirl, of dust, Sergius saw the crisp curled, black beard, and dreamed +that he caught the flash of dark, deep-set eyes. There was no need of +the beating of weapons against shields, no need of the roar and howls +and shrill screaming in a score of tongues to tell the stranger's name. +Most of the soldiers kept ranks, but here and there a Gaul would bound +forward, dancing with strange leaps and whirling his sword about his +head, to throw himself prone before and beneath the vermilion hoofs +that never paused or swerved in their gallop. Not a movement, not a +glance of the rider gave sign of acknowledgment or recognition; not a +look was cast upon the grovelling form, safe or hurt or maimed--only +the soldier's comrades howled their plaudits, mingled with laughter and +rude jeers whenever the devotee lay still or writhed or rose staggering +from some stroke of the vermilion hoofs. + +But when the horseman drew bridle before the extreme left of the +centre, and, with eyes shaded by his hand, gazed long and earnestly at +the Roman array, the plaudits that had greeted his passage died away +into low murmurs and then silence. "The general is studying the enemy. +Be silent! Who knows but he would commune with Baal and Moloch? Be +silent!" So the word ran around and through the African squares. + +Suddenly peals of laughter broke from the group of Carthaginian +officers that had ridden behind and who now clustered around him. The +calm that no devotion, no suffering, no danger of men could move, was +gone; the schalischim had turned from his measuring of the enemy to +smile and jest with his friends. Thereupon they threw back their heads +and laughed loud and long; and then the Africans noted it, and hoarse +cries of joy broke from their ranks. "The schalischim must be sure of +victory. Praise be to Melkarth!" Sergius saw a captain of one of the +squares run out and touch his forehead to the earth before his +commander; but no Roman heard the man's words pregnant with fate. + +"Now, my father, let The Lion's Brood lead the beasts of all the fields +to their feast. We hunger, father, we hunger!" + +And Hannibal had made answer, pointing northward toward the +plume-crested sea of blazing bronze, "Lo! friend; there are your meat +and wine." + +Then a new roar of acclamation broke upward and rolled away to the +east. Two richly armed riders parted from the group and dashed off: +Maharbal, light and slender, bending far over his horse's neck, rode +headlong in Numidian fashion to his Numidians; Hasdrubal, erect and +dignified, galloped to head the Gaulish and Spanish horse upon the +banks of Aufidus; trumpets, drums, cymbals, crashed out in mad, +barbaric discords; and, with their horse-head standards tossing amid +the forest of spears, the Carthaginian line drove forward to the attack. + +Running fast before the line of battle, Sergius could still make out, +even through the dust, those same naked men with lynx-hide bucklers, +dotting the plain at regular intervals, and each man's right arm seemed +always whirling about his head. The Roman light troops had pushed on +to skirmish, and now they began to fall back, though no arrow or +javelin could have reached them--could have flown to the foe. Sergius +watched in surprise their confusion and terror as they sought to plunge +among the legionaries or hide themselves behind the horsemen; nor had +they fled unscathed. Here a man ran by screaming and clasping his +shattered hand to his breast; then another staggered up, with arm +hanging broken at his side, while the big drops of blood fell slowly +from his fingers; and yet a third appeared, pale and helpless, +supported between two companions. + +Sounds, too, now dull and heavy, and again ringing and metallic, seemed +to punctuate the roar of the advancing host. Sergius saw a horseman +near him clap his hand to his forehead and plunge headlong to the +earth: horses reared and snorted, some fell with ugly, red blotches on +their breasts and throats; the clangour and the thuds came +faster--faster; for now the clay and leaden bullets of the slingers +fell in showers, like hailstones, and it was good armour that turned +them. + +Manlius had leaped down to aid a friend who was reeling helplessly, +with both eyes beaten out, and, a moment later, he approached Sergius, +holding up a slinger's bullet. The red had sunken into the lines of +the stamped inscription, and displayed them in hideous relief, "This to +your back, sheep!" + +"That is always the way with barbarians," sneered Marcus Decius. "No +blow without an insult--look! They shall have blows themselves, soon, +that will need no insults to piece them out." + +Paullus had watched with eagerness, with anxiety, for the signal to +advance. Varro seemed to hesitate, while the great masses of Rome, +lashed by the bitter rain of the slings, writhed and groaned in anguish +and rage; the light troops had disappeared, and the Balearians, now +close at hand, leaped and slung without let or hindrance. Then it was +that Paullus, waiting no longer, made a sign to his trumpeters. +"Scatter me that rabble!" he cried, and the cavalry clarions raised +their voices in one long, swelling peal of sound. + +"Close! close!" rose the shout of battle, and the Roman horse dashed +forward into the dust cloud--forward upon the slingers that suddenly +were not there, had vanished, as it were, into the earth itself. + +The straight trumpets and curved horns of the legions were ringing +behind them, stirred to life at last, but the horsemen did not hear. +What were those looming up ahead? Not naked slingers--armoured +cavalry! Hasdrubal with his Gauls and Spaniards were before them--upon +them; and all sense and volition were lost in the terrific shock. + +Line after line went down, as if at touch, while fresh lines poured on +over the heaving mass of men and horses, until those who were face to +face seemed to fight upon a hill. Fiercer grew the pressure, tighter +and more dense the throng; horses, crushed together, powerless to move, +snorted and tossed their heads in terror, while the riders leaned +forward and grappled with those opposite. Weapons first, then hands +clutching at throats were doing the deadly work, and the dead, man and +horse, stood fast amid the press, unable even to fall and become merged +into the hideous, purple thing beneath their feet. + +Mere weight, though, was beginning to tell. The human ridge that had +marked the joining of battle seemed far back among the enemy, and +squadron after squadron, in close array, breasted its top and plunged +down to mingle with the living or take their places among the dead. +The Romans were giving ground, slowly, stubbornly, but unmistakably, +and still, above the shouts and shrieks, the trampling and the clash of +weapons, the groans and the hard, short breathing, they could hear the +harsh voice of the consul, Paullus, urging his men to make battle +firmly. + +Backward, steadily backward; and now, in one of those mad rushes, in +which men who seemed immovably wedged were swirled about like the water +in a maelstrom, Sergius found himself close to the consul, with Manlius +but a few paces in front. The thin, cruel lips had writhed away from +the white teeth, the helmet was gone, and the scant, black hair was +dabbled with blood that flowed from a slight cut upon the general's +brow; the snake-like eyes sought those of the young patrician with a +look wherein exultation and despair were strangely mingled. + +"To the earth! to the earth, all!" he cried, at the same moment +plunging his sword into his horse's throat, and lighting firmly on his +feet, as the animal sank suddenly down. "We _must_ stand. Gods! where +are the legions? Clashing shields and waving javelins, while we are +cut to pieces! Gods! they shall pay for it!" Then he drew close to +Sergius' ear and whispered as calmly as if in the praetorium: "Learn, +now, a lesson of war, my son. Hannibal destroys us piecemeal, choosing +where he is strong and we are weak, while Varro allows _his_ strength +to stand and rest and wait for its turn to come. Down! down all!" + +Outnumbered, outarmed, borne down and back, the Roman cavalry still +fought, but the press had grown looser, the mass less dense; and now, +at the word of the consul, all that could hear his voice obeyed the +order of despair, ancient as the day of Lake Regillus. Man after man +sprang to earth. Here was freer swing for weapons, here was surer +foothold, better chance to stand fast, and, for a moment, the thronging +foe seemed to recoil before the determined onslaught. + +But it was not recoil. It was only the devouring of the foremost by +that red monster underneath. Who could recoil, with the squadrons +still pouring on, over the hill of corpses behind? Beaten, a man could +but die in his place, and that much they did. Many, too, had followed +the Roman example, leaping from their steeds and fighting hand to hand, +till the cavalry battle had changed into a thousand combats of man +against man. + +It was here that Caius Manlius fell. Sergius was but a few feet from +him when he saw the youth sway gently, and, bowing his head, sink down. +He had made an effort to push to his side, and then the front of the +enemy seemed to receive some new impetus and surged forward over the +spot. What mattered it? He had seen the red spear point peeping out +between his friend's shoulders. He was dead, as they would all soon +be, and the couch was purple and kinglike. At that moment, he felt his +arm gripped hard, and turned to look into the consul's face. + +"Do you not see it is over?" said Paullus, sharply. + +"How?" + +"We are falling back--_forced_ back--faster and faster. We are where +we first stood. Do you see that sapling by the river? I marked it +before we rode out. Soon we shall break; come!" + +"Where?" asked Sergius. + +"Where there may yet be hope, if the gods will it,--if they strike down +Varro: the centre, the legions. I do not believe they have fairly +advanced their standards yet." + +"Do we fly?" and, as he spoke, Sergius frowned darkly. + +"Fool! We _fight_. Later, perhaps, we shall die, but not here. In +the _centre_--" + +As he spoke, a new, swirling rush seemed to carry them away, still +together, first with furious violence, then more slowly. + +"Ah! it has come," said the consul, quietly. "This way. The dust is +blinding, but I think the sun is behind us." Pushing on and striking +right and left as he went, Aemilius Paullus fought a pathway through +flying and pursuing men. Sergius followed and once, when he saw the +consul cut down the boy who had stood near and talked to them that +morning, he stopped still and shuddered. + +Paullus paused and laughed at him over his shoulder. + +"A flying man in the path of a general is much worse than a dead one," +he said. "Besides, none of them can save his life in that +direction--so it is nothing." + +At that moment, indeed, the prophecy that no man of the Roman cavalry +would escape, seemed fair for fulfilment. Few fought on, and these +were soon ridden down, while Gauls and Spaniards thundered upon the +rear of such as sought safety of the rein, and slew them with steady, +measured strokes. Only the consul with perhaps a dozen others were, +for the time, safe. They were clear of the rout; within the protecting +reach of the great, legionary column, that was but just beginning to +move, and they turned, gasping for breath, and, with dazed eyes, +watched the flight and pursuit sweep by along the river bank. + + + + +XV. + +"WITHIN THE RAILS." + +It was then that Sergius first realized that Caius Manlius, his friend, +the brother of Marcia, was indeed dead; but the time for such thoughts +ivas short. Clenching his teeth in a paroxysm of anger, he again +turned to follow Paullus and Decius, who had passed into the ranks of +the legions and joined themselves to the personal volunteers of the +pro-consul, Servilius. + +The great column was moving now, steadily gathering impetus, and there +was little speech between the generals. Servilius gazed with gloomy +brows at the consul and the half dozen men that remained to him, and no +question as to the fate of the right wing was asked or answered. + +"How fight they on the left?" asked Paullus, after a moment's pause. + +"The allies skirmish with the Numidians," replied Servilius. + +"You mean that the Numidians skirmish with them," said Paullus. + +That was all, and the two soldiers turned to their task. + +The slingers' bullets fell no longer, or only scattering ones, dropping +from above, told that these hornets had fallen back and sought refuge +behind their lines; but the roar of battle rolled furiously from the +front. + +"It is the standards that oppose at last," commented Paullus. "The +ranks are not too close--yet. Let us go forward." + +Servilius protested, but the other waved him back. + +"Here is _your_ place who command, my Servilius," said the consul; and +a smile, sad rather than bitter, lit up the harsh lines of his face. +"It is I, having no command, who can justly ply the sword." + +Sergius followed, and in a few moments the increasing pandemonium told +that the front was not far ahead. The dust filled their eyes, and they +could see nothing beyond; but the signs were for the veteran to read. +Soon there was no more headway to be made through the dense mass; the +corpses of the slain were thick beneath their feet, half-naked Gauls +and Spaniards in white and purple mingled with the dead of the legions, +and still the column pushed forward and still the slain lay closer. + +"They give ground. We are driving in their centre," gasped Sergius. + +Paullus had been frowning grimly, but now he turned to Marcus Decius +and showed his wolfish teeth in his old-time smile. + +"What do you say, decurion?" he asked. + +"We drive them, surely; but--" + +"Yes, truly, _but_--do you hear those cries on the flank? We drive +their Iberians, their Celts; it is the Africans that let us plunge on +like one of Varro's stupid bulls: then they put the sword in our side. +Could you fight now? I tell you we are already driven within the +rails. If the gods keep Hasdrubal slaying my runaways, there may be +hope; if he be a general, there is none." + +And still the column's headway seemed hardly checked, though the cries +and the clashing of arms resounded, now, from both flanks as well as +from the front, while, in the depths of its vitals, men were crushed +together till they could scarce breathe. A rumour, too, like those Pan +sends to dismay soldiers, ran quickly from heart to heart, rather than +from lip to lip. It was that Hasdrubal had circled the rear and, +falling upon the allied cavalry, had scattered the left wing as he had +the right; that the Numidians pursued and slaughtered: but where now +were the cavalry of Gaul and Spain, the winners of two victories? A +sullen roar from the far distant rear seemed to answer; but the +language was one that few could read--few of that host. Oh! for an +hour of the veterans that slumbered on the shores of Trebia and +Trasimenus! Oh! for an hour of Fabius, who lingered at Rome, powerless +and discredited. Who were these that wore the armour, that wielded the +ponderous javelins of Rome's legions? From under the bronze helmets +gorgeously fierce with their great crests peered eyes--stupid, +wondering eyes dazed by the uproar, blinded by the dust; eyes wherein, +while as yet there was little of fear, still less was there of the +knowledge of danger to be met and overcome; eyes that had but lately +watched sheep upon the Alban hills, eyes that were used only to the +flour dust when their owners kneaded dough behind the Forum. + +Ahead, around, the standards were tossing as if upon the billows of an +angry sea. Was that a silver horse's head that flashed far to the +right? + +"Look!" cried Sergius, striking Decius with his elbow. + +"You can see better now," muttered the veteran. "The flour is bread, +and the bread of battle is mire kneaded of dust and blood." + +The eyes of Paullus were turned upward in strange prayer. + +"Grant me not, O Jupiter, my life this day!" + +It needed no eye of veteran to read the sentence that was writ. +Driven, at last, within the rails, as went the saying, there was no +room in all that weltering mass to use the sword, much less the pilum. +On every side the barbarians of Africa, of Spain, of Gaul raged and +slew--for even advance now was checked, and the Celts had turned and +lashed the front with their great swords that rose and fell, crimson to +the hilt, crimson to the shoulder, crimson to every inch of their +wielders' huge bodies. The Spaniards, too, were stabbing fast and +furiously, while all along both flanks the African squares, between +which the weight of the column had forced its narrow length, thrust +with their long sarissas and rained their pila upon the doomed monster +in their midst: a war elephant, wounded to the death, with sides hung +with javelins and streaming with blood, rocking and trumpeting in +helpless agony. + +Sergius watched the dull, hopeless look deepening in the eyes of the +young soldiers. They reminded him of the beeves in the shambles of the +elder Varro. Even the voice of Pan could not wake such men. Were they +not there to die for the traditions of Rome? It was true that every +path leading to Pan's country bristled with spears, but only a few +could fully know this, and these awaited their turn with the rest. + +The press seemed to loosen somewhat. Perhaps the assailants had drawn +back to gain breath for a final onslaught; but, instinctively, the +staggering lines of the Roman column opened out into the space +afforded, and its four faces writhed forward bravely, pitifully. It +was then that Sergius saw the consul for the last time. He had turned +back from where he had forced his way to the head of the column; his +arms were battered and blood-stained, and he reeled painfully in his +saddle, for Paullus had mounted again, that he might the better be seen +by the legionaries. His wandering eyes took in every detail of their +hopeless plight; the last sparks of fire seemed to die out in him, and +his head drooped upon his chest. Then, slowly, he dismounted, having +ordered his horse to kneel, and the beast, unable to rise again, rolled +over on its side. Paullus watched it with almost an expression of +pity, and then dragged himself to a flat rock and sat down. + +Decius had sought to aid him, but the other thrust him rudely back. +"It is only the smaller bone," he said. "One of their accursed +stingers hit me." + +At that moment a rider covered with foam and dust and blood dashed up +to the group and, reining his steaming animal to its haunches, leaped +to the ground. + +Paullus raised his eyes. + +"It is time for you to escape, Cneius Lentulus," he said. "You have a +horse." + +"It is for you, my father; that this day be not further darkened by the +death of a consul. My horse is good, and there are still gaps between +their squadrons. Ride to the east--" + +"And you?" + +"I am but a tribune." + +"And a young man, my Cneius. Where is Varro?" + +"Fled." + +"And the pro-consuls?" + +"Both fallen." + +"And you would have it said, my Cneius, that the Republic degenerates? +that not one of this year's consuls dares die with his men, while both +of last year's were Romans? Truly, it would be a much darker day +should I escape with Varro than if I die with Regulus and Servilius; +besides, I have no humour for further charges and trials, in order that +the rabble may vindicate their favourite butcher. But do you go, +Cneius, and tell them that you have seen me sitting in my colleague's +shambles." + +There were tears in Lentulus' eyes, and he still strove to persuade his +general to accept the horse, but, at that moment, new shoutings and +clashing of arms announced what must prove the final attack. + +"They come again, my father," said Decius calmly. + +The roar of battle swelled up, all about the doomed column. In front +and flanks, Africans, Gauls, and Spaniards charged in unbroken lines, +and soon forced the deploying but weakened maniples back into their +weltering mass; in the rear, the attack was less continuous, for +Hasdrubal's horsemen were exhausted with slaying, and he hurled them in +alternate squadrons, now on this point, now on that, wherever the Roman +line showed relics of strength or firmness. So the front worked back, +driven by sheer weight in the direction where the pressure was least. + +Paullus still sat, with drooping head, faint with fatigue and loss of +blood, while Decius, Sergius, and Lentulus stood by him, helplessly +awaiting the end. A rush of fugitives swept by and almost overwhelmed +the wounded man; but Decius passed his arm around him, and the press +slackened. + +"It is time for you to mount and ride, Cneius Lentulus;" and the consul +raised his head again, while the old-time spirit of command flashed in +his eyes. "You shall be my envoy to the fathers. Bid them fortify and +garrison the city; go--" + +A new rush broke in upon his words,--a rush, in which the whole front +was borne back a spear's length beyond them. Sergius was thrown down, +but some one raised him, dazed and stunned, and seemed to bear him +along. A moment, and he found himself standing once more upon his +feet. Cneius Lentulus and his horse were gone; Paullus and Marcus +Decius were left alone far beyond--no, not alone. He saw the tunics of +the Iberians, now all as purple as their borders, thronging around; he +saw his general and his comrade give their throats to the sharp, +slender swords; and then he saw, far ahead, amid the Carthaginian +syntagmata, a swarthy, smiling face with crisp, curling beard; he saw +the brown-bronze corselet rich with gold, the meteor helmet with +ostrich plumes floating between its horns, the snowy mantle bordered +with Tyrian purple; and he saw the white head of the horse whose feet +needed now no dye of art to stain them vermilion. All the fury of +battle, all the madness of revenge overwhelmed him in an instant; +despair was gone, thoughts of past and future were swept away by the +surge of one overmastering idea: he must reach that man and kill him. +He looked around at the scattered, reeling maniples. A standard bearer +was lying at his feet, striving with his remnant of strength to wrench +the silver eagle from its staff, that he might hide it under his cloak; +but the death rattle came too quickly. Sergius picked up the standard. + +"Come," he said, "there is the enemy." And then, without a glance to +note whether his appeal was regarded, he rushed blindly forward. + +It was a discipline inspired by tradition rather than taught by drills +and punishments that came to the Roman recruit, and now it played its +part. These peasants, these artisans whose eyes had seen naught save +unaccustomed horrors through all the day, turned at once to answer the +summons of the eagle. Sergius heard the feeble shout of battle that +rose behind him, heard the scattered clanging of sword and shield, and +when he struck the long pikes of the first square, it was with the +force of half a dozen broken maniples welded into a solid mass. + +Still the sarissas held firm. Perhaps two lines went down, but the +pila rained their slant courses from the rear; the feeble rush was +stopped, and the legionaries struggled helplessly upon the spears. +Sergius saw nothing but the dark, bearded face among the +squares--scarcely nearer than before. Had he not read in a little book +written by one, Xenophon, a Greek, and purchased, at great cost, at the +shop of Milo, the bookseller in the Argiletum, how Oriental armies won +or lost by the life or death of their leaders? He would kill Hannibal! +Would to the gods that Paullus had fallen in the Cinctus Gabinus! +Paullus, too much of an infidel to think of such old-time immolation; +but there was yet one last appeal. + +Seizing the tough staff of the standard almost at the end, he whirled +it around his head and let it go at full swing; the silver eagle +flashed in the light of the setting sun, as it described great arcs, +and plunged down amid the hostile ranks; a hoarse cry went up: the very +deity of the legion was amid its foes! no Roman so untried as not to +hear its call. The short swords hacked and stabbed among the spears; +the first square swayed and rocked, shivered into fragments, and, +hurled back upon the second, bore it, too, down in the mingled rush of +pursuers and pursued. On every side of the dwindling band of +assailants, front, flanks, and rear, the pikes dipped and plunged, the +Gallic swords hissed through the air, the Spaniards ravened and +stabbed; but, to the Romans, flanks and rear were nothing: it was the +front, the Libyans, the lost eagle. + +And now, at last, it was won; the advance had been checked by the +closer welding of the syntagmata, half his men were down; but Sergius, +still unhurt, had stooped and raised the standard, kissing its crimson +beak and wings. Then he looked up. + +Half the space between himself and the bearded horseman had vanished, +and the latter was no longer talking carelessly with those about. His +steady gaze was fixed upon the young Roman, as if studying the exact +measure of strength that remained to him. There was nothing else for +it. Again the great staff described great circles through the air, and +again the crimson eagle soared and stooped, and the white stallion +reared and snorted, as it struck the earth before him; again the +shattered fragment of an army hurled itself, wounded and weary and +bleeding, among the ever thickening spears; yes, and forced its way a +quarter, half the remaining distance, until Sergius, whose eyes had +never for a moment forsaken those of the Carthaginian, saw them grow +troubled, saw the black, bushy brows draw together. Then his enemy +turned and spoke a few hurried words to an attendant, gesticulating +freely, until the man whirled his horse about and drove back through +the throng. When Sergius looked into the face of the general again, it +wore a disdainful smile--the smile of a Zeus that watches the sons of +Aloeus pile mountain on mountain in the vain effort to storm Olympus. +Again Hannibal was careless and unconcerned; again he laughed and joked +gayly with his attendants; his soldier's eye had set the limit of +Rome's last paroxysm, and it fell short of the spot where he sat--not +by much, but enough. All that remained was for the arrows of Apollo to +do their work, and now he had set these to the string. + +Wearily and yet more wearily the wolves bit and tore their way; then +they came staggering to a stand, three spear lengths from the lost +eagle, and then the pressure behind seemed to slacken, and the serried +spears in front bore them slowly backward. + +All was over. Sergius' eyes, dim and bloodshot, wandered, at last, +from the contemptuous smile that had held them, and rested upon the +score of men, for the most part wounded, that remained about him. For +an instant the spears and swords ceased their work, and the dense mass +of lowering faces that surrounded the last of the legions rolled back. +Lanes appeared between the syntagmata; a chorus of wild cries swelled +up--swept nearer, and the furious riders of the desert came galloping +through every interspace. To them had been granted, for a mark of +honour, the ending of the battle. It was only a single rush, a +brandishing and plunging of javelins retained in grasp, a little more +blood spattered upon the horses' necks and bellies. No legionary was +standing when the tempest had gone by, and there, among his men, with +face turned from the red earth to the reddening sky, lay Lucius Sergius +Fidenas, in slumber fitting for a Roman patrician when the black day of +Cannae was done. + + + + +PART II. + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE QUEEN OF THE WAYS. + +There was much bustle and confusion throughout the little inn at +Sinuessa. August was just closing, and the midday summer sun beat down +too fiercely to permit of comfortable travel save toward morning or +night. The inn-keeper had hurried out and stood in the roadway, bowing +and wreathing his face with smiles of welcome, while, behind him, were +grouped his servants, each bearing some implement of his or her +calling--a muster well calculated to impress the wayfarer with the +assurance of comfort and good cheer. + +The occasion of all this demonstration was a party that had halted, +apparently for refreshment and the customary traveller's siesta; a +rheda or four-wheeled travelling carriage, closely covered and drawn by +three powerful horses yoked abreast. Two armed outriders, one +apparently a freedman and the other a slave, made up the company, the +former of whom, a stout, elderly man with gray hair and beard, had +reined in his horse before the obsequious host, while the other +remained by the carriage wheel, as if to aid the driver in guarding the +rheda's occupants from intrusion. + +The innkeeper, short and fat, was breathing hard from the haste in +which he had sallied out, but his words came volubly:-- + +"Let the gentlemen alight and enter--or, if they be ladies, so much the +better. They shall make trial of the best inn along the whole length +of the Queen of Ways. Such couches as they have never seen, save, +doubtless, in their magnificent homes, fit for the gods to lie +upon!--such dishes!--such cooking! guinea-hens fed and fattened under +my own eye, mullet fresh from the water with all greens of the season, +and such wine as only the Massic Mount can grow--" + +Here, however, he paused to take breath, and the freedman succeeded in +interrupting the flow of words. + +"By the gods! will you be silent?" he said. "Perhaps we shall try your +fare, if you do not take up the whole day in telling us about it. +First, however, it is necessary for us to learn certain things. How +many miles is it to Capua?" + +The innkeeper's face took on a grieved look in place of the beaming +smile of a moment since, but he answered promptly and humbly:-- + +"The matter of twenty-five miles, my master." + +"At what hour do they close the gates?" + +The innkeeper glanced back at the group of domestics with a frightened +expression. + +"That is a military question," he said. "How can I answer it in these +times? It is dangerous to talk about such things." + +"Not dangerous for you," insisted the other, rather scornfully. "Since +you Campanians have become pulse-eaters, not the wildest Numidian would +dare disturb you. The cruel one is very tender of you all--_now_; but +wait till Rome shall fall, then you will know what his tenderness is +worth--when you are all busy grinding corn for Carthage--" + +"By all the gods! speak lower--if you must say such words," whispered +the innkeeper, white with terror. "If one of my servants should betray +me! Like enough the gate is closed at all times. It is said that +Hannibal enters the town to-night." + +"Hannibal in Capua to-night!" came a voice from the rheda--a woman's +voice, softly and delicately modulated, yet deep and rich in its tones. +At the same moment the curtains were drawn aside, and she looked out, +beckoning imperiously to the would-be host. "Come near, my good man, I +wish to speak with you more closely." + +The innkeeper stood as one dazed, with open mouth and bulging eyes. He +had looked upon great and beautiful ladies before, for many such +travelled by the Appian Way, but the beauty and the nobility of this +face seemed to him more than mortal. With all the grace, all the +freshness, all the radiant charm of the girl Marcia, were now joined +the calm and deep-eyed crown of womanhood. The perfect lines that +could so perfectly respond to playful or tender emotions were still +unmarred, and yet sorrow that had left no other trace had endowed them +with new possibilities of devotion and high resolve. + +"Come," repeated Marcia, and the little inn-keeper trotted up to the +rheda and stood watching her with an expression of canine wonder and +subservience in his big, dull eyes. + +"Did I not hear you say that Hannibal was to be in Capua to-night? +Have these false Campanians indeed carried out the treachery rumoured +of them?" + +The man had forgotten all his fears of a few moments since, nor did the +slur upon his race rouse aught of indignation. Held fast under the +spell of the dark eyes before him, he made haste to answer:-- + +"The rumour, madam, that a traveller left with me some hours since is +that Marius Blossius, praetor of Campania, has led all Capua out to +meet Hannibal, who is to feast to-night at the house of the Ninii +Celeres, Stenius and Pacuvius--" + +"But how was this done?" she interrupted. "It was said at Rome that +some few evil spirits, like Vibius Virrius and Pacuvius Calavius, were +ill-disposed, but surely the senators of Capua are faithful?" + +"I do not know as to that," said the fellow, with the stubborn dulness +of a peasant; "but I know it is hard to see your property and goods +destroyed and to hold fast to allies who do not protect you--and a +Roman garrison at Casilinum all the time. They say this African is +kind to his friends, and then, too, he sent home my son without ransom +when the young man was prisoner in the north--some battle by some lake +that I forget the name of--" + +"Such talk is well enough for the poor-spirited rabble," cried Marcia, +impetuously; "but was there none of noble blood in the city? None who +could compel duty?" + +A look of cunning crossed his face as he answered:-- + +"Pacuvius Calavius took care of that. He cooped up the senate in the +senate-house, by telling them the people sought their lives. Then he +went out and spoke against them to that same people, and offered to +surrender them for death, one by one; and then, when they had given up +hope, he made a clever turn and persuaded us to forego their just +punishment. So it is said in Capua that Pacuvius Calavius bought the +senators for his slaves, and not one but runs to do his bidding. +Senators, you see, do not like the rods and axe any better than humbler +people like the sword and the torch." + +Marcia eyed him with disgust. Then her brow cleared. "What could be +expected from such a man," she thought. "Surely not exalted patriotism +or high ideals--especially when the class question had been brought +into play against public faith and public honour. Mere stupidity would +yoke him to the side that seemed to promise the most immediate +exemptions or rewards. It was possible, though, that the situation +might not be as bad as it was painted; that there might still be +faithful men in the second city of Italy--men who, while at present +held down by the skilful plotting of their enemies or the hopelessness +of open resistance, were yet waiting, vigilant to seize upon the first +promising opportunity to recover the lost ground. On the other hand, +innkeepers were apt to be a well-informed class, as to public +happenings, and this man told his tale with parrot-like precision. At +any rate, there was nothing to do but reach Capua as soon as possible; +for, the Carthaginian commander once within the walls, no one could +tell what precautions and scrutiny might be established at the gates." + +She turned to the freedman. + +"There is no time for resting and refreshment, Ligurius. We must not +lose the chance of entering the city before nightfall;" and to the man +who rode at the wheel: "Come, Caipor. A little weariness will not hurt +us." + +The driver's whip curled about the horses' flanks, and they started +forward; but the disappointed innkeeper laid hold of one of the poles +that supported the covering of the rheda and gasped and sputtered as he +ran:-- + +"What now! Would you die of the heat? Am I to lose my custom because +I am good-natured and tell the news?" + +Caipor turned in his seat and raised the thong used to urge on his +animal; but Marcia, hearing the clamour, thrust the curtain aside again +and, motioning the slave to restrain himself, threw several denarii to +her would-be host. At the same moment, the horses suddenly quickened +their gait, and the pursuer, keeping his hold, was jerked flat upon his +face. + +"Be cautious!" shouted Caipor. "There is silver in the dust you are +swallowing," and they hurried on, unable to distinguish whether the +half-choked ejaculations that followed them were thanks or curses. + +There was a short silence punctuated by the cracking of the whip, the +clatter of hoofs, and the crunching of wheels along the pavement; then +the curtains once more parted slightly, and Caipor, watchful to serve, +saw Marcia's beckoning hand and drew closer to the rheda. + +"Bend down," she said, and, as he obeyed, she whispered:-- + +"You were my brother's servant, Caipor, and you bear his name. Will +you help me to avenge him?" + +The slave's eyes flashed, and he straightened himself on his horse. +Then he lowered his head to hear more. + +"Ligurius," she continued, "will be brave and faithful to my family in +all things. I want one who will be faithful to what is greater and to +what is less--to Rome and to me. I seek safety for the Republic; and I +seek revenge for those who are dead. Will you help me when Ligurius +halts?" + +"The cross itself will not daunt me," he said simply. "Whatever you +shall do, lady, I will be faithful to the death." + +"For me, perhaps, to the death, Caipor," she answered; "but for you, if +the gods favour me, to life and to freedom." + +His cheek flushed with the rich blood of his Samnite ancestors, and, as +Ligurius glanced back from his post at the head of the party, the young +man made his horse bound forward, lest his attitude and perturbation +might bring some suspicion of a secret conference to the mind of the +old freedman. + +So they descended within the hemicycle of hills. The heights of Mount +Tifata began to fall away on the left, the rough, precipitous line of +crags, sweeping around toward the east, seemed to dwindle into the +distance, even as they drew nearer, while the low jumble of Neapolitan +hills, beyond which towered Vesuvius with its fluttering pennon of +vapour, rose higher and higher upon the southern horizon. A turn of +the road, a temporary makeshift, led them around Casilinum, whose +little garrison lay close, nor opened their gates to friend or foe. +There, at last, in the midst of the level plain that stretched down to +the sea, lay Capua, gleaming white and radiant beneath the brush of the +now descending sun. + +Gradually the great sweep of city walls grew lowering and massive. It +still lacked an hour of sunset, and the travellers had not urged +themselves unduly through the midday course. The foam, yellowed and +darkened by dust, had dried upon the horses' flanks save only where the +chafing of the harness kept it fresh and white. Marcia leaned far out +of the rheda and gazed eagerly at the nearing town, Caipor seemed +scarcely able to restrain his eagerness to dash forward, while Ligurius +shaded his eyes with his hand and viewed the spectacle like a general +counting the power of his approaching foe. Even at this distance they +saw, or began to imagine they saw, some indescribable change,--not a +flurry of motion or excitement,--they were too far away to note that, +had such been present. It was as though above, around every tower and +battlement hung an atmosphere of hostility and defiance; yet this was +the friend of Rome through days of weal and days of woe,--the second +city of Italy. + +Nearer and nearer they drew. The horses threw their heads in the air, +and, presaging rest and provender, quickened their pace, without +urging. Suddenly an exclamation burst from the lips of Ligurius. + +"Look!" he cried. "It is true. They are indeed here." Marcia and +Caipor strove to follow his hand. "My northern eyes, old though they +be, are better than yours of the south. Do you not see them--one, two, +three! Gods! They are thick on the walls." + +"What? in the name of Jove!" exclaimed Marcia, impatiently, and then +Caipor started. + +"I see! I see now," he cried. "Ah! mistress, they are the standards +of Carthage; the horses' heads, yellow, with red manes. Gods, how they +glitter! Gold and blood--gold and blood!" + +"Drive on," said Marcia, for they had all drawn rein, half +unconsciously, and she lay back, behind the curtains of the rheda. + + + + +II. + +THE GATE. + +A harsh cry of command or warning rang out ahead, and the rheda stopped +short with a jolt. Ligurius had thrown his horse upon his haunches and +then backed him so as to take post at that side of the vehicle +unprotected by Caipor; but, a moment later, the rush of a dozen tall +figures thrust them both away, the curtains were torn aside, and Marcia +looked out into savage faces and great, staring, blue eyes. Three or +four overlapping circlets of iron just above the hips seemed the limit +of these men's defensive armour, and the skin of some animal was thrown +about the brawny shoulders of such as had not replaced their barbaric +mantles with the Roman military cloak; the hair of each, black or red, +but always long and indescribably filthy, was caught up in a knot at +the top of the head, whence it streamed away, loose or matted, like the +tail of an unkempt horse; their feet were bare, and their legs were +covered by linen breeches bound close with leathern thongs. It needed +not the great broad-swords slung about their shoulders to tell them for +Hannibal's Gauls--creatures scarcely half human, whose name brought +terror to the Roman maiden of the days of Cannae, as the sight of them +had carried death or slavery to her less-favoured sister of the blacker +days of the Allia. + +But Marcia showed little of womanish weakness. To the jargon of a +dozen voices--a jargon that sounded like the yelping and barking of a +pack of dogs--she opposed a cold and dignified silence. A dozen hands +reached out to touch her, as they would touch something strange and +admirable; but she drew back, and the rude hands and staring, blue eyes +fell before the flash of her indignation. + +At that instant, a man strode forward, hurling the soldiers from his +path to right and left, or striking them fiercely with his staff. +Taller by almost half a head than the others, his richer vesture and +arms, but, above all, the gold collar about his neck and the gold +bracelets upon his arms, marked the chief. Standing by the rheda, he +met Marcia's look of proud defiance, for a moment; then his eyes +shifted and seemed to wander; but, cloaking with martial sternness the +embarrassment of the barbarian, he spoke in Gallic:-- + +"Who are you?" + +Unable to understand the question, much less to answer it, she turned +away and ignored both the man and his words. Again the look of +indecision and embarrassment returned to his face; but, glancing round, +he saw Ligurius struggling in the hands of his captors, and caught some +words of Gallic in his half-throttled remonstrances. + +"Bring him," he said shortly, with a motion of his staff, and the +freedman, who had been roughly pulled from his horse, was thrust +forward, his clothes hanging in tatters, and his face bruised and +bleeding from his efforts to break loose and guard his mistress from +intrusion or insult. + +"Who is _she_, and who are you?" asked the chief, sternly; for his +eyes, now that they looked into those of a man and an inferior, had +regained all their wild fierceness. + +Ligurius hesitated, partly from lack of wind and partly from a doubt as +to how much or what it would be wise to tell. + +"Speak!" cried the other, impatiently. + +Marcia threw aside the curtains which had been allowed to fall back in +their place, and leaned out. The scene looked critical; the Gaul's +face was working with nervous irritation, while his followers, scarcely +recovered from his sudden onslaught, stood around in a ring, some +fingering their swords, and with expressions whose wonder and stupidity +seemed fast giving place to the lust of blood and plunder. Caipor had +been knocked senseless at the beginning, and the driver was in the +hands of several soldiers. + +Ligurius looked inquiringly at his mistress. + +"He asks who we are," he said. "What shall I say?" + +"Ah! you plot to deceive me," cried the Gaul, losing control of his +temper, and, before Marcia could answer, he struck the freedman down +with his staff. One of his followers shifted his sword belt, and, half +drawing the great weapon, stepped forward; but Marcia had sprung from +the rheda, and stood, with clenched hands and flashing eyes, above her +prostrate attendant. + +"Bandits! Murderers!" she cried. "Does your general permit you to rob +and kill travellers that seek to enter a friendly city?" + +Understanding the act rather than the words, the soldier halted, and +the chief's eyes began again to shift nervously; but soon an expression +of mingled lust and cunning came into them. + +"You are beautiful," he said. "You shall not die, you shall dwell in +my hut." + +Marcia shuddered at the glance and change of tone. He reached out his +arms, tattooed in blue designs, and made as if to advance. She drew a +dagger from her girdle. Infuriated by the sight of what he took to be +a hostile weapon, the barbarian's sword was out in an instant. Then he +perceived that the dagger was directed not at his breast, but at the +woman's. The point of the great sword, already half raised, dropped +slowly to the ground, and a new look of embarrassed amazement took the +place of the momentary glare of savage fury. + +How it would have ended never transpired, for a commotion at the gate +attracted the attention of all. A small detachment of soldiers was +advancing, at a leisurely pace, headed by a young officer whose arms +blazed with gold and silver. No Hannibalian veterans these. As they +came near, even Marcia could note the sleek, soft look of the men, and +their listless, muscleless gait; while their leader's hair and person +literally reeked with perfumes. His eyes turned slowly from the huge +Gaul to the woman; then a flash of animation lent them light. + +"How is this?" he asked. "Why this tumult? Who are these people?" + +The Gaul shook his head defiantly, as if ignorant of the speech of his +interrogator, while his followers began to nudge each other, pointing +out the round limbs and fresh complexions of the Capuans, and laughing +scornfully. + +The young officer flushed, and, turning to Marcia, repeated the +question. + +"I am a Roman. Do you not understand my tongue?" she said. + +He glanced fearfully at the Gauls. Then, reassured by their evident +failure to comprehend, he regained his assurance and answered:-- + +"Surely, lady, an educated Capuan cannot fail to understand all +languages, civilized or barbarous. I speak the Greek, the Roman--all; +only permit me to beg you to be less frank in naming your city: 'Roman' +is a dangerous word to use here. What has led one so beautiful and so +accomplished to run the risk of such a journey? Do you not know that +Hannibal and his men are in Capua? That is why these beasts have been +able to disturb you; but fear not," he continued, as she was about to +speak, "_I_ also am here to protect you," and he accompanied the words, +with a glance that left the nature of the protection offered more than +equivocal. + +Suppressing her mingled feelings of disgust and amusement, Marcia +answered haughtily:-- + +"May Jove favour you for your offer; but has it come that the expected +guest of Pacuvius Calavius needs protection at the gate of Capua?" + +Amazement and deference were at once apparent in his changed manner. + +"Ah!" he said slowly, as if trying to gather his wits; "that is +different--very different. It is a double regret that these vermin +have troubled you; but you are safe now." + +Marcia found herself wondering whether he would allude to the Gauls so +scornfully had they been able to understand his words. + +The Capuan turned to the Gallic chief, who, together with his +followers, had drawn nearer. + +"Make way!" he cried. "Loose the slave that drives." Then to his own +men, "Raise up the two that are hurt;" and to Marcia, "And you, lady; +will it please you to return to your carriage?" + +But the Gauls, although evidently understanding the nature of his +orders, showed no disposition to obey them. On the contrary, at a few +words from their chief, they pushed closer yet, and some of them even +began to jostle the soldiers of the Capuan guard. A light blow or a +sharp word bade fair to precipitate a conflict that, despite the +numerical equality, could hardly be doubtful in its outcome, when a +sharp, commanding voice rang out behind. + +All swung around, as if to meet a blow, and the press opened. A rider, +glittering in arms of simple but rich design, and mounted upon a black +horse, was advancing from the gate. Two Spaniards, who rode several +spear lengths behind him, were his sole escort; but, alone or at the +head of a legion, it was all the same: no eye of Gaul or Capuan saw +aught but the one horseman; and yet it was not easy to tell wherein the +force lay. He was a young man, probably twenty--possibly twenty-five, +for life advanced quickly under the sun of Africa. His figure was +slender and boyish, his face thinly bearded, a lack which was +accentuated by the beard being divided into two points. Yes, now they, +saw; it was his eyes that had dispelled the boast and swagger of the +Gaul, the superciliousness of the Capuan, and whatever of brawling +boldness had been in either. These eyes were black and large and +flashing with courage and energy and the pride of noble birth. No +detail of the scene seemed to escape their first glance, and he asked +no question, as he rode into the crowd. + +"Ardix," he said, addressing the Gaul in his own tongue, "back to your +gate! and you," turning to the Capuan officer and changing his language +with ready ease, "it would be wise for you to consider the unwisdom of +quarrelling with our veterans." + +There was just enough of contempt in the inference of the last word to +check the flow of explanation and complaint that was rising to the lips +of the young exquisite. The newcomer had turned his back. The Capuan +saw his followers slinking away with Ardix and his Gauls. It was hard +to lose a chance of talking with a great man, and surely a few of the +words he could choose and speak so well would compel the Carthaginian +to value him at his worth. Still, there was something that impressed +upon him the unwisdom of speech, and, after a moment of embarrassed +indecision, he turned and strode away after the rest, seeking to +conceal the humiliation of his retreat by the swagger of his gait and +the fierceness of his expression--which there was no one to see. + +While this little comedy was passing, he, whose advent had been its +occasion, was regarding Marcia fixedly; but he now looked into eyes +that neither quailed nor wandered before his own. At last he spoke, +and in Latin:-- + +"I am Mago, the son of Hamilcar. What brings a Roman woman to Capua in +these days?" + +This youth, then, was the famous brother of Hannibal; the commander of +the ambush at the Trebia. His voice was cold, harsh, and metallic, and +in his eyes there was none of the rude lust of the Gaul or the polished +licentiousness of the Capuan. They burned only with the fires that +light the souls of patriots and leaders of men. + +"I come," said Marcia, slowly, "for several reasons, and believing that +Carthage does not make war upon women." + +The eyes lost nothing of their cold scrutiny at the implied compliment +or the covert reproach. + +"And what reasons?" he asked sharply. + +"For the one," replied Marcia, and she was conscious of an effort in +holding her voice to its steady inflection; "that my house is bound in +hospitality to that of Pacuvius Calavius--" + +Mago's brow cleared for an instant. + +"Our friend," he said. "He is married to one of your Claudians." Then +it darkened again as he continued: "Well, and you seek him for what? +To tempt him back to Rome?" + +"I seek him," said Marcia, boldly, "because I am wise. Have I not seen +the narrowing of Rome's resources? the quarrels of the factions? I +have come from there, and I tell you that, if Hannibal have patience +until the spring, it is Rome that will beg him to take her. What part +has a woman with a man who cannot protect himself! Let her look for a +new defender, if she be wise." + +An odd look had come into the Carthaginian's face as she spoke, a look +more scornful but less threatening. + +"You speak true woman's philosophy," he said. "That is the philosophy +of these times. I am convinced that there _were_ days, and women--but +pah! now it is only glory that is worthy to be a man's bride. Come, I +will lead you to the house of Calavius." + +Ligurius had recovered sufficiently to remount his horse, while Mago's +attendants had laid the still senseless Caipor in the rheda to which +their master now assisted Marcia. Then he rode on, by the wheel of the +carriage. + +As for the daughter of Torquatus, not even the consciousness of her +purpose, and of the high and bitter motives that had shaped it, could +drive the touch of shame from her cheeks. It galled her when she +considered how she must appear to this man--a mere youth and a +Carthaginian, and it galled her the more that she should care for his +opinion. That she had inspired only his contempt, was quite evident; +and she, whose glances had always gone straight as the arrows of Love +to the hearts of men, now found herself more annoyed by the +indifference of an enemy than she had been by the dangers from which he +had rescued her. She was not certain whether it was with a desire to +gain in his sight, or only in the pursuance of her plans, that she +spoke again. + +"Does my lord think worse of me for what I have said?" + +"I thought you a woman; now I know you for one," he replied, carelessly. + +"Ah! but my lord did not ask as to my other reasons for seeking the +camp of Carthage." + +"That is a matter for Calavius to look to. If you come as an enemy--so +much the worse for him." + +"And if I come as a woman who would escape a hated marriage--to seek a +lover who has won her heart afar off?--" + +"Calavius?" laughed Mago, the boy in him suddenly flashing out. "They +say even the old men here are hunters of women. Have a care of the +Claudian, though. She may bite." + +Marcia flushed crimson. Mago was not an easy subject for female +influence. Besides, she began to realize that the respect she could +not help feeling for the attitude of the young soldier might hamper +whatever efforts she could put forth to ensnare and control him. His +closeness to Hannibal, however, would make his conquest as advantageous +as it seemed difficult, and it was some such thought as this that +prompted her next words. + +"Happy the leader and brother that has so single and so firm a +counsellor!" + +She spoke as if half unconsciously, but Mago shot a sharp glance +straight into her eyes. Then he answered, carelessly:-- + +"My brother is the captain-general of Carthage, and I am only a young +soldier. Doubtless he is wise to ignore my opinions; and yet, had he +harkened to Maharbal and myself at the close of the day of Cannae--had +he let us press on with the cavalry and followed, with such speed as +the gods could grant,--I am convinced that within five days he had +supped in the Capitol." + +His tone changed, as he spoke, to one of fierce enthusiasm, and his +listener shuddered. Then, sinking his voice, he went on, as if +speaking to himself:-- + +"Even now--even now--before the winter closes in, there might be a +chance. Later, they will recover strength and courage, and we--we +shall become--Capuans." + +Marcia hid her agitation behind the curtains of the rheda. She was +terrified by his vehemence and by the justice of his reasoning. Here +was the man whose whole influence would be pitted against the purpose +of her journey; and her woman's intuition told her that no argument or +allurement could turn his mind. It was with a feeling of relief that +the halting of the vehicle before the porch of a stately house checked +the unwise retort that trembled on her lips. Later, she could oppose +him better than if, yielding now to an impulse to controvert his views, +she had aroused suspicion. + + + + +III. + +PACUVIUS CALAVIUS. + +The house of Pacuvius Calavius was well situated, near the centre of +the town, accessible to the Forum, and upon a street of considerable +width. The porch of the ostium was supported by four columns +delicately fluted and painted, the lower half in dull crimson, the +upper in ochre. A porter, in costume much richer than those worn by +most free Romans, lounged on a stool set upon the mosaic pavement, and +roused himself lazily to shuffle down and inquire why the rheda had +halted before his door. + +"Ah! It was a lady"--and he smirked with insolent meaning--"who +desired to see his master?" He threw out his hands with a deprecatory +gesture. "The gods were, in truth, very friendly to Pacuvius Calavius; +but then he was very old--a complaint which few could guard against. +Oh!--" + +Mago had signalled to one of his horsemen, and the soldier's lash +whistled and wound itself about the slave's neck. All the fellow's +laziness and insolence vanished, and he fell upon the pavement, +writhing and whimpering. + +"Lash the hound till he does his office," said Mago, quietly; and the +short hand-thong rose again. + +But before it descended a second time, the porter had rolled and +scrambled to his feet, and was rushing to open the door. He vanished +with wonderful speed, and, a moment later, there appeared a man +somewhat above middle age, with a close-curling, white beard, and clad +in a robe so heavily embroidered with gold as to leave the ground +colour a matter of conjecture. With keen eyes that shifted nervously, +he hurried down toward the rheda. Then, noting Mago, and that he was a +Carthaginian of rank, he paused, uncertain, and his salutation savoured +somewhat of over-respect. + +"A lady?" he said hesitatingly;--"a lady who desires to see me?" + +Marcia parted the curtains and leaned out, smiling. The newcomer +stopped short and gasped in astonishment. + +Mago glanced sharply from one to the other, and his lip curled. He +signed to his attendants, and, with an obeisance that had in it +haughtiness rather than courtesy, he rode away. + +Glancing cautiously up and down the street, Calavius approached the +rheda. + +"And is it the lady Marcia who is to honour my house?" he began, in +words that carried more welcome than did the tone. "A dangerous +journey, in these days, and a dangerous destination. Surely you are +welcome--and who was the young man that rode with you? Did he know +anything of your name and birth? I trust you were cautious?--" + +Marcia laughed. + +"Do not fear, father;" Calavius frowned slightly at the venerable +title, and shook out his robe that the odours might permeate the air. +"Do not fear but that I was as cunning as your Campanians. I told him +I was a Roman--wherefore not? For the matter of that, he divined it. +He is Mago, the brother of Hannibal--" + +"And he brought you here?" cried Calavius, trembling now in good +earnest. "Surely it was done to ruin me; but whose plot?--whose plot?" + +"It is not necessary I should be your guest," said Marcia, with +well-feigned indifference. "Doubtless there are inns; but he guided me +here because I asked for your house, imagining that my father's friend +would have a welcome for my father's daughter." + +Calavius instantly recovered his composure. + +"Ah! dear lady," he began, in a voice from which all the tremor had +vanished, "and do you dream for a moment that you should taste of other +hospitality than mine? Will you not descend--nay, I will help you--and +let us enter quickly. These are indeed troublous days, and every door +creaks a warning; troublous days, with each man's hand against his +neighbour, plotting by necessity, often, rather than by preference. +What! your attendants are hurt?" Again his voice shook. "A brawl? +that is bad; but come within. It is there you shall tell me of it all." + +So speaking, he assisted Marcia to descend, and, summoning his +servants, gave the rheda and its guardians into their care. Then he +led the way into his house, carefully fastening the street door behind +them, for the porter evidently had not halted in his flight, short of +the slaves' apartments upstairs. + +Marcia followed, wondering at the magnificence of the decorations. She +passed through passages lighted by hanging-lamps of gold and silver and +bronze; past walls rich with frescoes in black and yellow and red; +panels and pictures such as Caius Fabius Pictor could never have +dreamed when he ornamented the Temple of Safety; frescoes that so far +surpassed the work of Damophilus and Gorgasus upon the walls of Ceres, +as these had surpassed the art of Pictor himself. Then came courts +surrounded by rows of fluted columns, set with fountains that threw +light sprays of scented water over the flowers and the garments of the +passers; then more passages, with paintings of even greater merit and +delicacy of execution, mingled, here and there, with scenes where the +delicacy was of the execution alone, and that brought hot blushes to +her cheek. Amid all, were scattered richly carved pedestals bearing +beautiful statues done in marble or bronze, or great vases, black or +terra-cotta, with intricately composed groups of figures in the +opposite tint. It came like a veritable revelation to one who had +known nothing but the crude art of the Etruscans and the cruder +handicraft of her own people, tempered, as they were, by the taste of +such Greek artists as fell so far short of their native ideals as to be +willing to waste their skill upon barbarians. She had heard of the +wealth and luxury of the Capuans, but it had never entered her mind to +imagine that the luxury of Capua could demand, or the wealth of +Campania purchase, pictures whose distance and proportions were true to +life itself, and statues that seemed veritably to live and breathe. +Her eyes were big with wonder and admiration, when her guide and host +turned sharply to the right and ushered her into a small room that +looked out through a row of slender pillars into a portico beyond, and +thence into a garden that seemed a very forest of small rose trees. +Around the walls ran a shelf upon which were set a number of circular +boxes, while lying upon the table were several bulky rolls of papyrus, +in parchment wrappers stained yellow or purple. + +"My library," said Calavius, in a careless tone, but with a wave of his +arm that showed his pride in its possession. "Three hundred and +eighty-nine works--the best, and of the most excellent authors:--poets, +philosophers, historians, rhetoricians--all that is worth reading. No +man in Capua has a better show of literature--unless, perhaps, it be +Decius Magius," and his voice sank, as if the name had brought him back +to a realization of circumstances. "Here I can read without +disturbance, and here we can talk without fear of interruption or +listening ears. There are slaves always stationed at both ends of the +portico, to insure quiet." + +"And you are the man who has dared to turn Capua over to the enemies of +Rome! Truly, I cannot understand." + +Marcia could not restrain the words, and Calavius flushed. + +"Do not condemn me for timidity," he said quickly. "These are +dangerous seas for a man of mark to steer his craft upon. +Carthaginians and other barbarians are not citizens of Capua--no +refinement--no civilization. Much has happened to disturb me--to +unsettle my nerves. Decius Magius has been parading in the Forum, +defying our friends,--and who with him but my own son, Perolla, casting +discredit on my plans, and danger on himself! It was with the utmost +difficulty I could drag him away--and then, what does the Carthaginian +do but fly into a rage, and demand an audience of the senate, with a +view to punishing Decius. Nothing but my influence and that of Virrius +and the Ninii have persuaded him to forego his purpose for the time; +and that, only, by pleading the joy of this day, and that it should be +given to nothing save festivity and feasting. Truly, my mind misgives +me. Still, they have sworn that no Carthaginian shall have any power +over a Campanian, and--was not that a noise in the portico?" + +He rose and, gliding out to the row of pillars, looked up and down. +Marcia regarded him with contempt and pity. + +"And yet," she said, "it is for this terror and distrust that you have +betrayed Rome. Were there none of our soldiers and citizens in the +town?" + +"Do not speak of it," whispered Calavius, growing even paler;--"a most +frightful misfortune! They were taken in arms, or at their +business--what matters it which?--and confined in the baths for +safe-keeping." + +"And then?" said Marcia, for he paused. + +"And then some evil-disposed persons turned on the vapour." + +"They were killed?" she cried. + +"Not so loud!--not so loud! for the love of all the gods! It was a +mistake, a terrible mistake!" + +"Ah! guest-friend of my father," said Marcia, sadly; "I fear it is a +mistake that Rome will exact a heavy price for. You say truly that it +matters not how they were taken." + +"But I swear it was no will of mine!" he cried, and then, fearing lest +he had committed himself too deeply, he went on. "In fact, lady, they +say too much, who set this revolution at my door; who say that I was +the mover of all. Was it not Vibius Virrius who first suggested it? +Was it not Marius Blossius, the praetor, who led out the people to meet +the Carthaginians?--and see how my son is still with Rome! No, by +Bacchus! there are many here a thousand times more guilty--if it be +guilt, and on whom the rods and axes must fall first if there be +justice under the gods. You can bear witness at Rome to that." + +"There will be rods and axes enough for all," said Marcia, grimly, +filled with horror and disgust for the deeds told of, and with contempt +for this garrulous, timid plotter of treachery and murder. Then, +suddenly, she noted a sinister glitter in his eye, and, at the same +time, remembering her mission, she checked her words and went on, "Rods +and axes enough for all who are so feeble as not to take the +sovereignty of Italy when it lies within their grasp." + +"What--what is that you say?" he said eagerly, and the threat fled from +his face. "The sovereignty of Italy? Ah! it is a great prize! Who +shall deny it to us? Are we not the second city? Have we not allies +the strongest in the world?--a general the greatest? and when all is +over, who so fitting to rule as the first man of the first city?--for +Rome will be no more. Ah! I will deal with them gently, though; I +will conciliate--unless I be opposed too obstinately. You shall tell +them that. Are they meditating surrender? Do they not see that we +must prevail?--but," and his tone changed again to distrust, "I have +forgotten to ask, amid my anxiety about matters of state, why you have +come to Capua--a Roman--at such times?" + +Marcia laughed. She was ready for her part now, and this adversary, at +least, she despised,--perhaps too much, for he was a cunning man, in +his way, and when the matter demanded only chicanery against other +cowards. + +"Ah! my Pacuvius, a politician like _you_ asks me that?" she exclaimed +gayly. "Is it for a woman to remain in a ship buffeted and rocking in +the storm? a ship that must founder soon, if it be but left to itself?" + +"Is that truth?" he asked eagerly, but with a tinge of suspicion in his +voice. + +"Surely, it is truth: as it is truth that I, with many other women, +have gone out to such cities where there are friends of our +houses--cities friendly to the new powers, friends strong enough to +give us shelter and protection. It is my happy fortune to have found a +city and a friend the strongest of all." + +Calavius smiled complacently and stroked his beard. + +"Yes, you have done well," he said slowly. "I am not without interest +with the captain-general of Carthage, and there may be yet greater +things in store for me. I will go now and send female attendants to +you, that you may seek the bath and your room, and have such +refreshment as you desire. I will talk with you again later, but +to-night there is the banquet at the house of the Ninii. Ah! it will +be the greatest feast that Capua has seen--a banquet to Hannibal and +the Carthaginian leaders. Farewell." + +He turned to go, but she rose quickly and laid her hand upon his robe. + +"You have not heard all, yet," she said, casting down her eyes and +speaking in halting phrases. "Do you truly believe that it is _only_ a +woman's fears that have brought me to Capua? You have not questioned +me closely. That is not worthy of your wisdom. It is hard for a woman +to tell all things unless they be drawn from her." + +He stared with eyes full of wonder. + +"What do you mean?" he asked. + +Then, throwing her head to one side, she laughed, so that Sergius +himself would scarcely have known it from the laugh of the +free-hearted, jesting Marcia of other days. + +"Oh, my father, you a Capuan and a man learned in the ways of women! +It is pitiful--this littleness of your knowledge. Come, tell me now, +as to a pedagogue, what is it that leads a woman to all places, through +all dangers?" + +"Surely, my child, it is love," said Calavius, vacantly. Then his face +took on an expression, first of furrowed surprise and then of gratified +vanity, an expression that brought the hot blush to Marcia's cheek, +even while she struggled to restrain her contemptuous mirth. His +manner changed at once to one of insinuating gallantry, which she +hastened to check before he should commit himself. + +"What is it," she went on again, glancing down that he might not see +and read her eyes; "what is it that makes women love men? What, if not +strength and courage? I am a Roman, my father; but Roman men are no +longer fit mates for Roman women. Where but in the camp of Carthage +shall I find one worthy of my beauty? It is there I seek my lover." + +Disappointment lowered on the face of Calavius. He had noted her +beauty, long before she had referred to it; but now he noted it with a +more distinct desire, and the words, "my father," which she had used, +though but a customary term of respect, grated the more harshly upon +his ears. Still, controlling himself, he asked:-- + +"And which man of our allies has the lady Marcia chosen to bless with +the love that is too high for an humble Italian?" + +She looked the siren herself, as she answered:-- + +"Surely, my father would not learn the secret of his daughter!" +Calavius winced. "Believe, only, that he who has been loved at a +distance is noble and powerful. However, if so be that my lord would +learn the truth, let him take her to this banquet. I have heard often +that much liberty is allowed to the women of Capua; why not, then, to +the guest of the noblest of the Capuans?" + +The mind of Calavius had been divided. With the first rebuff to his +rising passion had come the impulse to avail himself of his power and +of the helpless position of his guest to gratify his spite or his +pleasure as she might choose to make it. Then, at the suggestion that +she loved and had come to seek a Carthaginian of rank, he thought of +the disfavour--even peril he might incur by such a course should an +enemy or a slave learn the facts and expose him; and, finally, he fell +into a cunning casting up of the influence he might gain over the +lover, whoever he was, to whom he should be instrumental in +surrendering such perfect beauty. Again he winced at the thought, but +then, what more likely than that her silly, woman's vanity aspired to +the captain-general himself? and he, Pacuvius Calavius, might hope to +be the confidential go-between. What profit and influence might not be +found in such a relation!--so personal, so beneficent! After all, +there were many beautiful women--even among his slaves, and what was +the difference between woman and woman compared to the dream of Italian +sovereignty that hovered before his eyes! He knew well that no wife or +daughter of a Capuan would be present at that banquet--only the most +beautiful of the city's hetairai--but what of that? This girl was a +Roman--an enemy; the claims of hospitality between his people and hers +would be shivered in the coming crash of arms. What mattered it if to +gain a point--a great point--he wrenched loose his personal obligations +a few days sooner? Yes, Marcia should go to the banquet, and, if +Hannibal desired her, then he, Pacuvius Calavius, would surrender her +into his arms. He knit his brows and spoke:-- + +"What you ask, my daughter, is truly difficult to compass, nor do I +know that any women or of what class will be present. Trust, however, +that all my power shall be at your service to gain any wish of your +heart,--and, as you know, I am not powerless,--only remember that it is +your will that I am doing. I will send a servant who shall lead you to +your chamber. Rest, prepare, and expect my return before the third +hour. Farewell." + +Marcia did not detain him. She noticed the wealth of odours that his +fluttering gown had left behind, and her contempt and disgust deepened. + + + + +IV. + +THE HOUSE OF THE NINII CELERES. + +The rustle of garments aroused Marcia from a sleep wherein had been +more of bitter revery than of rest; and, glancing up, she saw, at the +entrance of her apartment, two girls, evidently slaves. They had +knelt, with arms crossed upon their breasts and downcast eyes. + +"Will my mistress be pleased to place herself in the hands of her +servants, that she may receive refreshment and whatsoever she desires?" + +The girl's voice was soft and musical. Marcia rose, and, with a slight +inclination of the head, indicated her acquiescence; then she followed +her new guides through new halls and rooms, around and through the +colonnade, to a part of the house beyond the garden. Here were the +apartments of the bath, and, under the skilful hands of her attendants, +she felt the fatigue and blights of the journey passing from her. No +such artists of luxury were known at Rome as were these slave women of +Capua; new refinements were revealed at every step--refinements that +seemed to culminate when the hair-dresser began her work. First came +the anointing with the richest odours deftly combined from a dozen +vials of ivory or fine glass; then the crimping and curling with hot +irons, the touch of which served also, as the attendant explained, to +consume whatever coarseness clung to the perfumes and to bring out +their finest and most delicate effects. Meanwhile the Roman simplicity +of Marcia's wardrobe and jewel-case had been thoroughly explored, not +without some scornful side glances on the part of the Capuan women, and +she who was in charge of the tiring announced their contents to be +quite inadequate to dress a lady for a banquet of state--an +announcement which brought more smiles than blushes to Marcia's face. +Still, despite her half-veiled contempt, there was nothing to do but +resign herself absolutely into the hands of such competent authorities, +and, besides, she could not say that she found the process altogether +displeasing. + +The elaborate structure of curls and frizzes had now been confined in +place by a net of fine gold thread, in which were set, at regular +intervals, pearls remarkable for their colour and perfect spherical +form; then a dozen long pins with carved gold heads were passed through +the net, and above and around all was bound a diadem of thin-beaten +gold ornamented with intricate open-work tracery. Finally, the +hairdresser, having bade Marcia behold herself in the polished silver +mirror which she held up, retired with an expression of serene +self-approbation upon her face, and gave way to other attendants. + +One of these bound the smallest of jewelled sandals upon feet that were +too small, even for them; another produced a long palla or sleeveless +tunic of apple tint ornamented with feather patterns, and fastened it +with amethyst brooches at the shoulders. Last, the head tirewoman +herself came to perform what was, after the hair-dressing, the most +delicate of all these operations--the adjustment of the cyclas or +over-robe, a garment of the finest texture and of a shade known as +wax-colour, through which the tint and ornamentation of the palla +produced an effect of inimitable beauty. A slender, vine-work design, +embroidered in gold, bordered the cyclas, and it was in arranging so +that the course of this would form harmonious lines, wherein the skill +and difficulty of the task mainly lay. + +A final appeal to the mirror followed, and then, with Marcia's +approval, the work was over. She was robed, indeed, for a Capuan +banquet, and in a manner her simple Roman taste had never dreamed of. + +As yet Calavius had not returned. She sat in the portico of the +garden, awaiting him, and time was now afforded her to think of her +plans, the risk she ran, and the objects to be gained. Not since the +resolve had first found place in her mind had she wavered and feared as +now, and an intolerable repugnance began to possess her. + +Darkness had veiled the city for several hours, but it was the darkness +of a southern night and of a city in festal mood. The stars seemed to +stand out from the blue-gray vault above, as if reaching down to the +earth--whether in pity or anger, she could not tell. Around the city +itself hung the luminous aura of its lights; the cries of revellers +sounded from the neighbouring streets,--even the rush of feet,--while, +to the eastward, the glow of the Carthaginian watch-fires seemed to +reach upward to meet the rays of the stars. Yes, these were hostile to +the invaders! She knew it now. They were the glittering points of +Roman pila descending upon the foe--pila driven by the hands that +mouldered amid the red mire of Cannae. Surely those men approved of +what she was about to do! Was not Sergius among them, and would he not +will her to make good, by her beauty, what the sacrifice of his own +strength had failed to accomplish? What interest had he, now, in her +as a woman, as a mistress, as a wife? Greater thoughts must inspire +the shade that was once her lover: their common city, its life and +power, the destiny of the world that depended upon the preservation of +both of these; and still she could not banish the feeling of doubt, of +disapproval. Perhaps Calavius would not return, or perhaps he might +not be able to gain for her permission to attend the banquet? + +A commotion at the street entrance, the sound of approaching footsteps, +and the rustle of a gown seemed about to answer her question. The next +moment, her host stood before her and surveyed with astonished approval +the appearance she presented. + +"You are very beautiful," he said slowly and as if thinking with regret +that he was surrendering such perfection for mere influence and power. +"I have spoken of you and your wish, and Stenius and Pacuvius--the +Ninii Celeres--consent to your presence. The litters await us in the +vestibule, and it is time that we set out." + +Marcia rose, and he led her back through the halls and courts. + +"Who will be there?" she asked, as they approached the street door. + +"All of especial note, except Vibius Virrius and Marius Blossius. They +are away, busied about matters of state. Mago also has just departed +on a mission to Carthage. There will be no Campanians save our hosts, +myself, my son, Perolla, and Jubellius Taurea, the bravest of our +horsemen. Of our good allies, you shall see Hasdrubal, Maharbal, +Hannibal-the-Fighter, Silenus the Sicilian, who is to write the history +of the wars, Iddilcar the priest of Melkarth, and the great +captain-general himself--" + +"Come, let us hasten," said Marcia, quickly, as if fearful lest her +resolution might forsake her while there was yet chance to withdraw. + +A moment later and Calavius had assisted her into a gorgeously +caparisoned litter. She hardly noticed the rabble that thronged round +the door as she passed out, and whom the slaves of her host seemed to +keep back with difficulty. Still, she was conscious of nudgings, +looks, and gestures that made her blush, though the words that +accompanied them were unintelligible. Calavius was furious and paused, +as if to give orders for harsher repression. Then a voice called out +in coarse jargon--half Latin, half Campanian:-- + +"She is pretty, my Pacuvius! Venus grant her to restore your youth!" + +With an effort, he twisted his features into a smile. + +"May the gods favour your wish, my friend!" he said. Then, plunging +into his litter, he clapped his hands, for the bearers to proceed, and, +lying back among the cushions, ground his teeth in rage. + +"Ah! I must play to them--now. Later I shall remember and know how to +avenge. The lump of filth! Who knows, though, but that he spoke +wisdom? Perhaps I am truly giving up the hope of my youth to others." + +Meanwhile the bearers were running swiftly through the streets; that +is, as swiftly as the crowds and their condition and humour permitted. +Torches gleamed everywhere, and, from time to time as the curtains +parted slightly, Marcia caught glimpses of the scene. The city had +abandoned itself to the wildest debauchery--a debauchery that had about +it more of the desire to drown unpleasant thoughts and haunting fears +than of spontaneous exultation or mirth; and their drunkenness seemed +but a garment, thrown over the head to shut out the approaching spectre +of Roman retribution. All Capua presented to her the spectacular +results of a turbulent democracy exalted to power; for the vagaries of +the Roman plebeians seemed as nothing beside the unbridled insolence of +this populace. Here was Pacuvius Calavius, who had triumphed by their +aid over a senate more than half in sympathy with Rome; and now, +recognizing his litter, they thronged around it, calling out familiar +greetings, or even sheer vulgarities, pulling the curtains aside, +kissing their hands to him, and, from time to time, compelling his +bearers to pause while they slobbered drunken kisses upon his garments +and person. No sign of true respect greeted their leader; it seemed as +if the mob recognized him only as the creature of its whim, to be +upheld as a facile puppet or cast down by the first savage gust of +discontent. + +As for Calavius himself, he, too, fell readily into the part assigned +him. His face was wreathed in a constant smile, his lips spoke only +compliments, his hands waved greetings, until, at last, Marcia lay +back, and, closing her eyes, refused to see more of her host's +degradation. + +Suddenly the litter-bearers paused and set down their burdens. In +distance the journey had been short, but the many enforced halts had +made it seem as if the whole city had been traversed. They were now +before the porch of a house that was, if possible, even more +magnificent than that of Calavius. Every column was twined with +garlands, flowers hung in festoons from the architrave, incense steamed +up from brazen tripods set on either side of the entrance. In front +and around the entire insula, the streets were packed dense with a +seething crowd, save only for a small space before the vestibule, where +was stationed a guard of Africans equipped in the manner of Roman +legionaries. These were rude, wiry soldiers, scornful of civilians and +their fancied rights, but, above all, contemptuous of the soft +Campanian mob that arrogated so much and could command so little. At +first the populace had tried to browbeat and play with them, and the +soldiers had sallied out into the street and killed a couple of the +most talkative, wounding half a dozen more. Now the cowardly Capuans +stood back in awe, giving passage whenever the strangers called for it, +and hardly daring to whisper among themselves as to what manner of rule +they had invited to destroy them. Were it not for this summary +treatment it is doubtful whether any of the guests would have been able +to gain the entrance--least of all Calavius, who was looked upon as +their peculiar creation and mouthpiece, and at whom a hundred +complaints were volleyed (in low voices, be it said) as he made his +slow way through the press. + +Glad to escape at last from a position at once embarrassing and +dangerous, he now made haste to escort Marcia between the files of +foreign guards, into the atrium, where the Ninii Celeres--smiling +hosts--had stationed themselves to receive the guests that had been +bidden to so important a festivity. Thence he led her, muffled as she +was, to a vestiarium opening to the left side, where were already some +half-dozen women, whose attendants were adding the finishing graces to +toilets disarranged in the litters. One of these latter was assigned +to Marcia's aid, but a few touches to her hair and a slight +readjustment of the cyclas were all that was needed. + +Meanwhile, the Roman was watching, with deep interest, the group in the +court of the atrium. She had taken a position from which she could +have an unobstructed view through the doorway, and her attendant had +evidently informed herself as to the identity of the strangers, and was +anxious to win approval by communicating her knowledge. + +"That is he, most beautiful lady; the one with the long, white tunic, +at the right of my masters. Is he not poorly dressed for so great a +man? Who would imagine him of any consequence at all?" + +While the girl spoke, Marcia was regarding earnestly, and for the first +time, the chief of Carthage, the conqueror of Trebia and Trasimenus and +Cannae--of Sempronius and Flaminius and Varro. She saw a man slightly +above the middle height, well built, with strong, aquiline features and +thick, black, curling beard and hair, though the latter was worn away +at the temples by constant pressure of the helmet. It was a face that +combined deep thought, immeasurable pride, and absolute self-poise and +inscrutability--a face that would have been handsome but for the +disfiguring effect of the eye lost in the marshes of the Arnus. +Perhaps it was this that lent it something of its prevailing expression +of sadness; perhaps it was a realization of responsibilities met and to +be met and a premonition of the inevitable end. His dress was, as the +maid had so scornfully commented, plain in the extreme--a striking +contrast to the celebrated magnificence of his armour and military +equipment. Now, a simple, white, tunic-like garment, relieved by a +narrow border of gold, descended to his feet, while a slender gold +fillet was his sole ornament in addition to the seal finger-ring and +heavy earrings, which he wore in common with his companions. + +The latter formed a group hardly less interesting than their leader, +and the girl pointed them out, one by one, and made her approving or +slurring comments. There was Hasdrubal, coarse-featured, middle-sized, +and corpulent, whose garments gleamed with purple and gold, and whose +ears, fingers, and neck glittered with a profusion of jewels. Him +Marcia's informant evidently regarded with admiration approaching to +awe, although his skill as manager of the commissariat, and his +exploits as a soldier when occasion demanded, were probably unknown to +her. + +Maharbal, slight and agile, with plain, dark robe and few jewels, with +hair dressed high, diadem of plumes, and beard worn forked in the +Numidian fashion, attracted but passing comment. He was doubtless a +savage from the desert and of little wealth. Another of the generals, +however, seemed to arouse more positive sentiments: a giant in size, +with scarlet tunic, and loaded with gold chains and rings and gems, his +dark, ferocious face towered above the heads of his companions. The +woman's voice sank to a whisper as she said:-- + +"That is the one they call Hannibal-the-Fighter. They say he never +spares an enemy, and that he eats the flesh of those he kills. May the +gods grant that my masters shall wean him to-night from the love of +such hideous, barbaric fare!"--and yet, with all her horror, Marcia +almost smiled to note how the girl looked upon this brute with more of +woman's feeling for man than she bestowed upon any of his better +favoured and more famous compatriots. + +From these four the Roman's eyes wandered to a fifth Carthaginian, who +seemed to complete the tale of guests of that nationality. Her +informant had passed him by in silence, and had gone on to point out +Jubellius Taurea, Pacuvius Calavius, and his son, Perolla--the only +Campanians present besides the hosts of the occasion. When the +category was completed, however, she called the maid's attention to the +omission. + +"He?" said the latter, lightly; "the man in the violet tunic? He is +nothing--a priest of one of their gods whom they call Melkarth." + +He was a tall, gaunt man, and he stood directly behind Hannibal, and +kept his eyes fixed upon the pavement, as if studying the intricacies +of its mosaic pattern. + +Silenus, the Greek rhetor, made the last of the group. + +And now, at a signal from the hosts, the company turned and followed +them in single file toward the rear of the house. + +"They will send for you when they have reclined," said the attendant, +in answer to a glance of inquiry from Marcia; and, a moment later, the +summons came. + +Walls, floors, ceilings, every part of the house through which they +passed, seemed covered with roses clustered, festooned, and superlaid. +Suddenly they found themselves at the entrance of the great banquet +hall, where two triclinia were set facing each other, with room for the +servants to pass between and minister to the wants of the feasters. + +At the table to the east--that of honour--reclined Stenius Ninius, in +the middle place of the middle couch, with Hannibal himself at his +right, the place of honour above all. Marcia was led to the head of +the lowest couch, next to the Carthaginian leader, where she found +Pacuvius Calavius reclining below her, as the phrase went; while on the +couch directly opposite lay the priest of Melkarth in the lowest place, +and Perolla in the highest. The other places, below Pacuvius, between +Stenius and the priest, and between the priest and Perolla, were +assigned to the women, while the other table, over which Pacuvius +Ninius presided, was arranged in similar fashion. + + + + +V. + +THE BANQUET. + +Marcia had felt an instinctive shrinking when she saw that the women, +also, were to recline, after the manner of the dissolute Greeks, +instead of sitting, as she had been taught to consider the only decent +posture for a Roman maid or matron. Then the thought of her mission +brought the blush surging to her cheeks, whence it receded, leaving +them pale with a sterner resolve. Was not love of country the greatest +virtue? It was time to school herself, to shrink at nothing in that +cause. As she took her place, she noticed that the priest of Melkarth, +who lay directly opposite, had been regarding her fixedly. + +She could see his face now, and it was not a pleasing one. The Semitic +features, fine and noble in their best form, but capable of greater +depths of degeneration than those of any other type, were in his case +exaggerated to an extreme degree of coarseness. The mouth was large +and badly formed, the forehead low, the small eyes peered out snakelike +from under heavy, puffy lids. The nose alone was cut with any measure +of fineness, and that projected, wide-nostrilled, and aquiline as the +beak of a bird of prey. It would have been difficult to imagine a face +more gross and sensual in its lines, and the look of low admiration and +eagerness which it now wore, was well calculated to bring out the +sensuality in its most repulsive form. Marcia felt her cheeks burning +under the fixedness of the man's gaze, and, looking down, she struggled +to compose herself by a close study of the gorgeous coverlid of the +couch,--a fine Campanian texture, dyed scarlet, and heavily embroidered +with figures of birds and beasts and flowers, worked into an elaborate +design. + +Even then, his eyes seemed to burn through her hair, through her brain, +down into her heart, and she found her will revolting more violently +than ever against the possibilities involved in her mission. + +The voice of Hannibal, addressing some conventional compliment to +Stenius upon the perfection of the arrangements, came as an intense +relief, for the others all turned toward the speaker, and, a moment +later, the slaves passed around with silver basins and ewers, pouring +scented water upon the hands of the guests and drying them with dainty +flickings of filmy napkins. Vessels of gold and silver and fine +earthenware burdened the tables, while at each end of the garden stood +a butler in charge of several large amphorae. Those at the north end +were half buried amid imitation mountains, peaked with real snow +wherewith the wine was to be cooled, while those at the south were +surrounded by more than tropical verdure, with the braziers and vessels +of hot water beside them, ready for mixing the warm draughts. + +And now the slaves hurried hither and thither, bearing costly dishes +with elaborately dressed viands: dormice strewed with honey and poppy +seeds; beccaficoes surrounded by yolks of eggs, seasoned with pepper +and made to resemble peafowls' eggs in a nest whereon the stuffed bird +was sitting; fish floating in rich gravies that spouted from the mouths +of four tritons at the corners of the dish; crammed fowls, hares fitted +with wings to resemble Pegasus, thrushes in pastry stuffed with raisins +and nuts, oysters, scallops, snails on silver gridirons, boar stuffed +with fieldfares, with baskets of figs and dates hanging from his tusks, +sweetmeats, cold tarts with Spanish honey--these and a hundred other +dishes, strange or costly, followed each other in quick succession, +and, all the while, the carvers flourished their knives in time with +music, now of instruments, again of choruses of boys and girls. The +butlers, too, had not been idle, and the cups were constantly +replenished, first with the warm and, later, with the cold mixtures. + +Yet, though both men and women ate greedily and drank deeply, a gloom +seemed to hang over the feast. The Carthaginians, whether influenced +by native dignity or by a real or simulated contempt for their hosts, +were reserved and silent, while the Capuans seemed, at one moment, +forcing themselves into strained merriment, and, at another, cowering +before the cold eyes that watched their efforts with scarcely veiled +indifference. With fear on the one side and distrust upon the other, +the chances for hilarity and good fellowship looked scanty enough, and +yet Stenius Ninius was too much a man of the world to yield readily to +untoward social conditions. + +Clapping his hands, he cried out, as the head butler bowed before him:-- + +"Now, my good Cappadox, let us have no more of these native vintages. +Good though they were, they but serve to cultivate the taste for the +wines that cement friendships such as ours. Henceforth pour for us +only the Coan, Leucadian, and Thasian, and see that you select those +amphorae whose contents are toothless with age." + +A rough laugh rolled up from the other table, and the voice of +Hannibal-the-Fighter broke out with:-- + +"It is well said, host. Truly I was wondering if we had been drinking +from the famous cellars of Capua. We washed our horses with better +wine in the north." + +Stenius flushed. Then he smiled. + +"And, Cappadox," he went on, in an unruffled voice, "do you send what +remains in my cellar of the vintages we have been drinking, to the +horse of my worthy guest." + +At the giant's discourteous words, Hannibal himself had started from +the mood of thought in which he had seemed well-nigh buried. A quick +glance shot from his eye, and his brow furrowed. Then the courtly +answer of Stenius relieved the situation, and he turned to his host. + +"You must pardon rough words to rough soldiers, my friend. We of +Carthage have had but slender chances to avail ourselves of Greek +culture and urbanity. We are mere merchants and warriors--not men of +letters or of social manners." + +The hulking savage grew purple and trembled under the rebuke of his +chief. Twice he essayed to speak and then discreetly gulped down the +words, for Hannibal's face, though calm and courtly, showed a hardening +of its lines which meant much to those who knew him. + +As for the Campanian, he raised his hands in voluble deprecation of the +apology. + +Did _he_ not realize that but for soldiers and merchants, letters and +social manners would never have come into being? It was the privilege +of so brave a warrior as Hannibal-the-Fighter to say what he pleased, +and when and where. Ordinary rules were only for little men. Besides, +the best of Campanian wines were truly all too poor for heroes whose +souls were already attasted to the nectar of the gods. + +The suppressed fury and shame of the offender melted away under the +balm of these honeyed words, and, laughing loudly but with some +constraint, he tossed off to his host a cup of the wine last brought. + +And now Hannibal seemed to shake himself loose from the bonds of +silence and thought, though his conversation still showed the trend of +his mind. He turned to Calavius. + +"Thirty thousand foot and four thousand horse form an excellent array, +and yet I should imagine that the second city in Italy could do even +better--in case of need." + +The attention of hosts and guests became tense at once, though Marcia +could note that the motives were diverse. + +Calavius seemed nervous and flustered. + +"There was a time when that was undoubtedly so, my Lord," he said +hastily; "but, now, many of our young men have fallen in the wars, and +many are serving with the enemy, unable to escape and doubtless in +serious danger--" + +"Three hundred horsemen," interrupted Hannibal, dryly, "and my spies +inform me that they are likely to continue serving Rome--by choice, as +would doubtless many of your well-born at home--like this fellow, +Magius," and his brow darkened ominously. + +The Campanians moved uneasily on the couches. + +"Magius is a traitor and will be dealt with in due season," said +Stenius. "It is friends and festivities first with us, and enemies and +punishments later." + +"Yes, Magius shall be dealt with," echoed Hannibal; but the +acquiescence brought no relief to his hearers. Why should he feel it +necessary to supplement their assurance so significantly? Did not the +treaty between Carthage and Capua provide that Capuan laws and +magistrates should still govern all Capuans? Why should he speak so +markedly of their military power? Did not the treaty expressly state +that no Capuan was to be called upon for military duty except by his +own rulers? + +Calavius had been signalling vigorously to his son, Perolla, who had +reclined silent and gloomy, but who now seemed about to speak. +Disregarding his father's warning, the young man broke in:-- + +"It is idle to deny that the Campanian horse serve willingly with Rome +and will continue so to serve. As for Decius Magius, there are many +good men here who hold with him, but who lack his boldness." + +For an instant every one held his breath in terror of the coming +outburst, but those whose angry or frightened eyes first ventured to +glance toward the captain-general saw his face wreathed in smiles, and +his wine cup raised toward the daring speaker. + +"Happiness to you, flower of Campanian youth! and know that there are +two things that Hannibal prizes most among men: a friend who was once +an enemy, and a friend who dares to speak the truth." + +Calavius had recovered his composure during this speech. + +"I would not have you imagine, my Lord," he began, "but that my son +speaks as he believes and in order that you may have full information; +yet, he is ill to-day in body and mind, and, even were it not so, I am +older than he and know more of men. That Decius Magius has +sympathizers, it is vain to deny; but that they are many or +influential, I, who know the Capuans, aver is not the case. As for our +horsemen, it is easy to see that their safety demands an apparent +friendship for Rome. It is not wise for three hundred to revile thirty +thousand." + +Hannibal had continued to keep his gaze upon Perolla, scarcely +listening to his father's words. In the young man's face something of +surprise had mingled with his half-defiant, half-moody expression. + +"I do not ask of you, my son," pursued the general, "that you whose +heart was but lately with our enemies, should love and trust us at +once. That were the part of a hypocrite, and I honour you, both for +the filial piety that threw down your preference before your father's +will, and for the slowness with which your heart follows your act. +Grant me but this: that you judge us fairly by our deeds, and if we +prove not better friends than Rome, return to them in peace and safety. +Meanwhile there is a horse with crimson mane and feet that shall be led +from my stable to yours in the morning. Ride him, and remember that +Hannibal honours courage, filial obedience, and truth--all in like +measure." + +Subdued applause from both tables followed these words, but the face of +Perolla lost but little of its stubborn hostility. Hannibal turned +away, and Calavius and Ninius sought to cover by eager talking the +young man's ungracious reception of such signal favour. The faces of +the Carthaginians remained for the most part impassive; only their dark +eyes seemed to sparkle, either with wine or suppressed passion. Marcia +still felt that one pair was trying to look through her, and she was +conscious that Silenus, the Sicilian Greek, was making eager and +indecorous love to one of the women at the other table. Another of the +latter had just ventured on some light badinage with the chief guest, +in whose face smiles had chased away all the abstraction of the earlier +hours. He answered her as lightly, but with indifference, and turned +to Marcia. + +"And what says our Roman beauty?" he asked. "She has come boldly and +far to see her enemies. Who knows but she has a boon to beg." + +Again Marcia noted disturbance under Calavius' smile. He was wondering +at the general's knowledge. Then he realized that Mago's report must +be its basis, and his face cleared. + +"Yes, truly, I _have_ a boon to ask," replied Marcia, fixing her great +eyes upon the bearded front, stern through its smiles. "It is that you +will spare one house in Italy from ravage and destruction." + +"And where may this house be?" he asked in bantering tones. "We shall +leave many standing, but this one most surely of all." + +"It is upon the brow of the Palatine Hill--" she began, and then a +burst of applause gave notice that the compliment had struck home. "It +is my father's," she concluded, blushing. + +Calavius was in ecstasy over the graceful tact of his protege. No +Capuan or Greek could have done better. Hannibal eyed her with a +curious expression, half admiring, half doubtful. + +"I grant the boon--freely," he said. Then, fixing her with his gaze, +he went on, "And when will you claim it?" + +"The son of Hamilcar knows best," replied Marcia, casting down her +eyes, and again she felt the approval of her host and his friends. + +That Hannibal was pleased and flattered was evident, and yet there was +a certain reserve in his manner. Possibly he suspected that she wished +to provoke an announcement of his plans; perhaps an even deeper insight +led him near to a fuller conception of her purpose. + +"Yes, it is truly for us to say," he said loudly, glancing around the +board; then, turning quickly to Marcia: "I understand that you +counselled delay until spring to my brother, Mago. Why?" + +So frank a question, so different from all that had been told of the +more than Oriental craft of the Carthaginians, and one that went so +straight to the motive of her presence, threw Marcia into some +confusion. Calavius noticed it, and, fearing lest she might say +something to do away with the impression of her former tact, he came to +the rescue. + +"Surely we shall not insult my Lord Bacchus by a council of war in his +presence?" but Hannibal waved his hand toward him and looked fixedly at +Marcia. + +"Goddesses may speak on all subjects, at all times; and the gods smile." + +"That my words," she began, with eyes still cast down, "were deemed +worthy to be borne to my Lord, is too much honour. That he should deem +them worthy of thought, is beyond the dream of mere woman." Then, +glancing up and smiling wistfully into his face, she went on: "Know, +that whatever of judgment born of knowledge of the place and the men +has come to me, a girl,--that and more is for the service of the great +general of Carthage,--the benignant liberator of Italy." + +"Why do you advise delay?" asked Hannibal again, and the eyes of +Maharbal glittered, as he leaned over from the other table. "There are +those who say I have delayed too long already." + +"For this," replied Marcia, boldly; "that you may save your soldiers +and your allies; that they may lie in rest and luxury, and that, ere +springtime, the cities of the Latin Name, yes, truly, and the very +rabble of Rome, shall come to you on their knees for leave to bear the +horseheads along the Sacred Way, up the Capitoline slope--" + +"If in the spring, why not now?" + +Maharbal and Hannibal-the-Fighter made a clucking sound of assent; +Hasdrubal and the other guests seemed indifferent, but the Capuans were +hanging on Marcia's words. + +"Because the time is not ripe--" she began. + +"Words!" cried her questioner, cutting off her speech; "I asked, _why_?" + +Frightened at his vehemence, but put to it of necessity, she answered:-- + +"Because there are strifes and bickerings--at Rome--throughout the +Latin Name--that must soon bear fruit of civil strife. The nobles +grind and hold to their privileges; the commons serve and starve and +look to Carthage for aid. How shall these things grow better, while +you hold the garden of Italy--while the Greeks of the south and the +Samnites and the men of the soil gather behind you on one side, and the +Gauls and Etruscans muster in the north? The water is eating at the +mole; soon the waves will lash up and sweep it from its foundations." + +Hannibal eyed her closely for a moment. Then he said: "There are those +at Rome and among the Latin Name who tell me otherwise. They are good +men, and they know. Perhaps I have been even too cautious. You are +young and beautiful. Hold fast to matters suited to youth and beauty, +and leave the conduct of wars and statecraft to men." Turning to +Stenius, he went on, "If this Leucadian wine of yours, my Stenius, were +let into the veins of those who lie dead at Cannae, they would be fit +to rise and do battle again." + +Stenius bowed and smiled; Marcia grew red and then pale with shame and +vexation, seeing how her plots were like to fall and crush her; but, at +this moment, the voice of Hannibal-the-Fighter rose from the other +table. Flushed with wine, he was boasting of his slain. "Four at +Trebia," he cried out, "seven at Trasimenus, eighteen at Cannae--but +all men. It is better to slay the wolves' whelps, if only to teach +women that it is no longer wise to bring forth Romans. I--I who speak +have already killed eleven boys--ah! but you must wait till we enter +Rome. Then will be the day when they shall build new cities in Hades!" + +The Carthaginians heard him with indifference; the Capuans, all save +Perolla, applauded nervously; and Marcia grew sick at heart and mad +with a rage that could almost have strangled the giant as he reclined. + +"And now," began Ninius, mildly, when there was a moment's silence, +"that we may the better enjoy what is to come, there are baths and +attendants; and the red feather will make way for new feastings at the +end of two hours." + +Slaves had run in to assist the diners from their couches; the Capuans, +with dreams of relief, refreshment, and re-repletion; the +Carthaginians, bored, but striving to be polite and to follow the +customs of their entertainers. Even Hannibal, while his smile was half +a frown, permitted himself to be led away. + +Filled with disgust and despair, Marcia felt herself all unfit to begin +a new revel--one that was to be made possible by loathsome practices, +as yet unknown at Rome, and which bade fair to end in aimless and +hideous debauchery. The women were but warming to their part, when the +summons of Stenius Ninius had proclaimed a truce with Bacchus and +Venus--a truce with promise of more deadly battle to be joined. She +had seen glances hot with wine and lust, claspings of hands, loosened +cyclas, and more lascivious reclinings. The gloomy Perolla had yielded +a little to the soft influences, and even Hannibal seemed to force +himself to toying, if only in the name of courtesy; while, through it +all, and more and more as the light of day advanced, Marcia felt the +eyes of Iddilcar, priest of Melkarth, burning into her soul. He at +least gave no heed to nearer blandishments, and terror and loathing +filled her in equal measure. + +A faintness--a sudden weakness born of her recent journey--served for +excuse, which Calavius seemed not unwilling to voice, and, surrounded +by a guard of slaves, her litter bore her back to his house, through +streets littered with drunken men and fluctuant with the figured robes +of courtesans. + + + + +VI. + +ALLIES. + +Night had come again, before Marcia could arouse herself from the deep +sleep with which exhaustion of mind and body had overwhelmed her. She +remembered the scenes of the banquet as the phantasms of a +dream--strange and terrible; for her thoughts were slow to gather the +threads and weave the woof. Only a feeling of failure, of fruitless +abasement, was ever present. Hannibal had admired her, but, proof +against any controlling attraction, he had put her words aside with +little short of contempt. A dread, even, lest the strange acumen of +this wonderful man had pierced her mask, and that her very motive and +mission were already suspected, was not lacking to add dismay to +discouragement. Such thoughts were but wretched company, and they +brought with them a vague conception of her own vain egotism in +imagining the possibility of other outcome. She tried to sleep again, +but could not. What mattered it though, by some shifting of hours, her +day had become night and her night day! She must arise and talk with +some one, if it were only the host whom she so heartily despised. + +Attendants entered at her summons, and the refreshment of the bath and +the labour of the toilet were once more passed through. Then, +dismissing the slaves, she walked out alone into the garden and sat +down on a softly cushioned seat of carved marble. A fountain plashed +soothingly in the foliage near by, the stars were shining again, while, +from without, the jarring sounds of the city came to her ears. + +How long she sat, awake yet thinking of nothing, dull and dazed, she +could not tell. Then she was aroused by a sandalled step upon the +pavement. A man was standing before her, whose face, despite its +youthful contours, was deep-lined and melancholy. He was short of +stature and slenderly though gracefully built, and his black curls +clustered over brow and eyes that seemed rather those of a poet or a +dreamer than of a man of action. In the sombre, dark blue garments of +mourning, without ornaments or jewels, so different from the gay +banqueting robes in which she had last seen him, Marcia gazed a moment, +before she recognized Perolla, the son of Pacuvius. + +"You are not pretty to-night, Scylla," he said tauntingly, "though you +left us early. There are dark circles under the eyes that looked +kindly at the enemy of your country." + +Marcia flushed crimson, and he went on: "Yes; I watched you smiling and +ogling, but it will take greater traitors than you to snare him. He is +like Minos, in that he did not reach out to take from your hands the +purple lock shorn from your father's head: he is not like him +otherwise: he is not just, and he will not give honourable terms." + +"You, at least, are faithful to Rome?" said Marcia, slowly, and +ignoring his insults. + +"Can you ask?" he answered; "is it that you wish to betray me? Well, +then, know truly that I have betrayed myself to your heart's content. +Do you not see the mourning garments I wear for my city's faithlessness +and for her coming ruin? Have you not heard how my father dragged me +from the side of Decius Magius in the market place that I might attend +the banquet?--ah! but you have not heard how I had planned to startle +them all." + +Marcia began to wonder whether she was talking with a madman. + +"Shall I tell?" + +She made a sign of assent. + +"It was toward evening--they have but just risen from the tables now. +Then, it was to seek the red feathers for the third time; but I led my +father back among the rose bushes and showed him a sword which I had +girt to my side, beneath my tunic. 'This,' said I, 'shall win us +pardon from Rome. Look you, when we return, I will plunge it into the +Carthaginian's breast.'" + +Marcia bent forward eagerly. + +"And then," he went on, "my father bound my arms to my sides, with his +own around me, and wept and talked of our recent pledges to these +foreigners. 'Can they outweigh our ancient pledges to Rome?' I +answered. So he pleaded how the attendants would surely cut me down, +and mentioned Hannibal's look, which he affirmed I would not be able to +confront; but I laughed and made little of these things. Then he spoke +of the hospitable board, which I admitted had something of reason; and, +finally, when he had declared that the sword must reach Hannibal only +through his own breast, then, at last, from filial duty, mark you, I +threw the weapon from me, telling him that he had betrayed his country +thrice: in revolting from Rome, in allying with foreigners, and, now, +in turning aside the instrument of escape. Then we returned to the +banquet, but my father trembled, and ate and drank no more. There, +now, is a story to tell your city's destroyer. If you betray me, +perhaps he may yet love you." + +Marcia viewed him sternly. + +"Truly your father was right, when he said you were ill in mind." + +"Yes, ill in mind and in heart." + +"How, then, do you not recognize one whose heart is sicker than your +own?" + +Perolla looked at her inquiringly, and she went on:-- + +"You have a city that has been false to itself, and is in danger of +punishment--a father, too, if you will. _My_ city has already suffered +every evil but destruction: my brother and he to whom Juno was about to +lead me have been killed by these pulse-eaters. Are such things the +benefits that go to make friendship and love for the slayers? Say, +rather, hate and the craving for revenge." + +"Yes," said Perolla, moodily; "they are indeed evils, but less than +mine, in that they are passed--" + +"And is Rome safe, do you think?" she asked quickly. + +"Rome will conquer," he said doggedly, "unless there be many more +traitors like you." + +"Fool!" she cried, grasping his wrist. "Can you not see--you who claim +to be a philosopher and to have Greek blood?--you, at least, should +have understood my words." + +He gazed at her vacantly, and she began to regret her vehemence. It +came to her mind that this was not altogether a safe man to trust with +her secret. Faithful he was, no doubt; but a fool might be even more +dangerous than a traitor. Still, she had said too much to be silent, +and she felt the need of some ally to whom she could talk--upon whom +she could at least pretend to lean when the weight of her burden was +heaviest. + +"I have told you what I have lost--what I dread to lose. Now learn +what I am here to gain. For many days after the black news of Cannae, +I heard them talking in my father's house--talking of the advance of +the insolent victors and of the paltry defence we could oppose, the +certain destruction that awaited us. Still they were brave--old men +and boys. The soldiers were dead, but we set to work training +new--shaping them alike out of youth and age and bondmen; and the +slayers of our citizens delayed, and we gained strength and courage. +In every temple of the twelve gods it was the same prayer by day and +night: 'Grant us delay. Grant us that the winter may find him in the +south!' At last came the news that he was advancing to Capua, and +rumours of a Carthaginian party in the city. From Capua, seized with +all its engines of war, was but a few days to Rome. Then I took a +resolve and made a vow: tell me, am I beautiful?" + +"Beautiful as Venus." + +"Know, then, that I have dedicated this beauty to her, that she may +guard Rome and avenge me upon Rome's enemies." + +He shook his head stupidly. + +"Minerva does not favour me, lady," he replied; "for I do not +understand your words." + +"Listen!" she went on, with the earnestness of desperation, "He shall +_love_ me--he or one who can sway him--and they shall play the laggards +here, until the winter gives us time--and time brings safety." + +He understood her now, but still he shook his head. + +"If you speak truth," he said slowly, "you speak foolishness as well. +Hannibal will love no mistress but Carthage, and there is no man living +who shall sway him by a hair's breadth. _Now_ I see why you spoke to +him of plots at Rome and of the wisdom of delay. Ah! a woman to make +game of _him_!" and he threw back his head and laughed. "Do you +imagine he has not divined your plot? Give him your beauty if you +will. He will take it, doubtless, if he have time, and march north +forthwith, after you have confessed your little plottings beneath the +hot tweezers. Only one thing shall stay him--steel,--and in the hands +of man--not blandishments in the mouth of a girl." + +Marcia was in despair. + +"And is there no help," she cried, "for me, a Roman woman, from you, a +friend of Rome? Surely we shall be stronger together, even if our +plots are different. Two plans are better than one." + +Before he could frame his answer they heard footsteps coming toward +them, and then a man, enveloped in the brown cloak of a slave, pushed +aside the foliage and glided out into the moonlight. Perolla, wheeling +about, had half drawn his sword, while Marcia shrunk back into the +shadow. + +"Put up your sword, my Perolla," said the newcomer, speaking in low +tones and throwing aside his mantle. + +"Decius Magius, by all the gods!" cried the young man; "but why are you +disguised?" + +"Because, my friend," said Magius, slowly "Capua is no longer free; +because spies of the Carthaginian and of our senate are watching my +house, making ready to seize me. Decius Magius can no longer walk in +his own city, clad in his own gown, and to-morrow, doubtless, he cannot +walk at all. Therefore I wish to speak with you, and I have put on +this disguise in order that I might gain your house unobserved, and +that your father might not die of fright, learning me to be here." + +"But how did you enter? how find me?" + +"I entered, my Perolla, because your porter, like every slave in Capua, +is drunk to-night, and because the boy whom he left to keep the gate +was only enough awake to mumble that you were in the garden." + +Perolla frowned. Then, suddenly, he remembered Marcia, concerning whom +his suspicions were not yet entirely removed, and he raised his hand in +warning. + +"There is a woman here--a Roman woman, who tells a strange story," he +whispered. "It is better to be discreet." + +"The time for discretion is past for Decius Magius," said the other, +wearily. "Let him at least speak freely upon his last night of +freedom." + +Marcia came forward. + +"Is it permitted a Roman maid to honour a Campanian who is true to his +city's faith?" + +"Assuredly, daughter," replied Magius, quietly. She could not see his +face except that it was stern and gray-bearded; but, kneeling down +beside him, she took his hand and poured out the story of her life, her +sorrow, her resolve, and its prosecution. Here, at least, was a man +upon whose faith and judgment she could rely, and his manner grew more +gentle as she made an end of speaking. + +"So you doubted her truth, my Perolla," he said softly. "That is +because you have not felt her hand tremble, and because you are too +young and too much of a philosopher to judge of the honesty of a +woman's face. The same instinct that tells me, doubtless warned +Hannibal also that this was not a courtesan, much less an immodest +woman well born, and, least of all, a coward who would flee her city, +or a traitress who would betray it. You will know more of such things, +my Perolla, when you learn to study them less." Then, turning to +Marcia, he went on: "What you have designed, my daughter, is noble and +worthy of your race--and yet, while I commend, I am slow to encourage. +Are you strong to carry your sacrifice to the uttermost?" + +Marcia shuddered. + +"Yes, if there be need," she said, in a low voice; "I look to no +marriage now. Is not the Republic worthy of our best?" + +"It is a hard thing," he said, doubtfully, "for a woman well born and +modest to belong to a man she hates." + +"But it is easy to die, my father, as died Lucretia." + +Decius Magius looked at her. Several times his lips moved as if about +to speak, and, once, he turned away sharply for a moment, as if to gaze +up into the night. + +"Tell me, my father," she said earnestly, "do you give me no hope? Is +not my beauty worth the purchase of a few paltry months? And then +comes the winter, bringing safety." + +Still Magius said nothing for several minutes, and when he spoke, it +was in harsh, quick tones. + +"Yes, it is all possible, as you say it." + +"Hannibal to surrender his plans for a woman?" cried Perolla, +scornfully. "Surely, my Decius, you jest. Do you not know him--that +only the gods can turn him from his purpose?" + +Marcia had wheeled about with flashing eyes and faced the last speaker. + +"You have shown me the way," she cried. "It is the gods who _shall_ +delay him." + +Perolla gazed at her in astonishment, as at one gone mad, but Magius +nodded and frowned. + +"It is the best chance," he said slowly, "the only one." + +"Still Minerva does not favour me," said Perolla, shaking his head; but +Marcia went on in a high, nervous voice and with a gayety that made the +older man draw his cloak up to his face in pity:-- + +"Come, my philosopher, you are indeed stupid to-night. If you did not +observe it at the house of the Ninii, you should have heard me just now +when I told the story of the banquet to my lord Decius. It is +Iddilcar, the priest of Melkarth, who shall bring his god to be my +ally--Rome's ally: Iddilcar, who could not so much as take his eyes +from me, through all their feasting. There is the man who will prefer +my beauty, even to his god's favour; and surely your Hannibal will not +wage war against the auspices." + +The face of Magius was still shaded by his cloak, and he said nothing; +but over the features of the younger man came strange expressions: +first amazement, then horror, then a look which had something of horror +but more of yearning. He held out his hands in supplication. + +"No--no," he cried. "You shall not do it. You are too beautiful. +First I hated you, when I dreamed you to be but a courtesan traitress. +Now--now--O gods favour me! Listen! you shall not do it. It is I who +will kill him--yes, and you also first," and, turning suddenly away, he +staggered. Then, as Magius raised his hand to support him, he shook +himself free and ran furiously into the house. + +Marcia turned to Magius in astonishment, and he smiled sadly. + +"Even philosophers are not proof," he said; "and you are very +beautiful--and he is young--and half a Greek." She blushed, and the +grim senator took her hand. "May the gods grant, my daughter, that +your sacrifice be not for nothing. You have spoken wisdom; but he--he +is a madman. As for me, I am as one who is dead. Farewell." + +He dropped her hand, and she felt, rather than heard or saw him go; +only her voice would not obey her when she strove to detain him, if but +for a moment: the only man in Capua whom she could honour--upon whom +she could rely. Surely he would not desert her thus?--yes, truly, he +was _gone_. + +Then she ran several steps in the direction he had taken, and called, +though she dared not call his name, until a female attendant came +hurrying to answer her. + +"My lord, Perolla," said the girl, "had but just rushed out into the +street, as if possessed of a daimon. As for a strange slave, she had +observed no one; but if such there was, doubtless he had slipped by the +porter's boy--who was worthless." + +Marcia groped her way to her sleeping apartment, harshly brushing aside +an offer of aid. Once alone, she threw herself down upon the couch and +burst into a torrent of moans and sobs. + +The girl, who had followed hesitatingly, listened in the hallway, +nodding her head with conscious satisfaction. "And so the Roman women +loved, for all they were said to be so grand and stern. What a fool +this one was, though, to prefer the son to the father, who was much +richer, and who, being old, would doubtless realize the necessity of +being more generous." + +And she went back to the slaves' apartments, laughing softly to herself. + + + + +VII. + +"FREEDOM." + +The morning air of the Seplasia reeked with perfumes, more, even, than +was its wont; for Carthaginian and Capuan revellers had been carousing +there, and several of the shops had been broken open. The gutters +streamed wine with which were mingled all the essences of India and +Asia. Flowers, withered and soaked with coarser odours than their own, +floated on the pools and drifted down the rivulets. Inert bodies, +drunk to repletion, lay scattered about, helpless, unable to drink +consciously, but absorbing the wasted liquor through every pore. A +dead citizen, his head crushed in by a single blow, sprawled hideously +in the middle of the street; while his murderer, a gigantic Gaul, was +embracing the corpse with maudlin affection and whispering in its ear +to arise and guide him back to camp. Those who passed, from time to +time, paused to join the soldier's comrades in laughter and rude jests +and suggestions of new methods of awakening his friend. + +And now, down the street, extending from wall to wall, came a line of +young men, their faces flushed, their garments disordered or cast +aside, and their brows crowned with what had once been chaplets of +roses. Three or four courtesans, with gowns and tunics torn from their +white shoulders, were being dragged along, half laughing, half +resisting, and wholly possessed by Bacchic frenzy. + +In front of the company marched a slender youth with dark, curling hair +and delicate features. In his hand was a thyrsis, and his eyes blazed +with the madness of the wine. + +"Evoe! evoe!" he shouted. "Comrades! Bacchantes! there is no water in +Capua to mix with wine. Equal mixture for poets and fools; undiluted +wine for victors and lovers!" + +"Perolla is a good Carthaginian to-day," shouted one of his fellows. +"Behold how Bacchus has answered our prayers! Kiss him, Cluvia, for a +reward." + +Pushed forward, the courtesan fell upon the young man's neck, almost +bearing him to the street and overwhelming him with drunken caresses. +A moment later he freed himself from her arms. + +"What is Roman beauty to our Capuan?" he hiccoughed. +"Marcia--Cluvia--all are one. All are women, and we are Capuans; +braver than Romans, wiser than Carthaginians. Listen, friends! when my +father rules Italy, you shall all be kings and queens. Evoe! evoe!" + +Shouts and shrieks of drunken joy greeted his words. Several sought to +embrace him, and, staggering back, he stumbled over the Gaul and the +dead Capuan where they sprawled in the street. Mingled laughter and +curses rose all around. Blows and kisses were given and received, and +the mad company rolled on through the Seplasia and into the Forum. + +Here, too, were intoxication and debauchery, but they were restrained +within some manner of bounds. The fact that grave events were taking +place, seemed to exert a sobering influence on the populace, and they +gathered in a dense throng around the Senate House, whence ominous +rumours pursued each other in quick succession. + +"The Senate was in session. Hannibal was before them. Decius Magius +had been arrested at his demand." So ran the talk. + +Guards of Carthaginian soldiery were posted at several points, but +especially at all the entrances to the chamber in which the fathers of +the city discussed--or obeyed; and against these lines the waves of the +rabble surged and broke and receded. Men offered the soldiers money +for free passage or news; women offered them kisses for money; and the +soldiers took both and gave nothing but jeers and blows. + +Perolla and his drunken company had but just poured out to swell the +tide of this ocean of popular passion, when a commotion of a different +character began at the other end of the Forum. The closed door of the +Senate House swung open, and a man in the garb of a senator, but +chained and shackled, issued forth and stood on the steps, beneath the +porch. Surrounded by a guard of Africans, it was fully a moment, +before the mob recognized Decius Magius, the partisan, of Rome. Then a +chorus of howls and curses rose up. Insults were hurled,--the grossest +that the minds of a licentious rabble could suggest, fists were shaken, +women spat toward the prisoner,--even a few stones were cast, and when +one of these happened to strike an African of the guard, he turned +quietly and cut down the nearest citizen. Then, with their heavy +javelins so held as to be used either as spears or clubs, the soldiers +descended into the Forum, and, with the captive in their midst, began +their progress toward the street and gate that led to the Carthaginian +camp. There was no weak delay in this progress, no requests for +passage; the escort clove through the mass of the people, as a war +galley dashes through the breakers of a turbulent sea. A spray of +human beings that strove to escape but could not, boiled up about the +prow; a wake of bodies, writhing or senseless, fell behind the stern, +while, at either side, the stout javelins rose and fell like the +strokes of oars, splashing up blood for foam. + +The taunts and threats that had assailed the prisoner died away amid +shrieks of terror or pain and the deep rumble of the mob. Stupid with +drink, drunk with the exultation of ungoverned power, they wondered +vaguely, as they crushed back, why their new friends should strike, +merely because they,--the Capuan people,--allies of Carthage, strove to +punish a traitor and a common enemy. The prisoner's lips were seen +moving, as his captors hurried him along; but no speech from them could +be heard, until the Forum had been nearly traversed. Then, on the hush +born of surprise and efforts to escape blows, the words of Magius were +audible, at least to those nearest. + +He was protesting against this violation of the treaty. He was +speaking of himself; a Capuan, than whom no one was of higher rank, +being dragged in chains to the camp of an ally who had sworn that no +Carthaginian should have power over a citizen of Capua. At the mention +of his rank, malice and envy lent to some of the cowed rabble courage +to jeer once more. Then he had asked, how they expected that an ally +so careless of recently sworn obligations would respect his vow that no +Capuan would be compelled to do military service against his will; +whereupon, some of those who heard looked serious, for this seemed +reasonable, and brought the possibility of evil unpleasantly home to +them. Finally, he congratulated them upon this marvellous, new-found +freedom which the Carthaginian alliance had brought, and which they had +been celebrating so earnestly. + +Perolla and his companions had found themselves crushed against the +portico of the temple of Hercules, in which, only the day before, had +been established, also, the worship of the Tyrian Melkarth, out of +compliment to the new alliance. + +At first they had realized but little of what was going on before and +around them. They had listened vacantly to crazy rumours of how the +statue of Jupiter in the Senate House had bowed to Hannibal as he +entered, and how the Senate had forthwith saluted him as a god and +declared him the patron and protector of the city; and, again, to other +rumours even more wild of how the wives of all the Capuans had been +decreed to be given to the Carthaginians, in return for which the women +of Rome were to be surrendered to the Capuans by their victorious +allies. + +When Decius Magius was led out in custody of the soldiers, Perolla was +trying to think whether, after all, he would not prefer Marcia to +Cluvia. Then followed the passage through the crowded Forum, straight +toward the exit beside the temple of Hercules, and Perolla found +himself within a spear's length of his captive friend, whose words of +protest and warning fell upon his ears like molten lead, and whose +reproachful eyes gazed into his own, piercing through them to his brain +and dissipating the fumes of intoxication as sunlight melts the fog. +Decius had not spoken to him, for he was mindful that such speech might +bring suspicion upon the younger man, but his look had said all that +his tongue refrained from saying, and Perolla realized his degradation +and his shame. + +He started forward and cried out:-- + +"I was mad, my father; _mad_! do you hear? It was because I knew +suddenly that I loved her, and that she would never love me! and then I +rushed out and met others who were drinking, and we feasted and drank +until I knew nothing. Pardon! pardon!" + +Suddenly he became conscious that Decius and his guards were gone. Had +he heard his plea? Surely yes, for did not he, Perolla, now hear his +friend's eyes saying to him that he was but a fool who had added to +folly, philosophy, and to both, weakness, and to all, madness? He +looked around at his companions. Some were gaping at him vacantly, +some were laughing. Cluvia tried to grasp his arm, and he shook her +off and saw her stumble and roll down the steps that led up to the +portico; then a new commotion arose in the direction of the Senate +House, and the attention of the bystanders was diverted. More +Carthaginian soldiers were forming and marching through the mob that +now opened to give passage of double width; and, as the escort came +nearer, Perolla saw Hannibal, clad in the gown of a Capuan senator, +moving calmly in their midst. + +A new frenzy came to his brain to take the place of the fumes of wine: +perhaps it was one compounded of that and of shame and horror and +revenge. He groped under his torn tunic and found his dagger; then, +brandishing it, he burst down through the crowd, uttering incoherent +words, and threw himself, like a wild beast, upon the guards. + +He had stabbed one through the throat and another in the shoulder, +before he was beaten down by a blow from the staff of a javelin. A +moment later, the first soldier to recover from the surprise of the +incident bent over him with drawn sword. + +A sharp exclamation from behind checked the descending thrust, and the +soldier turned quickly. Hannibal stood beside him, with a thoughtful +smile upon his lips. + +"Would you kill a citizen of Capua? a man of our allies?" he said +quietly. + +The African looked around stupidly. That he should not crush the +Italian vermin forthwith was beyond his comprehension, but evidently +such was not the schalischim's wish. Grumbling, he slipped his sword +slowly back into its sheath, and, at that moment, several of the Capuan +senators in Hannibal's train gathered round him with protestations and +expressions of regret. The general looked at them and frowned. + +"I have been with you scarcely two days," he said, "and now you try to +murder me." + +The senators fell upon their knees, kissing his gown and hands, in a +frenzy of horror at the thought. + +"Who is this fellow?" asked Hannibal, turning Perolla over with his +foot. Then, recognizing the son of Pacuvius Calavius, he went on: +"Some one of no consequence, doubtless; dust of the street that stings +when the wind drives it," and he glared around at the prostrate +senators. + +They glanced at the senseless figure, as if hardly daring so much. +Some knew him, more did not; but all united in protesting their +ignorance. + +Hannibal viewed them with drooping lids, and the smile returned to his +lips. Perolla stirred slightly. + +Again he addressed the Capuans, raising his voice somewhat, so that the +crowd might hear. + +"What is your law for the punishment of such a crime?" + +Those who had not recognized the assassin, cried out, "Death." Others, +divided between the more powerful enmity of Hannibal and the slower +revenge of Calavius, made their lips move but were silent, hoping to +escape notice in the shout of the others. A few of these were envious +of the young man's father; more feared him. + +Hannibal noted their confusion and came to their relief. + +"But perhaps so wicked a man is not a Capuan, after all. It is +difficult to believe that the gods would suffer such impiety to lurk in +a city so beloved as yours; and, if no one knows him--" + +A chorus of disclaimers snatched at the proffered evasion, and the +smile on Hannibal's lips grew more subtle, as he said:-- + +"In that case, the treaty does not stand, and you, my fathers, are +relieved from the burden of his trial and punishment. I am still free +to condemn an ally of Rome. Let your rods and axe do their office." + +The senators were standing now, and several of them winced and looked +frightened at the swift result of their complaisance. One, even, +gathered courage to say:-- + +"When is it my lord's will that punishment fall?" + +Hannibal eyed him closely for a moment. + +"Here, in your forum, and now," he said, "provided you would give +prompt warning to such vermin." + +The Capuan shifted uneasily and looked down. Several of the soldiers +had already lifted Perolla to his feet, and, holding him upright, had +torn away what remained of his garments; others sent for the +executioners, and, in a moment, these appeared with the instruments of +their calling. + +It was doubtful whether the prisoner had recovered full consciousness +when the first rod fell upon his shoulders, but he groaned and writhed +slightly in the grasp of the four soldiers who held him extended upon +the pavement. + +Then Hannibal turned away, ordering one of his officers to remain and +see the end. He signed to the Capuans to follow him. + +"Such jackals, my fathers, are not worthy that men of rank and wealth +should watch them die," he said lightly. "The rabble will provide him +with sufficient audience." + +And the senators, with awed and thoughtful faces, followed in the train +of the captain-general of Carthage. + + + + +VIII. + +DIPLOMACY. + +Pacuvius Calavius sat in the atrium of his house. Black robed from +head to foot, with hair and beard untrimmed and uncombed, and face and +hands foul with dirt, he rocked to and fro and groaned. From time to +time he ran his fingers through beard and hair, and uttered the +measured cry of the Greek mourners. + +An hour before, one of the senators had stolen furtively in, and, +having hurriedly related the grewsome scene just enacted in the Forum, +had sneaked out again as if he were a spy passing through hostile +lines. None other of the friends of the afflicted father had ventured +to bear or send a message of condolence. It was as if the house of the +once acknowledged leader had been marked for the pestilence--and no +pestilence was more to be shunned than the deadly blight of broken +power. Even the slaves shifted about in embarrassed silence, offered +little service, and obeyed as if conscious that obedience was something +of an indiscretion, and was liable at any moment to become a crime. +Some had slipped away to their quarters, and had begun to discuss the +relative possibilities of freedom, wholesale execution, or a new +master, when the coming blow should fall upon this one. + +To Marcia, on the other hand, had been born a feeling of sympathy for +her host, that, for the present, overcame the contempt with which he +had inspired her--a contempt scarcely lessened by the repulsive +ostentation of his mourning. She alone ventured to minister to his +wants and to beg him to partake of food and drink. Perhaps her +attitude was due in a measure to the horror with which she herself had +listened to the morning's news. To be sure, she had not admired the +character of Perolla. It had in it too much of the weakness and +puerility engendered by the bastard Greek culture fashionable in lower +Italy, and which naturally attained its most offensive form in the +towns of Italian origin. Still, he had been faithful to Rome, and +there was something within that told her his madness and ruin were not +entirely disconnected with her own personality. Word, too, had just +been brought her that both Ligurius and Caipor had died of their +injuries. They had seemed on the road to recovery when she visited +them on the previous day, and this sudden misfortune filled her with +new forebodings, mingled with a suspicion too horrible to dwell upon. +As for Decius Magius, she had barely seen him, yet she had felt him to +be one of all others upon whom she could rely--an Italian uncorrupted +by Capuan luxury, a worthy descendant of the rugged Samnite stock, a +Roman in all but name; and now he was snatched away, a prisoner in the +hands of enemies who knew nothing of mercy. Still, he had approved of +her design; had seen in it the possibility of success; and there was at +least a consolation in the thought that, without friends or allies, no +one but herself would now be cognizant of the fulfilment of her +impending degradation. + +Another hour had passed; into Marcia's mind had come the calmness of a +fixed resolve. Calavius still moaned and cried out his measured "Aei! +aei!" + +Suddenly a tumult of noises sounded from the street: the approaching +murmur of a multitude, the footsteps of men, shouts of applause, cries +of wonder or warning, and sharp words of command. + +Ah! the end was near, now. Calavius began to imagine himself +stretching out his neck to the sword, and he sought, by proclaiming his +willingness and welcome, to stay the chilling of his blood, the +trembling of his lips and hands. + +Staves were beating upon the outer door; the hum of voices in the +street rose and fell and rose again. + +"Open the door, Phoenix," mumbled Calavius, as he rocked and swayed. +"Open the door and let them enter. I am an old man. My son is dead. +What matters a few years of life? I pray to the gods that the +barbarians may not hack me. You shall see how easy I will make it--if +they have but a sharp sword." Suddenly he sprang to his feet and +grasped Marcia's arm. "They will not scourge me? Surely they will not +scourge me? I am a senator and the friend of Carthage!--will the door +hold? Hasten, my daughter; run and tell me whether they are guarding +the street in the rear--before the tradesmen's gate." + +The beating upon the door still continued, with short intermissions, +and Marcia surmised that the porter was probably skulking in the attic +with his fellow-slaves. Calavius had turned suddenly from the depths +of despair and the height of resignation to a keen desire for life. He +had hurried away to seek for some unguarded exit, heedless, for the +moment, of what even Marcia fully realized: the utter impossibility of +a man so well known escaping unaided through a hostile city and without +a friendly land whereto to turn his flight. He had left her standing +in the court, to be a first prey of the assailants, whether Capuans or +Carthaginians, and she reasoned that it would be better, or at least +quicker, to unbar the door before it should be broken in: she was +wondering, in fact, at the forbearance that had preserved it thus far +from more violent assault. Calavius had been gone some time. +Doubtless he had escaped or, recognizing the uselessness of his +attempt, was hiding somewhere, and, in either event, nothing would be +lost by judicious parleying. + +Arranging her robe, she walked slowly through the hall, slid back the +bolts one by one, and let the door swing out into the street; then she +stood, dazed and frightened, for the sight that met her eyes was +Hannibal himself reclining in a litter borne by four Nubians. The +curtains were thrown back, and he was leaning out, evidently giving +some directions to the attendants whose summons had thus far failed to +obtain an answer. Beside the litter stood the priest, Iddilcar, with +folded arms and look bent upon the ground. Around them were ranged a +strong guard of Africans, and, back through the streets, as far as she +could see, the Capuan rabble were thronging forward, curious or +bloodthirsty. + +All this was visible in a moment, and then the general, attracted by +the creaking of the door and the exclamation of the crowd, looked up +and saw Marcia standing upon the threshold. + +The litter was set down at an imperceptible signal, and he stepped out, +robed in a loose gown of black, entirely without ornaments, and with +hair and beard uncombed and sprinkled lightly with ashes. Marcia +stared in wonder. Surely this could not be the Carthaginian method of +announcing judgment or execution! She caught a flash of subtle +lightning from the eyes of Iddilcar, though these had not seemed to +neglect for a moment their close scrutiny of the pavement. Then +Hannibal stood before her, bowing low and speaking in suppressed +tones:-- + +"The gods be with you and dwell within this house! I have come to look +upon the face of my father, and, if may be, to console him. Praise be +to Tanis for the omen that you have opened to us, rather than one whose +servile duty it was. So shall our entrance be free and our going +joyful." + +He had cast a rapid glance around, as he spoke, and Marcia knew that he +divined why the service of tending the door had been left to her--a +free woman and a guest; yet he was pleased to ignore all inferences, +and to attribute her act to some divine will. His words, too, were +more than friendly, and, if they covered no snare of Punic faith, +augured safety and continued favour. + +"I have come," he continued, "that I might mingle my tears with those +of my father who mourns the death of a son." + +Marcia stood amazed. Had they not been told how this man had himself +ordered the execution of Perolla? How, then, could even a Carthaginian +show such effrontery! Still, it was necessary to think quickly, and +her woman's wit told her that, in any event, Calavius' best chance of +safety was to seem to accept the visit in the spirit which cloaked it. +So thinking, she led the visitors into the peristyle,--Hannibal, +Iddilcar, and some twenty soldiers who followed as if by previous +orders; while the rest mounted guard before the vestibule. Murmuring +some word of apology, she hurried back through the garden to the +tradesmen's door. + +It was still closed and barred, facts which, together with the rumble +of the crowd without, showed that Calavius' plan of escape had proven +impracticable. Then she began a careful search, becoming more +agitated, with each moment, about the difficulty of explaining the +delay. At last she found him, hidden away under a couch in one of the +slaves' apartments, so senseless with terror that several minutes +passed, before he could grasp her tale of Hannibal's presence, and of +the chance of safety it offered. When, however, he understood that +there was yet room for diplomacy,--that the visitors were not mere +executioners with orders to obey,--he drew himself out from his +hiding-place, alert and active. The need of haste, in view of the time +already lost, was apparent; but, nevertheless, he paused in the garden +to wallow a moment in the mould and plunge his hands into its depth. + +Marcia saw with disgust, but she led on until they reached the +peristyle; when, slipping aside into one of the cells, she watched the +playing of the game. + +Calavius paused a moment at the entrance. Then, groaning deeply to +attract attention, he shambled forward, and, throwing himself at full +length before Hannibal, seized the hem of his robe and pressed it +eagerly to his lips. + +"Ah, my master!" he cried. "Slay me, slay me at once or with tortures. +Surely that man is not fit to live whose loins have engendered such a +monster of wickedness. Only by death can I hope to expiate my offence +and retain the favour of the gods." + +"Rise, my father," said the captain-general, and to Marcia's ears his +voice rang true with sympathy. He reached out his hand to help +Calavius. "Do you not see that I also wear mourning for this +melancholy error?" + +"Never shall I rise or face you," cried Calavius, "until you give me +your oath that I shall have your forgiveness before I die. Ah, the +monster! the parricide! who would slay, at one stroke, both him who had +brought him up to better deeds, and him who is indeed the father of his +country. Ah, gods! the shame of it! Give orders, lord, quickly--only +vow first that you forgive me." + +Hannibal's tones were low and deep with sorrow, and, by an +imperceptible effort of what must have been prodigious strength, he +raised the unwilling Calavius to his feet. + +"Listen, my father," he said. "Have they not told you how I knew not +the young man? He was stained and dishevelled with revellings in +honour of our alliance--in honour of me, unhappy one. Perchance the +Lord Bacchus, whom you worship, willed to have him for his own, for +surely it was he that raised the young man's hand against me. Ah! my +father, did I not know how this son of thine was most beautiful, best, +and bravest of the Capuan youth? Had I not marked him out for signal +honour--only less than yours, my father and his? See, now, how the +gods confuse the affairs of men. It was at the banquet that I learned +his worth, and determined that he should love me and find in me a +friend." + +"Truly yes," interrupted Calavius, "and you had won his heart, for, +walking in the garden, he told me as much, only adding that he must +appear to turn to you slowly--for the honour of his name among the +partisans of Rome, whom may the gods confound as they have done." + +Hannibal smiled softly, as he took up the words:-- + +"All this I knew well, being somewhat learned in men, my father; and +now the gods have smitten my brother with madness that he should try to +slay me, and myself with blindness that I should, unknowingly, order +the death of one I loved most. Look, my father, I join you in your +mourning, with black robes and ashes; I come to weep with you at the +feet of Fate--you whose love for me has lost you a son, and to offer +you myself to be a son in his place." + +Calavius embraced him, mumbling prayers and vows and endearments in the +sudden joy of escaped death. Iddilcar raised his eyes from the study +of the mosaics and turned aside, shaking as if with some strong +emotion, and Hannibal spoke again. + +"One thing more, my father, I would speak to you of, though for my best +interests I should hold my peace nor make dissensions among allies. +There were those with me when this evil happened--men of your Capuan +Senate--who knew this youth better than I, and who I am convinced +suspected the truth; yet they spoke not--" + +"Ah!" cried Calavius, "and you have their names writ down for me? We +shall slay them!" + +Hannibal's face wore an expression strangely inscrutable as he +answered:-- + +"Yes, my father, I have their names whom I suspect; and they shall +surely die. Grant it to me, though, that I alone keep them and expiate +my own fault by avenging your wrong. This I swear by Baal-Melkarth and +Baal-Moloch to accomplish at the season best for our plans. Therefore +I tell you the fact, but without names, that you may know that you have +enemies and walk warily, while I, your son, shall, under the gods, be +your reliance for protection and revenge." + +Another thought seemed to be struggling for utterance in the bosom of +Calavius--a wish prompted by religion but checked by prudence. Twice +he raised his head as if to speak, and twice his eyes wandered. Then +Hannibal spoke again, as if reading the other's thoughts:-- + +"I have also, my father, given orders that funeral honours be paid to +my brother; a pyre rich with woven fabrics and wine and oil and spices, +and, from my own share of the Etruscan spoils, I have chosen a vase +boldly pictured with a combat of heroes." + +Tears gushed anew from the eyes of Calavius at this added evidence of +thoughtful friendship, and once again he embraced his benefactor, but +with somewhat more of dignity, now that the fear of death was removed. + +Suddenly Marcia became conscious of an intruding presence beside her, +and, turning, her eyes fell upon the repulsive features of Iddilcar, +that seemed to sneer through the semi-gloom. She shuddered and drew +back against the wall. Iddilcar held out his arms which the broad +sleeves of his robe left bare to elbow. An expression of eager lust +made his face even more hideous than did the sneer of a moment past. + +"Come, little bird," he said, "and I will charm you. Moon of Tanis! +Lamp of Proserpine! Essence of all the Heavens! do you not see I love +you?--I, Iddilcar, priest of Melkarth. Behold, my robe is dark. It +mourns--not for the fool who died, but because you have not loved me. +Love, and it will gleam again in violet, and all the bracelets that +hung from my arms at the banquet shall be yours." + +She pressed her hands to her face; she felt herself swaying upon her +trembling knees; only the support of the wall saved her from sinking +down. + +After a moment's silence he began again:-- + +"What is an old man, and weak--a sport of foreigners--to me who am +young and strong, and by whose word even the schalischim of Carthage +must march or halt? I, the favoured one of Melkarth, beseech you, a +Roman, for favour, because Adonis wills it. See how I come to you, +unpermitted, from those who cajole each other, and I show you my heart. +Love me! love me! leave this keeper, who is but an old woman, and you +shall be a priestess in Carthage, and the people shall swarm around and +cast their jewels and wealth before you, for the deity--that shall be +you alone; and we shall feast and love and love and feast again in such +splendour as not even Carthage has ever known--" + +She could restrain her feelings no longer; all her resolves seemed to +slip from her in the presence of this man; she thrust out her hands and +turned her head away with a shiver of utter disgust. Her movement was +vague in the dim light, but he saw it, and his face darkened. + +"What is this house?" he exclaimed harshly. "How long will it stand +against me? Shall I not crush its root, even as its branch was torn +off to-day? Filth! vermin! dust! Shall not its flower lie in my bosom +to bloom forever, if she wills--or to bloom for a moment and wither and +be cast away, if she wills not?" + +He strode forward and caught her wrist; his hot breath steamed in her +face. + +"No! no! I _hate_ you! Go!" The words sprang from her lips, without +power to hold them back, and she struggled frantically in his grasp; +she heard his teeth grinding, as, mad with passion, he strove to bind +her arms to her sides. At that moment a rattling of weapons from the +peristyle seemed to bring him to a consciousness of his surroundings. +Releasing her, he half turned, and she sank down in the corner of the +cell. The visit was evidently over, and Hannibal, about to take his +leave, was glancing around, evidently in search of the missing priest. + +Iddilcar spoke low and rapidly:-- + +"I will return at once. Wait me till I come, or I will have you given +to a syntagma of Africans." + +He was out in the peristyle now, bowing low before the captain-general. +Then he whispered in his ear--probably some explanation of his absence, +of how he had been keeping watch against treachery; for Hannibal nodded +several times, and, again embracing Calavius, accepted his escort to +the door, giving his arm to steady the steps of the older man. + + + + +IX. + +THE BAIT. + +Marcia crouched, huddled in the farthest corner of the cell, and +listened to the receding footsteps of the visitors. Then she heard new +sounds echoing through the house: the rushing feet of slaves descending +from their quarters, striving to gain their stations unobserved; the +sharp tongue of Calavius now loosed from the bonds of terror, and +rating them soundly for their unfaithfulness and cowardice; the patter +of excuses and protestations. In a few moments the quarters above +resounded with the shrieks and groans of those condemned to the lash; +for the wrath and indignation of Calavius, generally the mildest of +masters, were spurred to vindictive bitterness by a consciousness of +his late terror and abasement. "They were guilty of all crimes, and, +worst of all, of the rankest ingratitude. Let them learn that their +master was still strong enough to punish." So the scourges fell, and +the victims screamed and writhed. + +All these things Marcia heard, but they meant little to a mind so full +of internal conflict as was hers. What was she to believe of herself? +Had she not marked out a course of self-devotion and sacrifice which +was to gain respite and safety for her country, revenge upon its +enemies? Had not others, notably Decius Magius, been forced +unwillingly to admit the possible efficiency of her plan? Yet now, +when the gods had shown her favour beyond all anticipation--had brought +the chosen quarry into her net--she had thrown all aside and yielded to +her womanly weakness, her instinct of modesty, her sense of personal +repulsion. What right had she to think of herself as a woman! He, for +whose love her sex had been dear to her, was gone--a pallid shade who +could no longer be sensitive to her beauty, a vague being sent far +hence into the land of the four rivers by these very men whom she had +devoted to destruction. What though the virtues that had beaten down +her resolves had been good once--good for Marcia the woman? They were +evil for that Marcia who had resolved to be a heroine, and who was now +learning how hard it is for the female to seek the latter crown without +losing the former. Again and again she struggled with herself, swayed +back and forth by the counter-currents of conflicting shames, until the +thought of death, as a final possibility, revived to steel her purpose. +The sacrifice and the shame would be short, and, in the consciousness +of her work accomplished, she could die, going before the lady +Proserpine with a pure heart that need not fear to meet the eyes of +Sergius when they should ask its secret. + +Rising quickly, she hastened to her chamber by passages where she would +not be likely to meet her host. Whatever intentions he might have +entertained toward her had been effectually suspended, if not +obliterated, by the course of events, and now he was much too busy +setting in order his demoralized household to think of her presence. +Therefore, she reached her apartment unnoticed, and, summoning her +tirewomen, surrendered herself to the tedious process of adornment +according to the accepted taste of Magna Graecia. + +The afternoon was spent, ere all had been finished. Then she ate +hurriedly and with little appetite, drinking deeply of the Lesbian wine +till her cheeks flushed through the rouge, and her eyes sparkled. +Calavius had gone out, busy about affairs of state, and eager to +collect the strained threads of his influence--threads that might be +strengthened by their very straining, in the hands of a politician who +realized how men were ready to grant every complaisance to one whom +they had deserved ill of and whose vengeance they feared. Marcia found +herself wondering whether Iddilcar would indeed return as he had said. +Perhaps her attitude had seemed to him so unfavourable that he would +strike first;--but when and how? Perhaps affairs of state detained him +also. Perhaps, even, this man, Hannibal, whose eye pierced through all +subterfuges, had already divined the danger and set himself to nullify +it. Perhaps--and then, as she was reclining in the larger dining hall, +one of the slaves entered and whispered in her ear. She rose quickly. + +"Tell my lord that she whom he favours awaits him at the hemicycle in +the garden, and guide him to me." + +She spoke, marvelling at her steady tones, and, turning, walked, with +drooping head, to the semicircular, marble seat;--not the single seat, +back amongst the foliage, where she had met Perolla; "the philosopher's +chair," as Calavius had called it laughingly, where his son retired to +commune with thoughts too great for men. Sinking down at one end of +the hemicycle, she studied the carved lion's head that ornamented the +arm-rest, and the paw, thrusting out from the side-support, upon the +pavement beneath. It troubled her that such wonderful handicraft had +not considered that the head was entirely out of proportion with the +paw; and yet, if the former were larger or the latter smaller, surely +they would not fit well in the places they were intended to ornament. +What a provoking dilemma, to be sure--and at such a time, for, glancing +suddenly up, she saw Iddilcar's dark, repulsive features bent upon her +with a terrible intentness. All her former loathing surged back over +her heart with tenfold force, sickening her with its suffocating weight. + +"Light of the two eyes of Baal," he murmured softly. "Look kindly upon +thy servant. Smile upon his love, that thy light and his worship may +be eternal. Behold! for thee I cast aside the worship of the lord +Melkarth!" + +He tore apart his long, violet tunic, showing his throat and bosom hung +with necklaces. His arms, bare to the shoulders, glittered with heavy +bracelets. + +"Lo! the spoils of Italy assigned to my Lord I give to thee,"; and, +taking off necklace and bracelet, he knelt and piled them at her feet, +raising and parting his arms in the attitude of oblation. + +Charmed as by a serpent, Marcia watched him with horrible disgust, yet +unable to turn her eyes aside. + +"What is Tanis to thee!" he went on. "What, Ceres! What, Proserpine! +Ashera! Derceto!--goddesses afar from men--goddesses whom, not seeing, +we worship faintly with sacrifice and ceremony. But thou--thou shalt +dwell forever in the temple upon the Square of Melkarth. Come!" + +Again, and in spite of every resolve, Marcia felt the overmastering +sense of woman's loathing that stood so obstinately between herself and +the role she had marked out. It was too much. She could not--could +not suffer this man for a moment, even with the release of swiftly +hastening death before her eyes. She struggled to her feet, groping +about, turning, and, with a stifled scream, she sought to fly; but her +strength refused her even this service. + +In an instant, he was up and beside her; his hand had roughly grasped +her shoulder, half tearing away the cyclas; his little eyes blazed with +vindictive fury; his nostrils dilated; his coarse lips writhed in +hungry passion. + +"Ah, slave! You would escape? Where? where? In this house? Ah, +fool! Could you not measure the comedy of this morning? Do you think +this old imbecile, this man condemned to follow his mouse-killing son, +can protect you from the meanest Nubian in the army? Do you +think--ah!" and he raised his hand, as if to strike. + +Wrenching herself loose by a quick movement, Marcia turned and faced +him with all the blood of the Torquati flushing in her cheeks, all +their fire blazing in her eyes. + +"Dog of a pulse-eater!" she cried, and he shrank back before the +vehemence of her tone. "Do I care what you do? Break your alliance +with these people if you wish--an alliance of fools with fools, knaves +with knaves! Break it, before it be cloven asunder for you by the +sword of Rome. Doubtless your chief will sacrifice all his plans to +your cowardly lust. Kill my protector, tear down his house, and--kill +me!--me, for whom there is neither sowing nor reaping in this matter." + +All his arrogance and violence had vanished, cowed and crushed by her +outbreak; but, even as he cringed before her, the gleam of Oriental +cunning had taken its place. + +"Ah! now, indeed, art thou more beautiful than the lady Tanis," he +muttered, clasping and unclasping his hands, as if in ecstasy. "Now, +indeed, do I love thee." His voice sank to a whisper, and he glanced +about timorously. "And so it is neither sowing nor reaping with you, +my pretty?" he went on. "Fools we may be, but not the fools to be +blind to your sowing--not the fools who shall not root up your seed +before the day of reaping. Did not you, a Roman, counsel Mago to +delay? Did you not, foolish one, even give such counsel at the banquet +of welcome to the schalischim, until I laughed in my cup to see a silly +girl who would cajole men of government and of war?" + +Marcia stood, rigid and pale. All her plans seemed shivering about +her. She was doomed to fail then--fail after all, through the cunning +of these vermin. Still she struggled to retain her composure. + +"Liar!" she said. "Do I not know that if you spoke truth I would +already be buried under hurdles weighted with stones?" + +He laughed softly. "Why?" he asked. "What can you avail, coining lead +for us who perceive its falseness? Nay, you are even of use to +Hannibal, for, by your very eagerness, he has come to Maharbal's +thinking, that all must be done speedily, if we would take Rome. Even +now Capuans work night and day building our engines. Soon they will +set them up before your gates. We shall winter in Rome, as the guests +of the lady Marcia who has invited us. Therefore Hannibal grants you +life and to be a comfort to his friend and father, Pacuvius Calavius, +in his declining years;" and he laughed again, but harshly and +sneeringly. + +Marcia could scarcely keep her feet under the crushing force of these +blows. In what vain manner had she, an inexperienced girl, blind to +all but a noble purpose, contended with men whose cunning had sufficed +to snare the chiefs of her people! Worse even, she had herself forged +the weapons for the destruction of all she had hoped to save. Iddilcar +watched her from under half-closed lids, noting every line of her face, +and reading its struggle and its despair. + +"And so it is wisdom for us to march north at once?" he said softly. + +"How do I know?--a woman?" + +He smiled subtly and ignored the change of front he had wrested from +her. + +"Love me, and I swear by the crown of Melkarth that Hannibal shall +winter in Capua." + +She started, as if from the touch of fire. Had her ears heard words of +his, or was it only a belated thought coursing from her brain to her +heart? + +He stepped nearer and spoke again:-- + +"Love me, pretty one, and Hannibal shall winter in Capua,--yea, though +he hangs on the cross for it,--though all the armies of Carthage become +food for dogs." + +At first she had been dreaming of new snares; but these last words and +the vehemence of his tone brought her to an intuitive realization that +this man was indeed prepared to give up god, country, general, +friends,--all, so only that he might gratify his overmastering passion. +The gods were indeed with her, after all,--were guiding her aright; and +the knowledge steadied her self-control and strengthened her resolve. +What omen of favour could be more potent than this snatching of victory +out of the very hands of ruin--this moulding of ruin into a source of +victory? + +So she spoke, calmly and evenly:-- + +"Perhaps you tell the truth, perhaps folly. How shall I know, any more +than I know of this power to command commanders, of which you make such +silly boast?" + +"Not I---not I, lady," he protested eagerly. "Listen! It is the lord +Melkarth that has always loved the colonies of Phoenicia, first among +which is Carthage. It is he that has guided and guarded us through the +perils of the deep and of the desert, of the skies and of the earth, of +hunger and thirst, of beasts and men. What god equals him in our city! +What god receives such gifts, such incense, such sacrifices! What +though we fear Baal Moloch! Is it not the lord Melkarth whom we love? +It is he who goes before our armies, that he may tell them when to +attack, when to await the foe. I am his priest. Do you understand? I +have spoken his words many times. Now he shall speak mine." + +Marcia could hardly fail to understand the nature of the power which +this man now proposed to lay at her feet; yet it all seemed horribly +impossible that he, a priest, could dare such sacrilege for such end. +Had she been Fabius, Paullus, or even Sergius,--men who were already +groping amid the Greek schools of doubt, and were coming to regard the +religion of the state more as an invaluable means of curbing the vices +of the low and ignorant than as a divine light for the learned,--had +she been such as these, this proposal of Iddilcar would have seemed +incredible only on account of its treason to his country. And yet, in +one sense, she was better fitted than they to understand the +Carthaginian. True scepticism had found little room under the mantle +of the gloomy, the terrible cult that swayed the destinies of the +Chanaanitish races. Even the priests, while they were ready enough to +use the people's faith to minister to their own ends, trembled before +their savage gods. Low, brutish, full of inconsistent wiles their +faith might be, but such faith it was as an educated Roman could with +difficulty comprehend. On the other hand, the minds of the women of +Rome had not as yet swerved from unquestioning belief in the gods +consulting and the gods apart, and the Torquati were most conservative +among all the great houses. From childhood up--and in years she was +scarcely more than a child--all these had been very real to her. +Pomona wandered through every orchard beside her beloved Vertumnus; Pan +and his sylvan brood sported behind the foliage of every copse. She +would as soon have thought of questioning their presence as of doubting +her own being. Marcia believed; the average Roman patrician affected +to believe and indulged in his polite, Hellenic doubts; the +Carthaginian priest, while he believed, with all Marcia's fervour, in a +theology to which Marcia's was tender as the divine fellowship of the +Phaeacians, yet conceived that it was entirely legitimate to play +tricks upon his fiend-gods--to pit his cunning against theirs. If they +caught him, perhaps they would laugh, perhaps consume him in the flames +of their wrath. It depended on their mood--whether they had dined +well, perhaps; and he would take his chances. He stood, now, toward +his deities, just where the heroes of Homer had stood centuries before. +He was a living evidence of the Asiatic birth of Greek theology--only, +in the Asian races, religious feeling was not religious thought, did +not arise from the mind or change, like the cults of Europe, as the +mind that evolved or adopted them developed and outgrew its offspring. + +So it was that, while Marcia, but for her instinctive realization of +the truth, might have been utterly unable to credit the sincerity of +such prodigious wickedness, yet, armed with this intuition as a +starting-point, she sought for and found reasons to support it. The +purity of her own faith came to her aid. Perhaps the Punic gods were +mere demons, as they seemed to be, and Iddilcar knew it and relied for +protection upon the mightier gods of Rome. In a sense, she reasoned on +false premises, but her conclusion was, none the less, more accurate +than would have been that of either Paullus or Sergius. For the time, +at least, Iddilcar was entirely sincere. To be sure, if he could gain +his end by mere promises, he preferred to deceive Marcia rather than +Melkarth, but his plotting had not gotten so far as that yet. Now, his +fierce, Oriental nature was consuming with that passion which, in it, +took the place of all love. This Roman woman had aroused desires that +he had never known in the gardens of Ashera; her face was to the faces +of the courtesans who thronged the sacred woods on feast days, as the +glory of the crescent moon was to the sputter of the rancid oil in the +lamp that illumined the cell of Fancula Cluvia. Cunning beyond his +race, learned in the strange learning of the East that had come to a +few in Egypt and to fewer yet in Phoenicia, Iddilcar read the struggle +that was taking place in the girl's mind. + +"What do I care for Hannibal!" he cried; "for the Great Council! for +Carthage! I would give them all to you for one kiss. To him who has +learned all secret knowledge, the mind alone is God and city and home +and friends,--everything, everything save love," and his voice, harsh, +and strident, sank to a whisper in which was compassed all the +fierceness of ungoverned and ungovernable desire. + +Marcia knew, now, that he was speaking the truth; that he would indeed +stop at nothing; and, with the certainty, there came to her a strange +mingling of exultation, terror, and calm. She saw this man, powerful +with the power of the conqueror, learned with the learning of the +student and of the ascetic, grovelling here at her feet--slave to a +force against which no power, no philosophy could avail. She saw him +crawl to her and press her robe to his lips; she heard him mumbling and +whining like some animal, and she despised him and grew stronger in the +light of her growing self-esteem. At last she spoke. + +"It is well. I have listened and determined. Yes, you are right. I +have wished that the army should not march north; I have wished that it +should winter in Campania. I am a Roman; why should I not wish it? +You say you can accomplish this. Do so, and you shall have your +reward." + +Iddilcar sprang to his feet and threw out his arms to draw her to him; +the breath came from his chest in short gasps; his eyes were suffused +with tears through which he saw something glitter; and his hands, +clutching and unclutching, caught only air. Then his arms fell to his +sides; he paused and looked stupidly at her. She had sprung back and +was facing him defiantly with a short dagger raised to strike. + +"Not so soon, slave," she said, and her voice rang in his ears like +steel. "He who would reap must first sow." + +"You do not love me," he said sheepishly, gnashing his teeth because he +knew the foolishness of his words, and yet could say no others. + +She laughed; then her face grew sober. + +"No," she said; "I do not love you. Why should I? We love those who +serve us well--" + +"Ah! but I have promised," he broke in. "I am giving you everything." + +"I want but one thing," she said, while the lines of her mouth +hardened; "and, for that, I take no promise." + +He lowered his head to avoid the straight flash of her eyes. + +"It is I, then, who must trust--always I," he muttered. "How do I know +you will give yourself when I earn you?--how do I know you will not +kill yourself with that dagger? for you hate me," and then, with sudden +fierceness; "why should I not take my own? What hinders me?" + +"This," said Marcia, touching the point with her finger. + +Iddilcar shuddered. + +"Listen now," she began, "and be reasonable. I have named my price, +and you have said it is not too much. Why speak of love or hate? Earn +me and take me." + +"Yes," he echoed; for he was braver when his eyes studied the pavement; +"why speak of love or hate? It is you I want--your kisses, your +embraces. Who shall say that hatred may not flavour them better even +than love?" and he sneered. "Ah! but how shall I know?" + +"I am a Roman, and I have promised. Fulfil your Punic word as well, +and I swear you shall have your pay, so surely,"--and then the memory +of another day, happier, but oh! so bitterly regretted, came to her +mind,--"so surely as Orcus sends not the dead back from Acheron. Now +go." + +He drew back, step by step, still facing her, longing to rebel, yet not +daring, cringing, skulking like a whipped cur. He reached the end of +the path; the entrance to the garden was behind him. He raised his +clenched hand to the heavens. "Ah, Melkarth!" burst from his lips, +and, turning, he plunged into the house, running. + +Marcia listened eagerly to the fall of his sandals. They died away, +and the distant door creaked. Tears filled her eyes, and, shivering in +every muscle, she sank down upon the seat and buried her face in her +hands. + + + + +X. + +MELKARTH. + +Two moons had waxed and waned; Pacuvius Calavius had dined in his +winter triclinium for the first time this year, and Marcia was +rejoicing at the omen. She watched her host, as he lay back upon his +couch, and noted with pity the change that had come over him. When he +had greeted her coming, he had seemed not very much past middle age--a +brisk man, well preserved in mind and body. Now he was old--very +old--and the pallor and wrinkles were prominent through the flush of +the wine and the paint with which he strove to hide them. Even his +ambition was dead; he hardly sought the Senate House, but, stopping +within doors, maundered querulously and unceasingly to Marcia, to his +servants, to any one who would listen to him, of the blunders that were +being made, and of how war and negotiations should be conducted, +speaking always as a man for whom such things had no personal interest. +The diadem of Italy that had once blinded his eyes to good faith and +oaths of alliance, had melted away in the flames of the pyre that +consumed his son. As for Marcia, she had come to regard him with +something of that indulgent consideration which we feel for the aged +and infirm. His former attitude toward herself, which had filled her +with contempt and disgust, had vanished utterly, and, in its place, was +a fatherly kindness that had now no nearer object upon which to lavish +itself. As for the household, what little discipline had once +pertained, was gone. The slaves were no longer punished, and, +slavelike, they presumed upon their master's gentleness or +indifference. They pilfered right and left; they neglected duties and +orders; until, at last, a large measure of the care of her host and his +house devolved upon Marcia alone; and Marcia, also, had softened and +grown kindlier, and was as slow to ask for punishments as was Calavius +to decree them. They seemed like two who were awaiting death, and +would not add to the measure of human misery, knowing, from their own, +how great this was. + +"Let them enjoy a false freedom for a few days longer," said Calavius. +"Soon we shall be gone, and then--who knows? I have no heirs, and the +state may not deal so kindly with them." Strangely enough, he seemed +always to assume Marcia's coming death along with his own; and when she +gazed into her mirror, its story moulded well with that reflected in +the mirror of her thoughts. + +She had grown thin--very thin--and pale, and her eyes burned, large and +luminous, as with the fires of fever. Her lips, too, were redder even +than when the blood had tinted them with hues of more perfect vigour. + +Hannibal had continued to preserve the attitude of respectful +consideration which had marked his demeanour on that day of which they +never spoke. He still greeted Calavius as, "father," when he came to +ask about his health, and on the days when he did not come, he sent +some Carthaginian of rank, generally Iddilcar, to make courteous +inquiries in his stead. + +Calavius, on the other hand, complained continuously of the +schalischim's delay, and Hannibal listened with downcast face, frowning +to himself, and made no answer except that he was the servant of the +gods. Marcia's presence he entirely ignored. Still, he spent little +of his time in Capua, and of this Calavius was now speaking. + +"Truly did you note the news we have received to-day, my daughter? Two +of the new engines destroyed before Casilinum!--Casilinum, forsooth!--a +paltry village, against which the Capuan children would hardly deign to +march! It is Rome--Rome--Rome that calls--and this great general, this +conqueror, sits down before Nuceria, Acerrae, Nola, Casilinum. Soon, +mark me," and his eyes gleamed prophetic, "Rome will sit down before +Capua: and then, receive thou me, O Death, who art my friend and +well-wisher!" + +Marcia wondered at this vehemence, so different from his manner through +all these weeks. + +"But the omens, my father," she said, after a moment's pause. "I have +heard that the gods of Carthage forbid the march north. Perhaps they +fear to contend with the gods of Rome at the foot of their own hills." + +"Tush! girl," exclaimed Calavius, impatiently. "Who does not know that +the gods say such words as their thievish priests filch from them. +Mark now this fellow that comes from the captain-general. Do you not +see how the fingers of his left hand clutch and unclutch? Were +Hannibal to crucify him and a few like, his gods might utter more +favouring responses. Meanwhile, our engines that should thunder at +your Capenian Gate are consumed before mud heaps; and who knows but all +the time some tree grows stouter that it may bear the weight of this +Hannibal, the slave of gods that should be taught their place and their +duties." + +Marcia, despite her complicity, listened, shuddering, to these +sacrilegious words; and, mingled with her shrinking from a philosophy +that dared to talk of the immortals as mere means to be used or cast +aside as human ends might dictate, was a terror lest similar reasoning +should at last find place in Hannibal's mind and thus bring to naught +her aims and her sacrifices. It was easy to see how the general chafed +at the unwonted delay, and with what willingness he listened when +another spoke the words which he himself dared not utter. + +Calavius had but just finished his tirade when they both turned at a +slight noise and saw Iddilcar standing in the entrance of the room. +How long he had been there--what he had heard, neither knew, but his +face wore the subtle smile which, though well-nigh native to its lines, +yet seemed always to bear some hidden import. + +"The favour of Melkarth and of the Baalim be with you!" he said softly. +"Your servants, my Pacuvius, are not over-well trained. There was no +offer to bear word of my coming--no offer of attendance. The porter +hardly deigned to swing the door for me." + +Marcia, knowing Iddilcar as she did, was prompt to take this speech in +the light of an explanation of his eavesdropping; but the once sharp +intelligence of Calavius had been too much deadened to search for +secondary meanings. + +"I am an old man, priest," he said querulously. "Why should I leave +stripes and crying behind me?" + +Iddilcar shrugged his shoulders. "That may be," he replied, "but if we +had such servants as yours in Carthage we should send their shades +ahead of us." + +He had indeed deftly parried any attack or inquiry. Then, suddenly, +and of his own accord, he turned back to strike. + +"And so you have been condemning the piety of the schalischim? the +integrity of the college of priests? the truth of the gods themselves, +for aught I know? Have a care!"--he was lashing himself into a +fury--"I have listened to your words. If I reported them, how long +before you would both be sent to Carthage to keep comradeship with that +terrible fellow, Decius Magius? Have care! have care lest the gods +strike through me, their servant. Nevertheless the gods are merciful +to those who bring offerings--peace-offerings of gold and jewels and +raiment and spices. Come, what will you give me that I smother their +wrath--I, Iddilcar, your friend, whom you speak ill of behind his +back--whom you hate---yes, both of you;" and his eyes flashed at Marcia +with a strange recklessness that she had never seen in them. + +Wondering and terrified, she listened to his outburst of rage, but +Calavius heard it calmly, and answered, without troubling himself to +probe its import. + +"You shall have a talent of silver and such jewels as you choose," he +said, rising. "I will go and give the orders." + +"Orders!" sneered the other; but to Marcia it seemed that the word and +look covered suspicion at the ready acquiescence of the Capuan. + +"Then I will go with you and see that these orders are obeyed. Come; +ah!--" and he turned to Marcia; "and will you be here when I return? I +wish to speak with you." + +She inclined her head, still wondering, and when they had left the room +her wonder deepened. Surely a change had taken place. A Carthaginian +was always said to love money, but for Iddilcar to seek to obtain it by +such crude and violent means, from a man whom his general professed to +honour and protect, seemed to augur something of which she knew not. +Either Hannibal's protection was to be, for some reason, withdrawn, or +else?--but what else could embolden the priest to such license? The +look, too, with which he had regarded herself! She had restrained him +with some difficulty during the past months, but now she felt +instinctively that her control had vanished. Even violence seemed +near; for that Iddilcar could be fool enough to dream that his mere +repetition of the words he had listened to, would enrage Hannibal, she +did not for a moment believe. The general had heard the same from +Calavius, face to face, and had only frowned and bit his lips behind +his beard, as if feeling their justice. What, then, could have +happened? + +"Ah! you are still here." + +She looked up quickly, and saw that the priest had returned alone. He +went on, speaking quickly and nervously, but in low tones:-- + +"The time has come. And so you were thinking, thinking of what? Was +it rejoicing that Tanis was to give you to me so soon?" and he showed +his teeth, like a dog. "Listen: they suspect me. I have done all as +you wished, but there was a council to-day in the camp before +Casilinum, and Maharbal fell on his knees, as he did after Cannae, and +begged to march north,--not with the cavalry alone, as then; he knew it +was too late for that: and the schalischim knit his brows and frowned. +Then Hasdrubal and Karthalo added their prayers and pleadings, +gathering around him, and then he turned his sombre face to me, and +asked if it was permitted; but, before I could answer, for my mind was +disturbed, that animal whom they call, 'The Fighter' had drawn his +sword and held it over my head, crying out: 'Yes, friends, it is +permitted--see! It is permitted;' and then I felt myself grow pale, +and I heard the great beast laugh. A moment later and Hannibal had +ordered him to put up his sword, and I saw Maharbal whispering quick +words in the general's ear, among which it seemed to me that his lips +formed your name. Again, Hannibal asked: 'Is it permitted, Iddilcar? +or what sacrifice will your lord have from us? Have we not served him +faithfully? Is there aught he wishes?' and I felt all their eyes on +me; but, above all, were yours that were soon to smile. Therefore I +took courage, which the lord Melkarth granted, and spoke boldly, +explaining that I had as yet been able to win no favour, though I had +prayed long and fasted and lashed myself with thongs, whereupon +Hannibal-the-Fighter made as if to tear off my mantle, laughing in his +beard; and when I saw they did not believe me, my terror came back. +Then it was that Melkarth shed wisdom upon his servant, and, after a +moment's thought, I spoke up, thus:-- + +"'Listen, lords,' I said; 'I am a native Carthaginian, like you all, +and I reverence the gods. Howbeit it may chance that here, beyond the +sea, it is not so easy to win their favour, so that they shall go +before us. New and strange sacrifices and pleadings wherein I am +untaught may be needed to pierce the denser ether of this land. Truly, +lords, as ye have not failed in piety, neither have I erred in +divination, for Melkarth has spoken many times, telling me of the +unnumbered woes that would overwhelm the army if it marched upon Rome +unbidden, and he hath spoken truth, and I have saved you to revile me +for it--only I would learn if there be yet speech better fitted to his +ear.' I paused, and they were silent, wondering. Then I spoke on: +'Grant me, lords, three days, that I may journey to Cumae; for I have +heard that a woman dwells there, wise in the ways of the gods, and, if +I bear her rich presents, it may happen that she will teach me the +words that shall pierce this dull air, even to where Baal-Melkarth sits +enthroned in Mappalia, that he may grant all your wishes.' So I +crossed my arms upon my breast, and, bowing my head, listened. 'At +Cumae?' growled Jubellius Taurea, who sat near me, 'say, rather, at the +house of Pacuvius Calavius,' and I felt myself trembling, for then I +knew surely that I had heard Maharbal aright, and that I was suspected. +Still, I stood fast, and at last Hannibal spoke: 'Go to Cumae for three +days,' he said sternly. 'Take what you wish--one talent, two, three; +only bring back the words that shall win favour;' and Hasdrubal added: +'And harken! lord; if you win not favour, we shall yet march, and +peradventure you shall come with us--if they drive not the nails too +deep;' but there was an outcry at this, for they trembled lest Melkarth +should smite them, and Hasdrubal spoke again, grumbling: 'Ah, masters, +you have not seen soldiers as I have seen them, becoming bloated with +wine and food, and soft in the arms of courtesans;' but Hannibal +interrupted him, crying out to me again: 'Go!--go! There is little +time for the march, and it may be we are already too late. Go and do +all things so that the lord, Baal-Melkarth, shall favour us.' So I +went out, and, having taken their talents, I am here. This old sheep +has disgorged another talent together with gems. Therefore come now +and we shall escape hence." + +Marcia saw a dimness before her, amid which his jewels and bracelets +and earrings seemed to mingle strange glancings with the fires that +burned in his eyes. At last she faltered:-- + +"But your work?--it is not finished. How shall I know?--if I go with +you?--" + +The rings on his hand were sinking deep into her wrist; his lips were +close to her ear. + +"Ah! you will not go? You will play with me--deceive me? Listen now. +To-morrow I shall be here with horses and money--in the morning--very +early--before light; and you will go like a little bird that is tamed. +These days will give us time to gain more, if more be needed. Look! I +have hazarded all. Shall I lose my reward now because my work be +unfinished by ever so little? It may be that, having gone, I shall not +return. Do you think I will leave you here to laugh at me? You will +go, or, to-morrow, Baal-Melkarth shall speak the word, and, before +midday, Hannibal shall give orders to march to Rome. Why do you think +I have gathered this wealth? Look! I have risked all for it, and you +shall not escape." + +Exhausted by his rapid vehemence, he stood back, breathing hard and +trying to smile. + +"Ah! moon of Tanis, you will come," he murmured, holding out his arms. +"We shall escape to Sicily--to Greece--to Egypt--to the far East. We +shall be rich with the spoils of fools--" + +A slight scraping noise came to their ears, and both started. Iddilcar +sprang swiftly to the entrance of the room, but the lamp in the hall +had gone out, and his eyes saw nothing in the darkness. Uncertain what +to do, he looked back to where Marcia stood, pale and rigid. His voice +and hands trembled as he repeated in a loud whisper:-- + +"You will come? You will be ready?" + +"Yes," she said, "I will come;" but she did not look at him, as she +spoke, only she caught the triumphant gleam of his eyes; a thousand +weird lights seemed to whirl around her, and she felt herself sinking. +It seemed, for a moment, as if a slave in a gray tunic was supporting +her, and then all consciousness fled. + + + + +XI. + +THE SLAVE. + +It was an hour past midnight, when Marcia first knew the agony of +returning reason. The gong in the Forum had just struck. Where was +she? Surely in her own apartment! How had she come there? Then, +slowly, the memory of yesterday grew clear--the awful duty of +to-morrow. With eyelids fast shut, as if dreading to open them to the +darkness, she buried her throbbing temples beneath the rich Campanian +coverlid. She could still see the eyes of Iddilcar gleaming wolfish +amid his jewels; could see him standing in the doorway, as he turned +from that startled rush in pursuit of what had been, doubtless, only a +whisper of their imaginations. He had said he would come for +her--before daybreak--and she must be ready. Later, she could approach +death with suppliant hands, but now she must be ready. Her life was +not her own yet. It was her country's. Later, the shade of Lucius +would beckon. Surely he would forgive her for having avenged him. But +how had she reached her room? Had it been Calavius or the slaves who +had found her? did they suspect? Then she remembered the man who had +seemed to catch her as she fell. Where could Iddilcar have been then? +Had he hurried away? probably enough. Again a slight scratching noise, +as of some one softly changing his position,--like the sound which had +startled the priest, came to her ears. Ah, protecting gods! what was +true, and what but dreams? Her whole life was passing before her, +phantasmagorial and unreal. Surely some one was present! She _felt_ +it. Had Iddilcar come already? The horror of the thought gave her +courage, and, thrusting down the coverlid, she opened her eyes +defiantly and tried to pierce the darkness. Nothing was visible, but +she knew she was not alone, and, leaning upon one elbow, she reached +out, groping. + +Suddenly a hand grasped hers, a strong, bony hand, gripping it tightly, +and by its very energy commanding silence. It seemed strange to her +that she did not scream, but then she had known that she would find +some one, and had the hand been Iddilcar's, she would certainly have +realized it by the loathing in her soul. For her, now, all other men +had become friends. Therefore she was not frightened, did not cry +out--rather it was a soothing sense of companionship that came to +her--almost of reliance. Why had this man come?--perhaps to help her; +surely not to injure. Who was he? man or god? Gods had appeared to +those of olden times, when the Republic was young, and Romans +worshipped, believing. She felt very brave--fearless. + +"Who are you?" she whispered. + +"I am a slave," answered a voice. "I brought you here, and I am +watching." + +It was a voice that, while it rang hard, yet had in it an assurance of +protection--even of power, and it thrilled her as with some familiar +memory. Nevertheless she could not place its owner in the household. +Calavius had many slaves; a few of them had been free-born, and some, +perhaps, might even have known a measure of social standing, before the +turn of war or of financial fortunes had lost them to home and position. + +"Who are you?" she asked again. + +"I am a new servant," said the other. "Pacuvius Calavius bought me +yesterday in the Street of the Whitened Feet." + +She was silent a moment, trying hard to think; she felt the man's hand +trembling, and then, suddenly realizing, she drew her own away. + +"And yet you are going to-morrow with this beast--this animal!" said +the voice, bitterly. + +Startled again by the tone and accent, no less than by the words, she +burst out:-- + +"Ah! why do you say that?--but you do not know, and I cannot tell you. +Yes, you are right. I am going away to-morrow. I am--a courtesan. +What then?" + +"By the gods! no!" he cried, and she heard him spring to his feet. +Then, lowering his voice, "If I thought _that_, I would kill you." + +"You would only forestall my own blow," she said quietly, and there was +new silence. + +At last he spoke again. + +"Tell me all of this matter. You are safe. I am a Roman." + +"A Roman--and a slave?" + +"And a slave. Tell me the truth quickly." + +The voice sounded weak and hollow now, but still strangely familiar. +She began her story, speaking in a low monotone. + +"I am Marcia, daughter of Titus Manlius Torquatus. I loved, and yet I +drove my lover from me, and he was killed on the black day of Cannae. +Then the Senate feared lest the enemy should advance to Rome--prayed +for the winter--for time. And I was beautiful, and I had no love, save +for the king, Orcus. So the thought came to me that by my +blandishments I might win power with these people, and, by power, +delay, and, by delay, safety for Rome--and revenge for my lord, Lucius. +Therefore I journeyed to Capua. You see that I have played my +part--that I have won? Tomorrow I go to pay the price. What matters +it? Then I can die." + +He had listened in silence; only she heard his breath coming hard, and, +a moment after she had finished, he spoke:-- + +"No--you cannot die--not thus. _I_ have died--once, yet I live. +Listen! I, like the lover you tell of, was slain at Cannae, pierced +through by javelins, and I lay with the dead heaped above me--ah! so +many hours--days, perhaps--I do not know; until the slave-dealers, +passing among the corpses, found me breathing, and wondered at my +strength, auguring a good value. Therefore they took me, and when I +was well of my wounds they brought me here--to Capua, and sold me to +Pacuvius Calavius--to whom may the gods give the death of a traitor! +Lo! now, let it be for a warning that Orcus does indeed send back the +dead from Acheron." + +He leaned forward, as he spoke the words, and there came to Marcia a +sudden memory of two occasions when she had used the ancient +saying--the colloquial "never" of Rome. Once it had bound her to +Iddilcar, and once, far back, in happier times, it had parted her +forever from Sergius. Tears rolled down her cheeks. A dim light +seemed to be creeping into the room--very dim, but as her eyes grew dry +again, she could begin to trace the outlines of her companion sitting +on a low stool beside her couch. Surely those were footsteps in the +hall--yes, footsteps--and the approaching light of a lamp. + +Marcia's heart stood still. The slave had started from his seat and +drawn far back in the darkest corner of the room; then the curtains +were pushed cautiously aside, and the tall form of Iddilcar stood +revealed by the light of the small, silver lamp he bore in his hand. A +long, dark mantle enveloped him from head to foot. + +"Come," he said, speaking sharply but in low tones; and, holding the +lamp above his head, he tried to peer into the apartment. "Come; it +will soon be light. Ah! you have not arisen? No matter; I have +another cloak, and we must not delay. The slaves are well bribed, and +Calavius sleeps soundly--forever. My horses, good horses, are in the +street; a few moments and we gain the gate. The schalischim's own ring +is on my finger, and the seal of the Great Council shall win us egress. +_You_ are my slave: that is how you shall go with me--and I accept the +omen." + +He laughed low and harshly, and Marcia shuddered, thinking of her host +lying slain--by his false slaves?--by the order of Hannibal?--no, +rather by the hand or plotting of this wretch who now called her, +"slave." + +"Come, come quickly, Romanus," he said, mimicking the Latin +nomenclature of foreign slaves. At the same time he took a step +forward into the room and let the curtains fall behind him. "Come, or +I shall have to order the rods to those white shoulders. That would +be--" + +And then a shadow seemed to glide forward from the corner half behind +him. For a moment a stream of lamplight fell upon a white, set face +behind the Carthaginian's shoulder--a face that was indeed from the +land of the four rivers; an arm was lashed around the priest's neck, +and, while Marcia stared spellbound at the shade that had come back to +save her, the lamp fell from Iddilcar's hand,--and then she lay still +and listened to the furious struggle that ensued, the scuffling of feet +upon the marble floor, the breathing that came and went in short, quick +gasps. Now it seemed that both fell together; but not in victory or +defeat, for the noises told of continuing combat; no words, only the +horrible sound of writhing and of hard-drawn breath. + +Breaking at last from the bonds of dazed wonder, she glided from the +couch, groping for the fallen lamp. She must _see_. She must _know_. +Then she remembered the room-lamp that stood on a stand by the bed, and +began to feel her way toward it. The grating of metal against metal +came to her ears, followed by a low exclamation and a sharp "Ah!" +gasped exultantly; then came the sound of two fierce blows. + +She had found the lamp now, and was trying to strike a light. The +victory was still undecided, though the combatants seemed to groan with +each breath they drew. At last the wick caught the spark, and the +mellow light and the odour of perfumed oil began slowly to fill the +room. A statuette or vase came crashing to the floor, and, raising the +lamp high above her head, she threw its light upon the struggling men. +For a moment she could make out nothing except a dark mass at her feet. +Then she caught the glitter of a weapon, and at last her eyes grasped +something of the situation. + +Iddilcar was undermost. She could see his black, curling beard that +seemed matted and ragged now, while the Roman--the man who bore the +face of the dead Sergius--was extended upon him, grasping, with both +hands, the Carthaginian's wrists. It was the latter who held the blade +that had glittered--a long Numidian dagger, but the hold upon his +wrists prevented his using it, and the Roman dared not release either +hand to wrench it away. There were bruises, too, on Iddilcar's +face--the blows of fists; but the blood on the floor told of some other +wound, doubtless the Roman's, inflicted before he could restrain the +hand that dealt it. Now, neither seemed able to accomplish further +injury, until the strength of one should fail; and if it was her +protector's blood that was flowing?--the thought was ominous. Neither +dared to cry out, for the aid that might come was too doubtful, and, +besides, they needed to husband all the air their lungs could gain. + +Marcia saw these things and thought them clearly, quickly, and in +order. Her mind seemed to grow as strangely calm as if busied in +selecting some shade of wool for her distaff. She reached down and, by +a quick movement, twisted the dagger from the stiffened, weary fingers +of the Carthaginian. A cry burst from him--the first since the +triumphant "Ah!" that had doubtless come from his lips when he used the +weapon, a few moments since. He writhed furiously, and Marcia stood, +holding the dagger in her hand, hesitating rather through dread of +injuring this new Sergius that had arisen to aid her. + +The Roman, however, seeing himself freed from the necessity of guarding +against the sharp point that had menaced him, now suddenly released the +wrists of his adversary, and, grasping him by the throat, he lifted his +head several times, and struck it violently against the pavement. The +Carthaginian groaned, and his hold relaxed for a moment. Then, tearing +himself free, and with one hand still gripping the throat of the +prostrate man, the Roman raised his body, and, turning toward Marcia, +reached out for the dagger. With eyes fixed wonderingly on his, she +gave it to him, as if only half conscious of her act. + +Again the scene changed. Less helpless than he had seemed, and with +staring eyes, before which death danced, Iddilcar gathered all his +remaining strength for one last, despairing effort, wrenched himself +loose, and staggered to his feet. + +Then Marcia saw Sergius, for she knew now it was indeed he, saw him +throw himself forward on his knees, and, catching Iddilcar about the +hips, plunge the blade into his side. + +The priest shrieked once, as he felt the point, and struggled furiously +to escape, raining blows upon the other's head and shoulders. Again +the long dagger rose and fell, piercing the man's entrails. Gods! +would he never fall?--and still he maintained his footing, but now his +hands beat only the air, and his struggles became agonized writhings. +Sergius' grip about his hips had never loosened, and the dagger rose +and fell a third time. Iddilcar groaned long and deeply and sank down +in a heap, carrying his slayer with him. + + + + +XII. + +FLIGHT. + +Slowly Sergius disengaged himself from the death grip that entangled +him, and, rising, turned to where Marcia stood. Still holding the +lighted lamp above her head and peering forward, she gazed into his +eyes with a look wherein wonder and terror were mingled with awakening +joy. + +"Who are you?" she faltered at last; "you who come as a slave, bearing +the face of a shade?" + +"I _am_ a shade," he answered; "one sent back by Orcus--by the hand of +Mercury, to save a Roman woman from dishonour." + +"Oh, my lord Lucius!" she cried, falling upon her knees and holding out +her hands toward him. "Truly it was not dishonour to avenge you, to +save the Republic; but if it were, then may your manes pity and forgive +me. There, now, is the dagger. Take it and use it, so that I, too, +may be your companion when you return to the land that owns you. I +love you, Lucius; the laughter of the old days has passed. Surely a +woman who is about to die may say to the dead words which a girl might +not say to her lover for the shame of them. I love you--I love you. +Take me before the maiden, Proserpine, that she may show us favour--to +your land--" + +The lamp fell from her hand; she felt herself raised suddenly from the +pavement, and strained hard against a bosom that rose and fell with all +the pulsations of life and love. Frightened, wondering, she struggled +faintly, while kisses warm and human fell upon her brow, her eyes, her +lips. + +"Marcia, little bird, dearest, purest, best," murmured a voice close to +her ear; "yes, you shall go with me to my land, and that land is Rome." + +Still she trembled in his arms, not daring to believe. + +"Wait," he said. Then, releasing her for a moment, he regained the +fallen lamp, relighted it and placed it in its niche, facing her again +with arms outspread. + +"Look well; am I not indeed Lucius Sergius--once pierced and worn with +wounds, but now well and strong to fight or love? The tale I told you +was true. It was my tale--the saving of one Roman from the slaughter +of her legions." + +She drew closer and looked again into his eyes. + +"Yes," she said, and in her voice the joy began to sweep away all other +feelings; "yes, you are indeed Lucius Sergius Fidenas--man, not shade--" + +But, taking her hand, he interrupted:-- + +"Do you not remember the omen, my Marcia? how you said you would love +me when Orcus should send back the dead from Acheron? how I accepted +it? how the gods have brought all about, as was most to their honour +and my joy?--for now you have indeed said that you love me." + +She placed her free hand upon his shoulder saying:-- + +"And that which I, Marcia, daughter of Titus Manlius Torquatus, have +said unto the shade, that say I to the living Lucius Sergius. Take me, +love; for where thou art Caius, there shall I be Caia." + +Once again he took her in his arms and kissed her upon the lips, long +and tenderly. Then she drew herself back. + +"You are wounded?" she said anxiously. "Forgive me that I forgot. +Truly I forget all things, now--in this wonder and joy." + +Sergius laughed. + +"He pricked me--in the thigh, I think, but not deeply. The gods have +brought me so close to the shades that I am enough akin to them not to +heed little hurts." + +But she had seized the lamp and was examining his injury--a flesh wound +that, while it had bled freely, yet seemed to have avoided the larger +muscles and blood-vessels. + +"Did I not tell you?" he said reassuringly, as she rose from her knee. +"A close bandage so that it will not bleed--that is all we shall want, +for my strength must remain with me yet a little while, if we would +truly go to Rome and not to the realms of the dead." + +She said nothing, but, tearing strips from her stole, proceeded deftly +to bind them around the leg. + +"Agathocles himself could not do better--nay, I doubt Aesculapius--" +but she rose again quickly and placed her finger upon his lips. + +"It is the gods who have saved us to each other. Do not make them +angry, lest they withdraw their favour. I am ready to follow you, my +lord Lucius." + +Standing erect, he raised both hands in invocation. + +"A shrine to Venus the Preserver!--to Apollo the Healer!" + +Then, stooping quickly, he drew the long, dark robe of Iddilcar from +where it lay entangled about the legs of the corpse. Fortunately it +had slipped down from the Carthaginian's shoulders early in the +struggle; perhaps he had tried to free himself from it; perhaps it had +been partly torn away; but, in either event, it had fallen where it +must have hampered his movements even more seriously, and where it was +less stained with his blood than might have been expected. + +Sergius threw it over his own tattered, blood-stained garments, +striving to hide the rents, and raising it high about his neck so as to +conceal his face as much as possible. Meanwhile, Marcia, having bound +on her sandals, had of her own accord donned the mantle Iddilcar had +brought for her, and which had fallen by the door of the apartment. +Then, gathering up her long, thick hair, she confined it close above +her head, drawing down upon it the hat that lay beside the cloak--a +broad-brimmed Greek petasus, admirably adapted for concealment as well +as protection. + +"I am ready," she said eagerly. "Let us make haste." + +Sergius was stooping over the dead man, searching for something. + +"It is the ring," he said; "the ring with the seal of the Great Council +of which he spoke. How else should we pass the guard at the gate?" + +A moment later he rose, and, going to the light, examined carefully the +several rings taken from the priest's-fingers. + +One by one they dropped and rolled away over the floor. The last only +remained, and Marcia, looking over his shoulder, saw a heavy, gold +signet bearing the device of a horse under a palm tree. + +"Come now," he said, taking her hand. He had thrust the long knife of +Iddilcar into the girdle of his tunic, and this was their only weapon. +So, leading Marcia, he quickly traversed the halls and courts and +gained the door, which hung ajar and unattended. Outside, a company of +five men were gathered, all mounted. Two were apparently soldiers, a +sort of guard; the rest were servants. Heavy looking packages were +bound, behind them, on their horses' backs, doubtless the money which +Iddilcar had gotten, while two extra animals, saddled and bridled, were +held in waiting. + +The heart of Sergius leaped as he noted the fine, small heads and +slender, muscular legs that marked the Asian stock of their mounts. +Iddilcar had provided well for all emergencies; but Sergius felt some +anxiety lest a chance glimpse of his face might lead to detection. The +sky in the east was already beginning to lighten, and there were more +men of the escort than he had anticipated. Speech would be fatal; +therefore he strode quickly out, took the bridle of one of the horses +from the man who held it, and swung himself upon its back. To assist +Marcia could not be done without exciting suspicion, and he ground his +teeth when she tried to follow his example, and one of the servants +laughed and pushed her roughly into the saddle. Then they rode on, and +the others followed, whispering together. + +He had muffled his face a trifle too closely, perhaps, and he had +mounted the horse standing, whereas all knew that the Cappadocians were +trained to kneel at the word. Therefore the men of the escort +wondered, though they hardly ventured to suspect. + +Marcia felt, rather than noted, their attitude, and Sergius, glancing +toward her, saw that she was trembling. He urged his horse faster +toward the gate that opened upon the Appian Way; boldness and speed +were all that could save them. Suddenly the gate loomed up, gray and +massive, in the mist of the early morning. Several soldiers lounged +forward from the guardhouse, whence came the rattle of dice and the +shrill laughter of a woman. Sergius showed his ring and said nothing, +while Marcia came close to him, shivering, for the morning air was +chill and biting. Their followers had drawn rein, and were gathered in +a little clump several spear-lengths behind. + +Meanwhile the soldiers, Spaniards they seemed, were gazing stupidly at +the device on the seal and making irrelevant comments. It was evident +that their night had been spent among the wineskins, and that a new +danger menaced. + +Summoning what Punic he knew, Sergius leaned forward and asked in a low +but stern voice to see their officer. Fortunately his own followers +were too far away to hear his words, and drunken Iberians would not be +critical as to a faulty Punic accent. + +Still they hesitated, chattered together, and stared, but at last one +who seemed more sober than the rest reeled away to the guard-house, +and, after some delay and evident persuasion, emerged again with a +young officer whose moist, hanging lips and filmy eyes showed that he, +too, had been dragged from the pursuit of pleasure. Helmetless and +with loosened corselet, every detail of his appearance told the story +of relaxed discipline. + +"What do you want? at this hour?" he said thickly, ambling forward and +leaning heavily upon the shoulder of his scarcely more steady guide. + +Again Sergius held out the ring, and the man, being a native +Carthaginian, recognized it through the mist of his intoxication, and, +throwing himself at full length, touched the earth with his forehead. + +"What do you wish?" he said, rising and standing, somewhat sobered by +the presence of such authority. + +"Open the gate. I ride under orders of the schalischim," said the +Roman, again speaking low and rapidly. + +The officer turned and shouted to his men, and several ran to unbar the +gate with such speed as their condition warranted. The other occupants +of the guard-house were now grouped at the door, five men, half armed, +and two dishevelled women with painted faces and flower-embroidered +pallas. + +The gate swung slowly on its hinges. + +"The light of the Baals be with you, friend!" exclaimed Sergius, and he +and Marcia rode through, with hearts beating madly. Voices raised in +discussion made them turn in their saddles. In his drunken stupidity, +the Carthaginian officer was trying to detain their escort and +servants. "The master had said nothing about them. How did he know +they belonged to the same party?" Then all began gesticulating and +shouting to Sergius for help and explanation. + +Here was an unforeseen incident, and the mind of the young Roman viewed +it rapidly in all its lights. On the one side, he would be relieved of +an awkward following that might at any moment begin to suspect him; on +the other hand to leave these in the lurch would be to invite prompt +suspicion. Still, they were fifty yards or more in advance, their +horses were good, and more space would be gained before the tangle at +the gate could be straightened out; therefore he waved his arm, as if +making some signal, and, turning again in his saddle, rode on, but +without increasing his speed. + +Louder shouts followed him, for, as he had intended, his gesture had +proved unintelligible. Then, when they saw he did not stop, the cries +ceased suddenly and an animated chattering came to his ears. Here was +suspicion trying to make itself understood and, at last, succeeding, +for, as Sergius glanced back once more to note how the matter +progressed, the young captain of the gate sprang forward and shouted +for him to halt. + +"A third altar--to Mercury the hastener!" exclaimed Sergius. "Quick +now! with the knees!" and, pressing the flanks of his Cappadocian, both +animals bounded forward into a headlong gallop. + + + + +XIII. + +WINTER QUARTERS. + +The beat of hoofs upon the great blocks of basalt rang through the +morning air in measured cadence, and soon an answering echo came up +from the south. Open flight had at last dispelled all doubt and given +the signal for pursuit. + +First came the two Africans of the original escort, released and bidden +to ride for life or death; a short distance behind was the Carthaginian +captain on his own horse which had probably been haltered behind the +guard-house; and, last of all, three of the Spanish guard, who had +thrown the servants and baggage from the animals that bore them, and +appropriated such speed as these afforded for the business in hand. + +That the officer was pretty well sobered seemed apparent. A fugitive +bearing the ring of the schalischim--the seal of the Great +Council--must be a man of importance, or else the possession of such a +talisman augured the commission of some terrible crime. Already he saw +himself stretched writhing upon the cross; the crowd, reviling or +gibing, seemed surging about his feet; and his howls of anguish found +voice in a storm of guttural objurgations to men and horses, mingled +with prayers and vows to the gods of Carthage. + +He had overtaken the two Africans now, for his animal was better than +theirs, but the three others laboured hopelessly behind: the +Cappadocians flew rather than galloped far in advance. Already nearly +three hundred yards separated them from their pursuers, and the gap was +widening slowly but surely. Only the officer held his own, for he was +now forging ahead of the Africans. + +"Ah, cowards! slime! filth!" he shouted to his struggling men. "The +cross! the cross! that for you unless we catch them! that for me!--for +all! Ah, Eschmoun! Ah, Khamon!--Melkarth!--gifts!--gold, gems, robes, +spices!--my first-born to the Baals! to the Baals! Help! speed!" + +The man was mad--mad indeed with terror and newly dispelled +drunkenness; and his horse, a great African, coal-black save for one +white hoof, seemed to partake of his master's frenzy. With ears lying +flat along his head, and eyes that burned into those of Sergius, when +he ventured to glance behind him,--glaring sheer through distance and +dust like the very eyes of those demons his rider invoked,--the beast +thundered on, equalling the speed of the light Asiatic chargers by the +force of strength alone. + +From time to time the fugitives turned their heads to measure the +distance, and the sight of this unwearied pursuer appeared to fascinate +them as by some weird power. The rest were beaten out,--the Spaniards +lost to sight, the Africans visible only by the dust that hung over +them far behind. + +The mountains to the eastward seemed to be dancing away in a mad chase +toward the south, a chase which Tifata itself was urging on. The +glimmer of white in the north told of the morning sun striking upon +houses. Still they rode on, pursuers and pursued. + +Suddenly a sound, half-trumpet note, half bellow, swelled up ahead. +Then another answered it, and another and another took up the refrain. + +Sergius' face blanched, and, with a sudden effort, he threw his animal +almost upon its haunches. Marcia was carried several spear-lengths +farther before she could check her speed. Wonder and the dread of some +accident drove the blood to her heart. A hoarse shout of triumph came +from their pursuer, as she turned to ride back. + +She asked no questions. Surely Sergius knew what was best. She saw +Iddilcar's long dagger in his hand, and that he was about to fight. + +"Back!--back! and to one side," he called, as she rode up. "Did you +not hear the elephants? That is Casilinum, and they are besieging it. +We should have remembered." + +He darted forward to meet the Carthaginian, fearful that he, too, would +draw rein and await the coming of his followers. Then indeed all would +be lost. Six soldiers on the one side and a camp full on the other +were hopeless odds against a wounded man armed only with a Numidian +dagger. + +But it was Bacchus that fought for Rome that day--Bacchus, to whom no +altar had been vowed. A night of debauchery and the sudden terror of +its awakening had effectually blurred whatever judgment the officer may +have had, and his one thought was to kill or capture his quarry. + +So they came together, Sergius swerving his Cappadocian as they met. +The officer struck blindly, but the good lord Bacchus put out his hand +and turned the blow aside. Then, as they parted, a strange thing +happened. Marcia had wondered dimly why Sergius struggled with the +long, girdleless garment of Iddilcar, tearing it off as he rode. Now, +when the two horses sprang apart, she saw that he had thrown it +dexterously over the Carthaginian, blinding his blow and tangling him +in its heavy folds. + +Prompt to respond to knee and rein, the Cappadocian wheeled, almost as +soon as he ran clear, but the African thundered on, while its rider +cursed in blind terror and tried to check his horse and to free his +face and sword-arm. A moment, and he had succeeded, but he succeeded +too late. The Roman was at his back, and Marcia saw the long dagger +rise and fall in a swift thrust. She could not see how the point took +its victim just at the nape; but she saw him pitch forward like an ox +under the axe. + +Almost before she could grasp what had happened, Sergius was beside the +fallen man, had resumed the priest's tunic, red with new blood stains, +and was on his horse again. His brow lay in deep lines as he rode +toward her. + +"Come," he said. "The gods favouring us, we must pass their camp +before the rest come up. Grant that those may linger by the corpse, +and that we meet no check." + +Again they were galloping toward the lines that lay about Casilinum. +All had happened so quickly that even now they could scarcely see the +plume in the distant dust cloud that told where the pursuers straggled +on. They had turned into the new side-road without meeting a man. +Then a small foraging party halted them, and Sergius showed the seal +and spoke in Gallic to its Numidian leader. A little farther on was +stationed another band, and here the delay was longer ere his halting +Punic convinced the Spanish piquet, and they again rode forward +unsuspected. All had bowed low to the horse and the palm tree, and no +one dared question what weighty mission urged on the man in the torn +and blood-stained tunic and the slender youth, his companion. + +Now they were back again upon the pavement of the Appian; the last line +was passed, and the beleaguered town with its stout-hearted garrison +lay well behind. Perhaps that sudden uproar told of the arrival of +their pursuers; perhaps those glittering points amid distant dust +clouds meant a new pursuit. Surely none but Mercury had winged the +feet of the Cappadocians! Unwearied, like springs of steel, the stout +muscles drove them on--on over the marshland with the glint of the sea +before them--on, up the rising ground. + +Again and again Sergius turned in his saddle scanning the road behind, +feeling the presence of pursuers whom he could not see. The good +horses were weakening fast. No flesh and blood could stand that +strain, and naught but the spirit of the breed kept them afoot. +Marcia's was limping painfully; the one Sergius rode was wavering in +its stride, like the Carthaginian captain when he came out of the +guard-house by the gate. + +"Gods! What were those shrill sounds--half whistle, half scream?" + +Too well he remembered how the Numidians urged on their bridleless +chargers. Yes, there they were now--scarce half a milestone behind and +coming up like the wind that blew through their dishevelled +manes--fifty at least. Death, then, was decreed, after all, and he +glanced toward Marcia, measuring the time when he might kiss her and +kill her ere he sold his own life to the javelins. + +Suddenly he heard her cry out. + +"Look!" she called, and, following her finger, he gazed eagerly ahead. + +A clump of horsemen, heavy armed with helmet and corselet, crowned the +knoll of rising ground over which the road led, and, above them, +fluttering in the breeze, he saw the square vexillum of the cavalry of +the legion. + +He was among them now, lifting Marcia from her horse and dimly +conscious of many words being spoken around. + +"See, lord, they have halted," said a voice. "Is it your will that we +pursue?" + +Then, as an answering voice replied in the negative, he kissed Marcia +and made her drink wine that some one brought. Barbarous cries that +she must not hear or understand came to his ears, and he knew that +their pursuers were wheeling in discomfited flight. The circle of +soldiers stood back. Something cold and feathery fell upon his +upturned face and turned to moisture. He saw a tall man with features +of wonderful beauty regarding them kindly and in silence; his white +paludamentum was heavily fringed with purple, and Sergius recognized +him now,--Marcus Marcellus, the new dictator. Another drop, feathery, +cold, and moist, fell upon Marcia's hand, and she roused herself at the +touch, peering up into her lover's face and then quickly at the heavens. + +"Look!" she cried. "Up! not into my eyes." + +He turned, for an instant, to see the blue vault of a few moments since +overcast with gray and filled with a swirl of snowy flakes. + +"See, now, Lucius, lord of my life; here are the messengers of winter. +Winter quarters! he is in winter quarters! See! have we not prevailed?" + +It was the voice of the dictator that answered:-- + +"Yes, truly; and there shall soon be prepared for him eternal summer +quarters in Phlegethon--if the Greek tales be true." + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LION'S BROOD*** + + +******* This file should be named 20219.txt or 20219.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/2/1/20219 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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