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diff --git a/26153-h/26153-h.htm b/26153-h/26153-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..18d8498 --- /dev/null +++ b/26153-h/26153-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6619 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Last of the Legions and Other Tales of Long Ago, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + h1, h2, h3, .bk4 {font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.5em;} + hr {width: 65%; margin: 2em auto; clear: both;} + .tb {width: 45%; visibility: hidden;} + table, .figcenter, .tb, .bk1 {margin: 1em auto;} + .td1 {text-align: left; padding-right: 6em; padding-left: 1em;} + .td2 {text-align: right;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; right: 1%; font-size: small; font-style: normal; text-align: right; text-indent: 0em;} + .center, .bk4, .bk5 p, h1, h2, h3 {text-align: center;} + .smcap, .bk5, .td1 {font-variant: small-caps;} + .figcenter {width: 413px;} + .trn {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15% 1em; padding: .25em 1em; text-align: justify;} + img {border: none;} + a:link, a:visited {text-decoration: none;} + ul {list-style-type: none;} + .bk1 {border-top: solid 2px; border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bk2 {margin: 0 auto; width: 25em;} + .p1 {padding-left: 4em; text-align: left; font-size: small; text-indent: -2em;} + .p2, h3, .hd1 {margin-top: 2em;} + .hd1, .bk5 {margin-bottom: 6em;} + ul, .bk4 {font-size: 90%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Last of the Legions and Other Tales of +Long Ago, by Arthur Conan Doyle + +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 Last of the Legions and Other Tales of Long Ago + +Author: Arthur Conan Doyle + +Release Date: July 31, 2008 [EBook #26153] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS *** + + + + +Produced by Chris Curnow, Joseph Cooper, Stephen Blundell +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/001.jpg" width="413" height="550" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h1>THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS<br /> +<i><small>and Other Tales of Long Ago</small></i></h1> + +<h2>A. CONAN DOYLE</h2> + +<hr /> + +<div class="bk2"><div class="bk1"><p class="center"><big>By SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE</big></p></div> + +<p class="p2"><i>Novels and Stories</i></p> + +<p class="p1">DANGER! <i>And Other Stories</i></p> + +<p class="p1">THE DOINGS OF RAFFLES HAW</p> + +<p class="p1">HIS LAST BOW<br /> +<i>Some Later Reminiscences of Sherlock Holmes</i></p> + +<p class="p1">THE BLACK DOCTOR<br /> +<i>And Other Tales of Terror and Mystery</i></p> + +<p class="p1">THE MAN FROM ARCHANGEL<br /> +<i>And Other Tales of Adventure</i></p> + +<p class="p1">THE CROXLEY MASTER<br /> +<i>And Other Tales of the Ring and Camp</i></p> + +<p class="p1">THE GREAT KEINPLATZ EXPERIMENT<br /> +<i>And Other Tales of Twilight and the Unseen</i></p> + +<p class="p1">THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS<br /> +<i>And Other Tales of Long Ago</i></p> + +<p class="p1">THE DEALINGS OF CAPTAIN SHARKEY<br /> +<i>And Other Tales of Pirates</i></p> + +<p class="p2"><i>On the Life Hereafter</i></p> + +<p class="p1">THE NEW REVELATION</p> + +<p class="p1">THE VITAL MESSAGE</p> + +<p class="p1">THE COMING OF THE FAIRIES</p> + +<p class="p1">THE CASE FOR SPIRIT PHOTOGRAPHY</p> + +<p class="p1">THE WANDERINGS OF A SPIRITUALIST</p> + +<p class="p1">OUR AMERICAN ADVENTURE</p> + +<p class="p2"><i>A History of the Great War</i></p> + +<p class="p1">THE BRITISH CAMPAIGN IN FRANCE +AND FLANDERS—Six Vols.</p> + +<p class="p2"><i>Poems</i></p> + +<p class="p1">THE GUARDS CAME THROUGH</p> + +<div class="bk1"><p class="center"><big>NEW YORK<br /> +GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY</big></p></div></div> + +<hr /> + +<h1>THE LAST<br /> +OF THE LEGIONS<br /> +<small><i>and Other Tales of Long Ago</i></small></h1> + +<h2 class="hd1"><small>BY</small><br /> +A. CONAN DOYLE</h2> + +<div class="center"><big>NEW <img src="images/002.png" width="50" height="51" alt="" title="" /> YORK<br /> +GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY</big></div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="bk5"> +<p>Copyright, 1905, 1908, 1909, 1910, 1911,<br /> +1913, 1914, 1918, 1919, 1922<br /> +By A. Conan Doyle</p> + +<p>Copyright, 1910,<br /> +By Charles Scribner's Sons</p> + +<p>Copyright, 1911,<br /> +By Associated Sunday Magazines, Inc.</p> + +<p>Copyright, 1908,<br /> +By The McClure Company</p> + +<p>Copyright, 1900, 1902,<br /> +By The S. S. McClure Company</p></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50px;"> +<img src="images/003.png" width="50" height="41" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="bk4">THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS AND OTHER TALES<br /> +OF LONG AGO<br /> +——Q——<br /> +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</div> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="3"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">I</td><td class="td1">The Last of the Legions</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">II</td><td class="td1">The Last Galley</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">III</td><td class="td1">Through the Veil</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">IV</td><td class="td1">The Coming of the Huns</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">V</td><td class="td1">The Contest</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">VI</td><td class="td1">The First Cargo</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">VII</td><td class="td1">An Iconoclast</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_98">98</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">VIII</td><td class="td1">Giant Maximin</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">IX</td><td class="td1">The Red Star</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_141">141</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">X</td><td class="td1">The Silver Mirror</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_158">158</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">XI</td><td class="td1">The Home-Coming</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_177">177</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">XII</td><td class="td1">A Point of Contact</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_202">202</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2">XIII</td><td class="td1">The Centurion</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_215">215</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr /> + +<h1>THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS</h1> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> + +<h1>THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS<br /> +<small><i>and Other Tales of Long Ago</i></small></h1> + +<h2 class="p2">I<br /> +THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pontus</span>, the Roman viceroy, sat in the atrium +of his palatial villa by the Thames, and he looked +with perplexity at the scroll of papyrus which +he had just unrolled. Before him stood the +messenger who had brought it, a swarthy little +Italian, whose black eyes were glazed with +want of sleep, and his olive features darker still +from dust and sweat. The viceroy was looking +fixedly at him, yet he saw him not, so full +was his mind of this sudden and most unexpected +order. To him it seemed as if the solid +earth had given way beneath his feet. His life +and the work of his life had come to irremediable +ruin.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Very good," he said at last in a hard dry +voice, "you can go."</p> + +<p>The man saluted and staggered out of the +hall. A yellow-haired British major-domo +came forward for orders.</p> + +<p>"Is the General there?"</p> + +<p>"He is waiting, your excellency."</p> + +<p>"Then show him in, and leave us together."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later Licinius Crassus, the +head of the British military establishment, had +joined his chief. He was a large, bearded man +in a white civilian toga, hemmed with the Patrician +purple. His rough, bold features, +burned and seamed and lined with the long +African wars, were shadowed with anxiety as +he looked with questioning eyes at the drawn, +haggard face of the viceroy.</p> + +<p>"I fear, your excellency, that you have had +bad news from Rome."</p> + +<p>"The worst, Crassus. It is all over with +Britain. It is a question whether even Gaul +will be held."</p> + +<p>"Saint Albus save us! Are the orders precise?"</p> + +<p>"Here they are, with the Emperor's own +seal."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But why? I had heard a rumour, but it +had seemed too incredible."</p> + +<p>"So had I only last week, and had the fellow +scourged for having spread it. But here it is +as clear as words can make it: 'Bring every +man of the Legions by forced marches to the +help of the Empire. Leave not a cohort in +Britain.' These are my orders."</p> + +<p>"But the cause?"</p> + +<p>"They will let the limbs wither so that the +heart be stronger. The old German hive is +about to swarm once more. There are fresh +crowds of Barbarians from Dacia and Scythia. +Every sword is needed to hold the Alpine +passes. They cannot let three legions lie idle +in Britain."</p> + +<p>The soldier shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"When the legions go no Roman would feel +that his life was safe here. For all that we +have done, it is none the less the truth that it is +no country of ours, and that we hold it as we +won it by the sword."</p> + +<p>"Yes, every man, woman, and child of Latin +blood must come with us to Gaul. The galleys +are already waiting at Portus Dubris. Get the +orders out, Crassus, at once. As the Valerian<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +legion falls back from the Wall of Hadrian it +can take the northern colonists with it. The +Jovians can bring in the people from the west, +and the Batavians can escort the easterns if +they will muster at Camboricum. You will see +to it." He sank his face for a moment in his +hands. "It is a fearsome thing," said he, "to +tear up the roots of so goodly a tree."</p> + +<p>"To make more space for such a crop of +weeds," said the soldier bitterly. "My God, +what will be the end of these poor Britons! +From ocean to ocean there is not a tribe which +will not be at the throat of its neighbour when +the last Roman Lictor has turned his back. +With these hot-headed Silures it is hard +enough now to keep the swords in their +sheaths."</p> + +<p>"The kennel might fight as they choose +among themselves until the best hound won," +said the Roman Governor. "At least the victor +would keep the arts and the religion which +we have brought them, and Britain would be +one land. No, it is the bear from the north +and the wolves from oversea, the painted savage +from beyond the walls and the Saxon pirate +from over the water, who will succeed to our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +rule. Where we saved, they will slay; where +we built, they will burn; where we planted, they +will ravage. But the die is cast, Crassus. You +will carry out the orders."</p> + +<p>"I will send out the messengers within an +hour. This very morning there has come news +that the Barbarians are through the old gap in +the wall, and their outriders as far south as +Vinovia."</p> + +<p>The Governor shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"These things concern us no longer," said +he. Then a bitter smile broke upon his aquiline +clean-shaven face. "Whom think you that +I see in audience this morning?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, I know not."</p> + +<p>"Caradoc and Regnus, and Celticus the Icenian, +who, like so many of the richer Britons, +have been educated at Rome, and who would +lay before me their plans as to the ruling of +this country."</p> + +<p>"And what is their plan?"</p> + +<p>"That they themselves should do it."</p> + +<p>The Roman soldier laughed. "Well, they +will have their will," said he, as he saluted and +turned upon his heel. "Farewell, your excellency.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +There are hard days coming for you +and for me."</p> + +<p>An hour later the British deputation was +ushered into the presence of the Governor. +They were good, steadfast men, men who with +a whole heart, and at some risk to themselves, +had taken up their country's cause, so far as +they could see it. At the same time they well +knew that under the mild and beneficent rule +of Rome it was only when they passed from +words to deeds that their backs or their necks +would be in danger. They stood now, earnest +and a little abashed, before the throne of the +viceroy. Celticus was a swarthy, black-bearded +little Iberian. Caradoc and Regnus were tall +middle-aged men of the fair flaxen British +type. All three were dressed in the draped +yellow toga after the Latin fashion, instead of +in the bracæ and tunic which distinguished +their more insular fellow-countrymen.</p> + +<p>"Well?" asked the Governor.</p> + +<p>"We are here," said Celticus boldly, "as the +spokesmen of a great number of our fellow-countrymen, +for the purpose of sending our +petition through you to the Emperor and to the +Roman Senate, that we may urge upon them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +the policy of allowing us to govern this country +after our own ancient fashion." He +paused, as if awaiting some outburst as an answer +to his own temerity; but the Governor +merely nodded his head as a sign that he should +proceed. "We had laws of our own before ever +Cæsar set foot in Britain, which have served +their purpose since first our forefathers came +from the land of Ham. We are not a child +among the nations, but our history goes back +in our own traditions further even than that of +Rome, and we are galled by this yoke which +you have laid upon us."</p> + +<p>"Are not our laws just?" asked the Governor.</p> + +<p>"The code of Cæsar is just, but it is always +the code of Cæsar. Our own laws were made +for our own uses and our own circumstances, +and we would fain have them again."</p> + +<p>"You speak Roman as if you had been bred +in the Forum; you wear a Roman toga; your +hair is filleted in Roman fashion—are not these +the gifts of Rome?"</p> + +<p>"We would take all the learning and all the +arts that Rome or Greece could give, but we +would still be Britain, and ruled by Britons."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> + +<p>The viceroy smiled. "By the rood of Saint +Helena," said he, "had you spoken thus to some +of my heathen ancestors, there would have +been an end to your politics. That you have +dared to stand before my face and say as much +is a proof for ever of the gentleness of our +rule. But I would reason with you for a moment +upon this your request. You know well +that this land has never been one kingdom, but +was always under many chiefs and many tribes, +who have made war upon each other. Would +you in very truth have it so again?"</p> + +<p>"Those were in the evil pagan days, the days +of the Druid and the oak-grove, your excellency. +But now we are held together by a gospel +of peace."</p> + +<p>The viceroy shook his head. "If all the +world were of the same way of thinking, then +it would be easier," said he. "It may be that +this blessed doctrine of peace will be little help +to you when you are face to face with strong +men who still worship the god of war. What +would you do against the Picts of the north?"</p> + +<p>"Your excellency knows that many of the +bravest legionaries are of British blood. These +are our defence."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But discipline, man, the power to command, +the knowledge of war, the strength to act—it is +in these things that you would fail. Too long +have you leaned upon the crutch."</p> + +<p>"The times may be hard, but when we have +gone through them, Britain will be herself +again."</p> + +<p>"Nay, she will be under a different and a +harsher master," said the Roman. "Already +the pirates swarm upon the eastern coast. +Were it not for our Roman Count of the Saxon +shore they would land to-morrow. I see the +day when Britain may, indeed, be one; but that +will be because you and your fellows are either +dead or are driven into the mountains of the +west. All goes into the melting pot, and if a +better Albion should come forth from it, it will +be after ages of strife, and neither you nor +your people will have part or lot in it."</p> + +<p>Regnus, the tall young Celt, smiled. "With +the help of God and our own right arms we +should hope for a better end," said he. "Give +us but the chance, and we will bear the brunt."</p> + +<p>"You are as men that are lost," said the +viceroy sadly. "I see this broad land, with its +gardens and orchards, its fair villas and its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +walled towns, its bridges and its roads, all the +work of Rome. Surely it will pass even as a +dream, and these three hundred years of settled +order will leave no trace behind. For learn +that it will indeed be as you wish, and that this +very day the orders have come to me that the +legions are to go."</p> + +<p>The three Britons looked at each other in +amazement. Their first impulse was towards a +wild exultation, but reflection and doubt followed +close upon its heels.</p> + +<p>"This is indeed wondrous news," said Celticus. +"This is a day of days to the motherland. +When do the legions go, your excellency, and +what troops will remain behind for our protection?"</p> + +<p>"The legions go at once," said the viceroy. +"You will doubtless rejoice to hear that within +a month there will be no Roman soldier in the +island, nor, indeed, a Roman of any sort, age, +or sex, if I can take them with me."</p> + +<p>The faces of the Britons were shadowed, and +Caradoc, a grave and thoughtful man, spoke +for the first time.</p> + +<p>"But this is over sudden, your excellency," +said he. "There is much truth in what you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +have said about the pirates. From my villa +near the fort of Anderida I saw eighty of their +galleys only last week, and I know well that +they would be on us like ravens on a dying ox. +For many years to come it would not be possible +for us to hold them off."</p> + +<p>The viceroy shrugged his shoulders. "It is +your affair now," said he. "Rome must look to +herself."</p> + +<p>The last traces of joy had passed from the +faces of the Britons. Suddenly the future had +started up clearly before them, and they quailed +at the prospect.</p> + +<p>"There is a rumour in the market-place," +said Celticus, "that the northern Barbarians +are through the gap in the wall. Who is to +stop their progress?"</p> + +<p>"You and your fellows," said the Roman.</p> + +<p>Clearer still grew the future, and there was +terror in the eyes of the spokesmen as they +faced it.</p> + +<p>"But, your excellency, if the legions should +go at once, we should have the wild Scots at +York, and the Northmen in the Thames within +the month. We can build ourselves up under +your shield, and in a few years it would be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +easier for us; but not now, your excellency, not +now."</p> + +<p>"Tut, man; for years you have been clamouring +in our ears and raising the people. Now +you have got what you asked. What more +would you have? Within the month you will +be as free as were your ancestors before Cæsar +set foot upon your shore."</p> + +<p>"For God's sake, your excellency, put our +words out of your head. The matter had not +been well considered. We will send to Rome. +We will ride post-haste ourselves. We will fall +at the Emperor's feet. We will kneel before +the Senate and beg that the legions remain."</p> + +<p>The Roman proconsul rose from his chair +and motioned that the audience was at an end.</p> + +<p>"You will do what you please," said he. "I +and my men are for Italy."</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>And even as he said, so was it, for before the +spring had ripened into summer, the troops +were clanking down the via Aurelia on their +way to the Ligurian passes, whilst every road +in Gaul was dotted with the carts and the waggons +which bore the Brito-Roman refugees on +their weary journey to their distant country.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +But ere another summer had passed Celticus +was dead, for he was flayed alive by the pirates +and his skin nailed upon the door of a church +near Caistor. Regnus, too, was dead, for he +was tied to a tree and shot with arrows when +the painted men came to the sacking of Isca. +Caradoc only was alive, but he was a slave to +Elda the red Caledonian and his wife was mistress +to Mordred the wild chief of the western +Cymri. From the ruined wall in the north to +Vectis in the south blood and ruin and ashes +covered the fair land of Britain. And after +many days it came out fairer than ever, but, +even as the Roman had said, neither the Britons +nor any men of their blood came into the +heritage of that which had been their own.</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> +<h2>II<br /> +THE LAST GALLEY</h2> + +<div class="bk4">"Mutato nomine, de te, Britannia, fabula narratur."</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was a spring morning, one hundred and +forty-six years before the coming of Christ. +The North African coast, with its broad hem +of golden sand, its green belt of feathery palm +trees, and its background of barren, red-scarped +hills, shimmered like a dream country +in the opal light. Save for a narrow edge of +snow-white surf, the Mediterranean lay blue +and serene as far as the eye could reach. In +all its vast expanse there was no break but for +a single galley, which was slowly making its +way from the direction of Sicily and heading +for the distant harbour of Carthage.</p> + +<p>Seen from afar it was a stately and beautiful +vessel, deep red in colour, double-banked with +scarlet oars, its broad, flapping sail stained +with Tyrian purple, its bulwarks gleaming with +brass work. A brazen, three-pronged ram<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +projected in front, and a high golden figure of +Baal, the God of the Phœnicians, children of +Canaan, shone upon the after-deck. From the +single high mast above the huge sail streamed +the tiger-striped flag of Carthage. So, like +some stately scarlet bird, with golden beak and +wings of purple, she swam upon the face of +the waters—a thing of might and of beauty as +seen from the distant shore.</p> + +<p>But approach and look at her now! What +are these dark streaks which foul her white +decks and dapple her brazen shields? Why +do the long red oars move out of time, irregular, +convulsive? Why are some missing from +the staring portholes, some snapped with +jagged, yellow edges, some trailing inert +against the sides? Why are two prongs of the +brazen ram twisted and broken? See, even the +high image of Baal is battered and disfigured! +By every sign this ship has passed through +some grievous trial, some day of terror, which +has left its heavy marks upon her.</p> + +<p>And now stand upon the deck itself, and see +more closely the men who man her! There +are two decks forward and aft, while in the +open waist are the double banks of seats, above<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +and below, where the rowers, two to an oar, +tug and bend at their endless task. Down the +centre is a narrow platform, along which pace +a line of warders, lash in hand, who cut cruelly +at the slave who pauses, be it only for an instant, +to sweep the sweat from his dripping +brow. But these slaves—look at them! +Some are captured Romans, some Sicilians, +many black Libyans, but all are in the last exhaustion, +their weary eyelids drooped over their +eyes, their lips thick with black crusts, and pink +with bloody froth, their arms and backs moving +mechanically to the hoarse chant of the +overseer. Their bodies of all tints from ivory +to jet, are stripped to the waist, and every glistening +back shows the angry stripes of the +warders. But it is not from these that the +blood comes which reddens the seats and tints +the salt water washing beneath their manacled +feet. Great gaping wounds, the marks of +sword slash and spear stab, show crimson upon +their naked chests and shoulders, while many +lie huddled and senseless athwart the benches, +careless for ever of the whips which still hiss +above them. Now we can understand those +empty portholes and those trailing oars.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p> + +<p>Nor were the crew in better case than their +slaves. The decks were littered with wounded +and dying men. It was but a remnant who still +remained upon their feet. The most lay exhausted +upon the fore-deck, while a few of the +more zealous were mending their shattered +armour, restringing their bows, or cleaning the +deck from the marks of combat. Upon a raised +platform at the base of the mast stood the +sailing-master who conned the ship, his eyes +fixed upon the distant point of Megara which +screened the eastern side of the Bay of Carthage. +On the after-deck were gathered a number +of officers, silent and brooding, glancing +from time to time at two of their own class +who stood apart deep in conversation. The +one, tall, dark, and wiry, with pure, Semitic +features, and the limbs of a giant, was Magro, +the famous Carthaginian captain, whose name +was still a terror on every shore, from Gaul to +the Euxine. The other, a white-bearded, +swarthy man, with indomitable courage and +energy stamped upon every eager line of his +keen, aquiline face, was Gisco the politician, a +man of the highest Punic blood, a Suffete of +the purple robe, and the leader of that party in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +the state which had watched and striven amid +the selfishness and slothfulness of his fellow-countrymen +to rouse the public spirit and +waken the public conscience to the ever-increasing +danger from Rome. As they talked, +the two men glanced continually, with earnest +anxious faces, towards the northern skyline.</p> + +<p>"It is certain," said the older man, with +gloom in his voice and bearing, "none have escaped +save ourselves."</p> + +<p>"I did not leave the press of the battle whilst +I saw one ship which I could succour," Magro +answered. "As it was, we came away, as you +saw, like a wolf which has a hound hanging on +to either haunch. The Roman dogs can show +the wolf-bites which prove it. Had any other +galley won clear, they would surely be with us +by now, since they have no place of safety save +Carthage."</p> + +<p>The younger warrior glanced keenly ahead +to the distant point which marked his native +city. Already the low, leafy hill could be seen, +dotted with the white villas of the wealthy +Phœnician merchants. Above them, a gleaming +dot against the pale blue morning sky,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +shone the brazen roof of the citadel of Byrsa, +which capped the sloping town.</p> + +<p>"Already they can see us from the watch-towers," +he remarked. "Even from afar they +may know the galley of Black Magro. But +which of all of them will guess that we alone +remain of all that goodly fleet which sailed out +with blare of trumpet and roll of drum but one +short month ago?"</p> + +<p>The patrician smiled bitterly. "If it were +not for our great ancestors and for our beloved +country, the Queen of the Waters," said he, "I +could find it in my heart to be glad at this destruction +which has come upon this vain and +feeble generation. You have spent your life +upon the seas, Magro. You do not know how +it has been with us on the land. But I have seen +this canker grow upon us which now leads us +to our death. I and others have gone down +into the market-place to plead with the people, +and been pelted with mud for our pains. Many +a time have I pointed to Rome, and said, 'Behold +these people, who bear arms themselves, +each man for his own duty and pride. How +can you who hide behind mercenaries hope to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +stand against them?'—a hundred times I have +said it."</p> + +<p>"And had they no answer?" asked the +Rover.</p> + +<p>"Rome was far off and they could not see it, +so to them it was nothing," the old man answered. +"Some thought of trade, and some of +votes, and some of profits from the State, but +none would see that the State itself, the mother +of all things, was sinking to her end. So might +the bees debate who should have wax or honey +when the torch was blazing which would bring +to ashes the hive and all therein. 'Are we not +rulers of the sea?' 'Was not Hannibal a great +man?' Such were their cries, living ever in the +past and blind to the future. Before that sun +sets there will be tearing of hair and rending +of garments; but what will that now avail us?"</p> + +<p>"It is some sad comfort," said Magro, "to +know that what Rome holds she cannot keep."</p> + +<p>"Why say you that? When we go down, she +is supreme in all the world."</p> + +<p>"For a time, and only for a time," Magro +answered gravely. "Yet you will smile, perchance, +when I tell you how it is that I know it. +There was a wise woman who lived in that part<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +of the Tin Islands which juts forth into the +sea, and from her lips I have heard many +things, but not one which has not come aright. +Of the fall of our own country, and even of +this battle, from which we now return, she told +me clearly. There is much strange lore +amongst these savage peoples in the west of +the land of Tin."</p> + +<p>"What said she of Rome?"</p> + +<p>"That she also would fall, even as we, weakened +by her riches and her factions."</p> + +<p>Gisco rubbed his hands. "That at least +makes our own fall less bitter," said he. "But +since we have fallen, and Rome will fall, who +in turn may hope to be Queen of the Waters?"</p> + +<p>"That also I asked her," said Magro, "and +gave her my Tyrian belt with the golden buckle +as a guerdon for her answer. But, indeed, it +was too high payment for the tale she told, +which must be false if all else she said was true. +She would have it that in coming days it was +her own land, this fog-girt isle where painted +savages can scarce row a wicker coracle from +point to point, which shall at last take the trident +which Carthage and Rome have dropped."</p> + +<p>The smile which flickered upon the old Patrician's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +keen features died away suddenly, and +his fingers closed upon his companion's wrist. +The other had set rigid, his head advanced, his +hawk eyes upon the northern skyline. Its +straight, blue horizon was broken by two low +black dots.</p> + +<p>"Galleys!" whispered Gisco.</p> + +<p>The whole crew had seen them. They clustered +along the starboard bulwarks, pointing +and chattering. For a moment the gloom of +defeat was lifted, and a buzz of joy ran from +group to group at the thought that they were +not alone—that some one had escaped the great +carnage as well as themselves.</p> + +<p>"By the spirit of Baal," said Black Magro, +"I could not have believed that any could have +fought clear from such a welter. Could it be +young Hamilcar in the <i>Africa</i>, or is it Beneva +in the Blue Syrian ship? We three with +others may form a squadron and make head +against them yet. If we hold our course, they +will join us ere we round the harbour mole."</p> + +<p>Slowly the injured galley toiled on her way, +and more swiftly the two new-comers swept +down from the north. Only a few miles off lay +the green point and the white houses which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +flanked the great African city. Already, upon +the headland, could be seen a dark group of +waiting townsmen. Gisco and Magro were +still watching with puckered gaze the approaching +galleys, when the brown Libyan boatswain, +with flashing teeth and gleaming eyes, rushed +upon the poop, his long thin arm stabbing to the +north.</p> + +<p>"Romans!" he cried. "Romans!"</p> + +<p>A hush had fallen over the great vessel. Only +the wash of the water and the measured rattle +and beat of the oars broke in upon the silence.</p> + +<p>"By the horns of God's altar, I believe the +fellow is right!" cried old Gisco. "See how +they swoop upon us like falcons. They are full-manned +and full-oared."</p> + +<p>"Plain wood, unpainted," said Magro. "See +how it gleams yellow where the sun strikes it."</p> + +<p>"And yonder thing beneath the mast. Is it +not the cursed bridge they use for boarding?"</p> + +<p>"So they grudge us even one," said Magro +with a bitter laugh. "Not even one galley shall +return to the old sea-mother. Well, for my +part, I would as soon have it so. I am of a +mind to stop the oars and await them."</p> + +<p>"It is a man's thought," answered old Gisco;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +"but the city will need us in the days to come. +What shall it profit us to make the Roman victory +complete? Nay, Magro, let the slaves row +as they never rowed before, not for our own +safety, but for the profit of the State."</p> + +<p>So the great red ship laboured and lurched +onwards, like a weary panting stag which seeks +shelter from his pursuers, while ever swifter +and ever nearer sped the two lean fierce galleys +from the north. Already the morning sun +shone upon the lines of low Roman helmets +above the bulwarks, and glistened on the silver +wave where each sharp prow shot through +the still blue water. Every moment the ships +drew nearer, and the long thin scream of the +Roman trumpets grew louder upon the ear.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Upon the high bluff of Megara there stood a +great concourse of the people of Carthage who +had hurried forth from the city upon the news +that the galleys were in sight. They stood now, +rich and poor, effete and plebeian, white Phœnician +and dark Kabyle, gazing with breathless +interest at the spectacle before them. Some +hundreds of feet beneath them the Punic galley +had drawn so close that with their naked eyes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +they could see those stains of battle which told +their dismal tale. The Romans, too, were heading +in such a way that it was before their very +faces that their ship was about to be cut off; +and yet of all this multitude not one could raise +a hand in its defence. Some wept in impotent +grief, some cursed with flashing eyes and +knotted fists, some on their knees held up appealing +hands to Baal; but neither prayer, +tears, nor curses could undo the past nor mend +the present. That broken, crawling galley +meant that their fleet was gone. Those two +fierce darting ships meant that the hands of +Rome were already at their throat. Behind +them would come others and others, the innumerable +trained hosts of the great Republic, long +mistress of the land, now dominant also upon +the waters. In a month, two months, three at +the most, their armies would be there, and what +could all the untrained multitudes of Carthage +do to stop them?</p> + +<p>"Nay!" cried one, more hopeful than the +rest, "at least we are brave men with arms in +our hands."</p> + +<p>"Fool!" said another, "is it not such talk +which has brought us to our ruin? What is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +the brave man untrained to the brave man +trained? When you stand before the sweep +and rush of a Roman legion you may learn the +difference."</p> + +<p>"Then let us train!"</p> + +<p>"Too late! A full year is needful to turn a +man to a soldier. Where will you—where will +your city be within the year? Nay, there is +but one chance for us. If we give up our commerce +and our colonies, if we strip ourselves of +all that made us great, then perchance the +Roman conqueror may hold his hand."</p> + +<p>And already the last sea-fight of Carthage +was coming swiftly to an end before them. +Under their very eyes the two Roman galleys +had shot in, one on either side of the vessel of +Black Magro. They had grappled with him, +and he, desperate in his despair, had cast the +crooked flukes of his anchors over their gunwales, +and bound them to him in an iron grip, +whilst with hammer and crowbar he burst +great holes in his own sheathing. The last +Punic galley should never be rowed into Ostia, +a sight for the holiday-makers of Rome. She +would lie in her own waters. And the fierce, +dark soul of her rover captain glowed as he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +thought that not alone should she sink into the +depths of the mother sea.</p> + +<p>Too late did the Romans understand the man +with whom they had to deal. Their boarders +who had flooded the Punic decks felt the planking +sink and sway beneath them. They rushed +to gain their own vessels; but they, too, were +being drawn downwards, held in the dying grip +of the great red galley. Over they went and +ever over. Now the deck of Magro's ship is +flush with the water, and the Romans', drawn +towards it by the iron bonds which hold them, +are tilted downwards, one bulwark upon the +waves, one reared high in the air. Madly they +strain to cast off the death-grip of the galley. +She is under the surface now, and ever swifter, +with the greater weight, the Roman ships heel +after her. There is a rending crash. The +wooden side is torn out of one, and mutilated, +dismembered, she rights herself, and lies a +helpless thing upon the water. But a last yellow +gleam in the blue water shows where her +consort has been dragged to her end in the iron +death-grapple of her foeman. The tiger-striped +flag of Carthage has sunk beneath the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +swirling surface, never more to be seen upon +the face of the sea.</p> + +<p>For in that year a great cloud hung for +seventeen days over the African coast, a deep +black cloud which was the dark shroud of the +burning city. And when the seventeen days +were over, Roman ploughs were driven from +end to end of the charred ashes, and salt was +scattered there as a sign that Carthage should +be no more. And far off a huddle of naked, +starving folk stood upon the distant mountains, +and looked down upon the desolate plain which +had once been the fairest and richest upon +earth. And they understood too late that it is +the law of heaven that the world is given to the +hardy and to the self-denying, whilst he who +would escape the duties of manhood will soon +be stripped of the pride, the wealth, and the +power, which are the prizes which manhood +brings.</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p> +<h2>III<br /> +THROUGH THE VEIL</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">He</span> was a great shock-headed, freckle-faced +Borderer, the lineal descendant of a cattle-thieving +clan in Liddesdale. In spite of his ancestry +he was as solid and sober a citizen as one +would wish to see, a town councillor of Melrose, +an elder of the Church, and the chairman +of the local branch of the Young Men's Christian +Association. Brown was his name—and +you saw it printed up as "Brown and Handiside" +over the great grocery stores in the High +Street. His wife, Maggie Brown, was an +Armstrong before her marriage, and came +from an old farming stock in the wilds of +Teviothead. She was small, swarthy, and +dark-eyed, with a strangely nervous temperament +for a Scotch woman. No greater contrast +could be found than the big tawny man +and the dark little woman, but both were of the +soil as far back as any memory could extend.</p> + +<p>One day—it was the first anniversary of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +their wedding—they had driven over together +to see the excavations of the Roman Fort at +Newstead. It was not a particularly picturesque +spot. From the northern bank of the +Tweed, just where the river forms a loop, there +extends a gentle slope of arable land. Across +it run the trenches of the excavators, with here +and there an exposure of old stonework to show +the foundations of the ancient walls. It had +been a huge place, for the camp was fifty acres +in extent, and the fort fifteen. However, it +was all made easy for them since Mr. Brown +knew the farmer to whom the land belonged. +Under his guidance they spent a long summer +evening inspecting the trenches, the pits, the +ramparts, and all the strange variety of objects +which were waiting to be transported to the +Edinburgh Museum of Antiquities. The buckle +of a woman's belt had been dug up that very +day, and the farmer was discoursing upon it +when his eyes fell upon Mrs. Brown's face.</p> + +<p>"Your good leddy's tired," said he. "Maybe +you'd best rest a wee before we gang further."</p> + +<p>Brown looked at his wife. She was certainly +very pale, and her dark eyes were bright and +wild.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What is it, Maggie? I've wearied you. +I'm thinkin' it's time we went back."</p> + +<p>"No, no, John, let us go on. It's wonderful! +It's like a dreamland place. It all seems +so close and so near to me. How long were the +Romans here, Mr. Cunningham?"</p> + +<p>"A fair time, mam. If you saw the kitchen +midden-pits you would guess it took a long time +to fill them."</p> + +<p>"And why did they leave?"</p> + +<p>"Well, mam, by all accounts they left because +they had to. The folk round could thole them +no longer, so they just up and burned the fort +aboot their lugs. You can see the fire marks on +the stanes."</p> + +<p>The woman gave a quick little shudder. "A +wild night—a fearsome night," said she. "The +sky must have been red that night—and these +grey stones, they may have been red also."</p> + +<p>"Aye, I think they were red," said her husband. +"It's a queer thing, Maggie, and it may +be your words that have done it; but I seem to +see that business aboot as clear as ever I saw +anything in my life. The light shone on the +water."</p> + +<p>"Aye, the light shone on the water. And the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +smoke gripped you by the throat. And all the +savages were yelling."</p> + +<p>The old farmer began to laugh. "The leddy +will be writin' a story aboot the old fort," said +he. "I've shown many a one ower it, but I +never heard it put so clear afore. Some folk +have the gift."</p> + +<p>They had strolled along the edge of the foss, +and a pit yawned upon the right of them.</p> + +<p>"That pit was fourteen foot deep," said the +farmer. "What d'ye think we dug oot from +the bottom o't? Weel, it was just the skeleton +of a man wi' a spear by his side. I'm thinkin' +he was grippin' it when he died. Now, how +cam' a man wi' a spear doon a hole fourteen +foot deep. He wasna' buried there, for they +aye burned their dead. What make ye o' that, +mam?"</p> + +<p>"He sprang doon to get clear of the savages," +said the woman.</p> + +<p>"Weel, it's likely enough, and a' the professors +from Edinburgh couldna' gie a better +reason. I wish you were aye here, mam, to answer +a' oor deeficulties sae readily. Now, +here's the altar that we foond last week. +There's an inscreeption. They tell me it's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +Latin, and it means that the men o' this fort +give thanks to God for their safety."</p> + +<p>They examined the old worn stone. There +was a large deeply-cut "VV" upon the top of it.</p> + +<p>"What does 'VV' stand for?" asked Brown.</p> + +<p>"Naebody kens," the guide answered.</p> + +<p>"<i>Valeria Victrix</i>," said the lady softly. Her +face was paler than ever, her eyes far away, as +one who peers down the dim aisles of overarching +centuries.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" asked her husband sharply.</p> + +<p>She started as one who wakes from sleep. +"What were we talking about?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"About this 'VV' upon the stone."</p> + +<p>"No doubt it was just the name of the Legion +which put the altar up."</p> + +<p>"Aye, but you gave some special name."</p> + +<p>"Did I? How absurd! How should I ken +what the name was?"</p> + +<p>"You said something—'<i>Victrix</i>,' I think."</p> + +<p>"I suppose I was guessing. It gives me the +queerest feeling, this place, as if I were not +myself, but some one else."</p> + +<p>"Aye, it's an uncanny place," said her husband, +looking round with an expression almost +of fear in his bold grey eyes. "I feel it mysel'.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +I think we'll just be wishin' you good evenin', +Mr. Cunningham, and get back to Melrose before +the dark sets in."</p> + +<p>Neither of them could shake off the strange +impression which had been left upon them by +their visit to the excavations. It was as if some +miasma had risen from those damp trenches +and passed into their blood. All the evening +they were silent and thoughtful, but such remarks +as they did make showed that the same +subject was in the mind of each. Brown had +a restless night, in which he dreamed a strange +connected dream, so vivid that he woke sweating +and shivering like a frightened horse. He +tried to convey it all to his wife as they sat together +at breakfast in the morning.</p> + +<p>"It was the clearest thing, Maggie," said he. +"Nothing that has ever come to me in my +waking life has been more clear than that. I +feel as if these hands were sticky with blood."</p> + +<p>"Tell me of it—tell me slow," said she.</p> + +<p>"When it began, I was oot on a braeside. I +was laying flat on the ground. It was rough, +and there were clumps of heather. All round +me was just darkness, but I could hear the +rustle and the breathin' of men. There seemed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +a great multitude on every side of me, but I +could see no one. There was a low chink of +steel sometimes, and then a number of voices +would whisper 'Hush!' I had a ragged club in +my hand, and it had spikes o' iron near the end +of it. My heart was beatin' quickly, and I felt +that a moment of great danger and excitement +was at hand. Once I dropped my club, and +again from all round me the voices in the darkness +cried, 'Hush!' I put oot my hand, and +it touched the foot of another man lying in +front of me. There was some one at my very +elbow on either side. But they said nothin'.</p> + +<p>"Then we all began to move. The whole +braeside seemed to be crawlin' downwards. +There was a river at the bottom and a high-arched +wooden bridge. Beyond the bridge +were many lights—torches on a wall. The +creepin' men all flowed towards the bridge. +There had been no sound of any kind, just a +velvet stillness. And then there was a cry in +the darkness, the cry of a man who had been +stabbed suddenly to the hairt. That one cry +swelled out for a moment, and then the roar of +a thoosand furious voices. I was runnin'. +Every one was runnin'. A bright red light<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +shone out, and the river was a scarlet streak. +I could see my companions now. They were +more like devils than men, wild figures clad in +skins, with their hair and beards streamin'. +They were all mad with rage, jumpin' as they +ran, their mouths open, their arms wavin', the +red light beatin' on their faces. I ran, too, and +yelled out curses like the rest. Then I heard a +great cracklin' of wood, and I knew that the +palisades were doon. There was a loud +whistlin' in my ears, and I was aware that arrows +were flyin' past me. I got to the bottom +of a dyke, and I saw a hand stretched doon +from above. I took it, and was dragged to the +top. We looked doon, and there were silver +men beneath us holdin' up their spears. Some +of our folk sprang on to the spears. Then we +others followed, and we killed the soldiers before +they could draw the spears oot again. +They shouted loud in some foreign tongue, but +no mercy was shown them. We went ower +them like a wave, and trampled them doon into +the mud, for they were few, and there was no +end to our numbers.</p> + +<p>"I found myself among buildings, and one of +them was on fire. I saw the flames spoutin'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +through the roof. I ran on, and then I was +alone among the buildings. Some one ran +across in front o' me. It was a woman. I +caught her by the arm, and I took her chin and +turned her face so as the light of the fire would +strike it. Whom think you that it was, +Maggie?"</p> + +<p>His wife moistened her dry lips. "It was I," +she said.</p> + +<p>He looked at her in surprise. "That's a +good guess," said he. "Yes, it was just you. +Not merely like you, you understand. It was +you—you yourself. I saw the same soul in +your frightened eyes. You looked white and +bonnie and wonderful in the firelight. I had +just one thought in my head—to get you awa' +with me; to keep you all to mysel' in my own +home somewhere beyond the hills. You clawed +at my face with your nails. I heaved you over +my shoulder, and I tried to find a way oot of +the light of the burning hoose and back into the +darkness.</p> + +<p>"Then came the thing that I mind best of +all. You're ill, Maggie. Shall I stop? My +God! you have the very look on your face that +you had last night in my dream. You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +screamed. He came runnin' in the firelight. +His head was bare; his hair was black and +curled; he had a naked sword in his hand, short +and broad, little more than a dagger. He +stabbed at me, but he tripped and fell. I held +you with one hand, and with the other——"</p> + +<p>His wife had sprung to her feet with writhing +features.</p> + +<p>"Marcus!" she cried. "My beautiful Marcus! +Oh, you brute! you brute! you brute!" +There was a clatter of tea-cups as she fell forward +senseless upon the table.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>They never talk about that strange isolated +incident in their married life. For an instant +the curtain of the past had swung aside, and +some strange glimpse of a forgotten life had +come to them. But it closed down, never to +open again. They live their narrow round—he +in his shop, she in her household—and yet +new and wider horizons have vaguely formed +themselves around them since that summer evening +by the crumbling Roman fort.</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> +<h2>IV<br /> +THE COMING OF THE HUNS</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the middle of the fourth century the state +of the Christian religion was a scandal and a +disgrace. Patient, humble, and long-suffering +in adversity, it had become positive, aggressive, +and unreasonable with success. Paganism +was not yet dead, but it was rapidly sinking, +finding its most faithful supporters +among the conservative aristocrats of the best +families on the one hand, and among those benighted +villagers on the other who gave their +name to the expiring creed. Between these two +extremes the great majority of reasonable men +had turned from the conception of many gods +to that of one, and had rejected for ever the +beliefs of their forefathers. But with the vices +of polytheism, they had also abandoned its virtues, +among which toleration and religious +good humour had been conspicuous. The +strenuous earnestness of the Christians had +compelled them to examine and define every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +point of their own theology; but as they had +no central authority by which such definitions +could be checked, it was not long before a hundred +heresies had put forward their rival +views, while the same earnestness of conviction +led the stronger bands of schismatics to +endeavour, for conscience sake, to force their +views upon the weaker, and thus to cover the +Eastern world with confusion and strife.</p> + +<p>Alexandria, Antioch, and Constantinople +were centres of theological warfare. The +whole north of Africa, too, was rent by the +strife of the Donatists, who upheld their particular +schism by iron flails and the war-cry of +"Praise to the Lord!" But minor local controversies +sank to nothing when compared with +the huge argument of the Catholic and the +Arian, which rent every village in twain, and +divided every household from the cottage to +the palace. The rival doctrines of the Homoousian +and of the Homoiousian, containing +metaphysical differences so attenuated that +they could hardly be stated, turned bishop +against bishop and congregation against congregation. +The ink of the theologians and the +blood of the fanatics were spilled in floods on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +either side, and gentle followers of Christ were +horrified to find that their faith was responsible +for such a state of riot and bloodshed as had +never yet disgraced the religious history of the +world. Many of the more earnest among +them, shocked and scandalised, slipped away +to the Libyan Desert, or to the solitude of +Pontus, there to await in self-denial and prayer +that second coming which was supposed to be +at hand. Even in the deserts they could not +escape the echo of the distant strife, and the +hermits themselves scowled fiercely from their +dens at passing travellers who might be contaminated +by the doctrines of Athanasius or of +Arius.</p> + +<p>Such a hermit was Simon Melas, of whom I +write. A Trinitarian and a Catholic, he was +shocked by the excesses of the persecution of +the Arians, which could be only matched by +the similar outrages with which these same +Arians in the day of their power avenged their +treatment on their brother Christians. Weary +of the whole strife, and convinced that the end +of the world was indeed at hand, he left his +home in Constantinople and travelled as far as +the Gothic settlements in Dacia, beyond the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +Danube, in search of some spot where he might +be free from the never-ending disputes. Still +journeying to the north and east, he crossed +the river which we now call the Dniester, and +there, finding a rocky hill rising from an immense +plain, he formed a cell near its summit, +and settled himself down to end his life in self-denial +and meditation. There were fish in the +stream, the country teemed with game, and +there was an abundance of wild fruits, so that +his spiritual exercises were not unduly interrupted +by the search of sustenance for his mortal +frame.</p> + +<p>In this distant retreat he expected to find +absolute solitude, but the hope was in vain. +Within a week of his arrival, in an hour of +worldly curiosity, he explored the edges of the +high rocky hill upon which he lived. Making +his way up to a cleft, which was hung with +olives and myrtles, he came upon a cave in the +opening of which sat an aged man, white-bearded, +white-haired, and infirm—a hermit +like himself. So long had this stranger been +alone that he had almost forgotten the use of +his tongue; but at last, words coming more +freely, he was able to convey the information<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +that his name was Paul of Nicopolis, that he +was a Greek citizen, and that he also had come +out into the desert for the saving of his soul, +and to escape from the contamination of +heresy.</p> + +<p>"Little I thought, brother Simon," said he, +"that I should ever find any one else who had +come so far upon the same holy errand. In all +these years, and they are so many that I have +lost count of them, I have never seen a man, +save indeed one or two wandering shepherds +far out upon yonder plain."</p> + +<p>From where they sat, the huge steppe, +covered with waving grass and gleaming with +a vivid green in the sun, stretched away as +level and as unbroken as the sea, to the eastern +horizon. Simon Melas stared across it with +curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, brother Paul," said he, "you who +have lived here so long—what lies at the further +side of that plain?"</p> + +<p>The old man shook his head. "There is no +further side to the plain," said he. "It is the +earth's boundary, and stretches away to eternity. +For all these years I have sat beside it, +but never once have I seen anything come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +across it. It is manifest that if there had been +a further side there would certainly at some +time have come some traveller from that direction. +Over the great river yonder is the +Roman post of Tyras; but that is a long day's +journey from here, and they have never disturbed +my meditations."</p> + +<p>"On what do you meditate, brother Paul?"</p> + +<p>"At first I meditated on many sacred mysteries; +but now, for twenty years, I have +brooded continually on the nature of the Logos. +What is your view upon that vital matter, +brother Simon?"</p> + +<p>"Surely," said the younger man, "there can +be no question as to that. The Logos is assuredly +but a name used by St. John to signify +the Deity."</p> + +<p>The old hermit gave a hoarse cry of fury, +and his brown, withered face was convulsed +with anger. Seizing the huge cudgel which he +kept to beat off the wolves, he shook it murderously +at his companion.</p> + +<p>"Out with you! Out of my cell!" he cried. +"Have I lived here so long to have it polluted +by a vile Trinitarian—a follower of the rascal +Athanasius? Wretched idolater, learn once<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +for all, that the Logos is in truth an emanation +from the Deity, and in no sense equal or co-eternal +with Him! Out with you, I say, or I +will dash out your brains with my staff!"</p> + +<p>It was useless to reason with the furious +Arian, and Simon withdrew in sadness and +wonder, that at this extreme verge of the +known earth the spirit of religious strife should +still break upon the peaceful solitude of the wilderness. +With hanging head and heavy heart +he made his way down the valley, and climbed +up once more to his own cell, which lay at the +crown of the hill, with the intention of never +again exchanging visits with his Arian neighbour.</p> + +<p>Here, for a year, dwelt Simon Melas, leading +a life of solitude and prayer. There was no +reason why any one should ever come to this +outermost point of human habitation. Once a +young Roman officer—Caius Crassus—rode +out a day's journey from Tyras, and climbed +the hill to have speech with the anchorite. He +was of an equestrian family, and still held his +belief in the old dispensation. He looked with +interest and surprise, but also with some disgust,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +at the ascetic arrangements of that +humble abode.</p> + +<p>"Whom do you please by living in such a +fashion?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"We show that our spirit is superior to our +flesh," Simon answered. "If we fare badly +in this world, we believe that we shall reap an +advantage in the world to come."</p> + +<p>The centurion shrugged his shoulders. +"There are philosophers among our people, +Stoics and others, who have the same idea. +When I was in the Herulian Cohort of the +Fourth Legion we were quartered in Rome itself, +and I saw much of the Christians, but I +could never learn anything from them which I +had not heard from my own father, whom you, +in your arrogance, would call a Pagan. It is +true that we talk of numerous gods; but for +many years we have not taken them very seriously. +Our thoughts upon virtue and duty and +a noble life are the same as your own."</p> + +<p>Simon Melas shook his head.</p> + +<p>"If you have not the holy books," said he, +"then what guide have you to direct your +steps?"</p> + +<p>"If you will read our philosophers, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +above all the divine Plato, you will find that +there are other guides who may take you to the +same end. Have you by chance read the book +which was written by our Emperor Marcus +Aurelius? Do you not discover there every +virtue which man could have, although he knew +nothing of your creed? Have you considered, +also, the words and actions of our late Emperor +Julian, with whom I served my first campaign +when he went out against the Persians? +Where could you find a more perfect man than +he?"</p> + +<p>"Such talk is unprofitable, and I will have +no more of it," said Simon sternly. "Take +heed while there is time, and embrace the true +faith; for the end of the world is at hand, and +when it comes there will be no mercy for +those who have shut their eyes to the light." +So saying, he turned back once more to his +praying-stool and to his crucifix, while the +young Roman walked in deep thought down +the hill, and mounting his horse, rode off to his +distant post. Simon watched him until his +brazen helmet was but a bead of light on the +western edge of the great plain; for this was +the first human face that he had seen in all this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +long year, and there were times when his heart +yearned for the voices and the faces of his +kind.</p> + +<p>So another year passed, and save for the +change of weather and the slow change of the +seasons, one day was as another. Every morning +when Simon opened his eyes, he saw the +same grey line ripening into red in the furthest +east, until the bright rim pushed itself above +that far-off horizon across which no living +creature had ever been known to come. Slowly +the sun swept across the huge arch of the +heavens, and as the shadows shifted from the +black rocks which jutted upward from above +his cell, so did the hermit regulate his terms of +prayer and meditation. There was nothing on +earth to draw his eye, or to distract his mind, +for the grassy plain below was as void from +month to month as the heaven above. So the +long hours passed, until the red rim slipped +down on the further side, and the day ended in +the same pearl-grey shimmer with which it had +begun. Once two ravens circled for some days +round the lonely hill, and once a white fish-eagle +came from the Dniester and screamed +above the hermit's head. Sometimes red dots<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +were seen on the green plain where the antelopes +grazed, and often a wolf howled in the +darkness from the base of the rocks. Such +was the uneventful life of Simon Melas the +anchorite, until there came the day of wrath.</p> + +<p>It was in the late spring of the year 375 that +Simon came out from his cell, his gourd in his +hand, to draw water from the spring. Darkness +had closed in, the sun had set, but one last +glimmer of rosy light rested upon a rocky +peak, which jutted forth from the hill, on the +further side from the hermit's dwelling. As +Simon came forth from under his ledge, the +gourd dropped from his hand, and he stood +gazing in amazement.</p> + +<p>On the opposite peak a man was standing, his +outline black in the fading light. He was a +strange, almost a deformed figure, short-statured, +round-backed, with a large head, no +neck, and a long rod jutting out from between +his shoulders. He stood with his face advanced, +and his body bent, peering very intently +over the plain to the westward. In a moment +he was gone, and the lonely black peak showed +up hard and naked against the faint eastern<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +glimmer. Then the night closed down, and +all was black once more.</p> + +<p>Simon Melas stood long in bewilderment, +wondering who this stranger could be. He +had heard, as had every Christian, of those evil +spirits which were wont to haunt the hermits +in the Thebaid and on the skirts of the Ethiopian +waste. The strange shape of this solitary +creature, its dark outline and prowling, +intent attitude, suggestive rather of a fierce, +rapacious beast than of a man, all helped him +to believe that he had at last encountered one +of those wanderers from the pit, of whose +existence, in those days of robust faith, he had +no more doubt than of his own. Much of the +night he spent in prayer, his eyes glancing continually +at the low arch of his cell door, with +its curtain of deep purple wrought with stars. +At any instant some crouching monster, some +horned abomination, might peer in upon him, +and he clung with frenzied appeal to his crucifix, +as his human weakness quailed at the +thought. But at last his fatigue overcame his +fears, and falling upon his couch of dried grass, +he slept until the bright daylight brought him +to his senses.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was later than was his wont, and the sun +was far above the horizon. As he came forth +from his cell, he looked across at the peak of +rock, but it stood there bare and silent. Already +it seemed to him that that strange dark +figure which had startled him so was some +dream, some vision of the twilight. His gourd +lay where it had fallen, and he picked it up with +the intention of going to the spring. But suddenly +he was aware of something new. The +whole air was throbbing with sound. From +all sides it came, rumbling, indefinite, an inarticulate +mutter, low, but thick and strong, +rising, falling, reverberating among the rocks, +dying away into vague whispers, but always +there. He looked round at the blue, cloudless +sky in bewilderment. Then he scrambled up +the rocky pinnacle above him, and sheltering +himself in its shadow, he stared out over the +plain. In his wildest dream he had never imagined +such a sight.</p> + +<p>The whole vast expanse was covered with +horsemen, hundreds and thousands and tens +of thousands, all riding slowly and in silence, +out of the unknown east. It was the multitudinous +beat of their horses' hoofs which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +caused that low throbbing in his ears. Some +were so close to him as he looked down upon +them that he could see clearly their thin, wiry +horses, and the strange humped figures of their +swarthy riders, sitting forward on the withers, +shapeless bundles, their short legs hanging +stirrupless, their bodies balanced as firmly as +though they were part of the beast. In those +nearest he could see the bow and the quiver, +the long spear and the short sword, with the +coiled lasso behind the rider, which told that +this was no helpless horde of wanderers, but +a formidable army upon the march. His eyes +passed on from them and swept further and +further, but still to the very horizon, which +quivered with movement, there was no end to +this monstrous cavalry. Already the vanguard +was far past the island of rock upon which he +dwelt, and he could now understand that in +front of this vanguard were single scouts who +guided the course of the army, and that it was +one of these whom he had seen the evening +before.</p> + +<p>All day, held spell-bound by this wonderful +sight, the hermit crouched in the shadow of +the rocks, and all day the sea of horsemen rolled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +onward over the plain beneath. Simon had seen +the swarming quays of Alexandria, he had +watched the mob which blocked the hippodrome +of Constantinople, yet never had he imagined +such a multitude as now defiled beneath his +eyes, coming from that eastern skyline which +had been the end of his world. Sometimes the +dense streams of horsemen were broken by +droves of brood-mares and foals, driven along +by mounted guards; sometimes there were +herds of cattle; sometimes there were lines of +waggons with skin canopies above them; but +then once more, after every break, came the +horsemen, the horsemen, the hundreds and the +thousands and the tens of thousands, slowly, +ceaselessly, silently drifting from the east to +the west. The long day passed, the light +waned, and the shadows fell, but still the great +broad stream was flowing by.</p> + +<p>But the night brought a new and even +stranger sight. Simon had marked bundles of +faggots upon the backs of many of the led +horses, and now he saw their use. All over the +great plain, red pin-points gleamed through the +darkness, which grew and brightened into +flickering columns of flame. So far as he could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +see both to east and west the fires extended, +until they were but points of light in the +furthest distance. White stars shone in the +vast heavens above, red ones in the great +plain below. And from every side rose the +low, confused murmur of voices, with the lowing +of oxen and the neighing of horses.</p> + +<p>Simon had been a soldier and a man of affairs +before ever he forsook the world, and +the meaning of all that he had seen was clear +to him. History told him how the Roman +world had ever been assailed by fresh swarms +of Barbarians, coming from the outer darkness, +and that the eastern Empire had already, +in its fifty years of existence since Constantine +had moved the capital of the world to the +shores of the Bosphorus, been tormented in the +same way. Gepidæ and Heruli, Ostrogoths +and Sarmatians, he was familiar with them all. +What the advanced sentinel of Europe had +seen from this lonely outlying hill, was a fresh +swarm breaking in upon the Empire, distinguished +only from the others by its enormous, +incredible size and by the strange aspect of the +warriors who composed it. He alone of all +civilised men knew of the approach of this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +dreadful shadow, sweeping like a heavy storm +cloud from the unknown depths of the east. He +thought of the little Roman posts along the +Dniester, of the ruined Dacian wall of Trajan +behind them, and then of the scattered, defenceless +villages which lay with no thought of +danger over all the open country which +stretched down to the Danube. Could he but +give them the alarm! Was it not, perhaps, for +that very end that God had guided him to the +wilderness?</p> + +<p>Then suddenly he remembered his Arian +neighbour, who dwelt in the cave beneath him. +Once or twice during the last year he had +caught a glimpse of his tall, bent figure +hobbling round to examine the traps which he +laid for quails and partridges. On one occasion +they had met at the brook; but the old theologian +waved him away as if he were a leper. +What did he think now of this strange happening? +Surely their differences might be forgotten at +such a moment. He stole down the +side of the hill, and made his way to his fellow-hermit's +cave.</p> + +<p>But there was a terrible silence as he approached +it. His heart sank at that deadly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +stillness in the little valley. No glimmer of +light came from the cleft in the rocks. He +entered and called, but no answer came back. +Then, with flint, steel, and the dry grass which +he used for tinder, he struck a spark, and blew +it into a blaze. The old hermit, his white hair +dabbled with crimson, lay sprawling across the +floor. The broken crucifix, with which his +head had been beaten in, lay in splinters across +him. Simon had dropped on his knees beside +him, straightening his contorted limbs, and +muttering the office for the dead, when the thud +of a horse's hoofs was heard ascending the little +valley which led to the hermit's cell. The dry +grass had burned down, and Simon crouched +trembling in the darkness, pattering prayers +to the Virgin that his strength might be upheld.</p> + +<p>It may have been that the new-comer had +seen the gleam of the light, or it may have been +that he had heard from his comrades of the old +man whom they had murdered, and that his +curiosity had led him to the spot. He stopped +his horse outside the cave, and Simon, lurking +in the shadows within, had a fair view of him +in the moonlight. He slipped from his saddle,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +fastened the bridle to a root, and then stood +peering through the opening of the cell. He +was a very short, thick man, with a dark face, +which was gashed with three cuts upon either +side. His small eyes were sunk deep in his +head, showing like black holes in the heavy, +flat, hairless face. His legs were short and +very bandy, so that he waddled uncouthly as +he walked.</p> + +<p>Simon crouched in the darkest angle, and he +gripped in his hand that same knotted cudgel +which the dead theologian had once raised +against him. As that hideous stooping head +advanced into the darkness of the cell, he +brought the staff down upon it with all the +strength of his right arm, and then, as the +stricken savage fell forward upon his face, he +struck madly again and again, until the shapeless +figure lay limp and still. One roof covered +the first slain of Europe and of Asia.</p> + +<p>Simon's veins were throbbing and quivering +with the unwonted joy of action. All the +energy stored up in those years of repose came +in a flood at this moment of need. Standing in +the darkness of the cell, he saw, as in a map of +fire, the outlines of the great Barbaric host,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +the line of the river, the position of the settlements, +the means by which they might be +warned. Silently he waited in the shadow until +the moon had sunk. Then he flung himself +upon the dead man's horse, guided it down the +gorge, and set forth at a gallop across the +plain.</p> + +<p>There were fires on every side of him, but he +kept clear of the rings of light. Round each +he could see, as he passed, the circle of sleeping +warriors, with the long lines of picketed +horses. Mile after mile and league after league +stretched that huge encampment. And then, +at last, he had reached the open plain which led +to the river, and the fires of the invaders were +but a dull smoulder against the black eastern +sky. Ever faster and faster he sped across the +steppe, like a single fluttered leaf which whirls +before the storm. Even as the dawn whitened +the sky behind him, it gleamed also upon the +broad river in front, and he flogged his weary +horse through the shallows, until he plunged +into its full yellow tide.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>So it was that, as the young Roman centurion—Caius +Crassus—made his morning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +round in the fort of Tyras he saw a single +horseman, who rode towards him from the +river. Weary and spent, drenched with water +and caked with dirt and sweat, both horse and +man were at the last stage of their endurance. +With amazement the Roman watched their +progress, and recognised in the ragged, swaying +figure, with flying hair and staring eyes, +the hermit of the eastern desert. He ran to +meet him, and caught him in his arms as he +reeled from the saddle.</p> + +<p>"What is it, then?" he asked. "What is +your news?"</p> + +<p>But the hermit could only point at the rising +sun. "To arms!" he croaked. "To arms! +The day of wrath is come!" And as he looked, +the Roman saw—far across the river—a great +dark shadow, which moved slowly over the distant +plain.</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> +<h2>V<br /> +THE CONTEST</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the year of our Lord 66, the Emperor +Nero, being at that time in the twenty-ninth +year of his life and the thirteenth of his reign, +set sail for Greece with the strangest company +and the most singular design that any monarch +has ever entertained. With ten galleys he went +forth from Puteoli, carrying with him great +stores of painted scenery and theatrical properties, +together with a number of knights and +senators, whom he feared to leave behind him +at Rome, and who were all marked for death +in the course of his wanderings. In his train +he took Natus, his singing coach; Cluvius, a +man with a monstrous voice, who should bawl +out his titles; and a thousand trained youths +who had learned to applaud in unison whenever +their master sang or played in public. So +deftly had they been taught that each had his +own rôle to play. Some did no more than +give forth a low deep hum of speechless appreciation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +Some clapped with enthusiasm. +Some, rising from approbation into absolute +frenzy, shrieked, stamped, and beat sticks upon +the benches. Some—and they were the most +effective—had learned from an Alexandrian +a long droning musical note which they all uttered +together, so that it boomed over the assembly. +With the aid of these mercenary +admirers, Nero had every hope, in spite of his +indifferent voice and clumsy execution, to return +to Rome, bearing with him the chaplets +for song offered for free competition by the +Greek cities. As his great gilded galley with +two tiers of oars passed down the Mediterranean, +the Emperor sat in his cabin all day, +his teacher by his side, rehearsing from morning +to night those compositions which he had +selected, whilst every few hours a Nubian +slave massaged the Imperial throat with oil +and balsam, that it might be ready for the great +ordeal which lay before it in the land of poetry +and song. His food, his drink, and his exercise +were prescribed for him as for an athlete +who trains for a contest, and the twanging of +his lyre, with the strident notes of his voice,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +resounded continually from the Imperial quarters.</p> + +<p>Now it chanced that there lived in those days +a Grecian goatherd named Policles, who tended +and partly owned a great flock which grazed +upon the long flanks of the hills near Herœa, +which is five miles north of the river Alpheus, +and no great distance from the famous Olympia. +This person was noted over all the +country-side as a man of strange gifts and +singular character. He was a poet who had +twice been crowned for his verses, and he was +a musician to whom the use and sound of an instrument +were so natural that one would more +easily meet him without his staff than his harp. +Even in his lonely vigils on the winter hills he +would bear it always slung over his shoulder, +and would pass the long hours by its aid, so +that it had come to be part of his very self. He +was beautiful also, swarthy and eager, with a +head like Adonis, and in strength there was no +one who could compete with him. But all was +ruined by his disposition, which was so masterful +that he would brook no opposition nor +contradiction. For this reason he was continually +at enmity with all his neighbours, and in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +his fits of temper he would spend months at a +time in his stone hut among the mountains, +hearing nothing from the world, and living only +for his music and his goats.</p> + +<p>One spring morning, in the year of 67, +Policles, with the aid of his boy Dorus, had +driven his goats over to a new pasturage which +overlooked from afar the town of Olympia. +Gazing down upon it from the mountain, the +shepherd was surprised to see that a portion +of the famous amphitheatre had been roofed +in, as though some performance was being enacted. +Living far from the world and from +all news, Policles could not imagine what was +afoot, for he was well aware that the Grecian +games were not due for two years to come. +Surely some poetic or musical contest must +be proceeding of which he had heard nothing. +If so, there would perhaps be some chance of his +gaining the votes of the judges; and in any case +he loved to hear the compositions and admire +the execution of the great minstrels who assembled +on such an occasion. Calling to Dorus, +therefore, he left the goats to his charge, and +strode swiftly away, his harp upon his back, to +see what was going forward in the town.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> + +<p>When Policles came into the suburbs, he +found them deserted; but he was still more surprised +when he reached the main street to see +no single human being in the place. He hastened +his steps, therefore, and as he approached +the theatre he was conscious of a low sustained +hum which announced the concourse of a huge +assembly. Never in all his dreams had he +imagined any musical competition upon so vast +a scale as this. There were some soldiers clustering +outside the door; but Policles pushed his +way swiftly through them, and found himself +upon the outskirts of the multitude who filled +the great space formed by roofing over a portion +of the national stadium. Looking around +him, Policles saw a great number of his neighbours, +whom he knew by sight, tightly packed +upon the benches, all with their eyes fixed upon +the stage. He also observed that there were +soldiers round the walls, and that a considerable +part of the hall was filled by a body of +youths of foreign aspect, with white gowns +and long hair. All this he perceived; but what +it meant he could not imagine. He bent over +to a neighbour to ask him, but a soldier prodded +him at once with the butt end of his spear, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +commanded him fiercely to hold his peace. The +man whom he had addressed, thinking that +Policles had demanded a seat, pressed closer to +his neighbour, and so the shepherd found himself +sitting at the end of the bench which was +nearest to the door. Thence he concentrated +himself upon the stage, on which Metas, a well-known +minstrel from Corinth and an old friend +of Policles, was singing and playing without +much encouragement from the audience. To +Policles it seemed that Metas was having less +than his due, so he applauded loudly, but he was +surprised to observe that the soldiers frowned +at him, and that all his neighbours regarded +him with some surprise. Being a man of +strong and obstinate character, he was the +more inclined to persevere in his clapping +when he perceived that the general sentiment +was against him.</p> + +<p>But what followed filled the shepherd poet +with absolute amazement. When Metas of +Corinth had made his bow and withdrawn to +half-hearted and perfunctory applause, there +appeared upon the stage, amid the wildest enthusiasm +upon the part of the audience, a most +extraordinary figure. He was a short fat man,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +neither old nor young, with a bull neck and a +round, heavy face, which hung in creases in +front like the dewlap of an ox. He was absurdly +clad in a short blue tunic, braced at the +waist with a golden belt. His neck and part of +his chest were exposed, and his short, fat legs +were bare from the buskins below to the middle +of his thighs, which was as far as his tunic extended. +In his hair were two golden wings, +and the same upon his heels, after the fashion +of the god Mercury. Behind him walked a +negro bearing a harp, and beside him a richly +dressed officer who bore rolls of music. This +strange creature took the harp from the hands +of the attendant, and advanced to the front of +the stage, whence he bowed and smiled to the +cheering audience. "This is some foppish +singer from Athens," thought Policles to himself, +but at the same time he understood that +only a great master of song could receive such +a reception from a Greek audience. This was +evidently some wonderful performer whose +reputation had preceded him. Policles settled +down, therefore, and prepared to give his soul +up to the music.</p> + +<p>The blue-clad player struck several chords<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +upon his lyre, and then burst suddenly out into +the "Ode of Niobe." Policles sat straight up +on his bench and gazed at the stage in amazement. +The tune demanded a rapid transition +from a low note to a high, and had been purposely +chosen for this reason. The low note +was a grunting, a rumble, the deep discordant +growling of an ill-conditioned dog. Then suddenly +the singer threw up his face, straightened +his tubby figure, rose upon his tiptoes, +and with wagging head and scarlet cheeks +emitted such a howl as the same dog might +have given had his growl been checked by a +kick from his master. All the while the lyre +twanged and thrummed, sometimes in front of +and sometimes behind the voice of the singer. +But what amazed Policles most of all was the +effect of this performance upon the audience. +Every Greek was a trained critic, and as unsparing +in his hisses as he was lavish in his +applause. Many a singer far better than this +absurd fop had been driven amid execration +and abuse from the platform. But now, as the +man stopped and wiped the abundant sweat +from his fat face, the whole assembly burst +into a delirium of appreciation. The shepherd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +held his hands to his bursting head, and felt +that his reason must be leaving him. It was +surely a dreadful musical nightmare, and he +would wake soon and laugh at the remembrance. +But no; the figures were real, the faces were +those of his neighbours, the cheers which resounded +in his ears were indeed from an audience +which filled the theatre of Olympia. The +whole chorus was in full blast, the hummers +humming, the shouters bellowing, the tappers +hard at work upon the benches, while every +now and then came a musical cyclone of "Incomparable! +Divine!" from the trained phalanx +who intoned their applause, their united +voices sweeping over the tumult as the drone +of the wind dominates the roar of the sea. It +was madness—insufferable madness! If this +were allowed to pass, there was an end of all +musical justice in Greece. Policles' conscience +would not permit him to be still. Standing +upon his bench with waving hands and up-raised +voice, he protested with all the strength +of his lungs against the mad judgment of the +audience.</p> + +<p>At first, amid the tumult, his action was +hardly noticed. His voice was drowned in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +the universal roar which broke out afresh at +each bow and smirk from the fatuous musician. +But gradually the folk round Policles ceased +clapping, and stared at him in astonishment. +The silence grew in ever widening circles, until +the whole great assembly sat mute, staring at +this wild and magnificent creature who was +storming at them from his perch near the door.</p> + +<p>"Fools!" he cried. "What are you clapping +at? What are you cheering? Is this what you +call music? Is this cat-calling to earn an +Olympian prize? The fellow has not a note in +his voice. You are either deaf or mad, and I +for one cry shame upon you for your folly."</p> + +<p>Soldiers ran to pull him down, and the whole +audience was in confusion, some of the bolder +cheering the sentiments of the shepherd, and +others crying that he should be cast out of the +building. Meanwhile the successful singer, +having handed his lyre to his negro attendant, +was enquiring from those around him on the +stage as to the cause of the uproar. Finally a +herald with an enormously powerful voice +stepped forward to the front, and proclaimed +that if the foolish person at the back of the hall, +who appeared to differ from the opinion of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +rest of the audience, would come forward upon +the platform, he might, if he dared, exhibit +his own powers, and see if he could outdo the +admirable and wonderful exhibition which they +had just had the privilege of hearing.</p> + +<p>Policles sprang readily to his feet at the +challenge, and the great company making way +for him to pass, he found himself a minute later +standing in his unkempt garb, with his frayed +and weather-beaten harp in his hand, before the +expectant crowd. He stood for a moment +tightening a string here and slackening another +there until his chords rang true. Then, amid a +murmur of laughter and jeers from the Roman +benches immediately before him, he began to +sing.</p> + +<p>He had prepared no composition, but he had +trained himself to improvise, singing out of +his heart for the joy of the music. He told of +the land of Elis, beloved of Jupiter, in which +they were gathered that day, of the great bare +mountain slopes, of the swift shadows of the +clouds, of the winding blue river, of the keen +air of the uplands, of the chill of the evenings, +and the beauties of earth and sky. It was all +simple and childlike, but it went to the hearts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +of the Olympians, for it spoke of the land which +they knew and loved. Yet when he at last +dropped his hand, few of them dared to applaud, +and their feeble voices were drowned by a storm +of hisses and groans from his opponents. He +shrank back in horror from so unusual a reception, +and in an instant his blue-clad rival was in +his place. If he had sung badly before, his +performance now was inconceivable. His +screams, his grunts, his discords, and harsh +jarring cacophonies were an outrage to the +very name of music. And yet every time that +he paused for breath or to wipe his streaming +forehead a fresh thunder of applause came rolling +back from the audience. Policles sank his +face in his hands and prayed that he might not +be insane. Then, when the dreadful performance +ceased, and the uproar of admiration +showed that the crown was certainly awarded +to this impostor, a horror of the audience, a +hatred of this race of fools, and a craving for +the peace and silence of the pastures mastered +every feeling in his mind. He dashed through +the mass of people waiting at the wings, and +emerged in the open air. His old rival and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +friend Metas of Corinth was waiting there with +an anxious face.</p> + +<p>"Quick, Policles, quick!" he cried. "My +pony is tethered behind yonder grove. A grey +he is, with red trappings. Get you gone as +hard as hoof will bear you, for if you are taken +you will have no easy death."</p> + +<p>"No easy death! What mean you, Metas? +Who is the fellow?"</p> + +<p>"Great Jupiter! did you not know? Where +have you lived? It is Nero the Emperor! +Never would he pardon what you have said +about his voice. Quick, man, quick, or the +guards will be at your heels!"</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>An hour later the shepherd was well on his +way to his mountain home, and about the same +time the Emperor, having received the Chaplet +of Olympia for the incomparable excellence +of his performance, was making enquiries with +a frowning brow as to who the insolent person +might be who had dared to utter such contemptuous +criticisms.</p> + +<p>"Bring him to me here this instant," said he, +"and let Marcus with his knife and branding-iron +be in attendance."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If it please you, great Cæsar," said Arsenius +Platus, the officer of attendance, "the +man cannot be found, and there are some very +strange rumours flying about."</p> + +<p>"Rumours!" cried the angry Nero. "What +do you mean, Arsenius? I tell you that the +fellow was an ignorant upstart with the bearing +of a boor and the voice of a peacock. I tell +you also that there are a good many who are +as guilty as he among the people, for I heard +them with my own ears raise cheers for him +when he had sung his ridiculous ode. I have +half a mind to burn their town about their ears +so that they may remember my visit."</p> + +<p>"It is not to be wondered at if he won their +votes, Cæsar," said the soldier, "for from what +I hear it would have been no disgrace had you, +even you, been conquered in this contest."</p> + +<p>"I conquered! You are mad, Arsenius. +What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"None know him, great Cæsar! He came +from the mountains, and he disappeared into +the mountains. You marked the wildness and +strange beauty of his face. It is whispered +that for once the great god Pan has condescended +to measure himself against a mortal."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> + +<p>The cloud cleared from Nero's brow. "Of +course, Arsenius! You are right! No man +would have dared to brave me so. What a story +for Rome! Let the messenger leave this +very night, Arsenius, to tell them how their +Emperor has upheld their honour in Olympia +this day."</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> +<h2>VI<br /> +THE FIRST CARGO</h2> + +<div class="bk4">"Ex ovo omnia"</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> you left Britain with your legion, my +dear Crassus, I promised that I would write +to you from time to time when a messenger +chanced to be going to Rome, and keep you informed +as to anything of interest which might +occur in this country. Personally, I am very +glad that I remained behind when the troops +and so many of our citizens left, for though the +living is rough and the climate is infernal, still +by dint of the three voyages which I have made +for amber to the Baltic, and the excellent prices +which I obtained for it here, I shall soon be in +a position to retire, and to spend my old age +under my own fig tree, or even perhaps to buy +a small villa at Baiae or Posuoli, where I could +get a good sun-bath after the continued fogs +of this accursed island. I picture myself on a +little farm, and I read the Georgics as a preparation;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +but when I hear the rain falling and +the wind howling, Italy seems very far away.</p> + +<p>In my previous letter I let you know how +things were going in this country. The poor +folk, who had given up all soldiering during the +centuries that we guarded them, are now perfectly +helpless before these Picts and Scots, +tattooed Barbarians from the north, who overrun +the whole country and do exactly what they +please. So long as they kept to the north, the +people in the south, who are the most numerous, +and also the most civilised of the Britons, +took no heed of them; but now the rascals have +come as far as London, and the lazy folk in +these parts have had to wake up. Vortigern, +the king, is useless for anything but drink or +women, so he sent across to the Baltic to get +over some of the North Germans, in the hope +that they would come and help him. It is bad +enough to have a bear in your house, but it +does not seem to me to mend matters if you +call in a pack of ferocious wolves as well. +However, nothing better could be devised, so +an invitation was sent and very promptly accepted. +And it is here that your humble friend +appears upon the scene. In the course of my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +amber trading I had learned the Saxon speech, +and so I was sent down in all haste to the Kentish +shore that I might be there when our new +allies came. I arrived there on the very day +when their first vessel appeared, and it is of my +adventures that I wish to tell you. It is perfectly +clear to me that the landing of these warlike +Germans in England will prove to be an +event of historical importance, and so your inquisitive +mind will not feel wearied if I treat +the matter in some detail.</p> + +<p>It was, then, upon the day of Mercury, immediately +following the Feast of Our Blessed +Lord's Ascension, that I found myself upon +the south bank of the river Thames, at the point +where it opens into a wide estuary. There is +an island there named Thanet, which was the +spot chosen for the landfall of our visitors. +Sure enough, I had no sooner ridden up than +there was a great red ship, the first as it seems +of three, coming in under full sail. The white +horse, which is the ensign of these rovers, was +hanging from her topmast, and she appeared +to be crowded with men. The sun was shining +brightly, and the great scarlet ship, with snow-white +sails and a line of gleaming shields slung<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +over her side, made as fair a picture on that +blue expanse as one would wish to see.</p> + +<p>I pushed off at once in a boat, because it had +been arranged that none of the Saxons should +land until the king had come down to speak +with their leaders. Presently I was under the +ship, which had a gilded dragon in the bows, +and a tier of oars along either side. As I +looked up, there was a row of helmeted heads +looking down at me, and among them I saw, to +my great surprise and pleasure, that of Eric the +Swart, with whom I do business at Venta every +year. He greeted me heartily when I reached +the deck, and became at once my guide, friend, +and counsellor. This helped me greatly with +these Barbarians, for it is their nature that +they are very cold and aloof unless one of their +own number can vouch for you, after which +they are very hearty and hospitable. Try as +they will, they find it hard, however, to avoid a +certain suggestion of condescension, and in the +baser sort, of contempt, when they are dealing +with a foreigner.</p> + +<p>It was a great stroke of luck meeting Eric, +for he was able to give me some idea of how +things stood before I was shown into the presence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +of Kenna, the leader of this particular +ship. The crew, as I learned from him, was +entirely made up of three tribes or families—those +of Kenna, of Lanc, and of Hasta. Each +of these tribes gets its name by putting the letters +"ing" after the name of the chief, so that +the people on board would describe themselves +as Kennings, Lancings, and Hastings. I observed +in the Baltic that the villages were +named after the family who lived in them, each +keeping to itself, so that I have no doubt that +if these fellows get a footing on shore, we shall +see settlements with names like these rising up +among the British towns.</p> + +<p>The greater part of the men were sturdy +fellows with red, yellow, or brown hair, mostly +the latter. To my surprise, I saw several +women among them. Eric, in answer to my +question, explained that they always take their +women with them so far as they can, and that +instead of finding them an encumbrance as our +Roman dames would be, they look upon them +as helpmates and advisers. Of course, I remembered +afterwards that our excellent and +accurate Tacitus has remarked upon this characteristic +of the Germans. All laws in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +tribes are decided by votes, and a vote has not +yet been given to the women, but many are in +favour of it, and it is thought that woman and +man may soon have the same power in the +State, though many of the women themselves +are opposed to such an innovation. I observed +to Eric that it was fortunate there were several +women on board, as they could keep each +other company; but he answered that the wives +of chiefs had no desire to know the wives of +the inferior officers, and that both of them +combined against the more common women, so +that any companionship was out of the question. +He pointed as he spoke to Editha, the +wife of Kenna, a red-faced, elderly woman, +who walked among the others, her chin in the +air, taking no more notice than if they did not +exist.</p> + +<p>Whilst I was talking to my friend Eric, a +sudden altercation broke out upon the deck, and +a great number of the men paused in their +work, and flocked towards the spot with faces +which showed that they were deeply interested +in the matter. Eric and I pushed our way +among the others, for I was very anxious to +see as much as I could of the ways and manners<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +of these Barbarians. A quarrel had +broken out about a child, a little blue-eyed fellow +with curly yellow hair, who appeared to be +greatly amused by the hubbub of which he was +the cause. On one side of him stood a white-bearded +old man, of very majestic aspect, who +signified by his gestures that he claimed the lad +for himself, while on the other was a thin, +earnest, anxious person, who strongly objected +to the boy being taken from him. Eric whispered +in my ear that the old man was the tribal +high priest, who was the official sacrificer to +their great god Woden, whilst the other was +a man who took somewhat different views, not +upon Woden, but upon the means by which he +should be worshipped. The majority of the +crew were on the side of the old priest; but +a certain number, who liked greater liberty of +worship, and to invent their own prayers instead +of always repeating the official ones, +followed the lead of the younger man. The difference +was too deep and too old to be healed +among the grown men, but each had a great +desire to impress his view upon the children. +This was the reason why these two were now +so furious with each other, and the argument<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +between them ran so high that several of their +followers on either side had drawn the short +saxes, or knives from which their name of +Saxon is derived, when a burly, red-headed +man pushed his way through the throng, and +in a voice of thunder brought the controversy +to an end.</p> + +<p>"You priests, who argue about the things +which no man can know, are more trouble +aboard this ship than all the dangers of the +sea," he cried. "Can you not be content with +worshipping Woden, over which we are all +agreed, and not make so much of those small +points upon which we may differ. If there is +all this fuss about the teaching of the children, +then I shall forbid either of you to teach them, +and they must be content with as much as they +can learn from their mothers."</p> + +<p>The two angry teachers walked away with +discontented faces; and Kenna—for it was he +who spoke—ordered that a whistle should be +sounded, and that the crew should assemble. I +was pleased with the free bearing of these +people, for though this was their greatest chief, +they showed none of the exaggerated respect +which soldiers of a legion might show to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +Prætor, but met him on a respectful equality, +which showed how highly they rated their own +manhood.</p> + +<p>From our Roman standard, his remarks to +his men would seem very wanting in eloquence, +for there were no graces nor metaphors to be +found in them, and yet they were short, strong +and to the point. At any rate it was very +clear that they were to the minds of his hearers. +He began by reminding them that they had left +their own country because the land was all +taken up, and that there was no use returning +there, since there was no place where they could +dwell as free and independent men. This island +of Britain was but sparsely inhabited, and there +was a chance that every one of them would be +able to found a home of his own.</p> + +<p>"You, Whitta," he said, addressing some of +them by name, "you will found a Whitting +hame, and you, Bucka, we shall see you in a +Bucking hame, where your children and your +children's children will bless you for the broad +acres which your valour will have gained for +them." There was no word of glory or of +honour in his speech, but he said that he was +aware that they would do their duty, on which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +they all struck their swords upon their shields +so that the Britons on the beach could hear the +clang. Then, his eyes falling upon me, he +asked me whether I was the messenger from +Vortigern, and on my answering, he bid me +follow him into his cabin, where Lanc and +Hasta, the other chiefs, were waiting for a +council.</p> + +<p>Picture me, then, my dear Crassus, in a very +low-roofed cabin, with these three huge Barbarians +seated round me. Each was clad in +some sort of saffron tunic, with a chain-mail +shirt over it, and a helmet with the horns of +oxen on the sides, laid upon the table before +him. Like most of the Saxon chiefs, their +beards were shaved, but they wore their hair +long and their huge light-coloured moustaches +drooped down on to their shoulders. They are +gentle, slow, and somewhat heavy in their +bearing, but I can well fancy that their fury is +the more terrible when it does arise.</p> + +<p>Their minds seem to be of a very practical +and positive nature, for they at once began to +ask me a series of question upon the numbers +of the Britons, the resources of the kingdom, +the conditions of its trade, and other such subjects.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +They then set to work arguing over the +information which I had given, and became so +absorbed in their own contention that I believe +there were times when they forgot my presence. +Everything, after due discussion, was +decided between them by the vote, the one who +found himself in the minority always submitting, +though sometimes with a very bad grace. +Indeed, on one occasion Lanc, who usually differed +from the others, threatened to refer the +matter to the general vote of the whole crew. +There was a constant conflict in the point of +view; for whereas Kenna and Hasta were anxious +to extend the Saxon power, and to make +it greater in the eyes of the world, Lanc was +of opinion that they should give less thought +to conquest and more to the comfort and advancement +of their followers. At the same +time it seemed to me that really Lanc was the +most combative of the three; so much so that, +even in time of peace, he could not forego this +contest with his own brethren. Neither of +the others seemed very fond of him, for they +were each, as was easy to see, proud of their +chieftainship, and anxious to use their authority, +referring continually to those noble ancestors<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +from whom it was derived; while Lanc +though he was equally well born, took the view +of the common men upon every occasion, claiming +that the interests of the many were superior +to the privileges of the few. In a word, +Crassus, if you could imagine a free-booting +Gracchus on one side, and two piratical Patricians +upon the other, you would understand +the effect which my companions produced upon +me.</p> + +<p>There was one peculiarity which I observed +in their conversation which soothed me very +much. I am fond of these Britons, among +whom I have spent so much of my life, and I +wish them well. It was very pleasing, therefore, +to notice that these men insisted upon it +in their conversation that the whole object of +their visit was the good of the Islanders. Any +prospect of advantage to themselves was +pushed into the background. I was not clear +that these professions could be made to agree +with the speech in which Kenna had promised +a hundred hides of land to every man on the +ship; but on my making this remark, the three +chiefs seemed very surprised and hurt by my +suspicions, and explained very plausibly that,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +as the Britons needed them as a guard, they +could not aid them better than by settling on +the soil, and so being continually at hand in +order to help them. In time, they said, they +hoped to raise and train the natives to such a +point that they would be able to look after +themselves. Lanc spoke with some degree of +eloquence upon the nobleness of the mission +which they had undertaken, and the others clattered +their cups of mead (a jar of that unpleasant +drink was on the table) in token of their +agreement.</p> + +<p>I observed also how much interested, and +how very earnest and intolerant these Barbarians +were in the matter of religion. Of +Christianity they knew nothing, so that although +they were aware that the Britons were +Christians, they had not a notion of what +their creed really was. Yet without examination +they started by taking it for granted that +their own worship of Woden was absolutely +right, and that therefore this other creed must +be absolutely wrong. "This vile religion," +"This sad superstition," and "This grievous +error" were among the phrases which they +used towards it. Instead of expressing pity<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +for any one who had been misinformed upon so +serious a question, their feelings were those of +anger, and they declared most earnestly that +they would spare no pains to set the matter +right, fingering the hilts of their long broadswords +as they did so.</p> + +<p>Well, my dear Crassus, you will have had +enough of me and of my Saxons. I have given +you a short sketch of these people and their +ways. Since I began this letter, I have visited +the two other ships which have come in, and as +I find the same characteristics among the people +on board them, I cannot doubt that they lie +deeply in the race. For the rest, they are +brave, hardy, and very pertinacious in all that +they undertake; whereas the Britons, though a +great deal more spirited, have not the same +steadiness of purpose, their quicker imaginations +suggesting always some other course, and +their more fiery passions being succeeded by reaction. +When I looked from the deck of the +first Saxon ship, and saw the swaying excited +multitude of Britons on the beach, contrasting +them with the intent, silent men who stood beside +me, it seemed to me more than ever dangerous +to call in such allies. So strongly did I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +feel it that I turned to Kenna, who was also +looking towards the beach.</p> + +<p>"You will own this island before you have +finished," said I.</p> + +<p>His eyes sparkled as he gazed. "Perhaps," +he cried; and then suddenly correcting himself +and thinking that he had said too much, he +added—</p> + +<p>"A temporary occupation—nothing more."</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p> +<h2>VII<br /> +AN ICONOCLAST</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was daybreak of a March morning in the +year of Christ 92. Outside the long Semita +Alta was already thronged with people, with +buyers and sellers, callers and strollers, for the +Romans were so early-rising a people that +many a Patrician preferred to see his clients +at six in the morning. Such was the good republican +tradition, still upheld by the more conservative; +but with more modern habits of +luxury, a night of pleasure and banqueting was +no uncommon thing. Thus one, who had +learned the new and yet adhered to the old, +might find his hours overlap, and without so +much as a pretence of sleep come straight from +his night of debauch into his day of business, +turning with heavy wits and an aching head +to that round of formal duties which consumed +the life of a Roman gentleman.</p> + +<p>So it was with Emilius Flaccus that March +morning. He and his fellow senator, Caius<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +Balbus, had passed the night in one of those +gloomy drinking bouts to which the Emperor +Domitian summoned his chosen friends at the +high palace on the Palatine. Now, having +reached the portals of the house of Flaccus, +they stood together under the pomegranate-fringed +portico which fronted the peristyle +and, confident in each other's tried discretion, +made up by the freedom of their criticism for +the long self-suppression of that melancholy +feast.</p> + +<p>"If he would but feed his guests," said Balbus, +a little red-faced, choleric nobleman with +yellow-shot angry eyes. "What had we? +Upon my life, I have forgotten. Plovers' eggs, +a mess of fish, some bird or other, and then his +eternal apples."</p> + +<p>"Of which," said Flaccus, "he ate only the +apples. Do him the justice to confess that he +takes even less than he gives. At least they +cannot say of him as of Vitellius, that his teeth +beggared the empire."</p> + +<p>"No, nor his thirst either, great as it is. +That fiery Sabine wine of his could be had for +a few sesterces the amphora. It is the common +drink of the carters at every wine-house<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +on the country roads. I longed for a glass of +my own rich Falernian or the mellow Coan +that was bottled in the year that Titus took +Jerusalem. Is it even now too late? Could +we not wash this rasping stuff from our +palates?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, better come in with me now and take +a bitter draught ere you go upon your way. +My Greek physician Stephanos has a rare prescription +for a morning head. What! Your +clients await you? Well, I will see you later +at the Senate house."</p> + +<p>The Patrician had entered his atrium, bright +with rare flowers, and melodious with strange +singing birds. At the jaws of the hall, true to +his morning duties, stood Lebs, the little +Nubian slave, with snow-white tunic and turban, +a salver of glasses in one hand, whilst in +the other he held a flask of thin lemon-tinted +liquid. The master of the house filled up a bitter +aromatic bumper, and was about to drink +it off when his hand was arrested by a sudden +perception that something was much amiss in +his household. It was to be read all around +him—in the frightened eyes of the black boy, +in the agitated face of the keeper of the atrium,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +in the gloom and silence of the little knot of +ordinarii, the procurator or major-domo at +their head, who had assembled to greet their +master. Stephanos the physician, Cleios the +Alexandrine reader, Promus the steward each +turned his head away to avoid his master's +questioning gaze.</p> + +<p>"What in the name of Pluto is the matter +with you all?" cried the amazed senator, whose +night of potations had left him in no mood for +patience. "Why do you stand moping there? +Stephanos, Vacculus, is anything amiss? +Here, Promus, you are the head of my household. +What is it, then? Why do you turn +your eyes away from me?"</p> + +<p>The burly steward, whose fat face was haggard +and mottled with anxiety, laid his hand +upon the sleeve of the domestic beside him.</p> + +<p>"Sergius is responsible for the atrium, my +lord. It is for him to tell you the terrible +thing that has befallen in your absence."</p> + +<p>"Nay, it was Datus who did it. Bring him +in, and let him explain it himself," said Sergius +in a sulky voice.</p> + +<p>The patience of the Patrician was at an end. +"Speak this instant, you rascal!" he shouted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +angrily. "Another minute, and I will have you +dragged to the ergastulum, where, with your +feet in the stocks and the gyves round your +wrists, you may learn quicker obedience. +Speak, I say, and without delay."</p> + +<p>"It is the Venus," the man stammered; +"the Greek Venus of Praxiteles."</p> + +<p>The senator gave a cry of apprehension and +rushed to the corner of the atrium, where a +little shrine, curtained off by silken drapery, +held the precious statue, the greatest art treasure +of his collection—perhaps of the whole +world. He tore the hangings aside and stood +in speechless anger before the outraged goddess. +The red, perfumed lamp which always +burned before her had been spilled and broken; +her altar fire had been quenched, her chaplet +had been dashed aside. But worst of all—insufferable +sacrilege!—her own beautiful nude +body of glistening Pentelic marble, as white +and fair as when the inspired Greek had hewed +it out five hundred years before, had been most +brutally mishandled. Three fingers of the +gracious outstretched hand had been struck off, +and lay upon the pedestal beside her. Above +her delicate breast a dark mark showed, where<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +a blow had disfigured the marble. Emilius +Flaccus, the most delicate and judicious connoisseur +in Rome, stood gasping and croaking, +his hand to his throat, as he gazed at his disfigured +masterpiece. Then he turned upon his +slaves, his fury in his convulsed face; but, to +his amazement, they were not looking at him, +but had all turned in attitudes of deep respect +towards the opening of the peristyle. As he +faced round and saw who had just entered his +house, his own rage fell away from him in an +instant, and his manner became as humble as +that of his servants.</p> + +<p>The new-comer was a man forty-three years +of age, clean shaven, with a massive head, +large engorged eyes, a small clear-cut nose, and +the full bull neck which was the especial mark +of his breed. He had entered through the peristyle +with a swaggering, rolling gait, as one +who walks upon his own ground, and now he +stood, his hands upon his hips, looking round +him at the bowing slaves, and finally at their +master, with a half-humorous expression upon +his flushed and brutal face.</p> + +<p>"Why, Emilius," said he, "I had understood +that your household was the best-ordered in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +Rome. What is amiss with you this morning?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing could be amiss with us now that +Cæsar has deigned to come under my roof," +said the courtier. "This is indeed a most glad +surprise which you have prepared for me."</p> + +<p>"It was an afterthought," said Domitian. +"When you and the others had left me, I was +in no mood for sleep, and so it came into my +mind that I would have a breath of morning +air by coming down to you, and seeing this +Grecian Venus of yours, about which you discoursed +so eloquently between the cups. But, +indeed, by your appearance and that of your +servants, I should judge that my visit was an +ill-timed one."</p> + +<p>"Nay, dear master; say not so. But, indeed, +it is truth that I was in trouble at the moment +of your welcome entrance, and this trouble +was, as the Fates have willed it, brought forth +by that very statue in which you have been +graciously pleased to show your interest. +There it stands, and you can see for yourself +how rudely it has been mishandled."</p> + +<p>"By Pluto and all the nether gods, if it were +mine some of you should feed the lampreys,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +said the Emperor, looking round with his +fierce eyes at the shrinking slaves. "You were +always overmerciful, Emilius. It is the common +talk that your catenæ are rusted for want +of use. But surely this is beyond all bounds. +Let me see how you handle the matter. Whom +do you hold responsible?"</p> + +<p>"The slave Sergius is responsible, since it is +his place to tend the atrium," said Flaccus. +"Stand forward, Sergius. What have you to +say?"</p> + +<p>The trembling slave advanced to his master. +"If it please you, sir, the mischief has been +done by Datus the Christian."</p> + +<p>"Datus! Who is he?"</p> + +<p>"The matulator, the scavenger, my lord. I +did not know that he belonged to these horrible +people, or I should not have admitted him. He +came with his broom to brush out the litter of +the birds. His eyes fell upon the Venus, and in +an instant he had rushed upon her and struck +her two blows with his wooden besom. Then +we fell upon him and dragged him away. But +alas! alas! it was too late, for already the +wretch had dashed off the fingers of the goddess."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Emperor smiled grimly, while the Patrician's +thin face grew pale with anger.</p> + +<p>"Where is the fellow?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"In the ergastulum, your honour, with the +furca on his neck."</p> + +<p>"Bring him hither and summon the household."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later the whole back of the +atrium was thronged by the motley crowd who +ministered to the household needs of a great +Roman nobleman. There was the arcarius, or +account keeper, with his stylum behind his ear; +the sleek prægustator, who sampled all foods, +so as to stand between his master and poison, +and beside him his predecessor, now a half-witted +idiot through the interception twenty +years before of a datura draught from Canidia; +the cellar-man, summoned from amongst his +amphoræ; the cook, with his basting-ladle in +his hand; the pompous nomenclator, who +ushered the guests; the cubicularius, who saw +to their accommodation; the silentiarius, who +kept order in the house; the structor, who set +forth the tables; the carptor, who carved the +food; the cinerarius, who lit the fires—these +and many more, half-curious, half-terrified,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +came to the judging of Datus. Behind them a +chattering, giggling swarm of Lalages, +Marias, Cerusas, and Amaryllides, from the +laundries and the spinning-rooms, stood upon +their tiptoes, and extended their pretty wondering +faces over the shoulders of the men. +Through this crowd came two stout varlets +leading the culprit between them. He was a +small, dark, rough-headed man, with an unkempt +beard and wild eyes which shone brightly +with strong inward emotion. His hands were +bound behind him, and over his neck was the +heavy wooden collar or furca which was placed +upon refractory slaves. A smear of blood +across his cheek showed that he had not come +uninjured from the preceding scuffle.</p> + +<p>"Are you Datus the scavenger?" asked the +Patrician.</p> + +<p>The man drew himself up proudly. "Yes," +said he, "I am Datus."</p> + +<p>"Did you do this injury to my statue?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did."</p> + +<p>There was an uncompromising boldness in +the man's reply which compelled respect. The +wrath of his master became tinged with interest.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why did you do this?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Because it was my duty."</p> + +<p>"Why, then, was it your duty to destroy +your master's property?"</p> + +<p>"Because I am a Christian." His eyes +blazed suddenly out of his dark face. "Because +there is no God but the one eternal, and all else +are sticks and stones. What has this naked +harlot to do with Him to whom the great +firmament is but a garment and the earth a +footstool? It was in His service that I have +broken your statue."</p> + +<p>Domitian looked with a smile at the Patrician. +"You will make nothing of him," said he. +"They speak even so when they stand before +the lions in the arena. As to argument, not all +the philosophers of Rome can break them down. +Before my very face they refuse to sacrifice in +my honour. Never were such impossible +people to deal with. I should take a short +way with him if I were you."</p> + +<p>"What would Cæsar advise?"</p> + +<p>"There are the games this afternoon. I am +showing the new hunting-leopard which King +Juba has sent from Numidia. This slave may<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +give us some sport when he finds the hungry +beast sniffing at his heels."</p> + +<p>The Patrician considered for a moment. He +had always been a father to his servants. It +was hateful to him to think of any injury befalling +them. Perhaps even now, if this strange +fanatic would show his sorrow for what he had +done, it might be possible to spare him. At +least it was worth trying.</p> + +<p>"Your offence deserves death," he said. +"What reasons can you give why it should not +befall you, since you have injured this statue, +which is worth your own price a hundred times +over?"</p> + +<p>The slave looked steadfastly at his master. +"I do not fear death," he said. "My sister +Candida died in the arena, and I am ready to +do the same. It is true that I have injured +your statue, but I am able to find you something +of far greater value in exchange. I will give +you the truth and the gospel in exchange for +your broken idol."</p> + +<p>The Emperor laughed. "You will do nothing +with him, Emilius," he said. "I know his +breed of old. He is ready to die; he says so +himself. Why save him, then?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p> + +<p>But the Patrician still hesitated. He would +make a last effort.</p> + +<p>"Throw off his bonds," he said to the guards. +"Now take the furca off his neck. So! Now, +Datus, I have released you to show you that I +trust you. I have no wish to do you any hurt if +you will but acknowledge your error, and so +set a better example to my household here assembled."</p> + +<p>"How, then, shall I acknowledge my error?" +the slave asked.</p> + +<p>"Bow your head before the goddess, and +entreat her forgiveness for the violence you +have done her. Then perhaps you may gain +my pardon as well."</p> + +<p>"Put me, then, before her," said the Christian.</p> + +<p>Emilius Flaccus looked triumphantly at +Domitian. By kindness and tact he was effecting +that which the Emperor had failed to do by +violence. Datus walked in front of the mutilated +Venus. Then with a sudden spring he +tore the baton out of the hand of one of his +guardians, leaped upon the pedestal, and showered +his blows upon the lovely marble woman. +With a crack and a dull thud her right arm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +dropped to the ground. Another fierce blow +and the left had followed. Flaccus danced +and screamed with horror, while his servants +dragged the raving iconoclast from his impassive +victim. Domitian's brutal laughter +echoed through the hall.</p> + +<p>"Well, friend, what think you now?" he +cried. "Are you wiser than your Emperor? +Can you indeed tame your Christian with +kindness?"</p> + +<p>Emilius Flaccus wiped the sweat from his +brow. "He is yours, great Cæsar. Do with +him as you will."</p> + +<p>"Let him be at the gladiators' entrance of +the circus an hour before the games begin," +said the Emperor. "Now, Emilius, the night +has been a merry one. My Ligurian galley +waits by the river quay. Come, cool your head +with a spin to Ostia ere the business of State +calls you to the Senate."</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p> +<h2>VIII<br /> +GIANT MAXIMIN</h2> + +<h3>I: THE COMING OF GIANT MAXIMIN</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Many</span> are the strange vicissitudes of history. +Greatness has often sunk to the dust, and has +tempered itself to its new surrounding. Smallness +has risen aloft, has flourished for a time, +and then has sunk once more. Rich monarchs +have become poor monks, brave conquerors +have lost their manhood, eunuchs and women +have overthrown armies and kingdoms. +Surely there is no situation which the mind +of man could invent which has not taken shape +and been played out upon the world stage. +But of all the strange careers and of all the +wondrous happenings, stranger than Charles +in his monastery, or Justin on his throne, there +stands the case of Giant Maximin, what he attained, +and how he attained it. Let me tell the +sober facts of history, tinged only by that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +colouring to which the more austere historians +could not condescend. It is a record as well as +a story.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>In the heart of Thrace some ten miles north +of the Rhodope mountains, there is a valley +which is named Harpessus, after the stream +which runs down it. Through this valley lies +the main road from the east to the west, and +along the road, returning from an expedition +against the Alani, there marched, upon the +fifth day of the month of June in the year 210, +a small but compact Roman army. It consisted +of three legions—the Jovian, the Cappadocian, +and the men of Hercules. Ten turmæ of Gallic +cavalry led the van, whilst the rear was covered +by a regiment of Batavian Horse Guards, the +immediate attendants of the Emperor Septimius +Severus, who had conducted the campaign +in person. The peasants who lined the low hills +which fringed the valley looked with indifference +upon the long files of dusty, heavily-burdened +infantry, but they broke into murmurs +of delight at the gold-faced cuirasses and +high brazen horse-hair helmets of the guardsmen, +applauding their stalwart figures, their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +martial bearing, and the stately black chargers +which they rode. A soldier might know that +it was the little weary men with their short +swords, their heavy pikes over their shoulders, +and their square shields slung upon their backs, +who were the real terror of the enemies of the +Empire, but to the eyes of the wondering +Thracians it was this troop of glittering +Apollos who bore Rome's victory upon their +banners, and upheld the throne of the purple-togaed +prince who rode before them.</p> + +<p>Among the scattered groups of peasants who +looked on from a respectful distance at this +military pageant, there were two men who attracted +much attention from those who stood +immediately around them. The one was commonplace +enough—a little grey-headed man, +with uncouth dress and a frame which was bent +and warped by a long life of arduous toil, goat-driving +and wood-chopping, among the mountains. +It was the appearance of his youthful +companion which had drawn the amazed observation +of the bystanders. In stature he was +such a giant as is seen but once or twice in each +generation of mankind. Eight feet and two +inches was his measure from his sandalled sole<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +to the topmost curls of his tangled hair. Yet +for all his mighty stature there was nothing +heavy or clumsy in the man. His huge shoulders +bore no redundant flesh, and his figure +was straight and hard and supple as a young +pine tree. A frayed suit of brown leather +clung close to his giant body, and a cloak of +undressed sheep-skin was slung from his shoulder. +His bold blue eyes, shock of yellow hair +and fair skin showed that he was of Gothic +or northern blood, and the amazed expression +upon his broad frank face as he stared at the +passing troops told of a simple and uneventful +life in some back valley of the Macedonian +mountains.</p> + +<p>"I fear your mother was right when she advised +that we keep you at home," said the old +man anxiously. "Tree-cutting and wood-carrying +will seem but dull work after such a +sight as this."</p> + +<p>"When I see mother next it will be to put a +golden torque round her neck," said the young +giant. "And you, daddy; I will fill your leather +pouch with gold pieces before I have done."</p> + +<p>The old man looked at his son with startled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +eyes. "You would not leave us, Theckla! +What could we do without you?"</p> + +<p>"My place is down among yonder men," +said the young man. "I was not born to drive +goats and carry logs, but to sell this manhood +of mine in the best market. There is my +market in the Emperor's own Guard. Say +nothing, daddy, for my mind is set, and if you +weep now it will be to laugh hereafter. I will +to great Rome with the soldiers."</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>The daily march of the heavily laden Roman +legionary was fixed at twenty miles; but on this +afternoon, though only half the distance had +been accomplished, the silver trumpets blared +out their welcome news that a camp was to be +formed. As the men broke their ranks, the +reason of their light march was announced by +the decurions. It was the birthday of Geta, the +younger son of the Emperor, and in his honour +there would be games and a double ration of +wine. But the iron discipline of the Roman +army required that under all circumstances certain +duties should be performed, and foremost +among them that the camp should be made secure. +Laying down their arms in the order of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +their ranks, the soldiers seized their spades and +axes, and worked rapidly and joyously until +sloping vallum and gaping fossa girdled them +round, and gave them safe refuge against a +night attack. Then in noisy, laughing, gesticulating +crowds they gathered in their thousands +round the grassy arena where the sports were +to be held. A long green hill-side sloped down +to a level plain, and on this gentle incline the +army lay watching the strife of the chosen +athletes who contended before them. They +stretched themselves in the glare of the sunshine, +their heavy tunics thrown off, and their +naked limbs sprawling, wine-cups and baskets +of fruit and cakes circling amongst them, enjoying +rest and peace as only those can to whom +it comes so rarely.</p> + +<p>The five-mile race was over, and had been +won as usual by Decurion Brennus, the crack +long-distance champion of the Herculians. +Amid the yells of the Jovians, Capellus of the +corps had carried off both the long and the +high jump. Big Brebix the Gaul had out-thrown +the long guardsman Serenus with the +fifty pound stone. Now, as the sun sank towards +the western ridge, and turned the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +Harpessus to a riband of gold, they had come +to the final of the wrestling, where the pliant +Greek, whose name is lost in the nickname of +"Python," was tried out against the bull-necked +Lictor of the military police, a hairy +Hercules, whose heavy hand had in the way of +duty oppressed many of the spectators.</p> + +<p>As the two men, stripped save for their loincloths, +approached the wrestling-ring, cheers +and counter-cheers burst from their adherents, +some favouring the Lictor for his Roman +blood, some the Greek from their own private +grudge. And then, of a sudden, the cheering +died, heads were turned towards the slope away +from the arena, men stood up and peered and +pointed, until finally, in a strange hush, the +whole great assembly had forgotten the +athletes, and were watching a single man walking +swiftly towards them down the green curve +of the hill. This huge solitary figure, with the +oaken club in his hand, the shaggy fleece flapping +from his great shoulders, and the setting +sun gleaming upon a halo of golden hair, might +have been the tutelary god of the fierce and +barren mountains from which he had issued. +Even the Emperor rose from his chair and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +gazed with open-eyed amazement at the extraordinary +being who approached them.</p> + +<p>The man, whom we already know as Theckla +the Thracian, paid no heed to the attention +which he had aroused, but strode onwards, +stepping as lightly as a deer, until he reached +the fringe of the soldiers. Amid their open +ranks he picked his way, sprang over the ropes +which guarded the arena, and advanced towards +the Emperor, until a spear at his breast +warned him that he must go no nearer. Then +he sunk upon his right knee and called out some +words in the Gothic speech.</p> + +<p>"Great Jupiter! Whoever saw such a body +of a man!" cried the Emperor. "What says +he? What is amiss with the fellow? Whence +comes he, and what is his name?"</p> + +<p>An interpreter translated the Barbarian's +answer. "He says, great Cæsar, that he is of +good blood, and sprung by a Gothic father +from a woman of the Alani. He says that his +name is Theckla, and that he would fain carry +a sword in Cæsar's service."</p> + +<p>The Emperor smiled. "Some post could +surely be found for such a man, were it but as +janitor at the Palatine Palace," said he to one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +of the Prefects. "I would fain see him walk +even as he is through the forum. He would +turn the heads of half the women in Rome. +Talk to him, Crassus. You know his speech."</p> + +<p>The Roman officer turned to the giant. +"Cæsar says that you are to come with him, and +he will make you the servant at his door."</p> + +<p>The Barbarian rose, and his fair cheeks +flushed with resentment.</p> + +<p>"I will serve Cæsar as a soldier," said he, +"but I will be house-servant to no man—not +even to him. If Cæsar would see what manner +of man I am, let him put one of his guardsmen +up against me."</p> + +<p>"By the shade of Milo this is a bold fellow!" +cried the Emperor. "How say you, Crassus? +Shall he make good his words?"</p> + +<p>"By your leave, Cæsar," said the blunt soldier, +"good swordsmen are too rare in these +days that we should let them slay each other +for sport. Perhaps if the Barbarian would +wrestle a fall——"</p> + +<p>"Excellent!" cried the Emperor. "Here is +the Python, and here Varus the Lictor, each +stripped for the bout. Have a look at them, +Barbarian, and see which you would choose.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +What does he say? He would take them both? +Nay then he is either the king of wrestlers or +the king of boasters, and we shall soon see +which. Let him have his way, and he has himself +to thank if he comes out with a broken +neck."</p> + +<p>There was some laughter when the peasant +tossed his sheep-skin mantle to the ground and, +without troubling to remove his leathern tunic, +advanced towards the two wrestlers; but it +became uproarious when with a quick spring he +seized the Greek under one arm and the Roman +under the other, holding them as in a vice. +Then with a terrific effort he tore them both +from the ground, carried them writhing and +kicking round the arena, and finally walking up +to the Emperor's throne, threw his two athletes +down in front of him. Then, bowing to +Cæsar, the huge Barbarian withdrew, and laid +his great bulk down among the ranks of the +applauding soldiers, whence he watched with +stolid unconcern the conclusion of the sports.</p> + +<p>It was still daylight, when the last event had +been decided, and the soldiers returned to the +camp. The Emperor Severus had ordered his +horse, and in the company of Crassus, his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> +favourite prefect, rode down the winding pathway +which skirts the Harpessus, chatting over +the future dispersal of the army. They had +ridden for some miles when Severus, glancing +behind him, was surprised to see a huge figure +which trotted lightly along at the very heels of +his horse.</p> + +<p>"Surely this is Mercury as well as Hercules +that we have found among the Thracian mountains," +said he with a smile. "Let us see how +soon our Syrian horses can out-distance him."</p> + +<p>The two Romans broke into a gallop, and did +not draw rein until a good mile had been covered +at the full pace of their splendid chargers. +Then they turned and looked back; but there, +some distance off, still running with a lightness +and a spring which spoke of iron muscles and +inexhaustible endurance, came the great Barbarian. +The Roman Emperor waited until the +athlete had come up to them.</p> + +<p>"Why do you follow me?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"It is my hope, Cæsar, that I may always +follow you." His flushed face as he spoke was +almost level with that of the mounted Roman.</p> + +<p>"By the god of war, I do not know where in +all the world I could find such a servant!" cried<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +the Emperor. "You shall be my own body-guard, +the one nearest to me of all."</p> + +<p>The giant fell upon his knee. "My life and +strength are yours," he said. "I ask no more +than to spend them for Cæsar."</p> + +<p>Crassus had interpreted this short dialogue. +He now turned to the Emperor.</p> + +<p>"If he is indeed to be always at your call, +Cæsar, it would be well to give the poor Barbarian +some name which your lips can frame. +Theckla is as uncouth and craggy a word as +one of his native rocks."</p> + +<p>The Emperor pondered for a moment. "If I +am to have the naming of him," said he, "then +surely I shall call him Maximus, for there is +not such a giant upon earth."</p> + +<p>"Hark you," said the Prefect. "The Emperor +has deigned to give you a Roman name, +since you have come into his service. Henceforth +you are no longer Theckla, but you are +Maximus. Can you say it after me?"</p> + +<p>"Maximin," repeated the Barbarian, trying +to catch the Roman word.</p> + +<p>The Emperor laughed at the mincing accent. +"Yes, yes, Maximin let it be. To all the world +you are Maximin, the body-guard of Severus.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +When we have reached Rome, we will soon see +that your dress shall correspond with your +office. Meanwhile march with the guard until +you have my further orders."</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>So it came about that as the Roman army +resumed its march next day, and left behind it +the fair valley of the Harpessus, a huge recruit, +clad in brown leather, with a rude sheep-skin +floating from his shoulders, marched beside the +Imperial troop. But far away in the wooden +farmhouse of a distant Macedonian valley two +old country folk wept salt tears, and prayed to +the gods for the safety of their boy who had +turned his face to Rome.</p> + +<h3>II: THE RISE OF GIANT MAXIMIN</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Exactly</span> twenty-five years had passed since +the day that Theckla the huge Thracian peasant +had turned into Maximin the Roman +guardsman. They had not been good years for +Rome. Gone for ever were the great Imperial +days of the Hadrians and the Trajans. Gone +also the golden age of the two Antonines, when +the highest were for once the most worthy and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +most wise. It had been an epoch of weak and +cruel men. Severus, the swarthy African, a +stark grim man had died in far away York, +after fighting all the winter with the Caledonian +Highlanders—a race who have ever +since worn the martial garb of the Romans. +His son, known only by his slighting nickname +of Caracalla, had reigned during six years of +insane lust and cruelty, before the knife of an +angry soldier avenged the dignity of the Roman +name. The nonentity Macrinus had filled the +dangerous throne for a single year before he +also met a bloody end, and made room for the +most grotesque of all monarchs, the unspeakable +Heliogabalus with his foul mind and his +painted face. He in turn was cut to pieces +by the soldiers; and Severus Alexander, a +gentle youth, scarce seventeen years of age, +had been thrust into his place. For thirteen +years now he had ruled, striving with some +success to put some virtue and stability into +the rotting Empire, but raising many fierce +enemies as he did so—enemies whom he had +not the strength nor the wit to hold in check.</p> + +<p>And Giant Maximin—what of him? He +had carried his eight feet of manhood through<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +the lowlands of Scotland and the passes of the +Grampians. He had seen Severus pass away, +and had soldiered with his son. He had fought +in Armenia, in Dacia, and in Germany. They +had made him a centurion upon the field when +with his hands he plucked out one by one the +stockades of a northern village, and so cleared +a path for the stormers. His strength had +been the jest and the admiration of the soldiers. +Legends about him had spread through the +army, and were the common gossip round the +camp fires—of his duel with the German axe-man +on the Island of the Rhine, and of the +blow with his fist that broke the leg of a +Scythian's horse. Gradually he had won his +way upwards, until now, after quarter of a century's +service, he was tribune of the fourth +legion and superintendent of recruits for the +whole army. The young soldier who had come +under the glare of Maximin's eyes, or had been +lifted up with one huge hand while he was +cuffed by the other, had his first lesson from +him in the discipline of the service.</p> + +<p>It was nightfall in the camp of the fourth +legion upon the Gallic shore of the Rhine. +Across the moonlit water, amid the thick forests<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +which stretched away to the dim horizon, +lay the wild untamed German tribes. Down +on the river bank the light gleamed upon the +helmets of the Roman sentinels who kept guard +along the river. Far away a red point rose and +fell in the darkness—a watch-fire of the enemy +upon the further shore.</p> + +<p>Outside his tent, beside some smouldering +logs, Giant Maximin was seated, a dozen of his +officers around him. He had changed much +since the day when we first met him in the Valley +of the Harpessus. His huge frame was as +erect as ever, and there was no sign of diminution +of his strength. But he had aged none the +less. The yellow tangle of hair was gone, worn +down by the ever-pressing helmet. The fresh +young face was drawn and hardened, with austere +lines wrought by trouble and privation. +The nose was more hawk-like, the eyes more +cunning, the expression more cynical and more +sinister. In his youth, a child would have run +to his arms. Now it would shrink screaming +from his gaze. That was what twenty-five +years with the eagles had done for Theckla the +Thracian peasant.</p> + +<p>He was listening now—for he was a man of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +few words—to the chatter of his centurions. +One of them, Balbus the Sicilian, had been to +the main camp at Mainz, only four miles away, +and had seen the Emperor Alexander arrive +that very day from Rome. The rest were eager +at the news, for it was a time of unrest, and the +rumour of great changes was in the air.</p> + +<p>"How many had he with him?" asked Labienus, +a black-browed veteran from the south +of Gaul. "I'll wager a month's pay that he +was not so trustful as to come alone among his +faithful legions."</p> + +<p>"He had no great force," replied Balbus. +"Ten or twelve cohorts of the Prætorians and +a handful of horse."</p> + +<p>"Then indeed his head is in the lion's +mouth," cried Sulpicius, a hot-headed youth +from the African Pentapolis. "How was he +received?"</p> + +<p>"Coldly enough. There was scarce a shout +as he came down the line."</p> + +<p>"They are ripe for mischief," said Labienus. +"And who can wonder, when it is we soldiers +who uphold the Empire upon our spears, while +the lazy citizens at Rome reap all of our sowing. +Why cannot a soldier have what the soldier<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +gains? So long as they throw us our +denarius a day, they think that they have done +with us."</p> + +<p>"Aye," croaked a grumbling old greybeard. +"Our limbs, our blood, our lives—what do they +care so long as the Barbarians are held off, and +they are left in peace to their feastings and +their circus? Free bread, free wine, free +games—everything for the loafer at Rome. +For us the frontier guard and a soldier's fare."</p> + +<p>Maximin gave a deep laugh. "Old Plancus +talks like that," said he; "but we know that for +all the world he would not change his steel +plate for a citizen's gown. You've earned the +kennel, old hound, if you wish it. Go and gnaw +your bone and growl in peace."</p> + +<p>"Nay, I am too old for change. I will follow +the eagle till I die. And yet I had rather die +in serving a soldier master than a long-gowned +Syrian who comes of a stock where the women +are men and the men are women."</p> + +<p>There was a laugh from the circle of soldiers, +for sedition and mutiny were rife in the +camp, and even the old centurion's outbreak +could not draw a protest. Maximin raised his +great mastiff head and looked at Balbus.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Was any name in the mouths of the soldiers?" +he asked in a meaning voice.</p> + +<p>There was a hush for the answer. The sigh +of the wind among the pines and the low lapping +of the river swelled out louder in the +silence. Balbus looked hard at his commander.</p> + +<p>"Two names were whispered from rank to +rank," said he. "One was Ascenius Pollio, the +General. The other was——"</p> + +<p>The fiery Sulpicius sprang to his feet waving +a glowing brand above his head.</p> + +<p>"Maximinus!" he yelled. "Imperator Maximinus +Augustus!"</p> + +<p>Who could tell how it came about? No one +had thought of it an hour before. And now it +sprang in an instant to full accomplishment. +The shout of the frenzied young African had +scarcely rung through the darkness when from +the tents, from the watch-fires, from the sentries, +the answer came pealing back: "Ave +Maximinus! Ave Maximinus Augustus!" +From all sides men came rushing, half-clad, +wild-eyed, their eyes staring, their mouths +agape, flaming wisps of straw or flaring +torches above their heads. The giant was +caught up by scores of hands, and sat enthroned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +upon the bull-necks of the legionaries. +"To the camp!" they yelled. "To the camp! +Hail! Hail to the soldier Cæsar!"</p> + +<p>That same night Severus Alexander, the +young Syrian Emperor, walked outside his +Prætorian camp, accompanied by his friend +Licinius Probus, the Captain of the Guard. +They were talking gravely of the gloomy faces +and seditious bearing of the soldiers. A great +foreboding of evil weighed heavily upon the +Emperor's heart, and it was reflected upon the +stern bearded face of his companion.</p> + +<p>"I like it not," said he. "It is my counsel, +Cæsar, that with the first light of morning we +make our way south once more."</p> + +<p>"But surely," the Emperor answered, "I +could not for shame turn my back upon the +danger. What have they against me? How +have I harmed them that they should forget +their vows and rise upon me?"</p> + +<p>"They are like children who ask always for +something new. You heard the murmur as +you rode along the ranks. Nay, Cæsar, fly +to-morrow, and your Prætorians will see that +you are not pursued. There may be some loyal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +cohorts among the legions, and if we join +forces——"</p> + +<p>A distant shout broke in upon their conversation—a +low continued roar, like the swelling +tumult of a sweeping wave. Far down the +road upon which they stood there twinkled +many moving lights, tossing and sinking as +they rapidly advanced, whilst the hoarse tumultuous +bellowing broke into articulate words, +the same tremendous words, a thousand-fold +repeated. Licinius seized the Emperor by the +wrist and dragged him under the cover of some +bushes.</p> + +<p>"Be still, Cæsar! For your life be still!" +he whispered. "One word and we are lost!"</p> + +<p>Crouching in the darkness, they saw that +wild procession pass, the rushing, screaming +figures, the tossing arms, the bearded, distorted +faces, now scarlet and now grey, as the +brandished torches waxed or waned. They +heard the rush of many feet, the clamour of +hoarse voices, the clang of metal upon metal. +And then suddenly, above them all, they saw +a vision of a monstrous man, a huge bowed +back, a savage face, grim hawk eyes, that +looked out over the swaying shields. It was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +seen for an instant in a smoke-fringed circle +of fire, and then it had swept on into the night.</p> + +<p>"Who is he?" stammered the Emperor, +clutching at his guardsman's sleeve. "They +call him Cæsar."</p> + +<p>"It is surely Maximin the Thracian peasant." +In the darkness the Prætorian officer +looked with strange eyes at his master.</p> + +<p>"It is all over, Cæsar. Let us fly together +to your tent."</p> + +<p>But even as they went a second shout had +broken forth tenfold louder than the first. If +the one had been the roar of the oncoming +wave, the other was the full turmoil of the +tempest. Twenty thousand voices from the +camp had broken into one wild shout which +echoed through the night, until the distant Germans +round their watch-fires listened in wonder +and alarm.</p> + +<p>"Ave!" cried the voices. "Ave Maximinus +Augustus!"</p> + +<p>High upon their bucklers stood the giant, +and looked round him at the great floor of up-turned +faces below. His own savage soul was +stirred by the clamour, but only his gleaming +eyes spoke of the fire within. He waved his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +hand to the shouting soldiers as the huntsman +waves to the leaping pack. They passed him +up a coronet of oak leaves, and clashed their +swords in homage as he placed it on his head. +And then there came a swirl in the crowd before +him, a little space was cleared, and there +knelt an officer in the Prætorian garb, blood +upon his face, blood upon his bared forearm, +blood upon his naked sword. Licinius too had +gone with the tide.</p> + +<p>"Hail, Cæsar, hail!" he cried, as he bowed +his head before the giant. "I come from +Alexander. He will trouble you no more."</p> + +<h3>III: THE FALL OF GIANT MAXIMIN</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">For</span> three years the soldier Emperor had been +upon the throne. His palace had been his tent, +and his people had been the legionaries. With +them he was supreme; away from them he was +nothing. He had gone with them from one +frontier to the other. He had fought against +Dacians, Sarmatians, and once again against +the Germans. But Rome knew nothing of him, +and all her turbulence rose against a master +who cared so little for her or her opinion that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +he never deigned to set foot within her walls. +There were cabals and conspiracies against the +absent Cæsar. Then his heavy hand fell upon +them, and they were cuffed, even as the young +soldiers had been who passed under his discipline. +He knew nothing, and cared as much for +consuls, senates, and civil laws. His own will +and the power of the sword were the only +forces which he could understand. Of commerce +and the arts he was as ignorant as when +he left his Thracian home. The whole vast +Empire was to him a huge machine for producing +the money by which the legions were to +be rewarded. Should he fail to get that +money, his fellow soldiers would bear him a +grudge. To watch their interests they had +raised him upon their shields that night. If +city funds had to be plundered or temples desecrated, +still the money must be got. Such was +the point of view of Giant Maximin.</p> + +<p>But there came resistance, and all the fierce +energy of the man, all the hardness which had +given him the leadership of hard men, sprang +forth to quell it. From his youth he had lived +amidst slaughter. Life and death were cheap +things to him. He struck savagely at all who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +stood up to him, and when they hit back, he +struck more savagely still. His giant shadow +lay black across the Empire from Britain to +Syria. A strange subtle vindictiveness became +also apparent in him. Omnipotence ripened +every fault and swelled it into crime. In the +old days he had been rebuked for his roughness. +Now a sullen, dangerous anger rose +against those who had rebuked him. He sat +by the hour with his craggy chin between his +hands, and his elbows resting on his knees, +while he recalled all the misadventures, all the +vexations of his early youth, when Roman wits +had shot their little satires upon his bulk and +his ignorance. He could not write, but his son +Verus placed the names upon his tablets, and +they were sent to the Governor of Rome. Men +who had long forgotten their offence were +called suddenly to make most bloody reparation.</p> + +<p>A rebellion broke out in Africa, but was +quelled by his lieutenant. But the mere +rumour of it set Rome in a turmoil. The Senate +found something of its ancient spirit. So +did the Italian people. They would not be for +ever bullied by the legions. As Maximin approached<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +from the frontier, with the sack of +rebellious Rome in his mind, he was faced with +every sign of a national resistance. The +country-side was deserted, the farms abandoned, +the fields cleared of crops and cattle. +Before him lay the walled town of Aquileia. +He flung himself fiercely upon it, but was met +by as fierce a resistance. The walls could not +be forced, and yet there was no food in the +country round for his legions. The men were +starving and dissatisfied. What did it matter +to them who was Emperor? Maximin was no +better than themselves. Why should they call +down the curse of the whole Empire upon their +heads by upholding him? He saw their sullen +faces and their averted eyes, and he knew that +the end had come.</p> + +<p>That night he sat with his son Verus in his +tent, and he spoke softly and gently as the youth +had never heard him speak before. He had +spoken thus in old days with Paullina, the +boy's mother; but she had been dead these +many years, and all that was soft and gentle in +the big man had passed away with her. Now +her spirit seemed very near him, and his own +was tempered by its presence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I would have you go back to the Thracian +mountains," he said. "I have tried both, boy, +and I can tell you that there is no pleasure +which power can bring which can equal the +breath of the wind and the smell of the kine +upon a summer morning. Against you they +have no quarrel. Why should they mishandle +you? Keep far from Rome and the Romans. +Old Eudoxus has money, and to spare. He +awaits you with two horses outside the camp. +Make for the valley of the Harpessus, lad. It +was thence that your father came, and there +you will find his kin. Buy and stock a homestead, +and keep yourself far from the paths of +greatness and of danger. God keep you, Verus, +and send you safe to Thrace."</p> + +<p>When his son had kissed his hand and had +left him, the Emperor drew his robe around +him and sat long in thought. In his slow brain +he revolved the past—his early peaceful days, +his years with Severus, his memories of Britain, +his long campaigns, his strivings and +battlings, all leading to that mad night by the +Rhine. His fellow soldiers had loved him then. +And now he had read death in their eyes. How +had he failed them? Others he might have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +wronged, but they at least had no complaint +against him. If he had his time again, he +would think less of them and more of his +people, he would try to win love instead of +fear, he would live for peace and not for war. +If he had his time again! But there were +shuffling steps, furtive whispers, and the low +rattle of arms outside his tent. A bearded face +looked in at him, a swarthy African face that +he knew well. He laughed, and baring his arm, +he took his sword from the table beside him.</p> + +<p>"It is you, Sulpicius," said he. "You have +not come to cry 'Ave Imperator Maximin!' as +once by the camp fire. You are tired of me, +and by the gods I am tired of you, and glad to +be at the end of it. Come and have done with +it, for I am minded to see how many of you I +can take with me when I go."</p> + +<p>They clustered at the door of the tent, peeping +over each other's shoulders, and none wishing +to be the first to close with that laughing, +mocking giant. But something was pushed +forward upon a spear point, and as he saw it, +Maximin groaned and his sword sank to the +earth.</p> + +<p>"You might have spared the boy," he sobbed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +"He would not have hurt you. Have done +with it then, for I will gladly follow him."</p> + +<p>So they closed upon him and cut and stabbed +and thrust, until his knees gave way beneath +him and he dropped upon the floor.</p> + +<p>"The tyrant is dead!" they cried. "The +tyrant is dead," and from all the camp beneath +them and from the walls of the beleaguered city +the joyous cry came echoing back, "He is dead, +Maximin is dead!"</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>I sit in my study, and upon the table before +me lies a denarius of Maximin, as fresh as +when the triumvir of the Temple of Juno Moneta +sent it from the mint. Around it are +recorded his resounding titles—Imperator +Maximinus, Pontifex Maximus, Tribunitia +potestate, and the rest. In the centre is the impress +of a great craggy head, a massive jaw, +a rude fighting face, a contracted forehead. +For all the pompous roll of titles it is a peasant's +face, and I see him not as the Emperor +of Rome, but as the great Thracian boor who +strode down the hill-side on that far-distant +summer day when first the eagles beckoned +him to Rome.</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> +<h2>IX<br /> +THE RED STAR</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> house of Theodosius, the famous eastern +merchant, was in the best part of Constantinople +at the Sea Point which is near the church +of Saint Demetrius. Here he would entertain +in so princely a fashion that even the Emperor +Maurice had been known to come privately +from the neighbouring Bucoleon palace in +order to join in the revelry. On the night in +question, however, which was the fourth of +November in the year of our Lord 630, his +numerous guests had retired early, and there +remained only two intimates, both of them successful +merchants like himself, who sat with +him over their wine on the marble verandah +of his house, whence on the one side they could +see the lights of the shipping in the Sea of +Marmora, and on the other the beacons which +marked out the course of the Bosphorus. Immediately +at their feet lay a narrow strait of +water, with the low, dark loom of the Asiatic<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +hills beyond. A thin haze hid the heavens, but +away to the south a single great red star +burned sullenly in the darkness.</p> + +<p>The night was cool, the light was soothing, +and the three men talked freely, letting their +minds drift back into the earlier days when +they had staked their capital, and often their +lives, on the ventures which had built up their +present fortunes. The host spoke of his long +journeys in North Africa, the land of the +Moors; how he had travelled, keeping the blue +sea ever upon his right, until he had passed the +ruins of Carthage, and so on and ever on until +a great tidal ocean beat upon a yellow strand +before him, while on the right he could see the +high rock across the waves which marked the +Pillars of Hercules. His talk was of dark-skinned +bearded men, of lions, and of monstrous +serpents. Then Demetrius, the Cilician, +an austere man of sixty, told how he also had +built up his mighty wealth. He spoke of a +journey over the Danube and through the +country of the fierce Huns, until he and his +friends had found themselves in the mighty +forest of Germany, on the shores of the great +river which is called the Elbe. His stories<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +were of huge men, sluggish of mind, but murderous +in their cups, of sudden midnight broils +and nocturnal flights, of villages buried in +dense woods, of bloody heathen sacrifices, and +of the bears and wolves who haunted the forest +paths. So the two elder men capped each +other's stories and awoke each other's memories, +while Manuel Ducas, the young merchant +of gold and ostrich feathers, whose +name was already known all over the Levant, +sat in silence and listened to their talk. At +last, however, they called upon him also for an +anecdote, and leaning his cheek upon his elbow, +with his eyes fixed upon the great red star +which burned in the south, the younger man +began to speak.</p> + +<p>"It is the sight of that star which brings a +story into my mind," said he. "I do not know +its name. Old Lascaris the astronomer would +tell me if I asked, but I have no desire to know. +Yet at this time of the year I always look out +for it, and I never fail to see it burning in the +same place. But it seems to me that it is redder +and larger than it was.</p> + +<p>"It was some ten years ago that I made an +expedition into Abyssinia, where I traded to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +such good effect that I set forth on my return +with more than a hundred camel-loads of skins, +ivory, gold, spices, and other African produce. +I brought them to the sea-coast at Arsinoe, and +carried them up the Arabian Gulf in five of the +small boats of the country. Finally, I landed +near Saba, which is a starting-point for caravans, +and, having assembled my camels and +hired a guard of forty men from the wandering +Arabs, I set forth for Macoraba. From +this point, which is the sacred city of the idolaters +of those parts, one can always join the +large caravans which go north twice a year to +Jerusalem and the sea-coast of Syria.</p> + +<p>"Our route was a long and weary one. On +our left hand was the Arabian Gulf, lying like +a pool of molten metal under the glare of day, +but changing to blood-red as the sun sank each +evening behind the distant African coast. On +our right was a monstrous desert which extends, +so far as I know, across the whole of +Arabia and away to the distant kingdom of the +Persians. For many days we saw no sign +of life save our own long, straggling line +of laden camels with their tattered, swarthy +guardians. In these deserts the soft sand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +deadens the footfall of the animals, so that +their silent progress day after day through a +scene which never changes, and which is itself +noiseless, becomes at last like a strange dream. +Often as I rode behind my caravan, and gazed +at the grotesque figures which bore my wares +in front of me, I found it hard to believe that +it was indeed reality, and that it was I, I, +Manuel Ducas, who lived near the Theodosian +Gate of Constantinople, and shouted for the +Green at the hippodrome every Sunday afternoon, +who was there in so strange a land and +with such singular comrades.</p> + +<p>"Now and then, far out at sea, we caught +sight of the white triangular sails of the boats +which these people use, but as they are all +pirates, we were very glad to be safely upon +shore. Once or twice, too, by the water's edge +we saw dwarfish creatures—one could scarcely +say if they were men or monkeys—who burrow +for homes among the seaweed, drink the +pools of brackish water, and eat what they can +catch. These are the fish-eaters, the Ichthyophagi, +of whom old Herodotus talks—surely +the lowest of all the human race. Our Arabs +shrank from them with horror, for it is well<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +known that, should you die in the desert, these +little people will settle on you like carrion crows, +and leave not a bone unpicked. They gibbered +and croaked and waved their skinny arms at us +as we passed, knowing well that they could +swim far out to sea if we attempted to pursue +them; for it is said that even the sharks turn +with disgust from their foul bodies.</p> + +<p>"We had travelled in this way for ten days, +camping every evening at the vile wells which +offered a small quantity of abominable water. +It was our habit to rise very early and to travel +very late, but to halt during the intolerable +heat of the afternoon, when, for want of trees, +we would crouch in the shadow of a sandhill, +or, if that were wanting, behind our own +camels and merchandise, in order to escape +from the insufferable glare of the sun. On the +seventh day we were near the point where one +leaves the coast in order to strike inland to +Macoraba. We had concluded our midday +halt, and were just starting once more, the sun +still being so hot that we could hardly bear it, +when, looking up, I saw a remarkable sight. +Standing on a hillock to our right there was a +man about forty feet high, holding in his hand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +a spear which was the size of the mast of a +large ship. You look surprised, my friends, +and you can therefore imagine my feelings +when I saw such a sight. But my reason soon +told me that the object in front of me was +really a wandering Arab, whose form had +been enormously magnified by the strange distorting +effects which the hot air of the desert +is able to cause.</p> + +<p>"However, the actual apparition caused more +alarm to my companions than the imagined one +had to me, for with a howl of dismay they +shrank together into a frightened group, all +pointing and gesticulating as they gazed at the +distant figure. I then observed that the man +was not alone, but that from all the sandhills +a line of turbaned heads was gazing down upon +us. The chief of the escort came running to +me, and informed me of the cause of their terror, +which was that they recognised, by some +peculiarity in their headgear, that these men +belonged to the tribe of the Dilwas, the most +ferocious and unscrupulous of the Bedouin, +who had evidently laid an ambuscade for us at +this point with the intention of seizing our caravan. +When I thought of all my efforts in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +Abyssinia, of the length of my journey and of +the dangers and fatigues which I had endured, +I could not bear to think of this total disaster +coming upon me at the last instant and robbing +me not only of my profits, but also of my +original outlay. It was evident, however, that +the robbers were too numerous for us to attempt +to defend ourselves, and that we should +be very fortunate if we escaped with our lives. +Sitting upon a packet, therefore, I commended +my soul to our blessed Saint Helena, while I +watched with despairing eyes the stealthy and +menacing approach of the Arab robbers.</p> + +<p>"It may have been our own good fortune, or +it may have been the handsome offering of +beeswax candles—four to the pound—which I +had mentally vowed to the Blessed Helena, +but at that instant I heard a great outcry of +joy from among my own followers. Standing +up on the packet that I might have a better +view, I was overjoyed to see a long caravan—five +hundred camels at least—with a numerous +armed guard, coming along the route from +Macoraba. It is, I need not tell you, the custom +of all caravans to combine their forces +against the robbers of the desert, and with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +aid of these new-comers we had become the +stronger party. The marauders recognised it +at once, for they vanished as if their native +sands had swallowed them. Running up to the +summit of a sandhill, I was just able to catch +a glimpse of a dust-cloud whirling away across +the yellow plain, with the long necks of their +camels, the flutter of their loose garments, and +the gleam of their spears breaking out from the +heart of it. So vanished the marauders.</p> + +<p>"Presently I found, however, that I had only +exchanged one danger for another. At first I +had hoped that this new caravan might belong +to some Roman citizen, or at least to some +Syrian Christian, but I found that it was entirely +Arab. The trading Arabs who are +settled in the numerous towns of Arabia are, +of course, very much more peaceable than the +Bedouin of the wilderness, those sons of +Ishmael of whom we read in Holy Writ. But +the Arab blood is covetous and lawless, so that +when I saw several hundred of them formed in +a semi-circle round our camels, looking with +greedy eyes at my boxes of precious metals and +my packets of ostrich feathers, I feared the +worst.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The leader of the new caravan was a man +of dignified bearing and remarkable appearance. +His age I would judge to be about +forty. He had aquiline features, a noble black +beard, and eyes so luminous, so searching, and +so intense that I cannot remember in all my +wanderings to have seen any which could be +compared with them. To my thanks and salutations +he returned a formal bow, and stood +stroking his beard and looking in silence at the +wealth which had suddenly fallen into his +power. A murmur from his followers showed +the eagerness with which they awaited the +order to fall upon the plunder, and a young ruffian, +who seemed to be on intimate terms with +the leader, came to his elbow and put the desires +of his companions into words.</p> + +<p>"'Surely, oh Reverend One,' said he, 'these +people and their treasure have been delivered +into our hands. When we return with it to the +holy place, who of all the Koraish will fail to +see the finger of God which has led us?'</p> + +<p>"But the leader shook his head. 'Nay, Ali, +it may not be,' he answered. 'This man is, as I +judge, a citizen of Rome, and we may not treat +him as though he were an idolater.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'But he is an unbeliever,' cried the youth, +fingering a great knife which hung in his belt. +'Were I to be the judge, he would lose not only +his merchandise, but his life also, if he did not +accept the faith.'</p> + +<p>"The older man smiled and shook his head. +'Nay, Ali; you are too hot-headed,' said he, +'seeing that there are not as yet three hundred +faithful in the world, our hands would indeed +be full if we were to take the lives and property +of all who are not with us. Forget not, +dear lad, that charity and honesty are the very +nose-ring and halter of the true faith.'</p> + +<p>"'Among the faithful,' said the ferocious +youth.</p> + +<p>"'Nay, towards every one. It is the law of +Allah. And yet'—here his countenance darkened, +and his eyes shone with a most sinister +light—'the day may soon come when the hour +of grace is past, and woe, then, to those who +have not hearkened! Then shall the sword of +Allah be drawn, and it shall not be sheathed +until the harvest is reaped. First it shall strike +the idolaters on the day when my own people +and kinsmen, the unbelieving Koraish, shall +be scattered, and the three hundred and sixty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +idols of the Caaba thrust out upon the dung-heaps +of the town. Then shall the Caaba be +the home and temple of one God only who +brooks no rival on earth or in heaven.'</p> + +<p>"The man's followers had gathered round +him, their spears in their hands, their ardent +eyes fixed upon his face, and their dark features +convulsed with such fanatic enthusiasm +as showed the hold which he had upon their +love and respect.</p> + +<p>"'We shall be patient,' said he; 'but some +time next year, the year after, the day may +come when the great angel Gabriel shall bear +me the message that the time of words has +gone by, and that the hour of the sword has +come. We are few and weak, but if it is His +will, who can stand against us? Are you of +Jewish faith, stranger?' he asked.</p> + +<p>"I answered that I was not.</p> + +<p>"'The better for you,' he answered, with the +same furious anger in his swarthy face. 'First +shall the idolaters fall, and then the Jews, in +that they have not known those very prophets +whom they had themselves foretold. Then last +will come the turn of the Christians, who follow +indeed a true Prophet, greater than Moses<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +or Abraham, but who have sinned in that they +have confounded a creature with the Creator. +To each in turn—idolater, Jew, and Christian—the +day of reckoning will come.'</p> + +<p>"The ragamuffins behind him all shook their +spears as he spoke. There was no doubt about +their earnestness, but when I looked at their +tattered dresses and simple arms, I could not +help smiling to think of their ambitious threats, +and to picture what their fate would be upon +the day of battle before the battle-axes of our +Imperial Guards, or the spears of the heavy +cavalry of the Armenian Themes. However, +I need not say that I was discreet enough to +keep my thoughts to myself, as I had no desire +to be the first martyr in this fresh attack upon +our blessed faith.</p> + +<p>"It was now evening, and it was decided that +the two caravans should camp together—an +arrangement which was the more welcome as +we were by no means sure that we had seen +the last of the marauders. I had invited the +leader of the Arabs to have supper with me, +and after a long exercise of prayer with his followers, +he came to join me, but my attempt at +hospitality was thrown away, for he would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +not touch the excellent wine which I had unpacked +for him, nor would he eat any of my +dainties, contenting himself with stale bread, +dried dates, and water. After this meal we sat +alone by the smouldering fire, the magnificent +arch of the heavens above us of that deep, rich +blue with those gleaming, clear-cut stars which +can only be seen in that dry desert air. Our +camp lay before us, and no sound reached our +ears save the dull murmur of the voices of +our companions and the occasional shrill cry of +a jackal among the sandhills around us. Face +to face I sat with this strange man, the glow +of the fire beating upon his eager and imperious +features and reflecting from his passionate +eyes. It was the strangest vigil, and one +which will never pass from my recollection. +I have spoken with many wise and famous +men upon my travels, but never with one who +left the impression of this one.</p> + +<p>"And yet much of his talk was unintelligible +to me, though, as you are aware, I speak +Arabian like an Arab. It rose and fell in the +strangest way. Sometimes it was the babble +of a child, sometimes the incoherent raving of +a fanatic, sometimes the lofty dreams of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +prophet and philosopher. There were times +when his stories of demons, of miracles, of +dreams, and of omens, were such as an old +woman might tell to please the children of an +evening. There were others when, as he talked +with shining face of his converse with angels, +of the intentions of the Creator, and the end +of the universe, I felt as if I were in the company +of some one more than mortal, some one +who was indeed the direct messenger of the +Most High.</p> + +<p>"There were good reasons why he should +treat me with such confidence. He saw in me a +messenger to Constantinople and to the Roman +Empire. Even as Saint Paul had brought +Christianity to Europe, so he hoped that I +might carry his doctrines to my native city. +Alas! be the doctrines what they may, I fear +that I am not the stuff of which Pauls are +made. Yet he strove with all his heart during +that long Arabian night to bring me over to his +belief. He had with him a holy book, written, +as he said, from the dictation of an angel, +which he carried in tablets of bone in the nose-bag +of a camel. Some chapters of this he read +me; but, though the precepts were usually good,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +the language seemed wild and fanciful. There +were times when I could scarce keep my countenance +as I listened to him. He planned out +his future movements, and indeed, as he spoke, +it was hard to remember that he was only the +wandering leader of an Arab caravan, and not +one of the great ones of the earth.</p> + +<p>"'When God has given me sufficient power, +which will be within a few years,' said he, 'I +will unite all Arabia under my banner. Then +I will spread my doctrine over Syria and Egypt. +When this has been done, I will turn to Persia, +and give them the choice of the true faith or +the sword. Having taken Persia, it will be +easy then to overrun Asia Minor, and so to +make our way to Constantinople.'</p> + +<p>"I bit my lip to keep from laughing. 'And +how long will it be before your victorious +troops have reached the Bosphorus?' I asked.</p> + +<p>"'Such things are in the hands of God, +whose servants we are,' said he. 'It may be +that I shall myself have passed away before +these things are accomplished, but before the +days of our children are completed, all that I +have now told you will come to pass. Look at +that star,' he added, pointing to a beautiful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +clear planet above our heads. 'That is the symbol +of Christ. See how serene and peaceful it +shines, like His own teaching and the memory +of His life. Now,' he added, turning his outstretched +hand to a dusky red star upon the +horizon—the very one on which we are gazing +now—'that is my star, which tells of wrath, +of war, of a scourge upon sinners. And yet +both are indeed stars, and each does as Allah +may ordain.'</p> + +<p>"Well, that was the experience which was +called to my mind by the sight of this star to-night. +Red and angry, it still broods over the +south, even as I saw it that night in the desert. +Somewhere down yonder that man is working +and striving. He may be stabbed by some +brother fanatic or slain in a tribal skirmish. +If so, that is the end. But if he lives, there +was that in his eyes and in his presence which +tells me that Mahomet the son of Abdallah—for +that was his name—will testify in some +noteworthy fashion to the faith that is in him."</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p> +<h2>X<br /> +THE SILVER MIRROR</h2> + +<p><i><span class="smcap">Jan</span>. 3.</i>—This affair of White and Wotherspoon's +accounts proves to be a gigantic task. +There are twenty thick ledgers to be examined +and checked. Who would be a junior partner? +However, it is the first big bit of business +which has been left entirely in my hands. I +must justify it. But it has to be finished so +that the lawyers may have the result in time for +the trial. Johnson said this morning that I +should have to get the last figure out before +the twentieth of the month. Good Lord! Well, +have at it, and if human brain and nerve can +stand the strain, I'll win out at the other side. +It means office-work from ten to five, and then +a second sitting from about eight to one in the +morning. There's drama in an accountant's +life. When I find myself in the still early +hours, while all the world sleeps, hunting +through column after column for those missing +figures which will turn a respected alderman<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +into a felon, I understand that it is not +such a prosaic profession after all.</p> + +<p>On Monday I came on the first trace of defalcation. +No heavy game hunter ever got a +finer thrill when first he caught sight of the +trail of his quarry. But I look at the twenty +ledgers and think of the jungle through which +I have to follow him before I get my kill. +Hard work—but rare sport, too, in a way! I +saw the fat fellow once at a City dinner, his +red face glowing above a white napkin. He +looked at the little pale man at the end of the +table. He would have been pale too if he could +have seen the task that would be mine.</p> + +<p><i>Jan. 6.</i>—What perfect nonsense it is for +doctors to prescribe rest when rest is out of the +question! Asses! They might as well shout +to a man who has a pack of wolves at his heels +that what he wants is absolute quiet. My figures +must be out by a certain date; unless they +are so, I shall lose the chance of my lifetime, so +how on earth am I to rest? I'll take a week or +so after the trial.</p> + +<p>Perhaps I was myself a fool to go to the +doctor at all. But I get nervous and highly-strung +when I sit alone at my work at night.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> +It's not a pain—only a sort of fullness of the +head with an occasional mist over the eyes. I +thought perhaps some bromide, or chloral, or +something of the kind might do me good. But +stop work? It's absurd to ask such a thing. +It's like a long distance race. You feel queer +at first and your heart thumps and your lungs +pant, but if you have only the pluck to keep +on, you get your second wind. I'll stick to my +work and wait for my second wind. If it never +comes—all the same, I'll stick to my work. +Two ledgers are done, and I am well on in the +third. The rascal has covered his tracks well, +but I pick them up for all that.</p> + +<p><i>Jan. 9.</i>—I had not meant to go to the doctor +again. And yet I have had to. "Straining my +nerves, risking a complete breakdown, even endangering +my sanity." That's a nice sentence +to have fired off at one. Well, I'll stand the +strain and I'll take the risk, and so long as I +can sit in my chair and move a pen I'll follow +the old sinner's slot.</p> + +<p>By the way, I may as well set down here the +queer experience which drove me this second +time to the doctor. I'll keep an exact record +of my symptoms and sensations, because they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +are interesting in themselves—"a curious +psycho-physiological study," says the doctor—and +also because I am perfectly certain that +when I am through with them they will all seem +blurred and unreal, like some queer dream betwixt +sleeping and waking. So now, while they +are fresh, I will just make a note of them, if +only as a change of thought after the endless +figures.</p> + +<p>There's an old silver-framed mirror in my +room. It was given me by a friend who had a +taste for antiquities, and he, as I happen to +know, picked it up at a sale and had no notion +where it came from. It's a large thing—three +feet across and two feet high—and it leans at +the back of a side-table on my left as I write. +The frame is flat, about three inches across, +and very old; far too old for hall-marks or +other methods of determining its age. The +glass part projects, with a bevelled edge, and +has the magnificent reflecting power which is +only, as it seems to me, to be found in very old +mirrors. There's a feeling of perspective when +you look into it such as no modern glass can +ever give.</p> + +<p>The mirror is so situated that as I sit at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +table I can usually see nothing in it but the reflection +of the red window curtains. But a +queer thing happened last night. I had been +working for some hours, very much against +the grain, with continual bouts of that mistiness +of which I had complained. Again and +again I had to stop and clear my eyes. Well, +on one of these occasions I chanced to look at +the mirror. It had the oddest appearance. The +red curtains which should have been reflected +in it were no longer there, but the glass seemed +to be clouded and steamy, not on the surface, +which glittered like steel, but deep down in the +very grain of it. This opacity, when I stared +hard at it, appeared to slowly rotate this way +and that, until it was a thick white cloud swirling +in heavy wreaths. So real and solid was it, +and so reasonable was I, that I remember turning, +with the idea that the curtains were on fire. +But everything was deadly still in the room—no +sound save the ticking of the clock, no movement +save the slow gyration of that strange +woolly cloud deep in the heart of the old mirror.</p> + +<p>Then, as I looked, the mist, or smoke, or +cloud, or whatever one may call it, seemed to +coalesce and solidify at two points quite close<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +together, and I was aware, with a thrill of interest +rather than of fear, that these were two +eyes looking out into the room. A vague outline +of a head I could see—a woman's by the +hair, but this was very shadowy. Only the +eyes were quite distinct; such eyes—dark, +luminous, filled with some passionate emotion, +fury or horror, I could not say which. Never +have I seen eyes which were so full of intense, +vivid life. They were not fixed upon me, but +stared out into the room. Then as I sat erect, +passed my hand over my brow, and made a +strong conscious effort to pull myself together, +the dim head faded in the general opacity, the +mirror slowly cleared, and there were the red +curtains once again.</p> + +<p>A sceptic would say, no doubt, that I had +dropped asleep over my figures, and that my +experience was a dream. As a matter of fact, I +was never more vividly awake in my life. I +was able to argue about it even as I looked at +it, and to tell myself that it was a subjective +impression—a chimera of the nerves—begotten +by worry and insomnia. But why this particular +shape? And who is the woman, and +what is the dreadful emotion which I read in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +those wonderful brown eyes? They come between +me and my work. For the first time I +have done less than the daily tally which I had +marked out. Perhaps that is why I have had +no abnormal sensations to-night. To-morrow +I must wake up, come what may.</p> + +<p><i>Jan. 11.</i>—All well, and good progress with +my work. I wind the net, coil after coil, round +that bulky body. But the last smile may remain +with him if my own nerves break over it. +The mirror would seem to be a sort of barometer +which marks my brain pressure. Each +night I have observed that it had clouded before +I reached the end of my task.</p> + +<p>Dr. Sinclair (who is, it seems, a bit of a psychologist) +was so interested in my account +that he came round this evening to have a look +at the mirror. I had observed that something +was scribbled in crabbed old characters upon +the metal work at the back. He examined this +with a lens, but could make nothing of it. +"Sanc. X. Pal." was his final reading of it, but +that did not bring us any further. He advised +me to put it away into another room, but, +after all, whatever I may see in it is, by his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +own account, only a symptom. It is in the +cause that the danger lies. The twenty ledgers—not +the silver mirror—should be packed +away if I could only do it. I'm at the eighth +now, so I progress.</p> + +<p><i>Jan. 13.</i>—Perhaps it would have been wiser +after all if I had packed away the mirror. I +had an extraordinary experience with it last +night. And yet I find it so interesting, so fascinating, +that even now I will keep it in its +place. What on earth is the meaning of it all?</p> + +<p>I suppose it was about one in the morning, +and I was closing my books preparatory to +staggering off to bed, when I saw her there +in front of me. The stage of mistiness and development +must have passed unobserved, and +there she was in all her beauty and passion and +distress, as clear-cut as if she were really in the +flesh before me. The figure was small, but +very distinct—so much so that every feature, +and every detail of dress, are stamped in my +memory. She is seated on the extreme left of +the mirror. A sort of shadowy figure crouches +down beside her—I can dimly discern that it is +a man—and then behind them is cloud, in which +I see figures—figures which move. It is not a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +mere picture upon which I look. It is a scene +in life, an actual episode. She crouches and +quivers. The man beside her cowers down. +The vague figures make abrupt movements and +gestures. All my fears were swallowed up in +my interest. It was maddening to see so much +and not to see more.</p> + +<p>But I can at least describe the woman to the +smallest point. She is very beautiful and quite +young—not more than five-and-twenty, I +should judge. Her hair is of a very rich +brown, with a warm chestnut shade fining into +gold at the edges. A little flat-pointed cap +comes to an angle in front and is made of lace +edged with pearls. The forehead is high, too +high perhaps for perfect beauty; but one would +not have it otherwise, as it gives a touch of +power and strength to what would otherwise +be a softly feminine face. The brows are most +delicately curved over heavy eyelids, and then +come those wonderful eyes—so large, so dark, +so full of overmastering emotion, of rage and +horror, contending with a pride of self-control +which holds her from sheer frenzy! The +cheeks are pale, the lips white with agony, the +chin and throat most exquisitely rounded. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +figure sits and leans forward in the chair, +straining and rigid, cataleptic with horror. +The dress is black velvet, a jewel gleams like a +flame in the breast, and a golden crucifix +smoulders in the shadow of a fold. This is the +lady whose image still lives in the old silver +mirror. What dire deed could it be which has +left its impress there, so that now, in another +age, if the spirit of a man be but worn down +to it, he may be conscious of its presence?</p> + +<p>One other detail: On the left side of the +skirt of the black dress was, as I thought at +first, a shapeless bunch of white ribbon. Then, +as I looked more intently or as the vision defined +itself more clearly, I perceived what it +was. It was the hand of a man, clenched and +knotted in agony, which held on with a convulsive +grasp to the fold of the dress. The rest +of the crouching figure was a mere vague outline, +but that strenuous hand shone clear on +the dark background, with a sinister suggestion +of tragedy in its frantic clutch. The man +is frightened—horribly frightened. That I +can clearly discern. What has terrified him +so? Why does he grip the woman's dress? +The answer lies amongst those moving figures<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +in the background. They have brought danger +both to him and to her. The interest of +the thing fascinated me. I thought no more +of its relation to my own nerves. I stared and +stared as if in a theatre. But I could get no +further. The mist thinned. There were tumultuous +movements in which all the figures +were vaguely concerned. Then the mirror was +clear once more.</p> + +<p>The doctor says I must drop work for a day, +and I can afford to do so, for I have made good +progress lately. It is quite evident that the +visions depend entirely upon my own nervous +state, for I sat in front of the mirror for an +hour to-night, with no result whatever. My +soothing day has chased them away. I wonder +whether I shall ever penetrate what they +all mean? I examined the mirror this evening +under a good light, and besides the mysterious +inscription "Sanc. X. Pal.," I was able to discern +some signs of heraldic marks, very faintly +visible upon the silver. They must be very +ancient, as they are almost obliterated. So +far as I could make out, they were three spear-heads, +two above and one below. I will show +them to the doctor when he calls to-morrow.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Jan. 14.</i>—Feel perfectly well again, and I intend +that nothing else shall stop me until my +task is finished. The doctor was shown the +marks on the mirror and agreed that they were +armorial bearings. He is deeply interested in +all that I have told him, and cross-questioned +me closely on the details. It amuses me to notice +how he is torn in two by conflicting desires—the +one that his patient should lose his symptoms, +the other that the medium—for so he regards +me—should solve this mystery of the +past. He advised continued rest, but did not +oppose me too violently when I declared that +such a thing was out of the question until the +ten remaining ledgers have been checked.</p> + +<p><i>Jan. 17.</i>—For three nights I have had no +experiences—my day of rest has borne fruit. +Only a quarter of my task is left, but I must +make a forced march, for the lawyers are +clamouring for their material. I will give them +enough and to spare. I have him fast on a +hundred counts. When they realise what a +slippery, cunning rascal he is, I should gain +some credit from the case. False trading accounts, +false balance-sheets, dividends drawn +from capital, losses written down as profits,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +suppression of working expenses, manipulation +of petty cash—it is a fine record!</p> + +<p><i>Jan. 18.</i>—Headaches, nervous twitches, +mistiness, fullness of the temples—all the premonitions +of trouble, and the trouble came +sure enough. And yet my real sorrow is not so +much that the vision should come as that it +should cease before all is revealed.</p> + +<p>But I saw more to-night. The crouching +man was as visible as the lady whose gown he +clutched. He is a little swarthy fellow, with a +black pointed beard. He has a loose gown of +damask trimmed with fur. The prevailing +tints of his dress are red. What a fright the +fellow is in, to be sure! He cowers and shivers +and glares back over his shoulder. There is a +small knife in his other hand, but he is far too +tremulous and cowed to use it. Dimly now I +begin to see the figures in the background. +Fierce faces, bearded and dark, shape themselves +out of the mist. There is one terrible +creature, a skeleton of a man, with hollow +cheeks and eyes sunk in his head. He also has +a knife in his hand. On the right of the woman +stands a tall man, very young, with flaxen hair, +his face sullen and dour. The beautiful woman<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +looks up at him in appeal. So does the man on +the ground. This youth seems to be the arbiter +of their fate. The crouching man draws +closer and hides himself in the woman's skirts. +The tall youth bends and tries to drag her away +from him. So much I saw last night before +the mirror cleared. Shall I never know what +it leads to and whence it comes? It is not +a mere imagination, of that I am very sure. +Somewhere, some time, this scene has been +acted, and this old mirror has reflected it. But +when—where?</p> + +<p><i>Jan. 20.</i>—My work draws to a close, and it +is time. I feel a tenseness within my brain, +a sense of intolerable strain, which warns me +that something must give. I have worked myself +to the limit. But to-night should be the +last night. With a supreme effort I should finish +the final ledger and complete the case before +I rise from my chair. I will do it. I will.</p> + +<p><i>Feb. 7.</i>—I did. My God, what an experience! +I hardly know if I am strong enough yet +to set it down.</p> + +<p>Let me explain in the first instance that I +am writing this in Dr. Sinclair's private hospital +some three weeks after the last entry in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +my diary. On the night of January 20 my +nervous system finally gave way, and I remembered +nothing afterwards until I found myself +three days ago in this home of rest. And I +can rest with a good conscience. My work was +done before I went under. My figures are in +the solicitors' hands. The hunt is over.</p> + +<p>And now I must describe that last night. I +had sworn to finish my work, and so intently +did I stick to it, though my head was bursting, +that I would never look up until the last column +had been added. And yet it was fine self-restraint, +for all the time I knew that wonderful +things were happening in the mirror. +Every nerve in my body told me so. If I looked +up there was an end of my work. So I did +not look up till all was finished. Then, when at +last with throbbing temples I threw down my +pen and raised my eyes, what a sight was +there!</p> + +<p>The mirror in its silver frame was like a +stage, brilliantly lit, in which a drama was in +progress. There was no mist now. The oppression +of my nerves had wrought this amazing +clarity. Every feature, every movement, +was as clear-cut as in life. To think that I, a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> +tired accountant, the most prosaic of mankind, +with the account-books of a swindling bankrupt +before me, should be chosen of all the human +race to look upon such a scene!</p> + +<p>It was the same scene and the same figures, +but the drama had advanced a stage. The tall +young man was holding the woman in his arms. +She strained away from him and looked up at +him with loathing in her face. They had torn +the crouching man away from his hold upon +the skirt of her dress. A dozen of them were +round him—savage men, bearded men. They +hacked at him with knives. All seemed to +strike him together. Their arms rose and fell. +The blood did not flow from him—it squirted. +His red dress was dabbled in it. He threw +himself this way and that, purple upon crimson, +like an over-ripe plum. Still they hacked, +and still the jets shot from him. It was horrible—horrible! +They dragged him kicking +to the door. The woman looked over her shoulder +at him and her mouth gaped. I heard +nothing, but I knew that she was screaming. +And then, whether it was this nerve-racking +vision before me, or whether, my task finished, +all the overwork of the past weeks came in one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +crushing weight upon me, the room danced +round me, the floor seemed to sink away beneath +my feet, and I remembered no more. In +the early morning my landlady found me +stretched senseless before the silver mirror, but +I knew nothing myself until three days ago I +awoke in the deep peace of the doctor's nursing +home.</p> + +<p><i>Feb. 9.</i>—Only to-day have I told Dr. Sinclair +my full experience. He had not allowed me +to speak of such matters before. He listened +with an absorbed interest. "You don't identify +this with any well-known scene in history?" +he asked, with suspicion in his eyes. I assured +him that I knew nothing of history. "Have +you no idea whence that mirror came and to +whom it once belonged?" he continued. "Have +you?" I asked, for he spoke with meaning. +"It's incredible," said he, "and yet how else +can one explain it? The scenes which you described +before suggested it, but now it has gone +beyond all range of coincidence. I will bring +you some notes in the evening."</p> + +<p><i>Later.</i>—He has just left me. Let me set +down his words as closely as I can recall them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +He began by laying several musty volumes +upon my bed.</p> + +<p>"These you can consult at your leisure," said +he. "I have some notes here which you can +confirm. There is not a doubt that what you +have seen is the murder of Rizzio by the Scottish +nobles in the presence of Mary, which occurred +in March, 1566. Your description of +the woman is accurate. The high forehead +and heavy eyelids combined with great beauty +could hardly apply to two women. The tall +young man was her husband, Darnley. Rizzio, +says the chronicle, 'was dressed in a loose +dressing-gown of furred damask, with hose of +russet velvet.' With one hand he clutched +Mary's gown, with the other he held a dagger. +Your fierce, hollow-eyed man was Ruthven, who +was new-risen from a bed of sickness. Every +detail is exact."</p> + +<p>"But why to me?" I asked, in bewilderment. +"Why of all the human race to me?"</p> + +<p>"Because you were in the fit mental state to +receive the impression. Because you chanced +to own the mirror which gave the impression."</p> + +<p>"The mirror! You think, then, that it was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +Mary's mirror—that it stood in the room +where the deed was done?"</p> + +<p>"I am convinced that it was Mary's mirror. +She had been Queen of France. Her personal +property would be stamped with the Royal +arms. What you took to be three spear-heads +were really the lilies of France."</p> + +<p>"And the inscription?"</p> + +<p>"'Sanc. X. Pal.' You can expand it into +Sanctæ Crucis Palatium. Some one has made +a note upon the mirror as to whence it came. It +was the Palace of the Holy Cross."</p> + +<p>"Holyrood!" I cried.</p> + +<p>"Exactly. Your mirror came from Holyrood. +You have had one very singular experience, +and have escaped. I trust that you will +never put yourself into the way of having such +another."</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> +<h2>XI<br /> +THE HOME-COMING</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the spring of the year 528, a small brig +used to run as a passenger boat between Chalcedon +on the Asiatic shore and Constantinople. +On the morning in question, which was that of +the feast of Saint George, the vessel was +crowded with excursionists who were bound +for the great city in order to take part in the +religious and festive celebrations which marked +the festival of the Megalo-martyr, one of the +most choice occasions in the whole vast +hagiology of the Eastern Church. The day +was fine and the breeze light, so that the +passengers in their holiday mood were able to +enjoy without a qualm the many objects of interest +which marked the approach to the greatest +and most beautiful capital in the world.</p> + +<p>On the right, as they sped up the narrow +strait, there stretched the Asiatic shore, +sprinkled with white villages and with numerous +villas peeping out from the woods which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> +adorned it. In front of them, the Prince's +Islands, rising as green as emeralds out of the +deep sapphire blue of the Sea of Marmora, obscured +for the moment the view of the capital. +As the brig rounded these, the great city burst +suddenly upon their sight, and a murmur of +admiration and wonder rose from the crowded +deck. Tier above tier it rose, white and glittering, +a hundred brazen roofs and gilded +statues gleaming in the sun, with high over all +the magnificent shining cupola of Saint Sophia. +Seen against a cloudless sky, it was the city of +a dream—too delicate, too airily lovely for +earth.</p> + +<p>In the prow of the small vessel were two +travellers of singular appearance. The one +was a very beautiful boy, ten or twelve years +of age, swarthy, clear-cut, with dark, curling +hair and vivacious black eyes, full of intelligence +and of the joy of living. The other was +an elderly man, gaunt-faced and grey-bearded, +whose stern features were lit up by a smile as +he observed the excitement and interest with +which his young companion viewed the beautiful +distant city and the many vessels which +thronged the narrow strait.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p> + +<p>"See! see!" cried the lad. "Look at the great +red ships which sail out from yonder harbour. +Surely, your holiness, they are the greatest of +all ships in the world."</p> + +<p>The old man, who was the abbot of the monastery +of Saint Nicephorus in Antioch, laid +his hand upon the boy's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Be wary, Leon, and speak less loudly, for +until we have seen your mother we should keep +ourselves secret. As to the red galleys they are +indeed as large as any, for they are the Imperial +ships of war, which come forth from the +harbour of Theodosius. Round yonder green +point is the Golden Horn, where the merchant +ships are moored. But now, Leon, if you follow +the line of buildings past the great church, +you will see a long row of pillars fronting the +sea. It marks the Palace of the Cæsars."</p> + +<p>The boy looked at it with fixed attention. +"And my mother is there," he whispered.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Leon, your mother the Empress Theodora +and her husband the great Justinian dwell +in yonder palace."</p> + +<p>The boy looked wistfully up into the old +man's face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Are you sure, Father Luke, that my mother +will indeed be glad to see me?"</p> + +<p>The abbot turned away his face to avoid +those questioning eyes.</p> + +<p>"We cannot tell, Leon. We can only try. +If it should prove that there is no place for +you, then there is always a welcome among the +brethren of Saint Nicephorus."</p> + +<p>"Why did you not tell my mother that we +were coming, Father Luke? Why did you not +wait until you had her command?"</p> + +<p>"At a distance, Leon, it would be easy to +refuse you. An Imperial messenger would +have stopped us. But when she sees you, Leon—your +eyes, so like her own, your face, which +carries memories of one whom she loved—then, +if there be a woman's heart within her +bosom, she will take you into it. They say +that the Emperor can refuse her nothing. They +have no child of their own. There is a great +future before you, Leon. When it comes, do +not forget the poor brethren of Saint Nicephorus, +who took you in when you had no +friend in the world."</p> + +<p>The old abbot spoke cheerily, but it was easy +to see from his anxious countenance that the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> +nearer he came to the capital the more doubtful +did his errand appear. What had seemed +easy and natural from the quiet cloisters of +Antioch became dubious and dark now that the +golden domes of Constantinople glittered so +close at hand. Ten years before, a wretched +woman, whose very name was an offence +throughout the eastern world, where she was as +infamous for her dishonour as famous for her +beauty, had come to the monastery gate, and +had persuaded the monks to take charge of her +infant son, the child of her shame. There he +had been ever since. But she, Theodora, the +harlot, returning to the capital, had by the +strangest turn of fortune's wheel caught the +fancy and finally the enduring love of Justinian +the heir to the throne. Then on the +death of his uncle Justin, the young man had +become the greatest monarch upon the earth, +and raised Theodora to be not only his wife and +Empress, but to be absolute ruler with powers +equal to and independent of his own. And she, +the polluted one, had risen to the dignity, had +cut herself sternly away from all that related +to her past life, and had shown signs already +of being a great Queen, stronger and wiser<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +than her husband, but fierce, vindictive, and +unbending, a firm support to her friends, but a +terror to her foes. This was the woman to +whom the Abbot Luke of Antioch was bringing +Leon, her forgotten son. If ever her mind +strayed back to the days when, abandoned by +her lover Ecebolus, the Governor of the +African Pentapolis, she had made her way on +foot through Asia Minor, and left her infant +with the monks, it was only to persuade herself +that the brethren cloistered far from the world +would never identify Theodora the Empress +with Theodora the dissolute wanderer, and that +the fruits of her sin would be for ever concealed +from her Imperial husband.</p> + +<p>The little brig had now rounded the point of +the Acropolis, and the long blue stretch of the +Golden Horn lay before it. The high wall of +Theodosius lined the whole harbour, but a narrow +verge of land had been left between it and +the water's edge to serve as a quay. The vessel +ran alongside near the Neorion Gate, and +the passengers, after a short scrutiny from the +group of helmeted guards who lounged beside +it, were allowed to pass through into the great +city.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p> + +<p>The abbot, who had made several visits to +Constantinople upon the business of his monastery, +walked with the assured step of one who +knows his ground; while the boy, alarmed and +yet pleased by the rush of people, the roar and +clatter of passing chariots, and the vista of +magnificent buildings, held tightly to the loose +gown of his guide, while staring eagerly about +him in every direction. Passing through the +steep and narrow streets which led up from the +water, they emerged into the open space which +surrounds the magnificent pile of Saint Sophia, +the great church begun by Constantine, hallowed +by Saint Chrysostom, and now the seat +of the Patriarch, and the very centre of the +Eastern Church. Only with many crossings +and genuflections did the pious abbot succeed +in passing the revered shrine of his religion, +and hurried on to his difficult task.</p> + +<p>Having passed Saint Sophia, the two travellers +crossed the marble-paved Augusteum, +and saw upon their right the gilded gates of +the hippodrome through which a vast crowd of +people was pressing, for though the morning +had been devoted to the religious ceremony, the +afternoon was given over to secular festivities.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> +So great was the rush of the populace that the +two strangers had some difficulty in disengaging +themselves from the stream and reaching +the huge arch of black marble which formed +the outer gate of the palace. Within they +were fiercely ordered to halt by a gold-crested +and magnificent sentinel who laid his shining +spear across their breasts until his superior +officer should give them permission to pass. +The abbot had been warned, however, that all +obstacles would give way if he mentioned the +name of Basil the eunuch, who acted as chamberlain +of the palace and also as Parakimomen—a +high office which meant that he slept at the +door of the Imperial bed-chamber. The charm +worked wonderfully, for at the mention of that +potent name the Protosphathaire, or Head of +the Palace Guards, who chanced to be upon +the spot, immediately detached one of his soldiers +with instructions to convoy the two +strangers into the presence of the chamberlain.</p> + +<p>Passing in succession a middle guard and an +inner guard, the travellers came at last into the +palace proper, and followed their majestic guide +from chamber to chamber, each more wonderful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +than the last. Marbles and gold, velvet and +silver, glittering mosaics, wonderful carvings, +ivory screens, curtains of Armenian tissue and +of Indian silk, damask from Arabia, and amber +from the Baltic—all these things merged themselves +in the minds of the two simple provincials, +until their eyes ached and their senses +reeled before the blaze and the glory of this, the +most magnificent of the dwellings of man. +Finally, a pair of curtains, crusted with, gold, +were parted, and their guide handed them over +to a negro eunuch who stood within. A heavy, +fat, brown-skinned man, with a large, flabby, +hairless face, was pacing up and down the +small apartment, and he turned upon them as +they entered with an abominable and threatening +smile. His loose lips and pendulous cheeks +were those of a gross old woman, but above +them there shone a pair of dark malignant eyes, +full of fierce intensity of observation and judgment.</p> + +<p>"You have entered the palace by using my +name," he said. "It is one of my boasts that +any of the populace can approach me in this +way. But it is not fortunate for those who +take advantage of it without due cause."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +Again he smiled a smile which made the frightened +boy cling tightly to the loose serge skirts +of the abbot.</p> + +<p>But the ecclesiastic was a man of courage. +Undaunted by the sinister appearance of the +great chamberlain, or by the threat which lay +in his words, he laid his hand upon his young +companion's shoulder and faced the eunuch +with a confident smile.</p> + +<p>"I have no doubt, your excellency," said he, +"that the importance of my mission has given +me the right to enter the palace. The only +thing which troubles me is whether it may not +be so important as to forbid me from broaching +it to you, or indeed, to anybody save the Empress +Theodora, since it is she only whom it +concerns."</p> + +<p>The eunuch's thick eyebrows bunched together +over his vicious eyes.</p> + +<p>"You must make good those words," he said. +"If my gracious master—the ever-glorious +Emperor Justinian—does not disdain to take +me into his most intimate confidence in all +things, it would be strange if there were any +subject within your knowledge which I might +not hear. You are, as I gather from your garb<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +and bearing, the abbot of some Asiatic monastery?"</p> + +<p>"You are right, your excellency, I am the +Abbot of the Monastery of St. Nicephorus in +Antioch. But I repeat that I am assured that +what I have to say is for the ear of the Empress +Theodora only."</p> + +<p>The eunuch was evidently puzzled, and his +curiosity aroused by the old man's persistence. +He came nearer, his heavy face thrust forward, +his flabby brown hands, like two sponges, +resting upon the table of yellow jasper before +him.</p> + +<p>"Old man," said he, "there is no secret which +concerns the Empress which may not be told to +me. But if you refuse to speak, it is certain +that you will never see her. Why should I admit +you, unless I know your errand? How +should I know that you are not a Manichean +heretic with a poniard in your bosom, longing +for the blood of the mother of the Church?"</p> + +<p>The abbot hesitated no longer. "If there be +a mistake in the matter, then on your head be +it," said he. "Know then that this lad Leon +is the son of Theodora the Empress, left by her +in our monastery within a month of his birth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +ten years ago. This papyrus which I hand you +will show you that what I say is beyond all +question or doubt."</p> + +<p>The eunuch Basil took the paper, but his eyes +were fixed upon the boy, and his features +showed a mixture of amazement at the news +that he had received, and of cunning speculation +as to how he could turn it to profit.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, he is the very image of the Empress," +he muttered; and then, with sudden suspicion, +"Is it not the chance of this likeness +which has put the scheme into your head, old +man?"</p> + +<p>"There is but one way to answer that," said +the abbot. "It is to ask the Empress herself +whether what I say is not true, and to give her +the glad tidings that her boy is alive and well."</p> + +<p>The tone of confidence, together with the +testimony of the papyrus, and the boy's beautiful +face, removed the last shadow of doubt +from the eunuch's mind. Here was a great +fact; but what use could be made of it? Above +all, what advantage could he draw from it? +He stood with his fat chin in his hand, turning +it over in his cunning brain.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Old man," said he at last, "to how many +have you told this secret?"</p> + +<p>"To no one in the whole world," the other +answered. "There is Deacon Bardas at the +monastery and myself. No one else knows anything."</p> + +<p>"You are sure of this?"</p> + +<p>"Absolutely certain."</p> + +<p>The eunuch had made up his mind. If he +alone of all men in the palace knew of this +event, he would have a powerful hold over his +masterful mistress. He was certain that Justinian +the Emperor knew nothing of this. It +would be a shock to him. It might even alienate +his affections from his wife. She might care +to take precautions to prevent him from knowing. +And if he, Basil the eunuch, was her confederate +in those precautions, then how very +close it must draw him to her. All this flashed +through his mind as he stood, the papyrus in +his hand, looking at the old man and the boy.</p> + +<p>"Stay here," said he. "I will be with you +again." With a swift rustle of his silken robes +he swept from the chamber.</p> + +<p>A few minutes had elapsed when a curtain +at the end of the room was pushed aside, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> +the eunuch, reappearing, held it back, doubling +his unwieldy body into a profound obeisance as +he did so. Through the gap came a small alert +woman, clad in golden tissue, with a loose outer +mantle and shoes of the Imperial purple. That +colour alone showed that she could be none +other than the Empress; but the dignity of her +carriage, the fierce authority of her magnificent +dark eyes, and the perfect beauty of her +haughty face, all proclaimed that it could only +be that of Theodora who, in spite of her lowly +origin, was the most majestic as well as the +most maturely lovely of all the women in her +kingdom. Gone now were the buffoon tricks +which the daughter of Acacius the bearward +had learned in the amphitheatre; gone too was +the light charm of the wanton, and what was +left was the worthy mate of a great king, the +measured dignity of one who was every inch +an empress.</p> + +<p>Disregarding the two men, Theodora walked +up to the boy, placed her two white hands upon +his shoulders, and looked with a long questioning +gaze, a gaze which began with hard +suspicion and ended with tender recognition, +into those large lustrous eyes which were the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +very reflection of her own. At first the sensitive +lad was chilled by the cold intent question +of the look; but as it softened, his own spirit +responded, until suddenly, with a cry of +"Mother! Mother!" he cast himself into her +arms, his hands locked round her neck, his face +buried in her bosom. Carried away by the sudden +natural outburst of emotion, her own arms +tightened round the lad's figure, and she +strained him for an instant to her heart. Then, +the strength of the Empress gaining instant +command over the temporary weakness of the +mother, she pushed him back from her, and +waved that they should leave her to herself. +The slaves in attendance hurried the two +visitors from the room. Basil the eunuch lingered, +looking down at his mistress, who had +thrown herself upon a damask couch, her lips +white and her bosom heaving with the tumult +of her emotion. She glanced up and met the +chancellor's crafty gaze, her woman's instinct +reading the threat that lurked within it.</p> + +<p>"I am in your power," she said. "The Emperor +must never know of this."</p> + +<p>"I am your slave," said the eunuch, with his +ambiguous smile. "I am an instrument in your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> +hand. If it is your will that the Emperor +should know nothing, then who is to tell him?"</p> + +<p>"But the monk, the boy. What are we to +do?"</p> + +<p>"There is only one way for safety," said the +eunuch.</p> + +<p>She looked at him with horrified eyes. His +spongy hands were pointing down to the floor. +There was an underground world to this beautiful +palace, a shadow that was ever close to +the light, a region of dimly-lit passages, of +shadowed corners, of noiseless, tongueless +slaves, of sudden sharp screams in the darkness. +To this the eunuch was pointing.</p> + +<p>A terrible struggle rent her breast. The +beautiful boy was hers, flesh of her flesh, +bone of her bone. She knew it beyond all question +or doubt. It was her one child, and her +whole heart went out to him. But Justinian! +She knew the Emperor's strange limitations. +Her career in the past was forgotten. He had +swept it all aside by special Imperial decree +published throughout the Empire, as if she +were new-born through the power of his will, +and her association with his person. But they +were childless, and this sight of one which was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +not his own would cut him to the quick. He +could dismiss her infamous past from his mind, +but if it took the concrete shape of this beautiful +child, then how could he wave it aside as if +it had never been? All her instincts and her +intimate knowledge of the man told her that +even her charm and her influence might fail +under such circumstances to save her from +ruin. Her divorce would be as easy to him as +her elevation had been. She was balanced upon +a giddy pinnacle, the highest in the world, and +yet the higher the deeper the fall. Everything +that earth could give was now at her feet. Was +she to risk the losing of it all—for what? For +a weakness which was unworthy of an Empress, +for a foolish new-born spasm of love, +for that which had no existence within her in +the morning? How could she be so foolish as +to risk losing such a substance for such a +shadow?</p> + +<p>"Leave it to me," said the brown watchful +face above her.</p> + +<p>"Must it be—death?"</p> + +<p>"There is no real safety outside. But if your +heart is too merciful, then by the loss of sight +and speech——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span></p> + +<p>She saw in her mind the white-hot iron approaching +those glorious eyes, and she shuddered +at the thought.</p> + +<p>"No, no! Better death than that!"</p> + +<p>"Let it be death then. You are wise, great +Empress, for there only is real safety and assurance +of silence."</p> + +<p>"And the monk?"</p> + +<p>"Him also."</p> + +<p>"But the Holy Synod! He is a tonsured +priest. What would the Patriarch do?"</p> + +<p>"Silence his babbling tongue. Then let them +do what they will. How are we of the palace +to know that this conspirator, taken with a dagger +in his sleeve, is really what he says?"</p> + +<p>Again she shuddered and shrank down +among the cushions.</p> + +<p>"Speak not of it, think not of it," said the +eunuch. "Say only that you leave it in my +hands. Nay, then, if you cannot say it, do but +nod your head, and I take it as your signal."</p> + +<p>In that instant there flashed before Theodora's +mind a vision of all her enemies, of all +those who envied her rise, of all whose hatred +and contempt would rise into a clamour of delight +could they see the daughter of the bearward<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +hurled down again into that abyss from +which she had been dragged. Her face hardened, +her lips tightened, her little hands +clenched in the agony of her thought.</p> + +<p>"Do it!" she said.</p> + +<p>In an instant, with a terrible smile, the +messenger of death hurried from the room. +She groaned aloud, and buried herself yet +deeper amid the silken cushions, clutching them +frantically with convulsed and twitching hands.</p> + +<p>The eunuch wasted no time, for this deed, +once done, he became—save for that insignificant +monk in Asia Minor, whose fate would +soon be sealed—the only sharer of Theodora's +secret, and therefore the only person who could +curb and bend that imperious nature. Hurrying +into the chamber where the visitors were +waiting, he gave a sinister signal, only too well +known in those iron days. In an instant the +black mutes in attendance seized the old man +and the boy, pushing them swiftly down a +passage and into a meaner portion of the palace, +where the heavy smell of luscious cooking +proclaimed the neighbourhood of the kitchens. +A side corridor led to a heavily-barred iron +door, and this in turn opened upon a steep flight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +of stone steps, feebly illuminated by the glimmer +of wall lamps. At the head and foot stood +a mute sentinel like an ebony statue, and below, +along the dusky and forbidding passages +from which the cells opened, a succession of +niches in the wall were occupied by a similar +guardian. The unfortunate visitors were +dragged brutally down a number of stone-flagged +and dismal corridors until they descended +another long stair which led so deeply +into the earth that the damp feeling in the +heavy air and the drip of water all round +showed that they had come down to the level of +the sea. Groans and cries, like those of sick +animals, from the various grated doors which +they passed showed how many there were who +spent their whole lives in this humid and poisonous +atmosphere.</p> + +<p>At the end of this lowest passage was a door +which opened into a single large vaulted room. +It was devoid of furniture, but in the centre +was a large and heavy wooden board clamped +with iron. This lay upon a rude stone parapet, +engraved with inscriptions beyond the wit of +the eastern scholars, for this old well dated +from a time before the Greeks founded Byzantium,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +when men of Chaldea and Phœnicia built +with huge unmortared blocks, far below the +level of the town of Constantine. The door +was closed, and the eunuch beckoned to the +slaves that they should remove the slab which +covered the well of death. The frightened boy +screamed and clung to the abbot, who, ashy-pale +and trembling, was pleading hard to melt +the heart of the ferocious eunuch.</p> + +<p>"Surely, surely, you would not slay the innocent +boy!" he cried. "What has he done? +Was it his fault that he came here? I alone—I +and Deacon Bardas—are to blame. Punish +us, if some one must indeed be punished. +We are old. It is to-day or to-morrow with us. +But he is so young and so beautiful, with all his +life before him. Oh, sir! oh, your excellency, +you would not have the heart to hurt him!"</p> + +<p>He threw himself down and clutched at the +eunuch's knees, while the boy sobbed piteously +and cast horror-stricken eyes at the black slaves +who were tearing the wooden slab from the ancient +parapet beneath. The only answer which +the chamberlain gave to the frantic pleadings +of the abbot was to take a stone which lay on +the coping of the well and toss it in. It could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> +be heard clattering against the old, damp, mildewed +walls, until it fell with a hollow boom +into some far distant subterranean pool. Then +he again motioned with his hands, and the black +slaves threw themselves upon the boy and +dragged him away from his guardian. So +shrill was his clamour that no one heard the approach +of the Empress. With a swift rush she +had entered the room, and her arms were round +her son.</p> + +<p>"It shall not be! It cannot be!" she cried. +"No, no, my darling! my darling! they shall do +you no hurt. I was mad to think of it—mad +and wicked to dream of it. Oh, my sweet boy! +to think that your mother might have had your +blood upon her head!"</p> + +<p>The eunuch's brows were gathered together +at this failure of his plans, at this fresh example +of feminine caprice.</p> + +<p>"Why kill them, great lady, if it pains your +gracious heart?" said he. "With a knife and +a branding-iron they can be disarmed for ever."</p> + +<p>She paid no attention to his words. "Kiss +me, Leon!" she cried. "Just once let me feel +my own child's soft lips rest upon mine. Now +again! No, no more, or I shall weaken for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +what I have still to say and still to do. Old +man, you are very near a natural grave, and I +cannot think from your venerable aspect that +words of falsehood would come readily to your +lips. You have indeed kept my secret all these +years, have you not?"</p> + +<p>"I have in very truth, great Empress. I +swear to you by Saint Nicephorus, patron of +our house, that save old Deacon Bardas, there +is none who knows."</p> + +<p>"Then let your lips still be sealed. If you +have kept faith in the past, I see no reason why +you should be a babbler in the future. And +you, Leon"—she bent her wonderful eyes with +a strange mixture of sternness and of love upon +the boy, "can I trust you? Will you keep a +secret which could never help you, but would +be the ruin and downfall of your mother?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother, I would not hurt you! I swear +that I will be silent."</p> + +<p>"Then I trust you both. Such provision will +be made for your monastery and for your own +personal comforts as will make you bless the +day you came to my palace. Now you may go. +I wish never to see you again. If I did, you +might find me in a softer mood, or in a harder,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +and the one would lead to my undoing, the other +to yours. But if by whisper or rumour I have +reason to think that you have failed me, then +you and your monks and your monastery will +have such an end as will be a lesson for ever to +those who would break faith with their Empress."</p> + +<p>"I will never speak," said the old abbot; +"neither will Deacon Bardas; neither will Leon. +For all three I can answer. But there are +others—these slaves, the chancellor. We may +be punished for another's fault."</p> + +<p>"Not so," said the Empress, and her eyes +were like flints. "These slaves are voiceless; +nor have they any means to tell those secrets +which they know. As to you, Basil——" She +raised her white hand with the same deadly +gesture which he had himself used so short a +time before. The black slaves were on him +like hounds on a stag.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my gracious mistress, dear lady, what +is this? What is this? You cannot mean it!" +he screamed, in his high, cracked voice. "Oh, +what have I done? Why should I die?"</p> + +<p>"You have turned me against my own. You +have goaded me to slay my own son. You have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> +intended to use my secret against me. I read +it in your eyes from the first. Cruel, murderous +villain, taste the fate which you have yourself +given to so many others. This is your +doom. I have spoken."</p> + +<p>The old man and the boy hurried in horror +from the vault. As they glanced back they saw +the erect, inflexible, shimmering, gold-clad figure +of the Empress. Beyond they had a +glimpse of the green-scummed lining of the +well, and of the great red open mouth of the +eunuch, as he screamed and prayed while every +tug of the straining slaves brought him one +step nearer to the brink. With their hands +over their ears they rushed away, but even so +they heard that last woman-like shriek, and +then the heavy plunge far down in the dark +abysses of the earth.</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p> +<h2>XII<br /> +A POINT OF CONTACT</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">A curious</span> train of thought is started when +one reflects upon those great figures who have +trod the stage of this earth, and actually played +their parts in the same act, without ever coming +face to face, or even knowing of each +other's existence. Baber, the Great Mogul, +was, for example, overrunning India at the +very moment when Hernando Cortez was overrunning +Mexico, and yet the two could never +have heard of each other. Or, to take a more +supreme example, what could the Emperor +Augustus Cæsar know of a certain Carpenter's +shop wherein there worked a dreamy-eyed boy +who was destined to change the whole face of +the world? It may be, however, that sometimes +these great contemporary forces did approach, +touch, and separate—each unaware of the true +meaning of the other. So it was in the instance +which is now narrated.</p> + +<p>It was evening in the port of Tyre, some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> +eleven hundred years before the coming of +Christ. The city held, at that time, about a +quarter of a million of inhabitants, the majority +of whom dwelt upon the mainland, where +the buildings of the wealthy merchants, each in +its own tree-girt garden, extended for seven +miles along the coast. The great island, however, +from which the town got its name, lay +out some distance from the shore, and contained +within its narrow borders the more +famous of the temples and public buildings. +Of these temples the chief was that of Melmoth, +which covered with its long colonnades +the greater part of that side of the island which +looked down upon the Sidonian port, so called +because only twenty miles away the older city +of Sidon maintained a constant stream of traffic +with its rising offshoot.</p> + +<p>Inns were not yet in vogue, but the poorer +traveller found his quarters with hospitable +citizens, while men of distinction were frequently +housed in the annex of the temples, +where the servants of the priests attended to +their wants. On that particular evening there +stood in the portico of the temple of Melmoth +two remarkable figures who were the centre<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +of observation for a considerable fringe +of Phœnician idlers. One of these men was +clearly by his face and demeanour a great +chieftain. His strongly-marked features were +those of a man who had led an adventurous life, +and were suggestive of every virile quality from +brave resolve to desperate execution. His broad, +high brow and contemplative eyes showed that +he was a man of wisdom as well as of valour. +He was clad, as became a Greek nobleman +of the period, with a pure white linen tunic, +a gold-studded belt supporting a short sword, +and a purple cloak. The lower legs were bare, +and the feet covered by sandals of red leather, +while a cap of white cloth was pushed back +upon his brown curls, for the heat of the day +was past and the evening breeze most welcome.</p> + +<p>His companion was a short, thick-set man, +bull-necked and swarthy, clad in some dusky +cloth which gave him a sombre appearance relieved +only by the vivid scarlet of his woollen +cap. His manner towards his comrade was +one of deference, and yet there was in it also +something of that freshness and frankness +which go with common dangers and a common +interest.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Be not impatient, sire," he was saying. +"Give me two days, or three at the most, and +we shall make as brave a show at the muster as +any. But, indeed, they would smile if they +saw us crawl up to Tenedos with ten missing +oars and the mainsail blown into rags."</p> + +<p>The other frowned and stamped his foot +with anger.</p> + +<p>"We should have been there now had it not +been for this cursed mischance," said he. +"Aeolus played us a pretty trick when he sent +such a blast out of a cloudless sky."</p> + +<p>"Well, sire, two of the Cretan galleys +foundered, and Trophimes, the pilot, swears +that one of the Argos ships was in trouble. +Pray Zeus that it was not the galley of Menelaus. +We shall not be the last at the muster."</p> + +<p>"It is well that Troy stands a good ten miles +from the sea, for if they came out at us with +a fleet they might have us at a disadvantage. +We had no choice but to come here and refit, +yet I shall have no happy hour until I see the +white foam from the lash of our oars once +more. Go, Seleucas, and speed them all you +may."</p> + +<p>The officer bowed and departed, while the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +chieftain stood with his eyes fixed upon his +great dismantled galley over which the riggers +and carpenters were swarming. Further out +in the roadstead lay eleven other smaller galleys, +waiting until their wounded flagship +should be ready for them. The sun, as it shone +upon them, gleamed upon hundreds of bronze +helmets and breastplates, telling of the warlike +nature of the errand upon which they were +engaged. Save for them the port was filled +with bustling merchant ships taking in cargoes +or disgorging them upon the quays. At the +very feet of the Greek chieftain three broad +barges were moored, and gangs of labourers +with wooden shovels were heaving out the +mussels brought from Dor, destined to supply +the famous Tyrian dye-works which adorn the +most noble of all garments. Beside them was +a tin ship from Britain, and the square boxes +of that precious metal, so needful for the making +of bronze, were being passed from hand to +hand to the waiting waggons. The Greek found +himself smiling at the uncouth wonder of a +Cornishman who had come with his tin, and +who was now lost in amazement as he stared at +the long colonnades of the Temple of Melmoth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +and the high front of the Shrine of Ashtaroth +behind it. Even as he gazed some of his ship-mates +passed their hands through his arms and +led him along the quay to a wine-shop, as being +a building much more within his comprehension. +The Greek, still smiling, was turning +on his heels to return to the Temple, when one +of the clean-shaven priests of Baal came towards +him.</p> + +<p>"It is rumoured, sire," said he, "that you +are on a very distant and dangerous venture. +Indeed, it is well known from the talk of your +soldiers what it is that you have on hand."</p> + +<p>"It is true," said the Greek, "that we have a +hard task before us. But it would have been +harder to bide at home and to feel that the +honour of a leader of the Argives had been +soiled by this dog from Asia."</p> + +<p>"I hear that all Greece has taken up the +quarrel."</p> + +<p>"Yes, there is not a chief from Thessaly to +the Malea who has not called out his men, and +there were twelve hundred galleys in the harbour +of Aulis."</p> + +<p>"It is a great host," said the priest. "But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +have ye any seers or prophets among ye who +can tell what will come to pass?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, we had one such, Calchas his name. +He has said that for nine years we shall strive, +and only on the tenth will the victory come."</p> + +<p>"That is but cold comfort," said the priest. +"It is, indeed, a great prize which can be worth +ten years of a man's life."</p> + +<p>"I would give," the Greek answered, "not +ten years but all my life if I could but lay proud +Ilium in ashes and carry back Helen to her +palace on the hill of Argos."</p> + +<p>"I pray Baal, whose priest I am, that you +may have good fortune," said the Phœnician. +"I have heard that these Trojans are stout soldiers, +and that Hector, the son of Priam, is a +mighty leader."</p> + +<p>The Greek smiled proudly.</p> + +<p>"They must be stout and well-fed also," said +he, "if they can stand the brunt against the +long-haired Argives with such captains as Agamemnon, +the son of Atreus from golden +Mycenæ, or Achilles, son of Peleus, with his +myrmidons. But these things are on the knees +of the Fates. In the meantime, my friend, I +would fain know who these strange people are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +who come down the street, for their chieftain +has the air of one who is made for great deeds."</p> + +<p>A tall man clad in a long white robe, with a +golden fillet running through his flowing +auburn hair, was striding down the street with +the free elastic gait of one who has lived an +active life in the open. His face was ruddy and +noble, with a short, crisp beard covering a +strong, square jaw. In his clear blue eyes as +he looked at the evening sky and the busy +waters beneath him there was something of +the exaltation of the poet, while a youth walking +beside him and carrying a harp hinted at +the graces of music. On the other side of him, +however, a second squire bore a brazen shield +and a heavy spear, so that his master might +never be caught unawares by his enemies. In +his train there came a tumultuous rabble of +dark hawk-like men, armed to the teeth, and +peering about with covetous eyes at the signs +of wealth which lay in profusion around them. +They were swarthy as Arabs, and yet they +were better clad and better armed than the +wild children of the desert.</p> + +<p>"They are but barbarians," said the priest. +"He is a small king from the mountain parts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +opposite Philistia, and he comes here because +he is building up the town of Jebus, which he +means to be his chief city. It is only here that +he can find the wood, and stone, and craftsmanship +that he desires. The youth with the +harp is his son. But I pray you, chief, if you +would know what is before you at Troy, to +come now into the outer hall of the Temple with +me, for we have there a famous seer, the +prophetess Alaga who is also the priestess of +Ashtaroth. It may be that she can do for you +what she has done for many others, and send +you forth from Tyre in your hollow ships with +a better heart than you came."</p> + +<p>To the Greeks, who by oracles, omens, and +auguries were for ever prying into the future, +such a suggestion was always welcome. The +Greek followed the priest to the inner sanctuary, +where sat the famous Pythoness—a tall, +fair woman of middle age, who sat at a stone +table upon which was an abacus or tray filled +with sand. She held a style of chalcedony, and +with this she traced strange lines and curves +upon the smooth surface, her chin leaning upon +her other hand and her eyes cast down. As the +chief and the priest approached her she did<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +not look up, but she quickened the movements +of her pencil, so that curve followed curve in +quick succession. Then, still with downcast +eyes, she spoke in a strange, high, sighing voice +like wind amid the trees.</p> + +<p>"Who, then, is this who comes to Alaga of +Tyre, the handmaiden of great Ashtaroth? +Behold I see an island to the west, and an old +man who is the father, and the great chief, and +his wife, and his son who now waits him at +home, being too young for the wars. Is this +not true?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, maiden, you have said truth," the +Greek answered.</p> + +<p>"I have had many great ones before me, but +none greater than you, for three thousand +years from now people will still talk of your +bravery and of your wisdom. They will remember +also the faithful wife at home, and the +name of the old man, your father, and of the +boy your son—all will be remembered when +the very stones of noble Sidon and royal Tyre +are no more."</p> + +<p>"Nay, say not so, Alaga!" cried the priest.</p> + +<p>"I speak not what I desire but what it is +given to me to say. For ten years you will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +strive, and then you will win, and victory will +bring rest to others, but only new troubles to +you. Ah!" The prophetess suddenly started +in violent surprise, and her hand made ever +faster markings on the sand.</p> + +<p>"What is it that ails you, Alaga?" asked the +priest.</p> + +<p>The woman had looked up with wild inquiring +eyes. Her gaze was neither for the priest +nor for the chief, but shot past them to the further +door. Looking round the Greek was +aware that two new figures had entered the +room. They were the ruddy barbarian whom +he had marked in the street, together with the +youth who bore his harp.</p> + +<p>"It is a marvel upon marvels that two such +should enter my chamber on the same day," +cried the priestess. "Have I not said that you +were the greatest that ever came, and yet behold +here is already one who is greater. For +he and his son—even this youth whom I see +before me—will also be in the minds of all men +when lands beyond the Pillars of Hercules shall +have taken the place of Phœnicia and of +Greece. Hail to you, stranger, hail! Pass on +to your work for it awaits you, and it is great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +beyond words of mine." Rising from her stool +the woman dropped her pencil upon the sand +and passed swiftly from the room.</p> + +<p>"It is over," said the priest. "Never have I +heard her speak such words."</p> + +<p>The Greek chief looked with interest at the +barbarian. "You speak Greek?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Indifferently well," said the other. "Yet I +should understand it seeing that I spent a long +year at Ziklag in the land of the Philistines."</p> + +<p>"It would seem," said the Greek, "that the +gods have chosen us both to play a part in the +world."</p> + +<p>"Stranger," the barbarian answered, "there +is but one God."</p> + +<p>"Say you so? Well, it is a matter to be +argued at some better time. But I would fain +have your name and style and what is it you +purpose to do, so that we may perchance hear +of each other in the years to come. For my +part I am Odysseus, known also as Ulysses, the +King of Ithaca, with the good Laertes as my +father and young Telemachus as my son. For +my work, it is the taking of Troy."</p> + +<p>"And my work," said the barbarian, "is the +building of Jebus, which now we call Jerusalem.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +Our ways lie separate, but it may come +back to your memory that you have crossed the +path of David, second King of the Hebrews, +together with his young son Solomon, who may +follow him upon the throne of Israel."</p> + +<p>So he turned and went forth into the darkened +streets where his spearmen were awaiting +him, while the Greek passed down to his boat +that he might see what was still to be done ere +he could set forth upon his voyage.</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span></p> +<h2>XIII<br /> +THE CENTURION</h2> + +<p>[<i>Being the fragment of a letter from Sulpicius +Balbus, Legate of the Tenth Legion, to +his uncle, Lucius Piso, in his villa near Baiae, +dated The Kalends of the month of Augustus +in the year 824 of Rome.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">I promised</span> you, my dear uncle, that I would +tell you anything of interest concerning the +siege of Jerusalem; but, indeed, these people +whom we imagined to be unwarlike have kept +us so busy that there has been little time for +letter-writing. We came to Judæa thinking +that a mere blowing of trumpets and a shout +would finish the affair, and picturing a splendid +triumph in the <i>via sacra</i> to follow, with all +the girls in Rome throwing flowers and kisses +to us. Well, we may get our triumph, and possibly +the kisses also, but I can assure you that +not even you who have seen such hard service +on the Rhine can ever have experienced a more +severe campaign than this has been. We have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> +now won the town, and to-day their temple is +burning, and the smoke sets me coughing as I +sit writing in my tent. But it has been a terrible +business, and I am sure none of us wish +to see Judæa again.</p> + +<p>In fighting the Gauls, or the Germans, you +are against brave men, animated by the love of +their country. This passion acts more, however, +upon some than others, so that the whole +army is not equally inflamed by it. These Jews, +however, besides their love of country, which +is very strong, have a desperate religious fervour, +which gives them a fury in battle such as +none of us have ever seen. They throw themselves +with a shriek of joy upon our swords +and lances, as if death were all that they desired.</p> + +<p>If one gets past your guard may Jove protect +you, for their knives are deadly, and if it comes +to a hand-to-hand grapple they are as dangerous +as wild beasts, who would claw out your +eyes or your throat. You know that our fellows +of the Tenth Legion have been, ever since +Cæsar's time, as rough soldiers as any with the +Eagles, but I can assure you that I have seen +them positively cowed by the fury of these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +fanatics. As a matter of fact we have had +least to bear, for it has been our task from the +beginning to guard the base of the peninsula +upon which this extraordinary town is built. +It has steep precipices upon all the other sides, +so that it is only on this one northern base that +fugitives could escape or a rescue come. Meanwhile, +the fifth, fifteenth, and the twelfth or +Syrian legions have done the work, together +with the auxiliaries. Poor devils! we have +often pitied them, and there have been times +when it was difficult to say whether we were +attacking the town or the town was attacking +us. They broke down our tortoises with their +stones, burned our turrets with their fire, and +dashed right through our whole camp to destroy +the supplies in the rear. If any man says +a Jew is not a good soldier, you may be sure +that he has never been in Judæa.</p> + +<p>However, all this has nothing to do with +what I took up my stylus to tell you. No doubt +it is the common gossip of the forum and of +the baths how our army, excellently handled +by the princely Titus, carried one line of wall +after the other until we had only the temple +before us. This, however, is—or was, for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> +I see it burning even as I write—a very strong +fortress. Romans have no idea of the magnificence +of this place. The temple of which +I speak is a far finer building than any we have +in Rome, and so is the Palace, built by Herod +or Agrippa, I really forget which. This temple +is two hundred paces each way, with stones so +fitted that the blade of a knife will not go between, +and the soldiers say there is gold enough +within to fill the pockets of the whole army. +This idea puts some fury into the attack, as you +can believe, but with these flames I fear a great +deal of the plunder will be lost.</p> + +<p>There was a great fight at the temple, and it +was rumoured that it would be carried by storm +to-night, so I went out on to the rising ground +whence one sees the city best. I wonder, uncle, +if in your many campaigns you have ever smelt +the smell of a large beleaguered town. The +wind was south to-night, and this terrible smell +of death came straight to our nostrils. There +were half a million people there, and every +form of disease, starvation, decomposition, +filth and horror, all pent in within a narrow +compass. You know how the lion sheds smell +behind the Circus Maximus, acid and foul. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +is like that, but there is a low, deadly, subtle +odour which lies beneath it and makes your +very heart sink within you. Such was the smell +which came up from the city to-night.</p> + +<p>As I stood in the darkness, wrapped in my +scarlet chlamys—for the evenings here are chill—I +was suddenly aware that I was not alone. +A tall, silent figure was near me, looking down +at the town even as I was. I could see in the +moonlight that he was clad as an officer, and +as I approached him I recognized that it was +Longinus, third tribune of my own legion, and +a soldier of great age and experience. He is +a strange, silent man, who is respected by all, +but understood by none, for he keeps his own +council and thinks rather than talks. As I +approached him the first flames burst from the +temple, a high column of fire, which cast a glow +upon our faces and gleamed upon our armour. +In this red light I saw that the gaunt face of +my companion was set like iron.</p> + +<p>"At last!" said he. "At last!"</p> + +<p>He was speaking to himself rather than to +me, for he started and seemed confused when +I asked him what he meant.</p> + +<p>"I have long thought that evil would come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> +to the place," said he. "Now I see that it has +come, and so I said 'At last!'"</p> + +<p>"For that matter," I answered, "we have all +seen that evil would come to the place, since +it has again and again defied the authority of +the Cæsars."</p> + +<p>He looked keenly at me with a question in +his eyes. Then he said:</p> + +<p>"I have heard, sir, that you are one who has +a full sympathy in the matter of the gods, believing +that every man should worship according +to his own conscience and belief."</p> + +<p>I answered that I was a Stoic of the school +of Seneca, who held that this world is a small +matter and that we should care little for its +fortunes, but develop within ourselves a contempt +for all but the highest.</p> + +<p>He smiled in grim fashion at this.</p> + +<p>"I have heard," said he, "that Seneca died +the richest man in all Nero's Empire, so he +made the best of this world in spite of his +philosophy."</p> + +<p>"What are your own beliefs?" I asked. "Are +you, perhaps, one who has fathomed the mysteries +of Isis, or been admitted to the Society of +Mythra?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Have you ever heard," he asked, "of the +Christians?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said I. "There were some slaves and +wandering men in Rome who called themselves +such. They worshipped, so far as I could +gather, some man who died over here in Judæa. +He was put to death, I believe, in the time of +Tiberius."</p> + +<p>"That is so," he answered. "It was at the +time when Pilate was procurator—Pontius +Pilate, the brother of old Lucius Pilate, who +had Egypt in the time of Augustus. Pilate +was of two minds in the matter, but the mob +was as wild and savage as these very men that +we have been contending with. Pilate tried to +put them off with a criminal, hoping that so +long as they had blood they would be satisfied. +But they chose the other, and he was not strong +enough to withstand them. Ah! it was a pity—a +sad pity!"</p> + +<p>"You seem to know a good deal about it," +said I.</p> + +<p>"I was there," said the man simply, and became +silent, while we both looked down at the +huge column of flame from the burning temple. +As it flared up we could see the white tents of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> +the army and all the country round. There +was a low hill just outside the city, and my +companion pointed to it.</p> + +<p>"That was where it happened," said he. "I +forget the name of the place, but in those days—it +was more than thirty years ago—they put +their criminals to death there. But He was no +criminal. It is always His eyes that I think +of—the look in His eyes."</p> + +<p>"What about the eyes, then?"</p> + +<p>"They have haunted me ever since. I see +them now. All the sorrow of earth seemed mirrored +in them. Sad, sad, and yet such a deep, +tender pity! One would have said that it was +He who needed pity had you seen His poor +battered, disfigured face. But He had no +thought for Himself—it was the great world +pity that looked out of His gentle eyes. There +was a noble maniple of the legion there, and not +a man among them who did not wish to charge +the howling crowd who were dragging such a +man to His death."</p> + +<p>"What were you doing there?"</p> + +<p>"I was Junior Centurion, with the gold vine-rod +fresh on my shoulders. I was on duty on +the hill, and never had a job that I liked less.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +But discipline has to be observed, and Pilate +had given the order. But I thought at the time—and +I was not the only one—that this man's +name and work would not be forgotten, and +that there would be a curse on the place that +had done such a deed. There was an old +woman there, His mother, with her grey hair +down her back. I remember how she shrieked +when one of our fellows with his lance put +Him out of his pain. And a few others, women +and men, poor and ragged, stood by Him. But, +you see, it has turned out as I thought. Even +in Rome, as you have observed, His followers +have appeared."</p> + +<p>"I rather fancy," said I, "that I am speaking +to one of them."</p> + +<p>"At least, I have not forgotten," said he. +"I have been in the wars ever since with little +time for study. But my pension is overdue, +and when I have changed the sagum for the +toga, and the tent for some little farm up Como +way, then I shall look more deeply into these +things, if, perchance, I can find some one to instruct +me."</p> + +<p>And so I left him. I only tell you all this +because I remember that you took an interest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +in the man, Paulus, who was put to death for +preaching this religion. You told me that it +had reached Cæsar's palace, and I can tell you +now that it has reached Cæsar's soldiers as +well. But apart from this matter I wish to +tell you some of the adventures which we have +had recently in raiding for food among the +hills, which stretch as far south as the river +Jordan. The other day ...</p> + +<p>[<i>Here the fragment is ended.</i>]</p> + +<div class="p2"><p class="center">THE END</p></div> + +<div class="trn"><p><b>Transcriber's Note:</b> +Dialect spellings remain as printed. Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note, whilst significant amendments have been listed below:</p> + +<ul><li>p. <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, 'cacophanies' amended to <i>cacophonies</i>;</li> +<li>p. <a href="#Page_102">102</a>, 'Pantelic' amended to <i>Pentelic</i>;</li> +<li>p. <a href="#Page_113">113</a>, 'Septimus' amended to <i>Septimius</i>;</li> +<li>p. <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, 'Sava' amended to <i>Saba</i>;</li> +<li>p. <a href="#Page_206">206</a>, 'wagons' amended to <i>waggons</i>.</li></ul></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Last of the Legions and Other +Tales of Long Ago, by Arthur Conan Doyle + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS *** + +***** This file should be named 26153-h.htm or 26153-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/1/5/26153/ + +Produced by Chris Curnow, Joseph Cooper, Stephen Blundell +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + +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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