"LORD," said Chilo, "the sea is like olive oil, the waves seem to sleep. Let us go to Achaea. There the glory of Apollo is awaiting thee, crowns and triumph are awaiting thee, the people will deify thee, the G.o.ds will receive thee as a guest, their own equal; but here, O lord--"
And he stopped, for his lower lip began to quiver so violently that his words pa.s.sed into meaningless sounds.
"We will go when the games are over," replied Nero. "I know that even now some call the Christians innoxia corpora. If I were to go, all would repeat this. What dost thou fear?"
Then he frowned, but looked with inquiring glance at Chilo, as if expecting an answer, for he only feigned cool blood. At the last exhibition he himself feared the words of Crispus; and when he had returned to the Palatine, he could not sleep from rage and shame, but also from fear.
Then Vestinius, who heard their conversation in silence, looked around, and said in a mysterious voice,-- "Listen, lord, to this old man. There is something strange in those Christians. Their deity gives them an easy death, but he may be vengeful."
"It was not I who arranged the games, but Tigellinus," replied Nero, quickly.
"True! it was I," added Tigellinus, who heard Caesar"s answer, "and I jeer at all Christian G.o.ds. Vestinius is a bladder full of prejudices, and this valiant Greek is ready to die of terror at sight of a hen with feathers up in defence of her chickens."
"True!" said Nero; "but henceforth give command to cut the tongues out of Christians and stop their mouths."
"Fire will stop them, O divinity."
"Woe is me!" groaned Chilo.
But Caesar, to whom the insolent confidence of Tigellinus gave courage, began to laugh, and said, pointing to the old Greek,-- "See how the descendant of Achilles looks!"
Indeed Chilo looked terribly. The remnant of hair on his head had grown white; on his face was fixed an expression of some immense dread, alarm, and oppression. He seemed at times, too, as if stunned and only half conscious. Often he gave no answer to questions; then again he fell into anger, and became so insolent that the Augustians preferred not to attack him. Such a moment had come to him then.
"Do what ye like with me, but I will not go to the games!" cried he, in desperation.
Nero looked at him for a while, and, turning to Tigellinus, said,-- "Have a care that this Stoic is near me in the gardens. I want to see what impression our torches will make on him."
Chilo was afraid of the threat which quivered in Caesar"s voice. "O lord," said he, "I shall see nothing, for I cannot see in the night- time."
"The night will be as bright as day," replied Caesar, with a threatening laugh.
Turning then to the Augustians, Nero talked about races which he intended to have when the games were over.
Petronius approached Chilo, and asked, pushing him on the shoulder,-- "Have I not said that thou wouldst not hold out?"
"I wish to drink," said Chilo, stretching his trembling hand toward a goblet of wine; but he was unable to raise it to his lips. Seeing this, Vestinius took the vessel; but later he drew near, and inquired with curious and frightened face,-- "Are the Furies pursuing thee?"
The old man looked at him a certain time with open lips, as if not understanding what he said. But Vestinius repeated, "Are the Furies pursuing thee?"
"No," answered Chilo; "but night is before me."
"How, night? May the G.o.ds have mercy on thee. How night?"
"Night, ghastly and impenetrable, in which something is moving, something coming toward me; but I know not what it is, and I am terrified."
"I have always been sure that there are witches. Dost thou not dream of something?"
"No, for I do not sleep. I did not think that they would be punished thus."
"Art thou sorry for them?"
"Why do ye shed so much blood? Hast heard what that one said from the cross? Woe to us!"
"I heard," answered Vestinius, in a low voice. "But they are incendiaries."
"Not true!"
"And enemies of the human race."
"Not true!"
"And poisoners of water."
"Not true!"
"And murderers of children."
"Not true!"
"How?" inquired Vestinius, with astonishment. "Thou hast said so thyself, and given them into the hands of Tigellinus."
"Therefore night has surrounded me, and death is coming toward me. At times it seems to me that I am dead already, and ye also."
"No! it is they who are dying; we are alive. But tell me, what do they see when they are dying?"
"Christ."
"That is their G.o.d. Is he a mighty G.o.d?"
But Chilo answered with a question,-- "What kind of torches are to burn in the gardens? Hast thou heard what Caesar said?"
"I heard, and I know. Those torches are called Sarment.i.tii and Semaxii. They are made by arraying men in painful tunics, steeped in pitch, and binding them to pillars, to which fire is set afterward. May their G.o.d not send misfortune on the city. Semaxii! that is a dreadful punishment!"
"I would rather see it, for there will not be blood," answered Chilo. "Command a slave to hold the goblet to my mouth. I wish to drink, but I spill the wine; my hand trembles from age."
Others also were speaking of the Christians. Old Domitius Afer reviled them.
"There is such a mult.i.tude of them," said he, "that they might raise a civil war; and, remember, there were fears lest they might arm. But they die like sheep."
"Let them try to die otherwise!" said Tigellinus.
To this Petronius answered, "Ye deceive yourselves. They are arming."
"With what?"
"With patience."
"That is a new kind of weapon."
"True. But can ye say that they die like common criminals? No! They die as if the criminals were those who condemned them to death,--that is, we and the whole Roman people."
"What raving!" said Tigellinus.
"Hic Abdera!" answered Petronius.
[A proverbial expression meaning "The dullest of the dull"--Note by the Author.]
But others, struck by the justice of his remark, began to look at one another with astonishment, and repeat,-- "True! there is something peculiar and strange in their death."
"I tell you that they see their divinity!" cried Vestinius, from one side. Thereupon a number of Augustians turned to Chilo,-- "Hai, old man, thou knowest them well; tell us what they see."
The Greek spat out wine on his tunic, and answered,-- "The resurrection." And he began to tremble so that the guests sitting nearer burst into loud laughter.
Chapter LIX.
FOR some time Vinicius had spent his nights away from home. It occurred to Petronius that perhaps he had formed a new plan, and was working to liberate Lygia from the Esquiline dungeon; he did not wish, however, to inquire about anything, lest he might bring misfortune to the work. This sceptical exquisite had become in a certain sense superst.i.tious. He had failed to s.n.a.t.c.h Lygia from the Mamertine prison, hence had ceased to believe in his own star.
Besides, he did not count this time on a favorable outcome for the efforts of Vinicius. The Esquiline prison, formed in a hurry from the cellars of houses thrown down to stop the fire, was not, it is true, so terrible as the old Tullianum near the Capitol, but it was a hundred times better guarded. Petronius understood perfectly that Lygia had been taken there only to escape death and not escape the amphitheatre. He could understand at once that for this very reason they were guarding her as a man guards the eye in his head.
"Evidently," said he to himself, "Caesar and Tigellinus have reserved her for some special spectacle, more dreadful than all others, and Vinicius is more likely to perish than rescue her."
Vinicius, too, had lost hope of being able to free Lygia. Christ alone could do that. The young tribune now thought only of seeing her in prison.
For some time the knowledge that Nazarius had penetrated the Mamertine prison as a corpse-bearer had given him no peace; hence he resolved to try that method also.
The overseer of the "Putrid Pits," who had been bribed for an immense sum of money, admitted him at last among servants whom he sent nightly to prisons for corpses. The danger that Vinicius might be recognized was really small. He was preserved from it by night, the dress of a slave, and the defective illumination of the prison. Besides, into whose head could it enter that a patrician, the grandson of one consul, the son of another, could be found among servants, corpse-bearers, exposed to the miasma of prisons and the "Putrid Pits"? And he began work to which men were forced only by slavery or the direst need.
When the desired evening came, he girded his loins gladly, covered his head with a cloth steeped in turpentine, and with throbbing heart betook himself, with a crowd of others, to the Esquiline.
The pretorian guards made no trouble, for all had brought proper tesserae, which the centurion examined by the light of a lantern. After a while the great iron doors opened before them, and they entered.
Vinicius saw an extensive vaulted cellar, from which they pa.s.sed to a series of others. Dim tapers illuminated the interior of each, which was filled with people. Some of these were lying at the walls sunk in sleep, or dead, perhaps. Others surrounded large vessels of water, standing in the middle, out of which they drank as people tormented with fever; others were sitting on the grounds, their elbows on their knees, their heads on their palms; here and there children were sleeping, nestled up to their mothers. Groans, loud hurried breathing of the sick, weeping, whispered prayers, hymns in an undertone, the curses of overseers were heard round about it. In this dungeon was the odor of crowds and corpses. In its gloomy depth dark figures were swarming; nearer, close to flickering lights, were visible faces, pale, terrified, hungry, and cadaverous, with eyes dim, or else flaming with fever, with lips blue, with streams of sweat on their foreheads, and with clammy hair. In corners the sick were moaning loudly; some begged for water; others, to be led to death. And still that prison was less terrible than the old Tullianum. The legs bent under Vinicius when he saw all this, and breath was failing in his breast. At the thought that Lygia was in the midst of this misery and misfortune, the hair rose on his head, and he stifled a cry of despair. The amphitheatre, the teeth of wild beasts, the cross,--anything was better than those dreadful dungeons filled with the odor of corpses, places in which imploring voices called from every corner,-- "Lead us to death!"
Vinicius pressed his nails into his palms, for he felt that he was growing weak, and that presence of mind was deserting him. All that he had felt till then, all his love and pain, changed in him to one desire for death.
Just then near his side was heard the overseer of the "Putrid Pits,"
"How many corpses have ye to-day?"
"About a dozen," answered the guardian of the prison, "but there will be more before morning; some are in agony at the walls."
And he fell to complaining of women who concealed dead children so as to keep them near and not yield them to the "Putrid Pits." "We must discover corpses first by the odor; through this the air, so terrible already, is spoiled still more. I would rather be a slave in some rural prison than guard these dogs rotting here while alive--"
The overseer of the pits comforted him, saying that his own service was no easier. By this time the sense of reality had returned to Vinicius. He began to search the dungeon; but sought in vain for Lygia, fearing meanwhile that he would never see her alive. A number of cellars were connected by newly made pa.s.sages; the corpse-bearers entered only those from which corpses were to be carried. Fear seized Vinicius lest that privilege which had cost so much trouble might serve no purpose. Luckily his patron aided him.
"Infection spreads most through corpses," said he. "Ye must carry out the bodies at once, or die yourselves, together with the prisoners."
"There are only ten of us for all the cellars," said the guardian, "and we must sleep."
"I will leave four men of mine, who will go through the cellars at night to see if these are dead."
"We will drink to-morrow if thou do that. Everybody must be taken to the test; for an order has come to pierce the neck of each corpse, and then to the "Putrid Pits" at once with it."
"Very well, but we will drink," said the overseer.
Four men were selected, and among them Vinicius; the others he took to put the corpses on the biers.
Vinicius was at rest; he was certain now at least of finding Lygia. The young tribune began by examining the first dungeon carefully; he looked into all the dark corners hardly reached by the light of his torch; he examined figures sleeping at the walls under coa.r.s.e cloths; he saw that the most grievously ill were drawn into a corner apart. But Lygia he found in no place. In a second and third dungeon his search was equally fruitless.
Meanwhile the hour had grown late; all corpses had been carried out. The guards, disposing themselves in the corridors between cellars, were asleep; the children, wearied with crying, were silent; nothing was heard save the breathing of troubled b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and here and there the murmur of prayer.
Vinicius went with his torch to the fourth dungeon, which was considerably smaller. Raising the light, he began to examine it, and trembled all at once, for it seemed to him that he saw, near a latticed opening in the wall, the gigantic form of Ursus. Then, blowing out the light, he approached him, and asked, "Ursus, art thou here?"
"Who art thou?" asked the giant, turning his head.
"Dost not know me?"
"Thou hast quenched the torch; how could I know thee?"
But at that moment Vinicius saw Lygia lying on a cloak near the wall; so, without speaking further, he knelt near her. Ursus recognized him, and said,-- "Praise be to Christ! but do not wake her, lord."
Vinicius, kneeling down, gazed at her through his tears. In spite of the darkness he could distinguish her face, which seemed to him as pale as alabaster, and her emaciated arms. At that sight he was seized by a love which was like a rending pain, a love which shook his soul to its uttermost depth, and which at the same time was so full of pity, respect, and homage that he fell on his face, and pressed to his lips the hem of the cloak on which rested that head dearer to him than all else on earth.
Ursus looked at Vinicius for a long time in silence, but at last he pulled his tunic.
"Lord," asked he, "how didst thou come, and hast thou come here to save her?"
Vinicius rose, and struggled for a time with his emotion. "Show me the means," replied he.
"I thought that thou wouldst find them, lord. Only one method came to my head--"
Here he turned toward the grating in the wall, as if in answer to himself, and said,-- "In that way--but there are soldiers outside--"
"A hundred pretorians."
"Then we cannot pa.s.s?"
"No!"