Olinthus was not slow to obey that prayer; and there--as oftentimes in the early ages of the Christian creed--it was in the darkness of the dungeon, and over the approach of death, that the dawning Gospel shed its soft and consecrating rays.
Chapter XVII
A CHANCE FOR GLAUCUS.
THE hours pa.s.sed in lingering torture over the head of Nydia from the time in which she had been replaced in her cell.
Sosia, as if afraid he should be again outwitted, had refrained from visiting her until late in the morning of the following day, and then he but thrust in the periodical basket of food and wine, and hastily reclosed the door. That day rolled on, and Nydia felt herself pent--barred--inexorably confined, when that day was the judgment-day of Glaucus, and when her release would have saved him! Yet knowing, almost impossible as seemed her escape, that the sole chance for the life of Glaucus rested on her, this young girl, frail, pa.s.sionate, and acutely susceptible as she was--resolved not to give way to a despair that would disable her from seizing whatever opportunity might occur. She kept her senses whenever, beneath the whirl of intolerable thought, they reeled and tottered; nay, she took food and wine that she might sustain her strength--that she might be prepared!
She revolved scheme after scheme of escape, and was forced to dismiss all. Yet Sosia was her only hope, the only instrument with which she could tamper. He had been superst.i.tious in the desire of ascertaining whether he could eventually purchase his freedom. Blessed G.o.ds! might he not be won by the bribe of freedom itself? was she not nearly rich enough to purchase it? Her slender arms were covered with bracelets, the presents of Ione; and on her neck she yet wore that very chain which, it may be remembered, had occasioned her jealous quarrel with Glaucus, and which she had afterwards promised vainly to wear for ever. She waited burningly till Sosia should again appear: but as hour after hour pa.s.sed, and he came not, she grew impatient. Every nerve beat with fever; she could endure the solitude no longer--she groaned, she shrieked aloud--she beat herself against the door. Her cries echoed along the hall, and Sosia, in peevish anger, hastened to see what was the matter, and silence his prisoner if possible.
"Ho! ho! what is this?" said he, surlily. "Young slave, if thou screamest out thus, we must gag thee again. My shoulders will smart for it, if thou art heard by my master."
"Kind Sosia, chide me not--I cannot endure to be so long alone,"
answered Nydia; "the solitude appals me. Sit with me, I pray, a little while. Nay, fear not that I should attempt to escape; place thy seat before the door. Keep thine eye on me--I will not stir from this spot."
Sosia, who was a considerable gossip himself, was moved by this address.
He pitied one who had n.o.body to talk with--it was his case too; he pitied--and resolved to relieve himself. He took the hint of Nydia, placed a stool before the door, leant his back against it, and replied:
"I am sure I do not wish to be churlish; and so far as a little innocent chat goes, I have no objection to indulge you. But mind, no tricks--no more conjuring!"
"No, no; tell me, dear Sosia, what is the hour?"
"It is already evening--the goats are going home."
"O G.o.ds! how went the trial"
"Both condemned."
Nydia repressed the shriek. "Well--well, I thought it would be so. When do they suffer?"
"To-morrow, in the amphitheatre. If it were not for thee, little wretch, I should be allowed to go with the rest and see it."
Nydia leant back for some moments. Nature could endure no more--she had fainted away. But Sosia did not perceive it, for it was the dusk of eve, and he was full of his own privations. He went on lamenting the loss of so delightful a show, and accusing the injustice of Arbaces for singling him out from all his fellows to be converted into a gaoler; and ere he had half finished, Nydia, with a deep sigh, recovered the sense of life.
"Thou sighest, blind one, at my loss! Well, that is some comfort. So long as you acknowledge how much you cost me, I will endeavor not to grumble. It is hard to be ill-treated, and yet not pitied."
"Sosia, how much dost thou require to make up the purchase of thy freedom?"
"How much? Why, about two thousand sesterces."
"The G.o.ds be praised! not more? Seest thou these bracelets and this chain? They are well worth double that sum. I will give them thee if..."
"Tempt me not: I cannot release thee. Arbaces is a severe and awful master. Who knows but I might feed the fishes of the Sarnus Alas! all the sesterces in the world would not buy me back into life. Better a live dog than a dead lion."
"Sosia, thy freedom! Think well! If thou wilt let me out only for one little hour!--let me out at midnight--I will return ere to-morrow"s dawn; nay, thou canst go with me."
"No," said Sosia, st.u.r.dily, "a slave once disobeyed Arbaces, and he was never more heard of."
"But the law gives a master no power over the life of a slave."
"The law is very obliging, but more polite than efficient. I know that Arbaces always gets the law on his side. Besides, if I am once dead, what law can bring me to life again!"
Nydia wrung her hands. "Is there no hope, then?" said she, convulsively.
"None of escape till Arbaces gives the word."
"Well, then, said Nydia, quickly, "thou wilt not, at least, refuse to take a letter for me: thy master cannot kill thee for that."
"To whom?"
"The praetor."
"To a magistrate? No--not I. I should be made a witness in court, for what I know; and the way they cross-examine the slaves is by the torture."
"Pardon: I meant not the praetor--it was a word that escaped me unawares: I meant quite another person--the gay Sall.u.s.t."
"Oh! and what want you with him?"
"Glaucus was my master; he purchased me from a cruel lord. He alone has been kind to me. He is to die. I shall never live happily if I cannot, in his hour of trial and doom, let him know that one heart is grateful to him. Sall.u.s.t is his friend; he will convey my message."
"I am sure he will do no such thing. Glaucus will have enough to think of between this and to-morrow without troubling his head about a blind girl."
"Man," said Nydia, rising, "wilt thou become free? Thou hast the offer in thy power; to-morrow it will be too late. Never was freedom more cheaply purchased. Thou canst easily and unmissed leave home: less than half an hour will suffice for thine absence. And for such a trifle wilt thou refuse liberty?"
Sosia was greatly moved. It was true that the request was remarkably silly; but what was that to him? So much the better. He could lock the door on Nydia, and, if Arbaces should learn his absence, the offence was venial, and would merit but a reprimand. Yet, should Nydia"s letter contain something more than what she had said--should it speak of her imprisonment, as he shrewdly conjectured it would do--what then! It need never be known to Arbaces that he had carried the letter. At the worst the bribe was enormous--the risk light--the temptation irresistible. He hesitated no longer--he a.s.sented to the proposal.
"Give me the trinkets, and I will take the letter. Yet stay--thou art a slave--thou hast no right to these ornaments--they are thy master"s."
"They were the gifts of Glaucus; he is my master. What chance hath he to claim them? Who else will know they are in my possession?"
"Enough--I will bring thee the papyrus."
"No, not papyrus--a tablet of wax and a stilus."
Nydia, as the reader will have seen, was born of gentle parents. They had done all to lighten her calamity, and her quick intellect seconded their exertions. Despite her blindness, she had therefore acquired in childhood, though imperfectly, the art to write with the sharp stilus upon waxen tablets, in which her exquisite sense of touch came to her aid. When the tablets were brought to her, she thus painfully traced some words in Greek, the language of her childhood, and which almost every Italian of the higher ranks was then supposed to know. She carefully wound round the epistle the thread, and covered its knot with wax; and ere she placed it in the hands of Sosia, she thus addressed him:
"Sosia, I am blind and in prison. Thou mayst think to deceive me--thou mayst pretend only to take the letter to Sall.u.s.t--thou mayst not fulfill thy charge: but here I solemnly dedicate thy head to vengeance, thy soul to the infernal powers, if thou wrongest thy trust; and I call upon thee to place thy right hand of faith in mine, and repeat after me these words: "By the ground on which we stand--by the elements which contain life and can curse life--by Orcus, the all-avenging--by the Olympian Jupiter, the all-seeing--I swear that I will honestly discharge my trust, and faithfully deliver into the hands of Sall.u.s.t this letter!
And if I perjure myself in this oath, may the full curses of heaven and h.e.l.l be wreaked upon me!" Enough!--I trust thee--take thy reward. It is already dark--depart at once."
"Thou art a strange girl, and thou hast frightened me terribly; but it is all very natural: and if Sall.u.s.t is to be found, I give him this letter as I have sworn. By my faith, I may have my little peccadilloes!
but perjury--no! I leave that to my betters."
With this Sosia withdrew, carefully pa.s.sing the heavy bolt athwart Nydia"s door--carefully locking its wards: and, hanging the key to his girdle, he retired to his own den, enveloped himself from head to foot in a huge disguising cloak, and slipped out by the back way undisturbed and unseen.
The streets were thin and empty. He soon gained the house of Sall.u.s.t.