"Aye, one word, gracious lady ... Hark!"
And that word sent its dismal echo even to Dea Flavia"s ear.
"Death!"
Then Blanca uttered a terrified scream and quickly drew away from the window; from beyond the Palace of Tiberius, there where the new Palace of Caligula reared its gigantic marble pillars above the temples below, a huge column of flames had shot upwards to the sky. And a cry, louder than before and more distinct, came clearly from afar.
"Death to the Caesar! Death!"
"Ye G.o.ds protect him," murmured Dea Flavia fervently.
"They"ll murder him! they"ll murder him!" shouted Licinia at the top of her trembling voice.
She had fallen on her knees and the other women squatted round her like a huddled-up ma.s.s of terror-stricken humanity, with hair undone and pale, quivering lips and staring eyes dilated with fear.
But Dea Flavia, now that she was dressed, took no further notice of them; she left them there on the floor, moaning and whimpering, and hurried out into the atrium. Here too the sense of terror filled the air. Beyond the colonnaded arcade in the corridors and the peristyle could be seen groups of slaves--men and women--squatting together with head meeting head in eager gossip, or clinging to one another in a state of abject cowardice.
Here too, through the open vestibule, the sounds from the streets came louder and more clear. That awful cry of "Death" echoed with appalling distinctness, and to Dea Flavia"s strained senses it seemed as if they were mingled with others, more awesome mayhap, but equally ominous of "The praefect of Rome! Where is the praefect of Rome! Hail! Taurus Antinor! Hail."
The noise grew louder and louder, and from where she stood now--it seemed to her that she could trace in her mind the progress of the rebels, as they spread themselves from the foot of the Palatine and from the Forum, upwards to the heights until they had the palace of the Caesar completely surrounded.
It was from there that weird cries of terror came incessantly, and in imagination Dea saw an army of cowardly, panic-stricken slaves, huddled together as her own women had been, with palsied limbs and chattering teeth, whilst a handful of faithful men of the praetorian guard were alone left to protect the sacred person of the Caesar.
Above her, through the apertures in the tiled roof, she could see the sky aglow with lurid crimson, and the smell of burning wood and of charred stuffs filled her nostrils with their pungent odour.
"Death to the Caesar! Death!" The cry seemed almost at her door. Only the Palace of Tiberius, with its great empty halls and basilicas stood between her and the rallying-point of the rebels.
She called loudly for Tertius--her comptroller--and he came running along from the slaves" quarters with an army of howling men and women at his heels.
"What news, Tertius?" she demanded. "Hast heard?"
"They have surrounded the Caesar"s palace," said Tertius excitedly, "and demand his presence."
"Oh! the sacrilege!..." she exclaimed, "and what doth the Caesar?"
"He will not appear, and his guards charge the mob as they advance upwards from the Forum. They have invaded the temple of Castor, and already some are swarming in the vestibules of the palace. The guard are behind the colonnades and were holding the crowd at bay with fair success until...."
"Until?" she asked.
"Until some of the rebels skirting the palace, set fire to the slaves"
quarters in the rear. The flames are spreading. The Caesar will be forced to face the people, an he doth not mean to be buried beneath the crumbling walls of his palace!"
"The miscreants have set fire to the palace of the Caesars?" she exclaimed.
"Alas!" replied the man, "they will force the Caesar to show himself to them. And they loudly demand the praefect of Rome."
"The praefect of Rome?"
"Aye, gracious lady. The people had thought that the Caesar killed him; some strove, it seems, to recover his body in the imperial tribune, where he was seen to fall. But the body had disappeared, and the rumour hath gained ground that the Caesar had it thrown to his dogs."
"It"s not true," she cried out involuntarily.
"No, gracious lady. Men of sense do know that it is not true. But an infuriated mob hath no sense. It is like an overgrown child, with thousands of irresponsible limbs. It is tossed hither and thither, swayed by the wind of a chance word. But it were as well, mayhap, if it were true."
"Silence, Tertius, how canst say such a thing."
"I think of the Caesar, gracious lady," rejoined the man simply, "and of thee. If the mob found the praefect of Rome now alive or dead, then surely would they murder the Caesar and make of the praefect their Emperor if he lived, their G.o.d if he were dead."
And as if to confirm the man"s words, the morning breeze wafted through the air the prolonged and insistent cry:
"Taurus Antinor! Hail!"
With a curt word, Dea dismissed her comptroller, and he went, followed by his train of shrieking men and women.
She remained a while silent and alone in the atrium, while the moanings of the slaves and Tertius" rough admonitions to them died away in the distance.
"If the mob found the praefect of Rome now alive or dead," she murmured, "then surely would they murder the Caesar and make of the praefect their Emperor if he lived, their G.o.d if he were dead!"
Dea Flavia cast a quick glance all round her. The atrium itself was deserted, even though from every side beyond its colonnaded arcade came the sound of many voices and those persistent, cowardly groanings which set the young girl"s nerves tingling and caused her heart to sink within her, with the presage of impending doom.
Only in the vestibule the watchmen sat alert and prepared to guard the Augusta"s house; they were gossiping among themselves and seemed the only men in the place who were not wholly panic-stricken.
The hum of their voices sounded quite rea.s.suring in the midst of the senseless groans of terror which came from the women"s quarters near the Augusta"s rooms, as well as from the men in the more remote parts of the house.
After that brief moment of hesitation Dea went resolutely toward the studio. She crossed its small vestibule and pushed open the door.
Dion was sitting there on guard as the Augusta had commanded. He rose when she entered.
"The praefect?" she asked hurriedly.
"He sleeps," replied the man.
"Art sure?"
"I peeped in but a few moments ago. His eyes are closed. I think that he sleeps."
"I would wish to make sure," she said curtly.
Too well-trained, or mayhap too indifferent to show surprise at so strange a desire on the part of the great and gracious Augusta, Dion stood aside respectfully to allow her to pa.s.s, then he followed her to the door of the inner room and held aside the heavy curtain, whilst she put her hand upon the latch.
"Dion," she said, turning back to him, "yesterday I gave thee thy freedom, since thou didst serve me well."
"Aye, gracious lady," replied the man as he bent the knee in submissive respect, "and I would kiss thy feet for this, thy graciousness."
"When the city is once more at peace, we"ll before the quaestor, and thou and Nolus and Blanca shall all be declared free. But to-day thou art still my slave and must obey me in all things."
"As thou dost command, gracious lady."