CHAPTER X.
The story told by Mastor which had so greatly agitated Pollux and hadprompted him to his mad flight was the history of events which had takenplace in the steward's rooms during the hours when the young artistwas helping his parents to transfer their household belongings intohis sister's tiny dwelling. Keraunus was certainly not one of the mostcheerful of men, but on the morning when Sabina came to the palace andthe gate-keeper was driven from his home, he had worn the aspect of athoroughly-contented man.
Since visiting Selene the day before he had given himself no fartherconcern about her. She was not dangerously ill and was exceptionallywell taken care of, and the children did not seem to miss her. Indeed,he himself did not want her back to-day. He avoided confessing this tohimself it is true, still he felt lighter and freer in the absenceof his grave monitor than he had been for a long time. It would bedelightful, he thought, to go on living in this careless manner, alonewith Arsinoe and the children, and now and again he rubbed his hands andgrinned complacently. When the old slave-woman brought a large dish fullof cakes which he had desired her to buy, and set it down by the sideof the children's porridge, he chuckled so heartily that his fat personshook and swayed; and he had very good reason to be happy in his way,for Plutarch quite early in the morning, had sent a heavy purse of goldpieces for his ivory cup, and a magnificent bunch of roses to Arsinoe;he might give his children a treat, buy himself a solid gold fillet,and dress Arsinoe as finely as though she were the prefect's favoritedaughter.
His vanity was gratified in every particular.
And what a splendid fellow was the slave who now--with a superblyreverential bow-presented him with a roast chicken and who was to walkbehind him in the afternoon to the council-chamber. The tall Thessalianwho marched after the Archidikastes to the Hall of justice, carrying hispapers, was hardly grander than his "body-servant." He had bought himyesterday at quite a low price. The well-grown Samian was scarcelythirty years old; he could read and write and was in a positiontherefore to instruct the children in these arts; nay, he could evenplay the lute. His past, to be sure, was not a spotless record, andit was for that reason that he had been sold so cheaply. He had stolenthings on several occasions; but the brands and scars which he bore uponhis person were hidden by his new chiton and Keraunus felt in himselfthe power to cure him of his evil propensities.
After desiring Arsinoe to let nothing he about of any value, for theirnew house-mate seemed not to be perfectly honest, he answered hisdaughter's scruples by saying:
"It would be better, no doubt, that he should be as honest as the oldskeleton I gave in exchange for him, but I reflect that even if mybody-servant should make away with some of the few drachmae we carryabout with us, I need not repent of having bought him, since I got himfor many thousand drachmae less than he is worth, on account of histhefts, while a teacher for the children would have cost more than hecan steal from us at the worst. I will lock up the gold in the chestwith my documents. It is strong and could only be opened with acrow-bar. Besides the fellow will have left off stealing at any rate atfirst, for his late master was none of the mildest and had cured him ofhis pilfering I should think, once for all. It is lucky that in sellingsuch rascals we should be compelled to state what their faults are; ifthe seller fails to do so compensation maybe claimed from him by thenext owner for what he may lose. Lykophron certainly concealed nothing,and setting aside his thieving propensities the Samian is said to be inevery respect a capital fellow."
"But father," replied Arsinoe, her anxiety once more urging her tospeak, "it is a bad thing to have a dishonest man in the house."
"You know nothing about it child!" answered Keraunus. "To us to live andto be honest are the same thing, but a slave!--King Antiochus is said tohave declared that the man who wishes to be well served must employ nonebut rascals."
When Arsinoe had been tempted out on to the balcony by her lover'ssnatch of song and had been driven in again by her father, the stewardhad not reproved her in any way unkindly, but had stroked her cheeks andsaid with a smile: "I rather fancy that lad of the gatekeeper's--whomI once turned out of doors has had his eye on you since you were chosenfor Roxana. Poor wretch! But we have very different suitors in view foryou my little girl. How would it be, think you, if rich Plutarch hadsent you those roses, not on his own behalf but as a greeting on thepart of his son? I know that he is very desirous of marrying him but thefastidious man has never yet thought any Alexandrian girl good enoughfor him."
"I do not know him, and he does not think of a poor thing like me," saidArsinoe.
"Do you think not?" asked Keraunus smiling. "We are of as good family,nay of a better than Plutarch, and the fairest is a match for thewealthiest. What would you say child to a long flowing purple robe and achariot with white horses, and runners in front?"
At breakfast Keraunus drank two cups of strong wine, in which he allowedArsinoe to mix only a few drops of water. While his daughter was curlinghis hair a swallow flew into the room; this was a good omen and raisedthe steward's spirits. Dressed in his best and with a well-filled purse,he was on the point of starting for the council-chamber with his newslave when Sophilus the tailor and his girl-assistant were shown intothe living-room. The man begged to be allowed to try the dress, orderedfor Roxana by the prefect's wife, on the steward's daughter. Keraunusreceived him with much condescension and allowed him to bring in theslave who followed him with a large parcel of dresses,--and Arsinoe, whowas with the children, was called.
Arsinoe was embarrassed and anxious and would far rather have yieldedher part to another; still, she was curious about the new dresses. Thetailor begged her to allow her maid to dress her; his assistant wouldhelp her because the dresses which were only slightly stitched togetherfor trying on, were cut, not in the Greek but in the Oriental fashion.
"Your waiting woman," he added turning to Arsinoe, "will be able tolearn to-day the way to dress you on the great occasion."
"My daughter's maid," said Keraunus, winking slily at Arsinoe, "is notin the house."
"Oh, I require no help," cried the tailor's girl. "I am handy too atdressing hair, and I am most glad to help such a fair Roxana."
"And it is a real pleasure to work for her," added Sophilus. "Otheryoung ladies are beautified by what they wear, but your daughter addsbeauty to all she wears."
"You are most polite," said Keraunus, as Arsinoe and her handmaid leftthe room.
"We learn a great deal by our intercourse with people of rank," repliedthe tailor. "The illustrious ladies who honor me with their custom likenot only to see but to hear what is pleasing. Unfortunately there areamong them some whom the gods have graced with but few charms, andthey, strangely enough, crave the most flattering speeches. But the pooralways value it more than the rich when benevolence is shown them."
"Well said," cried Keraunus. "I myself am but indifferently well off fora man of family, and am glad to live within my moderate means--so thatmy daughter--"
"The lady Julia has chosen the costliest stuffs for her; as isfitting--as the occasion demands," said the tailor. "Quite right, at thesame time--"
"Well, my lord?"
"The grand occasion will be over and my daughter, now that she is grownup, ought to be seen at home and in the street in suitable and handsome,though not costly, clothes.
"I said just now, true beauty needs no gaudy raiment."
"Would you be disposed now, to work for me at a moderate price?"
"With pleasure; nay, I shall be indebted to her, for all the world willadmire Roxana and inquire who may be her tailor."
"You are a very reasonable and right-minded man. What now would youcharge for a dress for her?"
"That we can discuss later."
"No, no, I beg you sincerely--"
"First let me consider what you want. Simple dresses are more difficult,far more difficult to make, and yet become a handsome woman better thanrich and gaudy robes. But can any man make a woman understand it? Icould tell you a tale of thei
r folly! Why many a woman who rides by inher chariot wears dresses and gems to conceal not merely her own limbs,but the poverty-stricken condition of her house."
Thus, and in this wise did Keraunus and the tailor converse, while theassistant plaited up Arsinoe's hair with strings of false pearls thatshe had brought with tier, and fitted and pinned on her the costly whiteand blue silk robes of an Asiatic princess. At first Arsinoe was verystill and timid. She no longer cared to dress for any one but Pollux;but the garments prepared for her were wonderfully pretty--and how wellthe fitter knew how to give effect to her natural advantages. While theneat-handed woman worked busily and carefully many merry jests passedbetween them--many sincere and hearty words of admiration--and beforelong Arsinoe had become quite excited and took pleased interest in theneedle-woman's labors.
Every bough that is freshly decked by spring seems to feel gladness, andthe simple child who was to-day so splendidly dressed was captivated bypleasure in her own beauty, and its costly adornment which delighted herbeyond measure. Arsinoe now clapped her hands with delight, now hadthe mirror handed to her, and now, with all the frankness of a child,expressed her satisfaction not only with the costly clothes she wore,but with her own surprisingly grand appearance in them.
The dress-maker was enchanted with her, proud and delighted, and couldnot resist the impulse to give a kiss to the charming girl's white,beautifully round throat.
"If only Pollux could see me so!" thought Arsinoe. "After theperformance perhaps I might show myself in my dress to Selene, and thenshe would forgive my taking part in the show. It is really a pleasure tolook so nice!"
The children all stood round her while she was being dressed, andshouted with admiration each time some new detail of the princess'sattire was added. Helios begged to be allowed to feel her dress, andafter satisfying herself that his little hands were clean she strokedthem over the glistening white silk.
She had now advanced so far that her father and the tailor could becalled in. She felt remarkably content and happy. Drawn up to hertallest, like a real king's daughter, and yet with a heart beating asanxiously as that of any girl would who is on the point of displayingher beauty--hitherto protected and hidden in her parents' home--tothe thousand eyes of the gaping multitude, she went towards thesitting-room; but she drew back her hand she had put forth to raise thelatch, for she heard the voices of several men who must just now havejoined her father.
"Wait a little while, there are visitors," she cried to the seamstresswho had followed her, and she put her ear to the door to listen. Atfirst she could not make out anything that was going on, but the endof the strange conversation that was being carried on within was sohideously intelligible that she could never forget it so long as shelived.
Her father had ordered two new dresses for her, beating down the pricewith the promise of prompt payment, when Mastor came into thesteward's room and informed Keraunus that his master and Gabinius, thecuriosity-dealer from Nicaea, wished to speak with him.
"Your master," said Keraunus haughtily, "may come in; I think that heregrets the injury he has done me; but Gabinius shall never cross thisthreshold again, for he is a scoundrel."
"It would be as well that you should desire that man to leave you forthe present," said the slave, pointing to the tailor.
"Whoever comes to visit me," said the steward loftily, "must besatisfied to meet any one whom I permit to enter my house."
"Nay, nay," said the slave urgently, "my master is a greater man thanyou think. Beg this man to leave the room."
"I know, I know very well," said Keraunus with a smile. "Your masteris an acquaintance of Caesar's. But we shall see, after the performancethat is about to take place, which of us two Caesar will decide for.This tailor has business here and will stay at my pleasure. Sit in thecorner there, my friend."
"A tailor!" cried Mastor, horrified. "I tell you he must go."
"He must!" asked Keraunus wrathfully. "A slave dares to give orders inmy house? We will see."
"I am going," interrupted the artisan who understood the case. "Nounpleasantness shall arise here on my account, I will return in aquarter of an hour."
"You will stay," commanded Keraunus. "This insolent Roman seems to thinkthat Lochias belongs to him; but I will show him who is master here."
But Mastor paid no heed to these words spoken in a high pitch; he tookthe tailor's hand and led him out, whispering to him:
"Come with me if you wish to escape an evil hour."
The two men went off and Keraunus did not detain the artisan, for itoccurred to his mind that his presence did him small credit. He purposedto show himself in all his dignity to the overbearing architect, but healso remembered that it was not advisable to provoke unnecessarily themysterious bearded stranger, with the big clog. Much excited, and notaltogether free from anxiety, he paced up and down his room. To givehimself courage he hastily filled a cup from the wine-jar that stood onthe breakfast table, emptied it, refilled it and drank it off a secondtime without adding any water, and then stood with his arms folded and astrong color in his face awaiting his enemy's visit.
The Emperor walked in with Gabinius. Keraunus expected some greeting,but Hadrian spoke not a word, cast a glance at him of the utmostcontempt and passed by him without taking any more notice of him than ifhe had been a pillar or a piece of furniture. The blood mounted to thesteward's head and heated his eyes and for fully a minute he strove invain to find words to give utterance to his rage. Gabinius paid no moreheed to Keraunus than the Roman had done. He walked on ahead and pausedin front of the mosaic for which he had offered so high a price, andover which a few days since he had been so sharply dealt with by thesteward.
"I would beg you," he said, "to look at this masterpiece."
The Emperor looked at the ground, but hardly had he begun to study thepicture, of which he quite understood and appreciated the beauty, whenjust behind him he heard in a hoarse voice these words uttered withdifficulty:
"In Alexandria--it is the custom, to greet--to say something--to thepeople you visit." Hadrian half turned his head towards the speaker andsaid indifferently but with strong and insulting contempt:
"In Rome too it is the custom to greet honest people." Then looking downagain at the mosaic he said, "Exquisite, exquisite an inestimable andprecious work." At Hadrian's words Keraunus' eyes almost started out ofhis head. His face was crimson and his lips pale; he went close up tohim and as soon as he had found breath to speak he said:
"What have you--what are your words intended to convey?"
Hadrian turned suddenly and full upon the steward; in his eyes sparkledthat annihilating fire which few could endure to gaze on and his deepvoice rolled sullenly through the room as he said to the miserable man:
"My words are intended to convey that you have been an unfaithfulsteward, that I know what you would rather I should not know, thatI have learned how you deal with the property entrusted to you, thatyou--"
"That I?"--cried the steward trembling with rage and stepping close upto the Emperor.
"That you," shouted Hadrian in his face, "tried to sell this pictureto this man; in short that you are a simpleton and a scoundrel into thebargain."
"I--I," gasped Keraunus slapping his hand on his fat chest."I--a--a--but you shall repent of these words."
Hadrian laughed coldly and scornfully, but Keraunus sprang on Gabiniuswith a wonderful agility for his size, clutched him by the collar ofhis chiton and shook the feeble little man as if he were a sapling,shrieking meanwhile:
"I will choke you with your own lies--serpent, mean viper!"
"Madman!" cried Hadrian "leave hold of the Ligurian or by Sirius youshall repent it."
"Repent it?" gasped the steward. "It will be your turn to repent whenCaesar comes. Then will come a day of reckoning with false witnesses,shameless calumniators who disturb peaceful households, while credulousidiots--"
"Man, man," interrupted Hadrian, not loudly but sternly and ominously,"you know not to whom you speak
."
"Oh I know you--I know you only too well. But I--I--shall I tell you whoI am?"
"You--you are a blockhead," replied the monarch shrugging his shoulderscontemptuously. Then he added calmly, with dignity--almost withindifference:
"I am Caesar."
At these words the steward's hand dropped from the chiton of thehalf-throttled dealer. Speechless and with a glassy stare he gazed inHadrian's face for a few seconds. Then he suddenly started, staggeredbackwards, uttered a loud choking, gurgling, nameless cry, and fellback on the floor like a mass of rock shaken from its foundations by anearthquake. The room shook again with his fall.
Hadrian was startled and when he saw him lying motionless at his feethe bent over him--less from pity than from a wish to see what was thematter with him; for he had also dabbled in medicine. Just as he waslifting the fallen man's hand to feel his pulse Arsinoe rushed into theroom. She had heard the last words of the antagonists with breathlessanxiety and her father's fall and now threw herself on her knees by theside of the unhappy man, just opposite to Hadrian, and as his distortedand grey-white face told her what had occurred she broke out in apassionate cry of anguish. Her brothers and sisters followed at herheels, and when they saw their favorite sister bewailing herself theyfollowed her example without knowing at first what Arsinoe was cryingfor, but soon with terror and horror at their father lying there stiffand disfigured. The Emperor, who had never had either son or daughterof his own, found nothing so intolerable as the presence of cryingchildren. However he endured the wailing and whimpering that surroundedhim till he had ascertained the condition of the man lying on the groundbefore him.
"He is dead," he said in a few minutes. "Cover his face, Master."
Arsinoe and the children broke out afresh, and Hadrian glanced down atthem with annoyance. When his eye fell on Arsinoe, whose costly robe,merely pinned and slightly stitched together had come undone with thevehemence of her movements and were hanging as flapping rags in tumbleddisorder, he was disgusted with the gaudy fluttering trumpery whichcontrasted so painfully with the grief of the wearer, and turning hisback on the fair girl he quitted the chamber of misery.
Gabinius followed him with a hideous smirk. He had directed theEmperor's attention to the mosaic pavement in the steward's room, andhad shamelessly accused Keraunus of having offered to sell him a workthat belonged to the palace, contrasting his conduct with his ownrectitude. Now the calumniated man was dead, and the truth could nevercome to light; this was necessarily a satisfaction to the miserable man,but he derived even greater pleasure from the reflection that Arsinoecould not now fill the part of Roxana, and that consequently there wasonce more a possibility that it might devolve on his daughter.
Hadrian walked on in front of him, silent and thoughtful. Gabiniusfollowed him into his writing-room, and there said with fulsomesmoothness:
"Ah, great Caesar, thus do the gods punish with a heavy hand the crimesof the guilty."
Hadrian did not interrupt him, but he looked him keenly and enquiringlyin the face, and then said, gravely, but coolly:
"It seems to me, man, that I should do well to break off my connectionwith you, and to give some other dealer the commissions which I proposedto entrust to you."
"Caesar!" stammered Gabinius, "I really do not know--"
"But I do know," interrupted the Emperor. "You have attempted to misleadme, and throw your own guilt on the shoulders of another."
"I--great Caesar? I have attempted--" began the Ligurian, while hispinched features turned an ashy grey. "You accused the steward of adishonorable trick," replied Hadrian. "But I know men well, and I knowthat no thief ever yet died of being called a scoundrel. It is onlyundeserved disgrace that can cost a man's life."
"Keraunus was full-blooded, and the shock when he learnt that you wereCaesar--"
"That shock accelerated the end no doubt," interrupted the monarch, "butthe mosaic in the steward's room is worth a million of sesterces, andnow I have seen enough to be quite sure that you are not the man to saveyour money when a work like that mosaic is offered you for sale--be thecircumstances what they may. If I see the case rightly, it was Keraunuswho refused your demand that he should resign to you the treasure in hischarge. Certainly, that was the case exactly! Now, leave me. I wish tobe alone."
Gabinius retired with many bows, walking backwards to the door, and thenturned his back on the palace of Lochias muttering many impotent cursesas he went.
The steward's new 'body-servant,' the old black woman, Mastor, thetailor and his slave, helped Arsinoe to carry her father's lifeless bodyand lay it on a couch, and the slave closed his eyes. He was dead--soeach told the despairing girl, but she would not, could not believe it.As soon as she was alone with the old negress and the dead, she liftedup his heavy, clumsy arm, and as soon as she let go her hold it fell byhis side like lead. She lifted the cloth from the dead man's face, butshe flung it over him again at once, for death had drawn his features.Then she kissed his cold hand and brought the children in and made themdo the same, and said sobbing:
"We have no father now; we shall never, never see him again."
The little blind boy felt the dead body with his hands, and asked hissister:
"Will he not wake again to-morrow morning and make you curl his hair,and take me up on his knee?"
"Never, never; he is gone, gone for ever."
As she spoke Mastor entered the room, sent by his master. Yesterday hadhe not heard from the overseer of the pavement-workers the comfortingtidings that after our grief and suffering here on earth there wouldbe another, beautiful, blissful and eternal life? He went kindly up toArsinoe and said:
"No, no, my children; when we are dead we become beautiful angels withcolored wings, and all who have loved each other here on earth will meetagain in the presence of the good God."
Arsinoe looked at the slave with disapproval.
"What is the use," she asked, "of cheating the children with sillytales? Their father is gone, quite gone, but we will never, never forgethim."
"Are there any angels with red wings?" asked the youngest little girl.
"Oh! I want to be an angel!" cried Helios, clapping his hands. "And canthe angels see?"
"Yes, dear little man," replied Mastor, "and their eyes are wonderfullybright, and all they look upon is beautiful."
"Tell them no more Christian nonsense," begged Arsinoe. "Ah! children,when we shall have burned our father's body there will be nothing leftof him but a few grey ashes."
But the slave took the little blind boy on his knees and whispered tohim:
"Only believe what I tell you--you will see him again in Heaven."
Then he set him down again, gave Arsinoe a little bag of gold pieces inCaesar's name, and begged her--for so his master desired--to find a newabode and, after the deceased was burned on the morrow, to quit Lochiaswith the children. When Mastor was gone Arsinoe opened the chest, inwhich lay her father's papyri and the money that Plutarch had paid forthe ivory cup, put in the heavy purse sent by the Emperor, comfortingherself while her tears flowed, with the reflection that she and thechildren were provided at any rate against immediate want.
But where was she to go with the little ones? Where could she hope tofind a refuge at once? What was to become of them when all they nowpossessed was spent. The gods be thanked! she was not forlorn; she stillhad friends. She could find protection and love with Pollux and look todame Doris for motherly counsel.
She quickly dried her eyes and changed the remains of her splendorfor the dark dress in which she was accustomed to work at the papyrusfactory; then, as soon as she had taken the pearls out of her hair, shewent down to the little gate-house.
She was only a few steps from the door--but why did not the Graces comespringing out to meet her? Why did she see no birds, no flowers in thewindow? Was she deceived, was she dreaming or was she tricked by someevil spirit? The door of the dear home-like little dwelling was wideopen and the sitting-room was absolutely empty, not a chattel was
leftbehind, forgotten--not a leaf from a plant was lying on the ground; fordame Doris, in her tidy fashion, had swept out the few rooms where shehad grown grey in peace and contentment as carefully as though she wereto come into them again to-morrow.
What had happened here? Where were her friends gone? A great terror cameover her, all the misery of desolation fell upon her, and as she sankupon the stone bench outside the gate-house to wait for the inhabitantswho must presently return, the tears again flowed from her eyes and fellin heavy drops on her hands as they lay in her lap.
She was still sitting there, thinking with a throbbing heart of Polluxand of the happy morning of this now dying day, when a troup of Moorishslaves came towards the deserted house. The head mason who led themdesired her to rise from the bench, and in answer to her questions, toldher that the little building was to be pulled down, and that the couplewho had inhabited it were evicted from their post, turned out of doorsand had gone elsewhere with all their belongings. But where Doris andher son had taken themselves no one knew. Arsinoe as she heard thesetidings felt like a sailor whose vessel has grounded on a rocky shore,and who realizes with horror that every plank and beam be neath himquivers and gapes. As usual, when she felt too weak to help herselfunaided, her first thought was of Selene, and she decided to hasten offto her and to ask her what she could do, what was to become of her andthe children.
It was already growing dark. With a swift step, and drying her eyes fromtime to time on her peplum as she went, she returned to her own roomto fetch a veil, without which she dared not venture so late into thestreets. On the steps--where the dog had thrown down Selene--she meta man hurrying past her; in the dim light she fancied he bore someresemblance to the slave that her father had bought the day before;but she paid no particular heed, for her mind was full of so many otherthings. In the kitchen sat the old negress in front of a lamp andthe children squatted round her; by the hearth sat the baker and thebutcher, to whom her father owed considerable sums and who had come toclaim their dues, for ill news has swifter wings than good tidings, andthey had already heard of the steward's death. Arsinoe took the lamp,begged the men to wait, went into the sitting-room, passing, not withouta shudder, the body of the man who a few hours since had stroked hercheeks and looked lovingly into her eyes.
How glad she felt to be able to pay her dead father's debts and save thehonor of his name! She confidently drew the key out of her pocket andwent up to the chest. What was this? She knew, quite positively, thatshe had locked it before going out and yet it was now standing wideopen; the lid, thrown back, hung askew by one hinge; the other wasbroken. A dread, a hideous suspicion, froze her blood; the lamp trembledin her hand as she leaned over the chest which ought to have containedevery thing she possessed. There lay the old documents, carefully rolledtogether, side by side, but the two bags with Plutarch's money and theEmperor's, had vanished. She took out one roll after another; then shetossed them all out on to the floor till the bottom of the chest wasbare--but the gold was really gone, nowhere to be found.
The new slave had forced open the lid of the chest and stolen the wholepossessions of the orphans of the man who, to gratify his own vanity,had brought him into the house.
Arsinoe screamed aloud, called in her creditors, explained to them allthat had occurred and implored them to pursue the thief; and when theyonly listened to her with an incredulous shrug, she swore that she wasspeaking the truth, and promised that whether the slave were caughtor not she would pay them with the price of her own and her father'spersonal ornaments. She knew the name of the dealer of whom her fatherhad bought the slave and told it to the unsatisfied dealers, who at lastleft her to follow up the thief as promptly as possible.
Once more Arsinoe was alone. Tearless, but shivering and scarcelymistress of herself from misery and agitation, she took out her veil,flung it over her head, and hurried through the court and along thestreets to her sister.
Verily, since Sabina's visit to the palace all good spirits had desertedit.