CHAPTER XXIII.
THE END OF THE DAY.
A rumor, none knew from whom it arose, spread rapidly in whispers, sendinga quiver of alarm, distress, pity, through the entire wedding party,reaching last of all him most concerned.
None dared breathe in his ear what all feared; but none would separatetill it was surely ascertained whether what was surmised was a fact ornot.
The slaves knew it and looked wistfully at Lamia.
He was engaged in making trifling presents to the many guests andwell-wishers, moving from one to another, attended by slaves with trayspiled up with gifts.
Eboracus burst on him, through the throng, forgetting, in his agitationand fear, the diffidence that belonged to his position.
"Sir! Where is the mistress?"
Lamia, without looking at him, or desisting from what he was about,answered:
"Within, being freed from her veil and bridal ornaments."
"Sir! Lucius! she has been stolen from you! she has been carried away."
Lamia stood as one petrified.
"How dare you utter such a jest?"
"It is no jest--she has been conveyed hence. She is not in your house."
Without another word, Lamia flew into the portion of the house to whichDomitia had retired.
There all was in confusion. The female slaves were either struck down withterror, or crying out that they were not to blame.
"Where is she?" asked Lamia, hardly realizing that there was actual loss,thinking this was some frolic of his young companions, who on suchoccasions allowed themselves great licence.
To add to the confusion, a tame magpie with clipped wing, belonging to thegouty old Lamia, got in the way of every one, and screamed when run over;and the elder man roared out reproach and brandished his crutch when thelife of his pet was endangered.
Claudia, like a pious woman, had rushed to the _lararium_ to supplicatethe assistance of the Gods, especially of Lamius, son of Hercules andOmphale, the reputed half-divine ancestor of the family.
Domitia had disappeared.--How?--none could say. She had been spirited away,one said in this manner, another said in that. One held it as his opinionthat she had been carried off by some disbanded Vitellian soldiers whowere said to lurk about the suburbs of Rome and commit depredations. Somethought that in maiden shyness she had fled home; some whispered that theGods had translated her; others that a former lover had suborned theservants to admit him, and that he had conveyed her from her husband'shouse to his own.
But in what direction had she been taken? There again opinions differed,and tongues gave conflicting accounts. One had seen a litter hurried downthe Clivus Scauri. One declared that he had seen a girl running in thedirection of Nero's lake, and suggested that this was Domitia who had gonethither to destroy herself. One had noticed suspicious-looking men wrappedin military cloaks lounging about, and these had disappeared--he had evenseen the backs of some near the Porta Metrovia. Then one cried out:--
"What else can be expected when such an ill-omened bird is kept in thehouse, as a magpie?"
Not until all guests, visitors, had been excluded from the house, couldanything be learned with certainty, and that was little. During theafternoon, shortly before the arrival of the procession, several male andfemale slaves had arrived under the direction of a Chaldaean soothsayer,who announced that he had been sent along with them to the house of thebridegroom by the bride's mother, the Lady Duilia, and that they formed aportion of Domitia's attendance, who had been associated with her in herformer home, and would be about her person in her new quarters. Nosuspicion had been roused, and as the Magian spoke with authority, andgave directions, which it was presumed he was commissioned to do, and asold Lamia was crippled with gout and moreover indisposed to attend to suchmatters, and the old lady was simple to childishness, these strangers weresuffered to do much what they pleased; and on the bride retiring to bedivested of the flame colored veil, her wreath and other ornaments, hadbeen allowed to take possession of her.
What happened further they did not know. In the excitement of the arrivalof visitors nothing had been observed till some of the household servantsremarked that the servants of the family of Duilia had left,--that therehad been a bustle in the garden court, and that a litter had departed,borne by men who ran under their load. But even then no notion that thebride had been carried off was entertained. For some time no suspicion ofmischief arose. When the slaves became aware that their new mistress wasno longer in the house, there was first some surprise entertained that shewas not seen, then a notion that she might be unwell or over-tired--but thefirst word that suggested that she had been conveyed away came fromwithout the house, from a guest who inquired casually what lady had leftthe house, in a litter, borne by trotting porters. Lamia, in violentagitation, at once hurried to the house whence Domitia had come, to askfor an explanation. There he learned nothing satisfactory. No servants hadbeen sent beforehand. Domitia had taken with her two female slaves, butthey had attended her in the procession. The sorcerer, it was true, haddisappeared and had not returned.
Lamia was obliged to return home, without his anxiety being in any wayremoved.
On reaching his palace on the Coelian, he learned something further. In theroom in which Domitia had been divested of her bridal ornaments, which layscattered in disorder, was a crystal cup that contained the dregs of wine,and this wine was drugged with a powerful narcotic. Of this the slave whoacted as house-surgeon and physician was certain. He had tasted it anddetected the presence of an opiate. Nothing further could be learned,neither whence came the strange slaves nor whither they had gone.
In the mean time a party surrounding a closed litter had passed throughthe Porta Capena, and was hurrying along the Appian Way.
Directly the city was left, a tall man who directed the convoy called ahalt;--then approaching the litter, he drew back the curtains, and said:--
"Asleep! Two of you take her up, lift her, set her on her feet and rouseher."
He was obeyed and a helpless body was removed, sustained between two stoutslaves, and made to stand on the causeway.
"Shake her," said the director, who was none other than the Chaldaean. "Ifshe sleep on, she will never wake. Roused and made to walk she must be. Weneed fear no pursuit. I have left those behind who will spread a falserumor, and send such as think she has been carried away along the wrongroad. Make her walk."
The helpless girl--it was Domitia--staggered with drowsiness and stumbled.
"Let me sleep," she murmured.
"It must not be, lady. To let you sleep is to consign you to death. Youmust be constrained to walk."
"Let me sleep!" she fretfully said.
"If you sleep you die."
"I want to die--only to sleep. I am dead weary."
"Make her move along," said the sorcerer in a low tone, and the slaves whoheld her up drew her forward. She scarce moved her feet.
"Oh, you are cruel. I want to sleep. An hour! half an hour. For one momentlonger!" she pleaded.
Still the bearers drew her forward, they did not lift her so that she neednot move her feet. She was constrained to step forward.
"I pray you! I will give you gold. You shall have all my jewels. Lay medown. Let go your hold, and I will lie where I am, and sleep."
"Draw her further.--Hark! here come horses. Aside! behind that tomb!"
The party stole from off the road and secreted itself behind one of themausoleums that line the sides of the Appian Way.
"Shake her--lest she doze off in your arms," said Elymas, and the slavesobeyed.
Then Domitia began to sob. "Have pity! only for a little while, I am sotired. The day has been so long and so wearying."
"They are passed--mere travellers," said the sorcerer. "Into the roadagain. Force her to walk."
Then she called, "Lamia--my Lucius! come to me, drive these men away. Theywill not let me sleep," and she struggled to free herself, and unable
todo so by a spasmodic effort, began to sob, and sobbed herself into a halfdoze.
"She is sleeping. Run with her," called the Magus.
In vain did she weep, entreat, threaten, naught availed, she was forced toadvance; now to take a few steps, to rest on her feet, to walk inactuality. The very anger she felt at not being allowed to cast herselfdown, fold her hands under her head, and drop off into unconsciousness,tended to rouse her.
After about half an hour, her entreaties to be allowed to rest became lessfrequent, and alternated with inquiries as to where she was, whither shewas going, why she was forced to walk, and that at night. Then she ceasedaltogether to complain of drowsiness, and finding she met with no responseto her inquiries as to her destination, she became silent; she was nowconscious, but her brain was clouded, perplexed. She could remembernothing that would account for her present position. Whether she were in adream, laboring under nightmare, she could not tell, and purposely shestruck her foot against one of the paving blocks of lava, and by the painassured herself that she was actually awake.
But where was she?
She looked up. The sky was besprent with stars, a sky limpid, tender,vaporless and vast, out of which the stars throbbed with iridescent lightin all the changeful flicker of topaz, emerald and ruby. And the air wasfull of flying stars, in tens of thousands, they settled on rushes by theroadside in chains of fire, they flashed across the eyes, they settleddown on the dress; and out of the cool grass shone the steady lustre ofinnumerable glow-worms.
The milky way, like an illumined veil, crossed the vault, vaporous,transparent with stars shining through it.
From the black monuments on each side hooted the owls, bats swept by,diving out of night to brush by the passers along the road and plunge backinto night, like old forgotten fancies of the dreaming mind, that recurand vanish again, in waking hours. Out of the grass the crickets shrilled,and frogs called with flutelike tones at intervals, whilst othersmaintained an incessant chatter.
Where was she? What were these great fantastic edifices on each side ofthe road? They were no houses, for out of none glimmered a light. Nooccupants stood in the doors, or sang and piped on the threshold. Thesewere no taverns, for no host invited to rest within, and praised his fare.The road was forsaken, still as death, and these mansions were thedwellings of the dead. She knew this now--that she was on one of the roadsthat led from the gates of Rome, lined with tombs. How she had got thereshe knew not. Least of all did she know for what reason she was beingdragged along it. She had thus trudged for a considerable time; she hadceased to speak. She was occupied with her thoughts. Weary she was, but intoo great anguish of mind to be aware how weary she was, till tripping ona stone she fell.
Then a voice said:--
"She is full awake now. There is naught to fear. Let her again mount thelitter."
"Elymas!" exclaimed the girl, "I know you, I know your voice. What meansthis? Whither am I being taken?"
"Madam," said the sorcerer in reply, after a pause, "your own eyes shallanswer the question better than my lips, to-morrow."