CHAPTER XXIV.
ALBANUM.
Sleep-drunk, with clouded brain, eyes that saw as in a dream, feet thatmoved involuntarily, Domitia descended from the litter and tottered in ata doorway when informed that she had reached her destination.
Where that was she did not care, whose house this was mattered nothing toher in her then condition of weariness.
Female slaves bearing lights received her and directed her steps to achamber where they would have divested her of her garments and put her tobed, had she not refused their assistance, thrown herself on the couch andin a moment fallen fast asleep.
The slaves looked at each other, whispered, and resolved not to torment byrousing her; they accordingly drew the heavy curtains of the doorway andleft her to her slumbers.
But weary though Domitia was, her sleep was not dreamless, the song of athousand nightingales that made the night musical reached her ears andpenetrated the doorways of her troubled brain and wove fantasies; theever-present sense of fear, not dissipated by slumber, weighed on her andgave sombre color to her dreams; the motion of the palanquin hadcommunicated itself in her fancy, to the bed, and that tossed and swayedunder her. Her weary feet seemed stung and burnt as though they had beenheld too close to the fire. Now she saw Lamia's face, and then it waswithdrawn; now her mother seemed to be calling to her from anever-increasing distance.
Yet troubled though her sleep was, it afforded her brain some rest, andshe woke in the morning at a later hour than usual, when by the strip ofwarm light below the curtains she was made aware that the sun had risen.
She started from sleep, passed her hand across her face, pressed herbrows, stepped to the doorway, pushed the curtains aside and looked outinto a little atrium, in which plashed a fountain, and where stood boxesof myrtles in full flower, steeping the atmosphere with fragrance.
At once two female servants came to her, bowed low and desired permissionto assist in dressing her.
With some hesitation she consented.
"Where am I?" she asked.
"By the lake of Alba," answered a dark-faced servant with hard lustrouseyes, and in a foreign dialect.
"In whose house?"
The slaves looked at each other, and made no reply.
Again she put the question.
"Lady, we are forbidden to say," answered one of the slaves.
"At Alba?" muttered Domitia.
Then, as the woman divested her of her tunic, something fell from herbosom on the mosaic floor. The maid stooped, picked it up and handed it toDomitia, who turned it in her palm and looked at it, at first withoutcomprehension. Then she recollected what this was--the amulet given her byGlyceria. It was a red cornelian fish pierced at one end and a fine goldring inserted in the hole, so that the stone might be suspended.
Domitia was not in a condition of mind to pay attention to the ornament,but she bade one of the servants thread a piece of silk through the ringthat she might wear the amulet about her neck, and then she allowedherself to be conducted to the bath.
With suspicious eyes the girl observed everything. She was obviously in acountry villa belonging to some Roman noble, and that villa beside theAlban Lake.
The AElii Lamiae had no country-house at this place, of that she was aware.She had heard some of the friends of her mother speak of the beauties ofthe Alban Lake, and then her mother had lamented that the family estatelay by the Gabian puddle. But she could not recall that any one of themhad a villa there.
When she left the bath she walked out of the doorway through the vestibuleand stood on the terrace.
Below was the sombre lake, almost circular, with the rolling woods of oakand beech flowing down the slopes to the very water's edge, here and therethe green covering interrupted by precipitous crags of tuffa. Yonder wasthe great ridge on which gleamed white the Temple of Jupiter Latiaris, thecentral shrine of the Latin races, the great pilgrimage place to which thecountry people turned in every distress.
She had not previously seen the Alban Lake, although Gabii had been herresidence for some months, and that was seated on a low spur of themountains, in the crater of one of which slept this tranquil and lovelysheet of water. But she knew enough about it by hearsay to be sure thatshe was not misinformed by the slaves as to where she now was. Shecertainly was beside that lake, near which once stretched Alba Longa, thecradle of the Roman race--a race of shepherds driven from its first seat byvolcanic fires, to settle beside the Tiber on the Palatine Hill.
That road along which she had been conveyed during the night was the greatAppian Way. It could have been none other, and that led, as she was aware,along the spurs of the Alban mountains.
She walked the terrace, her brow moist with anxious thought.
Why had she been carried off?
By whom had she been swept as by a hurricane from her husband's side?
A sense of numbness was on her brain still, caused by the shock. To LuciusLamia her heart had turned with the reverence she had borne to her father,with the sweetness and glow of girlish love for one who would be linkedwith her by a still nearer tie. She could not realize that she was partedfrom Lamia finally, irrevocably. She was in a waking dream: a dream ofgreat horror, but yet a dream that would roll away and reality wouldreturn. She would wake from it in the arms of her dear husband, lookinginto his eyes, clinging to his heart, hearing his words soothing her mind,allaying her terrors.
If at this time she could have conceived that to be possible whichnevertheless was to take place, she would have run to the lake and plungedinto its blue waters.
Singularly enough no thought of the vision in the temple of Isis recurredto her. Possibly she was in too stunned a condition of mind; possibly theeffects of the narcotic still hung about her, like the vapors that trailalong the landscape after a storm of rain at the break of the weather. Nothought of hers connected this outrage with Domitian. This was due to theimpression produced in her by conversation with her mother, who, shebelieved, was designing to secure Domitian for herself.
Moreover, the young prince had never shown her any favor. He hadstudiously neglected her, that he might address himself to Duilia. He hadtaunted her, sneered at her, but never spoken to her words that might beconstrued as a declaration of love. She recalled how she had urged hermother to expel him from the house when he sought refuge there; how shehad sought to thrust him forth to certain death, to deny him the rights ofhospitality. Such was enough to provoke resentment, not to awaken love.Her mother, on the other hand, had bound him to her by the tie ofgratitude, for she had saved him at that time of extreme peril.
Seeing the dark slave girl, Domitia signed to her to approach, and asked:
"Where are some of my family? Is not Euphrosyne here--or Eboracus?"
"Lady--none came with you save the servants of our master."
"And he?"
"Madam, I may not say."
"There is that Magus, Elymas; send him to me."
After some delay the sorcerer appeared, and approached, bowed and stoodsilent with hands crossed on his breast.
"Elymas," said Domitia, "I require you to enlighten me. What is themeaning of this? Why have I been carried away to Albanum? By whose ordershas this been done?"
He bowed again--paused, and then, with obvious uneasiness in his mannerreplied:--
"Destiny will be fulfilled."
"What mean you? Destiny! some drive it before them as a wheelbarrow, andsuch seem you to be. Why am I here and not in Lamia's house in Rome?"
"Did you not, lady, behold in vision that which was to be?"
She started, lost color and shivered.
"What mean you?"
"The purple."
"The purple! I desire no purple. You speak enigmatically. You have acted atreacherous part in forwarding this act of violence. I have been snatchedfrom my dear husband's side, the Gods who gave me to him have beenoutraged, I--I, a member of a noble house, a daughter of Domitius Corbulo,hav
e been treated as though the prey of a party of slave-hunters. Whatnext? Am I to be taken into the market-place, and sold by auction? Or am Icarried off by freebooters--to be let go for a price? Name me the captainof this robber band, and the price at which I may be ransomed. I promiseit shall be paid. But that condign chastisement be inflicted for thisinsult, that I will also guarantee. I thank the Gods, Rome is not on theconfines of the world, that these deeds can be perpetrated with impunity.We are not at Nizibis or Edessa to be fallen upon by Parthians, or held toransom by Armenians----"
"Young lady," said the Magian, "your words are high-sounding, but yourthreats are such as cannot be executed, nor is any price asked for yourredemption. When you set your foot on the Clivus Scauri, it is a narrowway, between high walls--and there is no option, you must go on. You cannotturn aside to right or left."
"I can turn back."
"The way is broken up behind. You must go forward."
"Whither?"
"Look!"
A number of male slaves came forth from the villa; they were in white.
"Do you know that livery?" asked the sorcerer.
Then Domitia uttered a cry of despair, and threw herself on the ground.Now she did know where she was, in whose power she was, and how hopelessit was for her to expect to escape.
The white was the Imperial livery.
"DOMITIA THREW HERSELF UPON THE GROUND." _Page 198._]