stranger arrived, she had not spoken a word. Shehad lost her mild and friendly expression. She had pushed her foodaside, and sat erect and rigid against the door-post, and staredstraight ahead, with a severe and stony countenance.
"It was the Emperor's intention that she should have a happy life," saidthe stranger. "But, despite all his kindly acts, she too has desertedhim."
The old woman gave a start at these words, but the young one laid herhand quietingly on her arm. Then she began to speak in her soft,sympathetic voice. "I can not believe that Faustina has been as happy atcourt as you say," she said, as she turned toward the stranger. "I amsure that she has loved Tiberius as if he had been her own son. I canunderstand how proud she has been of his noble youth, and I can evenunderstand how it must have grieved her to see him abandon himself inhis old age to suspicion and cruelty. She has certainly warned andadmonished him every day. It has been terrible for her always to pleadin vain. At last she could no longer bear to see him sink lower andlower."
The stranger, astonished, leaned forward a bit when he heard this; butthe young woman did not glance up at him. She kept her eyes lowered, andspoke very calmly and gently.
"Perhaps you are right in what you say of the old woman," he replied."Faustina has really not been happy at court. It seems strange,nevertheless, that she has left the Emperor in his old age, when she hadendured him the span of a lifetime."
"What say you?" asked the husband. "Has old Faustina left the Emperor?"
"She has stolen away from Capri without any one's knowledge," said thestranger. "She left just as poor as she came. She has not taken one ofher treasures with her."
"And doesn't the Emperor really know where she has gone?" asked thewife.
"No! No one knows for certain what road the old woman has taken. Still,one takes it for granted that she has sought refuge among her nativemountains."
"And the Emperor does not know, either, why she has gone away?" askedthe young woman.
"No, the Emperor knows nothing of this. He can not believe she left himbecause he once told her that she served him for money and gifts only,like all the rest. She knows, however, that he has never doubted herunselfishness. He has hoped all along that she would return to himvoluntarily, for no one knows better than she that he is absolutelywithout friends."
"I do not know her," said the young woman, "but I think I can tell youwhy she has left the Emperor. The old woman was brought up among thesemountains in simplicity and piety, and she has always longed to comeback here again. Surely she never would have abandoned the Emperor if hehad not insulted her. But I understand that, after this, she feels shehas the right to think of herself, since her days are numbered. If Iwere a poor woman of the mountains, I certainly would have acted as shedid. I would have thought that I had done enough when I had served mymaster during a whole lifetime. I would at last have abandoned luxuryand royal favors to give my soul a taste of honor and integrity beforeit left me for the long journey."
The stranger glanced with a deep and tender sadness at the young woman."You do not consider that the Emperor's propensities will become worsethan ever. Now there is no one who can calm him when suspicion andmisanthropy take possession of him. Think of this," he continued, as hismelancholy gaze penetrated deeply into the eyes of the young woman, "inall the world there is no one now whom he does not hate; no one whom hedoes not despise--no one!"
As he uttered these words of bitter despair, the old woman made a suddenmovement and turned toward him, but the young woman looked him straightin the eyes and answered: "Tiberius knows that Faustina will come backto him whenever he wishes it. But first she must know that her old eyesneed never more behold vice and infamy at his court."
They had all risen during this speech; but the vine-dresser and his wifeplaced themselves in front of the old woman, as if to shield her.
The stranger did not utter another syllable, but regarded the old womanwith a questioning glance. Is this _your_ last word also? he seemed towant to say. The old woman's lips quivered, but words would not passthem.
"If the Emperor has loved his old servant, then he can also let her liveher last days in peace," said the young woman.
The stranger hesitated still, but suddenly his dark countenancebrightened. "My friends," said he, "whatever one may say of Tiberius,there is one thing which he has learned better than others; and thatis--renunciation. I have only one thing more to say to you: If this oldwoman, of whom we have spoken, should come to this hut, receive herwell! The Emperor's favor rests upon any one who succors her."
He wrapped his mantle about him and departed the same way that he hadcome.
III
After this, the vine-dresser and his wife never again spoke to the oldwoman about the Emperor. Between themselves they marveled that she, ather great age, had had the strength to renounce all the wealth and powerto which she had become accustomed. "I wonder if she will not soon goback to Tiberius?" they asked themselves. "It is certain that she stillloves him. It is in the hope that it will awaken him to reason andenable him to repent of his low conduct, that she has left him."
"A man as old as the Emperor will never begin a new life," said thelaborer. "How are you going to rid him of his great contempt formankind? Who could go to him and teach him to love his fellow man? Untilthis happens, he can not be cured of suspicion and cruelty."
"You know that there is one who could actually do it," said the wife. "Ioften think of how it would turn out, if the two should meet. But God'sways are not our ways."
The old woman did not seem to miss her former life at all. After a timethe young wife gave birth to a child. The old woman had the care of it;she seemed so content in consequence that one could have thought she hadforgotten all her sorrows.
Once every half-year she used to wrap her long, gray mantle around her,and wander down to Rome. There she did not seek a soul, but wentstraight to the Forum. Here she stopped outside a little temple, whichwas erected on one side of the superbly decorated square.
All there was of this temple was an uncommonly large altar, which stoodin a marble-paved court under the open sky. On the top of the altar,Fortuna, the goddess of happiness, was enthroned, and at its foot was astatue of Tiberius. Encircling the court were buildings for the priests,storerooms for fuel, and stalls for the beasts of sacrifice.
Old Faustina's journeys never extended beyond this temple, where thosewho would pray for the welfare of Tiberius were wont to come. When shecast a glance in there and saw that both the goddess' and the Emperor'sstatue were wreathed in flowers; that the sacrificial fire burned; thatthrongs of reverent worshipers were assembled before the altar, andheard the priests' low chants sounding thereabouts, she turned aroundand went back to the mountains.
In this way she learned, without having to question a human being, thatTiberius was still among the living, and that all was well with him.
The third time she undertook this journey, she met with a surprise. Whenshe reached the little temple, she found it empty and deserted. No fireburned before the statue, and not a worshiper was seen. A couple ofdried garlands still hung on one side of the altar, but this was allthat testified to its former glory. The priests were gone, and theEmperor's statue, which stood there unguarded, was damaged andmud-bespattered.
The old woman turned to the first passer-by. "What does this mean?" sheasked. "Is Tiberius dead? Have we another Emperor?"
"No," replied the Roman, "Tiberius is still Emperor, but we have ceasedto pray for him. Our prayers can no longer benefit him."
"My friend," said the old woman, "I live far away among the mountains,where one learns nothing of what happens out in the world. Won't youtell me what dreadful misfortune has overtaken the Emperor?"
"The most dreadful of all misfortunes! He has been stricken with adisease which has never before been known in Italy, but which seems tobe common in the Orient. Since this evil has befallen the Emperor, hisfeatures are changed, his voice has become like an animal's grunt, and
his toes and fingers are rotting away. And for this illness thereappears to be no remedy. They believe that he will die within a fewweeks. But if he does not die, he will be dethroned, for such an ill andwretched man can no longer conduct the affairs of State. You understand,of course, that his fate is a foregone conclusion. It is useless toinvoke the gods for his success, and it is not worth while," he added,with a faint smile. "No one has anything more either to fear or hopefrom him. Why, then, should we trouble ourselves on his account?"
He nodded and walked away; but the old woman stood there as if stunned.
For the first time in her life she collapsed, and looked like one whomage has subdued. She stood with bent back and