CHAPTER V
THE LAGOONS
The men who carried and surrounded AEmilius proceeded in rapid march,chanting a rhythmic song, through the town till they emerged on a sort ofquay beside a wide-spreading shallow lagoon. Here were moored numerousrafts.
"Now, sir," said one of the men, as AEmilius leaped to the ground, "if youwill take my advice, you will allow us to convey you at once to Arelate.This is hardly a safe place for you at present."
"I must thank you all, my gallant fellows, for your timely aid. But foryou I should have been forced to eat of the dedicated cakes, and such asare out of favor with the god--or, rather, with the priesthood that livesby him, as cockroaches and black beetles by the baker--such are liable toget stomach aches, which same stomach aches convey into the land where areno aches and pains. I thank you all."
"Nay, sir, we did our duty. Are not you patron of the Utriculares?"
"I am your patron assuredly, as you did me the honor to elect me. If Ihave lacked zeal to do you service in time past, henceforward be wellassured I will devote my best energies to your cause."
"We are beholden to you, sir."
"I to you--the rather."
Perhaps the reader will desire to understand who the wind-bag men were whohad hurried to the rescue of AEmilius. For the comprehension of thisparticular, something must be said relative to the physical character ofthe country.
The mighty Rhone that receives the melted snows of the southern slope ofthe Bernese Oberland and the northern incline of the opposed Pennine Alpsreceives also the drain of the western side of the Jura, as well as thatof the Graian and Cottian Alps. The Durance pours in its auxiliary floodbelow Avignon.
After a rapid thaw of snow, or the breaking of charged rain clouds on themountains, these rivers increase in volume, and as the banks of the Rhonebelow the junction of the Durance and St. Raphael are low, it overflowsand spreads through the flat alluvial delta. It would be more exact to saythat it was wont to overflow, rather than that it does so now. For atpresent, owing to the embankments thrown up and maintained at enormouscost, the Rhone can only occasionally submerge the low-lying land, whereasanciently such floods were periodical and as surely expected as those ofthe Nile.
The overflowing Rhone formed a vast region of lagoons that extended fromTarascon and Beaucaire to the Gulf of Lyons, and spread laterally over theCrau on one side to Nimes on the other. Nimes itself stood on its ownriver, the Vistre, but this fed marshes and "broads" that were connectedwith the tangle of lagoons formed by the Rhone.
Arelate, the great emporium of the trade between Gaul and Italy, occupieda rocky islet in the midst of water that extended as far as the eye couldreach. This tract of submerged land was some sixty miles in breadth byforty in depth, was sown with islets of more or less elevation and extent.Some were bold, rocky eminences, others were mere rubble and sand-banksformed by the river. Arelate or Arles was accessible by vessels up anddown the river or by rafts that plied the lagoons, and by the canalconstructed by Marius, that traversed them from Fossoe Marino. As thecanal was not deep, and as the current of the river was strong, ships wereoften unable to ascend to the city through these arteries, and had todischarge their merchandise on the coast upon rafts that conveyed it tothe great town, and when the floods permitted, carried much to Nemausus.
As the sheets of water were in places and at periods shallow, the raftswere made buoyant, though heavily laden, by means of inflated skins andbladders placed beneath them.
As the conveyance of merchandise engaged a prodigious number of persons,the raftsmen had organized themselves into the guild of Utriculares, orWind-bag men, and as they became not infrequently involved in contestswith those whose interests they crossed, and on whose privileges theyinfringed, they enlisted the aid of lawyers to act as their patrons, tobully their enemies, and to fight their battles against assailants. Amongthe numerous classic monumental inscriptions that remain in Provence,there are many in which a man of position is proud to have it recordedthat he was an honorary member of the club of the inflated-skin men.
Nemausus owed much of its prosperity to the fact that it was the tradecenter for wool and for skins. The Cevennes and the great limestoneplateaux that abut upon them nourished countless herds of goats and flocksof sheep, and the dress of everyone at the period being of wool the demandfor fleeces was great; consequently vast quantities of wool were broughtfrom the mountains of Nimes, whence it was floated away on rafts sustainedby the skins that came from the same quarter.
The archipelago that studded the fresh-water sea was inhabited byfishermen, and these engaged in the raft-carriage. The district presenteda singular contrast of high culture and barbarism. In Arles, Nimes,Narbonne there was a Greek element. There was here and there an infusionof Phoenician blood. The main body of the people consisted of the duskyLigurians, who had almost entirely lost their language, and had adoptedthat of their Gaulish conquerors, the Volex. These latter weredistinguished by their fair hair, their clear complexions, their stalwartframes. Another element in the composite mass was that of the colonists.After the battle of Actium, Augustus had rewarded his Egypto-Greekauxiliaries by planting them at Nemausus, and giving them half the estatesof the Gaulish nobility. To these Greeks were added Roman merchants,round-headed, matter-of-fact looking men, destitute of imagination, butfull of practical sense.
These incongruous elements that in the lapse of centuries have been fused,were, at the time of this tale, fairly distinct.
"You are in the right, my friends," said AEmilius. "The kiln is heated toohot for comfort. It would roast me. I will go even to Arelate, if you willbe good enough to convey me thither."
"With the greatest of pleasure, sir."
AEmilius had an office at Arles. He was a lawyer, but his headquarters wereat Nemausus, to which town he belonged by birth. He represented a goodfamily, and was descended from one of the colonists under Agrippa andAugustus. His father was dead, and though he was not wealthy, he was welloff, and possessed a villa and estates on the mountain sides, at somedistance from the town. In the heats of summer he retired to his villa.
On this day of March there had been a considerable gathering of raftsmenat Nemausus, who had utilized the swollen waters in the lagoons for theconveyance of merchandise.
AEmilius stepped upon a raft that seemed to be poised on bubbles, so lightwas it on the surface of the water, and the men at once thrust from landwith their poles.
The bottom was everywhere visible, owing to the whiteness of the limestonepebbles and the sand that composed it, and through the water dartedinnumerable fish. The liquid element was clear. Neither the Vistre nor thestream from the fountain brought down any mud, and the turbid Rhone haddeposited all its sediment before its waters reached and mingled withthose that flowed from the Cebennae. There was no perceptible current. Theweeds under water were still, and the only thing in motion were thedarting fish.
The raftmen were small, nimble fellows, with dark hair, dark eyes andpleasant faces. They laughed and chatted with each other over the incidentof the rescue of their patron, but it was in their own dialect,unintelligible to AEmilius, to whom they spoke in broken Latin, in whichwere mingled Greek words.
Now and then they burst simultaneously into a wailing chant, and theninterrupted their song to laugh and gesticulate and mimic those who hadbeen knocked over by their wind-bags.
As AEmilius did not understand their conversation and their antics did notamuse him, he lay on the raft upon a wolfskin that had been spread overthe timber, looking dreamily into the water and at the white goldenflowers of the floating weeds through which the raft was impelled. Theripples caused by the displacement of the water caught and flashed the sunin his eyes like lightning.
His mind reverted to what had taken place, but unlike the raftmen he didnot consider it from its humorous side. He wondered at himself for theactive part he had taken. He wondered at himself for having acted withoutpremeditatio
n. Why had he interfered to save the life of a girl whom hehad not known even by name? Why had he been so indiscreet as to involvehimself in a quarrel with his fellow-citizens in a matter in no wayconcerning him? What had impelled him so rashly to bring down on himselfthe resentment of an influential and powerful body?
The youth of Rome and of the Romanized provinces was at the time of theempire very blase. It enjoyed life early, and wearied rapidly of pleasure.It became skeptical as to virtue, and looked on the world of men withcynical contempt. It was selfish, sensual, cruel. But in AEmilius there wassomething nobler than what existed in most; the perception of what wasgood and true was not dead in him; it had slept. And now the face ofPerpetua looked up at him out of the water. Was it her beauty that had soattracted him as to make him for a moment mad and cast his cynicism aside,as the butterfly throws away the chrysalis from which it breaks? No,beautiful indeed she was, but there was in her face somethinginexpressible, undefinable, even mentally; something conceivable in agoddess, an aura from another world, an emanation from Olympus. It wasnothing that was subject to the rule. It was not due to proportion; itcould be seized by neither painter nor sculptor. What was it? That puzzledhim. He had been fascinated, lifted out of his base and selfish self torisk his life to do a generous, a noble act. He was incapable ofexplaining to himself what had wrought this sudden change in him.
He thought over all that had taken place. How marvelous had been theserenity with which Perpetua had faced death! How ready she was to castaway life when life was in its prime and the world with all its pleasureswas opening before her! He could not understand this. He had seen men diein the arena, but never thus. What had given the girl that look, as thougha light within shone through her features? What was there in her that madehim feel that to think of her, save with reverence, was to commit asacrilege?
In the heart of AEmilius there was, though he knew it not, something ofthat same spirit which pervaded the best of men and the deepest thinkersin that decaying, corrupt old world. All had acquired a disbelief invirtue because they nowhere encountered it, and yet all were animated witha passionate longing for it as the ideal, perhaps the unattainable, butthat which alone could make life really happy.
It was this which disturbed the dainty epicureanism of Horace, which gaveverjuice to the cynicism of Juvenal, which roused the savage bitterness ofPerseus. More markedly still, the craving after this better life, on whatbased, he could not conjecture, filled the pastoral mind of Virgil, andalmost with a prophet's fire, certainly with an aching desire, he sang ofthe coming time when the vestiges of ancient fraud would be swept away andthe light of a better day, a day of truth and goodness would break on thetear- and blood-stained world.
And now this dim groping after what was better than he had seen; thisinarticulate yearning after something higher than the sordid round ofpleasure; this innate assurance that to man there is an ideal of spiritualloveliness and perfection to which he can attain if shown the way--all thisnow had found expression in the almost involuntary plunge into theNemausean pool. He had seen the ideal, and he had broken with the regnantpaganism to reach and rescue it.
"What, my AEmilius! like Narcissus adoring thine incomparable self in thewater!"
The young lawyer started, and an expression of annoyance swept over hisface. The voice was that of Callipodius.
"Oh, my good friend," answered AEmilius, "I was otherwise engaged with mythoughts than in thinking of my poor self."
"Poor! with so many hides of land, vineyards and sheep-walks and olivegroves! Aye, and with a flourishing business, and the possession of amatchless country residence at Ad Fines."
"Callipodius," said the patron, "thou art a worthy creature, and lackestbut one thing to make thee excellent."
"And what is that?"
"Bread made without salt is insipid, and conversation seasoned withflattery nauseates. I have heard of a slave who was smeared with honey andexposed on a cross to wasps. When thou addressest me I seem to feel asthough thou wast dabbing honey over me."
"My AEmilius! But where would you find wasps to sting you?"
"Oh! they are ready and eager--and I am flying them--all the votaries ofNemausus thou hast seen this day. As thou lovest me, leave me to myself,to rest. I am heavy with sleep, and the sun is hot."
"Ah! dreamer that thou art. I know that thou art thinking of the fairPerpetua, that worshiper of an----"
"Cease; I will not hear this." AEmilius made an angry gesture. Then hestarted up and struck at his brow. "By Hercules! I am a coward, flying,flying, when she is in extreme peril. Where is she now? Maybe thosesavages, those fools, are hunting after her to cast her again into thebasin, or to thrust poisoned cakes into her mouth. By the Sacred Twins! Iam doing that which is unworthy of me--that for which I could nevercondone. I am leaving the feeble and the helpless, unassisted, unprotectedin extremity of danger. Thrust back, my good men! Thrust back! I cannot toArelate. I must again to Nemausus!"