CHAPTER VIII.
It was past midnight. The Christians of the Subura had once moreassembled in the quarry between the Appian and the Labicanian Ways.Among them stood Quintus, who had joined the congregation to-day forthe first time.
The subterranean hall--not the small square vault where Eurymachus hadtaken refuge, but a large oval space, whose natural roof was here andthere supported by pillars of artificial construction--was lighted bya lamp with five arms, which hung from the smoke-blackened vault. Oneach side, close to the wall, a natural ledge of tufa served for seats.These were given up to women and girls, mostly very humbly dressed,while the men occupied the farther end of the hall, some standing, somesitting on wooden stools, and some squatting on the ground.
Quintus was leaning, with eager, glistening eyes, against a pillar thatwas so built into a wall as to form a semicircular niche at one end ofthe hall, and opposite to him, against the corresponding pillar, stoodThrax Barbatus, his sinewy arms crossed over his breast.
The attention of the congregation had at first been centered onQuintus--who was welcomed with astonishment as a member of thelittle band--but it had gradually been diverted to another object.Behind an arm-chair stood the tall and commanding figure of anold man, who looked ninety at least. His still upright bearing andhis weather-tanned face showed him to be a soldier; and yet anexpression of touching gentleness and benevolence marked his features,a melancholy and tender gleam, as it were, that played round hisexpressive lips and half-closed eyes. Those eyes were blind, darkenedby the unwholesome gloom of the Sardinian mines,[67] where, for threeyears, the old man had been buried alive. They were used to light, andto the free airs of heaven, those bright, bold warrior's eyes; andwhen Tigellinus,[68] Nero's favorite, had thrust him into blackness,because he had refused to tender false evidence, they grew feveredand dim in the twilight depths, and at last had darkened into endlessnight. The fall of Nero restored him to liberty. He had been taken onboard ship by some kind-hearted mariners, carried first to Athens andthen to Corinth, where his brethren in the faith received him gladly,and took charge of his maintenance. For some years he lived thus, azealous member of the infant congregation, and a faithful guardian andpreacher of the gospel. But at last he could contain himself there nolonger. His homesickness for Rome, his native city, which he loved inspite of all her sins and crimes with the passion of a true-born Roman,grew more irresistible every day. An Egyptian merchant, who esteemedhim highly, after taking him a long sea-voyage, brought him at last tothe harbor of Ostia. For many weeks the venerable stranger had wanderedin vain through all the fourteen regions of the city, hoping to findsome friend of his early years; they were all without exception deadand gone. One day he sat down, sadly leaning on his staff, on the stepof a fountain not far from the temple on the Quirinal. Here he wasfound by Euterpe, who, filled with pity, addressed the blind old man.They soon made the discovery that they were of the same faith, and nowfor five or six days he had been sharing the home of Diphilus; andthough, at first, this had been somewhat of a burden to the carpenter,the liberality of Quintus Claudius had relieved him of all anxiety.
Calenus was now telling the assembled Christians some of the adventuresof his youth, when he was fighting in Palestine. Eager devoutness wasstamped on every face that watched him.
"Yes, my beloved," he said, and his voice sank to deeper solemnity, "Ican remember every detail as if it were yesterday. But I knew not whatI was doing. My heart was holden, and my soul was darkened. It was nottill long, long after, that the grace of God enlightened me.... It wasat the time when the Jews keep their Passover. Our division had beensent to guard the state-prison, but I and a few of my comrades had beenwarned to keep ourselves ready to march at any moment, and withinan hour the word was given to set out. We joined a noisy procession,headed by the Roman eagles, which flowed on up the hill where criminalsare executed, outside Jerusalem. We could scarcely see or hear what wastaking place, the people shrieked and howled so incessantly, evidentlyinflamed to the highest pitch by their priests and the scribes.However, we were ordered to let them have their way. At last, when Iasked a woman what all the tumult was about, she replied: 'They aregoing to crucify Jesus, the King of the Jews.'"
He ceased and bowed his head, as one self-convicted, and a death-likesilence reigned in the room.
"Ah, my brethren!" he went on presently, in a tone of deep sorrow."Would that some angel of God had been near in that awful hour to openmy heart! In the ear of a heathen soldier, that name sounded like anyother. Darkened and in ignorance, I kept guard on the spot where mySaviour was to die."
Again he bowed his penitent head. But soon looking up again withrenewed and joyful eagerness, he told them he had been mercifullypermitted to see from afar the sublime face of the man, whom he hadlearned, years after, to recognize as the Redeemer of mankind. Thepale features which had looked down on him, as in a vision, had beenindelibly graven on his soul, and later, when the tidings of salvationhad come home to him, the image had risen to new life, and shoneradiantly upon him, like a star of promise, through the darkness of hissufferings and sorrows.
When Calenus ceased speaking, no one for some time ventured to breakthe silence. Glauce, who was shedding quiet tears and recalling herdear Eurymachus, mixing up in her fancy the vision of the Nazarenewith the picture of her lover, looked up at the speaker like aworshipper at his divinity. To the rest, indeed, the hoary old man, onwhom a ray from that Sun had once fallen, appeared as a superior being,and presently, when the spell of silence was broken, they all crowdedround him to kiss his hands with fervent devotion, or even the hem ofhis garment.
The wonderful tale had made an almost weird impression upon Quintus.His fancy was haunted by the face of the pale sufferer, who, at thatfirst meeting in Domitian's park, had stirred him to such new andunwonted feelings. A shudder, such as he had never felt before, shookhim from head to foot, and his whole nature seemed to float away intothe rarer air of incomprehensible mysticism.
While the band of Christians sat listening in absorbed silence to thewords of Calenus, a troop of armed men were setting forth from theEsquiline--twenty stout fellows armed with spears and short swords.They were led by a stalwart veteran, who had won the rank of centurionon the battle-fields of Germany; on his left walked a torch-bearer,on his right a handsome, active stripling--Antinous, the steward'sslave. They marched to the south-east along the Via Labicana, andtheir regular tramp marked time on the pavement. Now and again a swordrattled or a piece of mail; now and again the leader muttered a short,sharp question, which the slave hastily answered. The ruddy light,that fell on his pretty girlish face, lent a witch-like effect to hisfeatures. It was thus that the Greek myth represented the beguilingSirens: beautiful but fateful. The centurion himself was not quite atease in the company of the supple youth, and he betrayed it not merelyby the roughness of his address, but, even more, by his lowering brow,and the expression of aversion and contempt that curled his lips.
At the spot where, on a former occasion, Quintus had come upon theroad with Eurymachus in his litter, the party halted. The centurionglanced keenly across the fields in the direction pointed out to himby Antinous, and he knew the country better than the Greek, whose onlyidea was to go in the same line as he had then come by, like a wildanimal. After closely cross-questioning the slave, he made his men goforward by the road about five hundred paces farther, and thus reacheda fairly-beaten bridle-path, nearly parallel to the line which Quintushad taken across hedge and ditch. They passed under the arches of theAqua Marcia, again, soon after, under those of the Aqua Claudia, andthen they were in view of the pine wood, which looked like a black,fantastically-shaped cloud against the sky.
When the file of men were within a few paces of it, the torch wasextinguished, as the uncovered light could not be carried through thebrushwood, and a small horn lantern was lighted instead. The centuriondoubted whether he had not better leave some of his men outside.However, as the wood extended for a considera
ble distance to thesouth-east, there were objections to this plan. It would have takenhalf a legion to guard every possible exit as far as the spurs of theAlban Hills, and besides, Antinous asserted positively that they couldreach the entrance to the quarry without any fear of discovery, as itwas so effectually screened by the thicket, that the Nazarenes believedthemselves to be in perfect security. In fact, they never even set awatch; so that he had lately ventured fifteen paces or more into thewide cross-gallery, without being detected.
One after the other, the armed men entered the wood. Antinous had takenthe lantern; in three minutes they were at the laurel bushes whichscreened the opening of the quarry; Antinous triumphantly parted theboughs.
"Here!" he said proudly, "with a twist of your thumb you have them allas safe as hares in a trap."
The little band of Christians, who were thus overtaken by their fate,were in the act of kneeling for a common prayer, when heavy steps andthe rattle of arms were suddenly heard in the passage. All startedin terror to their feet. A few instantly dropped on their kneesagain, wringing their hands. The women and girls clung to each otherin despair. Some of the younger men, and with them Thrax Barbatus,assumed an air of sullen determination, which threatened desperateresistance on their part, while others stood motionless and unmoved indull resignation. Among them there were a few faces that beamed withthe transport of sacred ecstasy, and Quintus and Calenus were perhapsthe only two, who betrayed no sign in their faces of what was passingin their minds. Before it was possible even to think of flight, theold centurion was standing in the door-way, his drawn sword gleamingominously: behind him shone the helmets of his men-at-arms.
A loud cry rose from the congregation; Thrax Barbatus flung off hiscloak, and drew the dagger he had concealed under it.
"Whoever tries to escape is a dead man!" shouted the soldier, givinga sign to his men. In a minute they were ranged round the hall to theright and left.
Quintus, who was likewise armed, grasped his sword-hilt convulsively.He glanced round at the little congregation; the fight would be toounequal, simply ridiculous, but he felt he must attempt it. His swordflashed from its sheath; but at that instant Antinous sprang upon himfrom one side and, with the strength of desperation, clutched his rightarm. Before Quintus could shake him off he was surrounded by soldiers,his weapon was wrenched from him, and six or eight sinewy hands heldhis arms and shoulders with the grip of a vice. The centurion came upto him with his sword point downwards.
"My lord," he said, "you see--resistance is hopeless."
"What do you want of us?" asked Quintus, with a defiant sparkle in hisglance.
"My lord, you know."
"And do you know me?"
"Who that lives in Rome, can fail to know the son of Titus Claudius?"
"Well--and yet you seize me as if I were a thief?"
"I am doing my duty--I am seeking the Nazarenes."
"And you have found them!" exclaimed Antinous, still breathless fromhis exertions.
"Who is this boy?" asked Quintus, with a feeling of unutterableloathing.
"I? I am Antinous, Stephanus' boy," he answered audaciously. "I bringyou my master's greetings, and"--he added in a whisper--"those of yourimperial neighbor, the lady of Baiae...."
"Silence!" said the centurion, sternly. "You have done your part! Takeyourself off--instantly."
Quintus breathed hard and deep. He understood only too well all thatthe impudent young villain's words conveyed. The captain did not givehim much time to indulge his feelings.
"My lord," he said, "you are my prisoner. If you will swear to me notto attempt to escape, nor to lay violent hands upon yourself, I willtake the risk of leaving you unfettered. This one, however, I must putin chains, and if you have any influence over him, advise him that hehad better submit quietly."
"Never!" roared Thrax Barbatus, flourishing his short sword. "Let usfight, my brethren--fight, and die fighting. The martyr's crown awaitsnot those alone who suffer, but those who fight too."
"Cease!" said old Calenus. "Who dares to speak so blasphemously here?Will you sin as Peter sinned in the garden of Gethsemane? Will youshed your brother's blood like Cain? Woe unto ye blind! Not thus mayye win Heaven, but eternal punishment!" The blind man's words, spokenin a sort of prophetic exaltation, made a deep impression. Those who amoment since had stood forth in defiance, now bent their heads. ThraxBarbatus alone stood his ground.
"Do you think," he shouted in a voice of thunder, "that the Son ofGod, who lashed the dealers and money-changers out of the Temple witha scourge, was a lamb? He was a lion, that only force could overcome!The Saviour preached to slaves, that their lives and their rights areas precious as those of their tyrants! He, who breaks the chains of theprisoner, will have nothing to say to cowards and fools. Glauce, comeclose to me--your tender body shall never be meat for the lions ofGaetulia! Pray, Glauce--pray.--And may the Lord Jesus Christ have mercyupon us!"
He held the girl tightly clasped in his arms.
"Give yourselves up to the inscrutable counsels of God!" said thesolemn, prophetic voice of the blind man.
"Amen," rose from the lips of the congregation.
"Put them in chains," the centurion said. But Quintus, with calmdignity, requested a hearing.
"One word," he said, turning to the centurion. "That scurvy slave hasmisled you. I swear to you on my honor, centurion, this nocturnalsurprise was only intended for me. Here I am, take me with you! I willfollow you; carry me in chains to the city, and you may be perfectlycertain, that you have all the prey you need show. But these poorwretches, who stand here trembling as to their fate--let them go free;let them go on their way unhindered. They only came here to see for thelast time the halls where they have, until now, celebrated the rites oftheir faith. They have no intention of defying the law."
"Who is there here that will deny his Saviour?" Again it was the blindprophet that spoke. "We are faithful to confess Christ crucified. Hisname be praised and blessed forever!"
Quintus was silent, and a shade of deep trouble fell on his face.
"Well, then," he said, turning away, "do your duty."
The mercenaries pushed forward. The Christians, none of whom were armedexcept Thrax and Quintus, submitted at once. Thrax alone withdrewfarther and farther into the niche; his left arm still held up Glauce,who leaned only half-conscious on his shoulder, and in his right hestill clutched the dagger. The soldiers came up with him.
"Come, old man, make short work of it!" cried the foremost. "You seethere are a score of us."
Close to Thrax and Glauce Euterpe was kneeling by a pillar. In her wildanguish she had thrown her arms round the cold stone, and was murmuringvehement prayers. Now, looking up a moment, a shrill and piercingshriek broke from her lips, and she fell backwards on the earth, whereshe lay senseless. Instead of answering the soldier, Thrax Barbatus hadraised the dagger, and thrust it to the very hilt in Glauce's side. Thetwo men, even, stood petrified at the sight of such a deed, while Thraxgently laid the slender body on the ground. Tears streamed down hisrugged cheeks. Even in death the poor child smiled--shivered.--All wasover.
"Good-night," muttered the miserable father. "No executioner will everharm you now. Come on, accursed crew, and lay me by the side of mysweet Glauce."
He rushed headlong on one of the men, who avoided the stroke, and triedto seize his assailant round the body. But in vain; a mightier blowfell upon his helmet, and stunned him. He staggered backwards.
"Old fool!" cried the other soldier. "Fling away that dagger, or byHercules...."
"Thrax, miserable man! For Christ's sake!" A score of voices appealedto him at once. But Thrax had raised the blade again, and charged thefoe like a lion.
"Well, he will have it!" said the soldiers, now falling upon him fromall sides.
The next instant Thrax Barbatus fell, pierced by three swords at once,on the ground by Glauce's side. Not a groan of pain parted his setlips, not a throe, not a sign, betrayed the pain of such a death; onlyhis hand feebl
y felt for Glauce's.
Quintus gazed down at the dead.
"Would I might have died so!" he said to himself. "Almighty God, Thywill be done."
"Now, men--are you ready?" cried the centurion, sheathing his weapon.
"As you say."
"Very well, then; away to the city! Give over crying, you women. Acrime was never yet atoned for by howling and wailing. Onwards--march!"
And the long and melancholy procession set out. None remained behindbut the dead--the free and happy dead.
FOOTNOTES:
[67] SARDINIAN MINES. Sardinia played a similar part in the Roman Empire, to the one performed by Siberia in the kingdom of the Czar. Criminals, and often innocent persons, languished through a miserable existence in the mines there. Besides, the climate of the island was considered extremely unhealthy. (See Strab. V, 13. Mart. _Ep._, IV, 60.) In cases of less importance the culprits were simply exiled to Sardinia, without being condemned to enforced labor, and permitted to live there at liberty. (See Mart. _Ep._, VIII, 32.)
[68] TIGELLINUS. Sophonius Tigellinus, of Agrigentum, in Sicily, by his talents as a sportsman and horse-breaker, won Nero's favor, and finally became commander of the praetorian guard. (Tac. _Ann._, XIV, 51.) Dissolute, revengeful, and unprincipled, he was regarded, with reason, as the evil principle in the life of the Emperor, whose last noble impulses he strove to stifle. He was most to blame for the majority of Nero's crimes; even the horrible conflagration, that laid half Rome in ashes. (See Tac. _Hist._, I, 72, Dio Cass. LXII, 13, LXIII, 12.)