Neæra. A Tale of Ancient Rome. Graham John William

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СКАЧАТЬ that point, Cestus. Listen! You will have to improve your outward appearance, in order to represent an honest mechanic in his holiday clothes – that is, as nearly as possible. That done, you will have to go as far as the Janiculum and ask an audience of a certain patrician who dwells there. He had once a granddaughter who was lost when a child.’

      ‘Ah, now I smell a rat! You are going to outdo yourself,’ cried Cestus eagerly.

      ‘You understand, I perceive. You are merely to go to this gentleman with a story, told in your best language and style, that you are a messenger from a repentant man on his deathbed, who confesses that he formerly stole the child. The dying man is most anxious for an interview with the gentleman he has wronged, for the purpose of imploring his pardon and revealing the whereabouts and position of the girl, who, he says, is yet living. When you have succeeded in arousing the gentleman’s interest and eagerness, as you doubtless will, he will almost surely send you to me. I shall not be in Rome, and shall be careful to let him know beforehand. He will, therefore, recollect himself, and, as we may hope, decide to accompany you to this dying man. All this must be timed to fall tolerably late at night, which will also give the affair all the more appearance of genuineness. On the way to that dying man my worthy uncle must be left by the roadside, for ever oblivious of missing child and present grief.’

      ‘By Pluto!’ cried the Suburan, smiting his thigh in delight and admiration, ‘the very thing I advised you only yesterday. I marvel you have not done this before; but then your worship is so merciful. However, better late than never, and it was bound to come at some time. Bacchus, what a cunning plan! Fate cut you out for a great man, and a thousand Fabricii could not stay you.’

      ‘No names – walls have ears!’ said the knight sternly.

      ‘True,’ replied Cestus. ‘It was my delight which let it slip. Euge, Cestus! Five hundred sestertia for simply helping an old man on the road to the Elysian fields – why, patron, the pay is so princely, and the task so light, that I feel somewhat ashamed of accepting the terms.’

      ‘You are perfectly at liberty to return whatever your conscience considers to be superfluous,’ remarked Afer.

      ‘Well, we will see how matters turn out,’ answered Cestus, with a grin. ‘No doubt when the sad news is brought to your wondering ears, you will be in a dreadful state of mind, and will lay the bloodhounds on the track of the villains all over the city?’

      ‘It may, very probably, be necessary to act in some such way,’ responded the knight, with a shadowy smile. ‘Let me see,’ he murmured, as he passed his hand over his brow, and remained in deep thought for a few moments; ‘come to-night, and we will arrange everything.’

      ‘To-night!’

      ‘And, Cestus, be secret; and beware of the wine-pot.’

      ‘Never fear; it is only when Cestus is idle that he amuses himself in that way. Give him work, and work to some purpose, like this, and his head remains clear as water – and when your honour lays the plan there is no more to be added.’

      ‘Engage your comrades to-day. To-morrow I shall go to Tibur – the day after to-morrow meet me at the Sublician Bridge at nightfall.’

      ‘But I shall see you to-night, as you said?’

      ‘Yes; and on the evening of the day after to-morrow I will be at the Sublician Bridge. It will involve much riding, but I can be nigh you and yet return to Tivoli before morning breaks.’

      Cestus held up his hands in affected admiration.

      ‘You are inspired, patron! But hold; how if the old man will not come forth with me? What then comes of all this fine scheme?’

      ‘Nothing,’ replied Afer calmly. ‘We shall have to wait and devise again.’

      ‘I care not for this complicated notion. I prefer to have not so many cooks to the broth. There is nothing so sure, and so easy, as a little dust of a certain kind in his wine or meat.’

      The knight shook his head.

      ‘It is too effective, my Cestus, and too common. It would not fail to be talked about. No; our rough footpads leave the least suspicion.’

      ‘Well, you are perhaps right; for when the watchmen find the old man in the gutter next morning, it will be said that he met his end at the hands of thieves, who gave him a knock a little too heavy – not the first since this good city was built.’

      Afer nodded and said,

      ‘Come to-night, as I bade you.’

      ‘I will. Am I not to have the honour of following you toward the city?’

      ‘No,’ replied the knight, turning away; ‘I go to the camp. Be discreet – this will make us or mar us.’

      Cestus bowed and loitered away leisurely in the direction of the Esquiline Gate, whilst Afer walked quickly toward the Viminal Plain, on the border of which lay the ramparts of the Pretorian camp.

      CHAPTER VI

      Whilst this conversation, which we have related, was passing between Afer and his client, a small coasting vessel was ascending the river Tiber, making slow headway against the current. In the little poop-house, along with the captain of the craft, was standing Masthlion, an interested observer of all that passed within view, as they wound up the famous stream.

      To go back a little. We left the potter retiring to rest full of a determination to proceed to Rome. He arose next morning with a mind unchanged, and soon after dawn took his way to the cliffs. As he was about to set his foot to descend the steps which led down to the Marina, the head of an ascending individual showed up above the level. He was a short, thick-set man, with a mahogany complexion, shaggy beard and moustache. Each made an exclamation and then shook hands.

      ‘I was coming with no other reason than to seek tidings of you, Silo.’

      ‘Good! – here I am myself, Masthlion.’

      ‘I thought it about your time. Are you for the Tiber?’

      ‘Direct.’

      ‘When?’

      ‘At noon, or before. I don’t want to lose this wind,’ said the sailor, casting his eye to the eastward.

      ‘I have business in Rome – give me a passage.’

      ‘In Rome! You? What has bitten you? Come, and welcome.’

      ‘I will come about noon then.’

      ‘An hour before, Masthlion; and if I want thee before that I will send.’

      The potter went home, and after gathering a few articles of clothing and food together in a wallet, he quietly resumed work until the time came for departure. During this period Neæra glided into the workshop. A new and radiant expression beamed on her face and sparkled in her beautiful gray eyes. The delicate colour of her cheek was deeper. An unconscious smile seemed to play on her lips, as though responding to the springs of joy and hope within. The loosely-girded tunic of coarse, poor fabric could not hide the graceful curves of her lithe figure, which promised a splendid maturity. Her household work had caused her to tuck up her sleeves, and her revealed arms and wrists gleamed white and round. Her loveliness seemed to the potter literally to bloom afresh as he glanced at her.

      ‘Father,’ СКАЧАТЬ