A Captive of the Roman Eagles Part 28

"Ha!--she--she can't be reached!" answered the first speaker. "That red-haired witch is under the protection of the fiends of h.e.l.l."

"How so?"

"Why, one night lately--a deadly terror has seized me ever since when I see the brown beast--the monster's hot, loathsome breath was steaming from her open jaws into my face! She was within a hair's breadth of clutching and squeezing me to death! This very evening--just now--at supper--"

"Hark, what was that," asked the other startled, "up above in the pine-tree? Didn't you hear anything?"

"Pshaw! The night-breeze in the branches!"

"No, no! It was--"

"Well, it was that bird! There it flies!"

The startled blackbird, loudly uttering its cry of fear and warning, flew upward; the listener, in her horror, had pressed her hand upon her throbbing heart and, by the slight movement, frightened the bird perched so near her.

"Well then, by Tartarus, I will risk it! He complained again to-day, before many witnesses, of fever and all sorts of pains. Have you hemlock enough? Shall I give you my vial? I brought it with me. Here, I always carry it in my breast."

"Enough for six uncles!"

"But the stuff must have a suspicious taste: sharp, bitter. Suppose he should notice it too soon?"

"That's why I mixed the other half with honey. But take good care of your store. Perhaps Prosper, in case he has any suspicion, must also--"

"Or the Barbarian girl, if the will has already--"

"Let us go," the other interrupted.

"Put it in the Emperor's goblet! He drinks from no other.--Quick: I go to the left."

"And I go to the right."

The voices died away, and the footsteps echoed from two directions.

Horrified, almost paralyzed with terror, Bissula slipped down from the tree. On reaching the ground she staggered, clinging to the trunk for support, and for a moment wondered whether she had not fallen asleep and dreamed. She could not realize, could not believe that such a deed was possible. His own nephew--that kind-hearted man!

And yet it was true. Haste was necessary. The hour for the meal had already come, and Ausonius always began by drinking from the Emperor's goblet, with the three beautiful female figures, to the health of the Emperor Gratia.n.u.s.

Those two men had the start, too, and it was a considerable distance from this extreme northwestern corner of the camp to the Praetorium in the south. Turning, she ran as swiftly as she could, but had only reached the corner of the nearest street of tents when she shrieked aloud in terror. An iron hand grasped her arm.

"Help!" she screamed despairingly. "Help! Help for Ausonius!"

"Why are you shrieking like a dying leveret, little one?" replied a deep voice. "Where are you going so fast?"

"Let me go, whoever you may be! The Prefect's life is in danger! Who are you?"

"I am Rignomer. I followed you unnoticed till you climbed the tree. You wouldn't have seen me now, if you hadn't dashed away as though you were driven by the elves. Where are you going?"

"To the Prefect! They want to murder him!"

"Oh, nonsense, what are you talking about? Who?"

"Don't ask! Come with me! Hurry! Alas, perhaps even now it is too late."

The Batavian yielded to this unmistakable despair. Without removing his hand from her arm, he ran beside her.

"Where is the Tribune?" asked Bissula.

"With the Prefect: some news has come from Arbor."

"The G.o.ds be thanked. He is the only one who can help!"

On they ran through the streets of the camp, now perfectly dark except where fires were glimmering at the corners. Suddenly Bissula fell. The German dragged her up.

"A tent rope! You must keep more in the middle. But you are limping!

Did you hurt yourself?"

"A little. Keep on."

But she reeled; her feet refused to carry her.

"Now it's lucky that I caught you," said the soldier, swinging her on his arm like a child. And Bissula, who usually so fiercely resisted every touch, willingly permitted it.

"Throw your arms around my neck, little one! There. Now hold fast! It won't be long" ("unfortunately" he thought, but took good care not to say it), "we shall reach there directly." And he pressed on swiftly and st.u.r.dily with his light, beautiful burden.

CHAPTER XLII.

A slender bluish flame, burning in a marble vessel supported by a bronze pedestal of exquisite Corinthian workmans.h.i.+p, diffused both light and perfume through the Prefect's sumptuously furnished and richly decorated tent. Ausonius was lying on the low couch: before him stood the Tribune. Prosper, the old freedman, was pus.h.i.+ng forward the citrus wood dining-table, which ran on rollers.

Hercula.n.u.s entered, greeted all present pleasantly and took his place on the second couch, opposite to Ausonius. "Where is Davus?" he asked the freedman impatiently. "I am thirsty!"

"He ought to have been here long ago," replied Prosper. "He often wanders about needlessly, n.o.body knows where. You must have him put in the block again, patronus."

"What," cried Ausonius laughing, "have you actually dragged the block here, you rigid slave-overseer, all the way from Vindonissa?"

"Three fine ones, patronus. If you take bad slaves with you, I must take good blocks."

Saturninus was about to go: "The business of the service is over for to-day, Prefect. Perhaps Nannienus may arrive with the galleys to-morrow. He sent a swift galley across the lake to-day: he will arrive very soon. Then, at last, we can begin our work without delay.

But," he added in a kindly tone, advancing a step nearer to the lectus, "Will you permit me to utter a word of warning. Prefect Praetor of Gaul?

Yesterday, and to-day still more, you complained of illness; chills followed by short attacks of fever: will you not remain here in the camp to-morrow (Bissula shall nurse you), instead of marching with us into the swampy forests? I fear you already have the marsh fever."

Just at that moment Davus entered, bringing the beautiful mixing-vessel, filled, and several empty goblets.

"Davus, you lazy hound!" shouted Hercula.n.u.s. "Quick! I am thirsty!

Wine!"

But Saturninus, bending anxiously over the reclining figure, went on: "Acid old Caecubian is said to be a good remedy for this fever. May I send you some from my store, Prefect?"