A Struggle For Rome Volume I Part 45

On past the dark taxus-trees and the thick olive-groves; past the tall statue of Flora, whose white marble shone ghostly in the moonlight; past the large basin, where six marble dolphins spouted water high into the air; into the thick shrubbery of laurels and tamarinds, and, pressing through the oleanders, he stood before the stalact.i.te grotto, in which a marble nymph of the spring leaned upon a large dark urn. As he entered, a white figure glided from behind the statue.

"Valeria, my lovely rose!" cried Totila, ardently embracing her.

"Leave me, leave me, my beloved!" she said, withdrawing from his arms.

"No, sweet one! I will not leave you. How long, how painfully, I have missed you! Do you hear how sweetly and invitingly the nightingale calls? Inhale the warm air of the summer night and the intoxicating scent of the roses. All breathes joy and love! Oh, let us hold fast these golden hours! My soul cannot contain all its bliss! All thy beauty; all our youth; and this glowing, blooming summer night. Life rolls in mighty waves through my heart, and bursts it with delight!"

"Oh, Totila, I would gladly lose myself, like you, in the happiness of these hours! But I cannot. The intoxicating perfume, the luxurious warmth of these summer nights are but transient; they breed misfortune.

I cannot believe in the happiness of our love!"

"Thou dear fool, why not?"

"I know not. The unhappy doubt which troubles all my life spreads its curse even over our love. How gladly would I love and trust like you!

But a warning voice in my heart ever repeats: 'It will not last--thou shalt not be happy!'"

"Then, even in my arms, you are not happy?"

"Yes, and no! The feeling of concealment from my n.o.ble father oppresses me. See, Totila, what makes me love you most is not your youthful beauty and strength, nor even your great love for me. It is my pride in your character, in your frank, unclouded and n.o.ble character. I have accustomed myself to see you walk through this dark world bright and strong as the G.o.d of Light. The n.o.ble courage, sure of victory; the enthusiasm and truth of your being, are my pride. That when you approach, all that is mean, little, and unholy must vanish from before you, is my delight. I love you as a mortal loves the Sun-G.o.d who approaches him in the fulness of his glory, and therefore I can endure nothing secret about you. Not even the delight of these hours--it is enjoyed by stealth, and that must no longer be----"

"No, Valeria, and shall not! I feel exactly the same. I hate the lie of this disguise; I can bear it no longer! To-morrow I will throw it off and speak openly and freely to your father."

"This decision is the best, for----"

"For it saves your life, young man!" suddenly cried a deep voice, and from the dark background of the grotto a man came forth, in the act of sheathing his sword.

"My father!" cried Valeria, startled, but with courageous composure.

Totila put one arm round her.

"Away, Valeria! leave the barbarian!" cried Valerius, stretching out his hand commandingly.

"No, Valerius," cried Totila, pressing Valeria close to his breast; "henceforward her place is on my bosom!"

"Audacious Goth!"

"Hear me, Valerius, and be not angry with us for this deceit. You yourself heard that it was to end tomorrow."

"Fortunately for you, I did. Warned by an old friend, I could still scarcely believe that my daughter--would deceive me. When I was compelled to believe my eyes, I was resolved that your life should pay for her fault. Your words saved you. But now go; you will never again see her face."

Totila would have retorted angrily, but Valeria was beforehand.

"Father," she said quietly, stepping between the two men, "listen to your child. I will not excuse my love, it needs no apology. It is as innocent and heavenly as are the stars. My love is the life of my life.

You know me; truth is the air I breathe. By my soul! I will never leave this man!"

"Nor I her!" cried Totila, and took her right-hand.

The young couple stood erect before the old man in the bright moonlight, their n.o.ble features filled with sacred enthusiasm. They looked so beautiful that a softened feeling took possession of the angry father.

"Valeria, my child!"

"Oh, my father! you have led all my childish steps with such untiring love that till now I have scarcely missed, though I have deeply regretted, my lost mother. At this moment I miss her for the first time; for now I feel that I need her advocacy. At least let her memory plead for me. Let me bring her picture before you, and remind you of the time when, dying, she called you for the last time to her bedside, and, as you have often told me, confided to you my happiness as a holy legacy."

Valerius pressed his right hand to his forehead; his daughter ventured to take the other; he did not repulse her. Evidently a struggle was going on in his mind. At last he spoke.

"Valeria, without knowing it, you have pleaded strongly. It would be unjust to withhold from you a fact upon which you have mysteriously touched. Your mother's vow, which, however, we had long since annulled, still oppressed her soul. 'If our child,' she said, 'is not to be the bride of Heaven, at least swear to me to honour the freedom of her choice. I know how Roman girls, particularly in our rank of life, are given in marriage unasked, without love. Such an union is misery on earth and a sin before G.o.d. My Valeria will choose n.o.bly; swear to me to give her to the husband of her choice, and to no other!'--and I Swore it. But to give my child to a barbarian, to an enemy of Italy!

no, no!" And he broke from her grasp.

"Perhaps I am not so barbarous, Valerius, as you think," began Totila.

"At least I am the warmest friend of the Romans in all my nation.

Believe me, I do not hate you; those whom I abhor are your worst enemies as well as ours--the Byzantines!"

It was a happy speech, for in the heart of the old republican the hatred of Byzantium was the reverse side to his love of freedom and Italy. He was silent, but his eyes rested thoughtfully upon the youth.

"My father," said Valeria, "your child could love no barbarian. Learn to know Totila; and if you still call him a barbarian--I will never become his. I ask nothing of you but this: learn to know him. Decide for yourself whether my choice be n.o.ble. He is beloved by all the Goths, and all men are friendly to him--surely you alone will not reject him?"

Again she took her father's hand.

"Oh, learn to know me, Valerius!" begged Totila earnestly, taking his other hand.

The old man sighed. At length he said: "Come with me to your mother's grave, Valeria; there it is amongst the cypresses; there stands the urn containing her heart. Let us think of her--the n.o.blest woman who ever lived--and appeal to her shade. And if your love prove to be true and well placed, then I will perform what I have promised."

CHAPTER XXIII.

A few weeks later, we find Cethegus in the well-known room containing the statue of Caesar, together with our new acquaintance, Petros, the amba.s.sador of the Emperor Justinian, or rather of the Empress.

The two men had shared a simple meal and had emptied a flask of old Ma.s.sikian together, exchanging reminiscences of past times--they had been fellow-students, as we already know--and had just left the dinner-room for the study of Cethegus, in order, undisturbed by the attendants, to talk over more confidential affairs.

"As soon as I had convinced myself," said Cethegus, concluding his account of late events, "that the alarming reports from Ravenna were only rumours--perhaps inventions, and, at all events, exaggerated--I opposed the utmost coolness to the excitement and zeal of my friends.

Lucius Lucinius, with his fiery temper and foolish enthusiasm, almost spoilt everything. He repeatedly demanded that I should accept the office of Dictator, and literally put his sword to my breast, shouting that I should be compelled to serve the fatherland. He let out so many secrets, that it was fortunate the dark Corsican--who seems to stick to the Goths, no one knows why--took him to be more drunk than he really was. At last news came that Amalaswintha had returned, and so people and Senate gradually became more calm."

"And you," said Petros, "have saved Rome for the second time from the revenge of the barbarians--a service which can never be forgotten, and for which all the world, but most of all the Queen, must thank you."

"The Queen--poor woman!" answered Cethegus, shrugging his shoulders.

"Who knows how long the Goths, or your imperial master at Byzantium, will leave her upon her throne?"

"What! You mistake entirely!" interrupted Petros eagerly. "My emba.s.sy was intended, above all other things, to support her government; and I was just upon the point of asking your advice," he added cunningly, "as to how this can best be done."

But the Prefect leaned back his head against the marble wall, and looked with a smile at the amba.s.sador.

"Oh, Petros! oh, Peter!" he said. "Why so secret? I thought we knew each other better."

"What do you mean?" asked the Byzantine, embarra.s.sed.

"I mean that we have not studied law and history together at Berytus and Athens in vain. I mean that at that time we already, while working together and exchanging our wise thoughts, came to the conclusion that the Emperor must drive out these barbarians, and rule again in Rome as he does in Byzantium. And as I think now just as I did then, you also will surely not have become a different man."

"I must subject my views to those of my master; and Justinian----"