The Scarlet Banner Part 12

"No. In the last foray the animal was captured with some camels and several other horses."

"But not by you?" roared Thrasaric. "You were at home as usual, in Astarte's broad shadow."

"But I sent thirty mercenaries in my place; they captured the animal, tied in the Moorish camp; and what the mercenary captures--"

"Is his employer's property," said Thrasabad, who had entered the box again.

"So--this wonder--belongs to--you?" exclaimed Thrasaric, wild with envy.

"Yes, and to you as soon as you wish."

Thrasaric emptied a huge goblet of wine.

"No, no," he said; "at least not so--not by my will. She is a free woman, no slave, whom I could give away, even if I should ever desire it."

"Only resign your right to her. It will be easy--for money--to find a reason for annulling the marriage."

"She is a Catholic, he an Arian," whispered Astarte.

"Of course! That will do! And then merely let me--Gelimer cannot always strike down her abductor."

"No! Silence! Not so! But--we might throw dice! Then the dice, chance, would have decided--not I! Oh, I can, I can--think no longer! If I throw higher, each shall keep what he has; if I throw lower, I will--no, no! I will not! Let me sleep!" And overcome by the wine, in spite of the uproar around him, he dropped his huge rose-garlanded head on both arms, which lay folded on the marble front of the box.

Modigisel and Astarte exchanged significant glances.

"What do you expect to gain by it?" asked Modigisel. "He won't exchange for you; only for the horse."

"But she--that nun-faced girl--shall not have him! And my time will come later!"

"If I release you from my patronage."

"You will."

"I don't know yet."

"Oh, yes, you will," she answered coaxingly.

But even as she spoke, she again threw back her head and closed her eyes.

After a brief slumber the bridegroom was shaken rudely by his brother.

"Up!" cried the latter; "Eugenia has come back. Let her take her place--"

"Eugenia! I did not throw dice for her. I don't want the horse. I made no promise."

He started in terror; for Eugenia was standing before him with the Ionian; her large dark-brown eyes, whose whites had a bluish cast, were gazing searchingly, anxiously, distrustfully, into the very depths of his soul. But she said nothing; only her face was paler than usual. How much had she heard--understood? he asked himself.

Thrasabad's slave humbly made way for her.

"I thank you. Aphrodite."

"Oh, do not call me by that name of mockery and disgrace! Call me as my dear parents did at home before I was stolen,--became booty, a chattel."

"I thank you, Glauke."

"The races cannot take place," lamented Thrasabad, to whom a freedman had just brought a message.

"Why not?"

"Because no one will bet against the stallion which Modigisel entered last of all. It is Styx; you know him."

"Yes, I know him! I made no promise, did I, Modigisel?" he asked in a low, hurried tone.

"Yes, certainly! To throw the dice. Recollect yourself!"

"Impossible!"

"You said: 'If I throw higher, each shall keep what he has; if I throw lower--'"

"Oh, G.o.d! Yes! It's nothing, little one! Don't heed me."

He turned again to Modigisel, whispering, "Give me back my promise!"

"Never!"

"You can break it," sneered Astarte.

"Serpent!" he cried, raising his clinched fist, but he controlled himself; then, helpless as a bear entangled in a net, the giant turned beseechingly to Modigisel: "Spare me!"

But the latter shook his head.

"I will withdraw the stallion from the races," he said aloud to Thrasabad. "I am satisfied with the fact that no one dares to run against him."

"Then the race can take place, but at the end of the entertainment.

First, there are two surprises which I have prepared for you in another place. Come, Glauke, your hand; up, rise! Follow me, all you guests of Thrasaric, follow me to the Amphitheatre."

CHAPTER XV

Heralds, with blasts of the tuba, announced the invitation throughout the whole s.p.a.cious building, and, thanks to the admirable arrangements and the great number of exits, the arena was very quickly emptied. The thousands of spectators, amid the music of flute-players, now moved in a stately procession to the neighboring Amphitheatre.

This was an oval building, the axis of its inner ellipse measuring two hundred and forty feet. The plan resembled that of the Circus, an outer wall in two stories of arches, each story adorned with statues and pillars. Here, too, from the oval arena, the rows of seats ascended in steps divided by vertical walls, separated into triangles by the stairs leading to the exits, or vomitories.

The host and his most distinguished guests were a.s.signed places in the raised gallery on the podium directly adjoining the arena, formerly occupied by the Senators of Carthage.