this ebook was one of project gutenberg's early files produced at a time when proofing methods and tools were not well developed. there is an improved edition of this title which may be viewed as ebook (#1538) at https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1538 ******************************************************************* ******************************************************************* this ebook was one of project gutenberg's early files produced at a time when proofing methods and tools were not well developed. there is an improved edition of this title which may be viewed as ebook (#1538) at https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1538 ******************************************************************* ******************************************************************* this ebook was one of project gutenberg's early files produced at a time when proofing methods and tools were not well developed. there is an improved edition of this title which may be viewed as ebook (#1532) at https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1532 ******************************************************************* the last tournament by alfred tennyson, d.c.l., poet-laureate author's edition from advance sheets this poem forms one of the "idyls of the king." its place is between "pelleas" and "guinevere." by alfred tennyson, poet laureate dagonet, the fool, whom gawain in his moods had made mock-knight of arthur's table round, at camelot, high above the yellowing woods, danced like a wither'd leaf before the hall. and toward him from the hall, with harp in hand, and from the crown thereof a carcanet of ruby swaying to and fro, the prize of tristram in the jousts of yesterday, came tristram, saying, "why skip ye so, sir fool?" for arthur and sir lancelot riding once far down beneath a winding wall of rock heard a child wail. a stump of oak half-dead, from roots like some black coil of carven snakes clutch'd at the crag, and started thro' mid-air bearing an eagle's nest: and thro' the tree rush'd ever a rainy wind, and thro' the wind pierced ever a child's cry: and crag and tree scaling, sir lancelot from the perilous nest, this ruby necklace thrice around her neck, and all unscarr'd from beak or talon, brought a maiden babe; which arthur pitying took, then gave it to his queen to rear: the queen but coldly acquiescing, in her white arms received, and after loved it tenderly, and named it nestling; so forgot herself a moment, and her cares; till that young life being smitten in mid-heaven with mortal cold past from her; and in time the carcanet vext her with plaintive memories of the child: so she, delivering it to arthur, said, "take thou the jewels of this dead innocence, and make them, an thou wilt, a tourney-prize." to whom the king, "peace to thine eagle-borne dead nestling, and this honor after death, following thy will! but, o my queen, i muse why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone, those diamonds that i rescued from the tarn, and lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear." "would rather ye had let them fall," she cried, "plunge and be lost--ill-fated as they were, a bitterness to me!--ye look amazed, not knowing they were lost as soon as given- slid from my hands, when i was leaning out above the river--that unhappy child past in her barge: but rosier luck will go with these rich jewels, seeing that they came not from the skeleton of a brother-slayer, but the sweet body of a maiden babe. perchance--who knows?--the purest of thy knights may win them for the purest of my maids." she ended, and the cry of a great jousts with trumpet-blowings ran on all the ways from camelot in among the faded fields to furthest towers; and everywhere the knights arm'd for a day of glory before the king. but on the hither side of that loud morn into the hall stagger'd, his visage ribb'd from ear to ear with dogwhip-weals, his nose bridge-broken, one eye out, and one hand off, and one with shatter'd fingers dangling lame, a churl, to whom indignantly the king, "my churl, for whom christ died, what evil beast hath drawn his claws athwart thy face? or fiend? man was it who marr'd heaven's image in thee thus?" then, sputtering thro' the hedge of splinter'd teeth, yet strangers to the tongue, and with blunt stump pitch-blacken'd sawing the air, said the maim'd churl, "he took them and he drave them to his tower- some hold he was a table-knight of thine- a hundred goodly ones--the red knight, he- "lord, i was tending swine, and the red knight brake in upon me and drave them to his tower; and when i call'd upon thy name as one that doest right by gentle and by churl, maim'd me and maul'd, and would outright have slain, save that he sware me to a message, saying- 'tell thou the king and all his liars, that i have founded my round table in the north, and whatsoever his own knights have sworn my knights have sworn the counter to it--and say my tower is full of harlots, like his court, but mine are worthier, seeing they profess to be none other than themselves--and say my knights are all adulterers like his own, but mine are truer, seeing they profess to be none other; and say his hour is come, the heathen are upon him, his long lance broken, and his excalibur a straw.'" then arthur turn'd to kay the seneschal, "take thou my churl, and tend him curiously like a king's heir, till all his hurts be whole. the heathen--but that ever-climbing wave, hurl'd back again so often in empty foam, hath lain for years at rest--and renegades, thieves, bandits, leavings of confusion, whom the wholesome realm is purged of otherwhere,- friends, thro' your manhood and your fealty,--now make their last head like satan in the north. my younger knights, new-made, in whom your flower waits to be solid fruit of golden deeds, move with me toward their quelling, which achieved, the loneliest ways are safe from shore to shore. but thou, sir lancelot, sitting in my place enchair'd to-morrow, arbitrate the field; for wherefore shouldst thou care to mingle with it, only to yield my queen her own again? speak, lancelot, thou art silent: is it well?" * * * * * thereto sir lancelot answer'd, "it is well: yet better if the king abide, and leave the leading of his younger knights to me. else, for the king has will'd it, it is well." * * * * * then arthur rose and lancelot follow'd him, and while they stood without the doors, the king turn'd to him saying, "is it then so well? or mine the blame that oft i seem as he of whom was written, 'a sound is in his ears'- the foot that loiters, bidden go,--the glance that only seems half-loyal to command,- a manner somewhat fall'n from reverence- or have i dream'd the bearing of our knights tells of a manhood ever less and lower? or whence the fear lest this my realm, uprear'd, by noble deeds at one with noble vows, from flat confusion and brute violences, reel back into the beast, and be no more?" * * * * * he spoke, and taking all his younger knights, down the slope city rode, and sharply turn'd north by the gate. in her high bower the queen, working a tapestry, lifted up her head, watch'd her lord pass, and knew not that she sigh'd. then ran across her memory the strange rhyme of bygone merlin, "where is he who knows? from the great deep to the great deep he goes." * * * * * but when the morning of a tournament, by these in earnest those in mockery call'd the tournament of the dead innocence, brake with a wet wind blowing, lancelot, round whose sick head all night, like birds of prey, the words of arthur flying shriek'd, arose, and down a streetway hung with folds of pure white samite, and by fountains running wine, where children sat in white with cups of gold, moved to the lists, and there, with slow sad steps ascending, fill'd his double-dragon'd chair. * * * * * he glanced and saw the stately galleries, dame, damsel, each thro' worship of their queen white-robed in honor of the stainless child, and some with scatter'd jewels, like a bank of maiden snow mingled with sparks of fire. he lookt but once, and veil'd his eyes again. * * * * * the sudden trumpet sounded as in a dream to ears but half-awaked, then one low roll of autumn thunder, and the jousts began: and ever the wind blew, and yellowing leaf and gloom and gleam, and shower and shorn plume went down it. sighing weariedly, as one who sits and gazes on a faded fire, when all the goodlier guests are past away, sat their great umpire, looking o'er the lists. he saw the laws that ruled the tournament broken, but spake not; once, a knight cast down before his throne of arbitration cursed the dead babe and the follies of the king; and once the laces of a helmet crack'd, and show'd him, like a vermin in its hole, modred, a narrow face: anon he heard the voice that billow'd round the barriers roar an ocean-sounding welcome to one knight, but newly-enter'd, taller than the rest, and armor'd all in forest green, whereon there tript a hundred tiny silver deer, and wearing but a holly-spray for crest, with ever-scattering berries, and on shield a spear, a harp, a bugle--tristram--late from overseas in brittany return'd, and marriage with a princess of that realm, isolt the white--sir tristram of the woods- whom lancelot knew, had held sometime with pain his own against him, and now yearn'd to shake the burthen off his heart in one full shock with tristram ev'n to death: his strong hands gript and dinted the gilt dragons right and left, until he groan'd for wrath--so many of those, that ware their ladies' colors on the casque, drew from before sir tristram to the bounds, and there with gibes and nickering mockeries stood, while he mutter'd, "craven chests! o shame! what faith have these in whom they sware to love? the glory of our round table is no more." * * * * * so tristram won, and lancelot gave, the gems, not speaking other word than "hast thou won? art thou the purest, brother? see, the hand wherewith thou takest this is red!" to whom tristram, half plagued by lancelot's languorous mood, made answer, "ay, but wherefore toss me this like a dry bone cast to some hungry hound? let be thy fair queen's fantasy. strength of heart and might of limb, but mainly use and skill, are winners in this pastime of our king. my hand--belike the lance hath dript upon it- no blood of mine, i trow; but o chief knight, right arm of arthur in the battlefield, great brother, thou nor i have made the world; be happy in thy fair queen as i in mine." and tristram round the gallery made his horse caracole; then bow'd his homage, bluntly saying, "fair damsels, each to him who worships each sole queen of beauty and of love, behold this day my queen of beauty is not here." then most of these were mute, some anger'd, one murmuring "all courtesy is dead," and one, "the glory of our round table is no more." then fell thick rain, plume droopt and mantle clung, and pettish cries awoke, and the wan day went glooming down in wet and weariness: but under her black brows a swarthy dame laught shrilly, crying "praise the patient saints, our one white day of innocence hath past, tho' somewhat draggled at the skirt. so be it. the snowdrop only, flow'ring thro' the year, would make the world as blank as wintertide. come--let us comfort their sad eyes, our queen's and lancelot's, at this night's solemnity with all the kindlier colors of the field." * * * * * so dame and damsel glitter'd at the feast variously gay: for he that tells the tale liken'd them, saying "as when an hour of cold falls on the mountain in midsummer snows, and all the purple slopes of mountain flowers pass under white, till the warm hour returns with veer of wind, and all are flowers again;" so dame and damsel cast the simple white, and glowing in all colors, the live grass, rose-campion, bluebell, kingcup, poppy, glanced about the revels, and with mirth so loud beyond all use, that, half-amazed, the queen, and wroth at tristram and the lawless jousts, brake up their sports, then slowly to her bower parted, and in her bosom pain was lord. * * * * * and little dagonet on the morrow morn, high over all the yellowing autumn-tide, danced like a wither'd leaf before the hall. then tristram saying, "why skip ye so, sir fool?" wheel'd round on either heel, dagonet replied, "belike for lack of wiser company; or being fool, and seeing too much wit makes the world rotten, why, belike i skip to know myself the wisest knight of all." "ay, fool," said tristram, "but 'tis eating dry to dance without a catch, a roundelay to dance to." then he twangled on his harp, and while he twangled little dagonet stood, quiet as any water-sodden log stay'd in the wandering warble of a brook; but when the twangling ended, skipt again; then being ask'd, "why skipt ye not, sir fool?" made answer, "i had liefer twenty years skip to the broken music of my brains than any broken music ye can make." then tristram, waiting for the quip to come, "good now, what music have i broken, fool?" and little dagonet, skipping, "arthur, the king's; for when thou playest that air with queen isolt, thou makest broken music with thy bride, her daintier namesake down in brittany- and so thou breakest arthur's music too." "save for that broken music in thy brains, sir fool," said tristram, "i would break thy head. fool, i came late, the heathen wars were o'er, the life had flown, we sware but by the shell- i am but a fool to reason with a fool come, thou art crabb'd and sour: but lean me down, sir dagonet, one of thy long asses' ears, and hearken if my music be not true. "'free love--free field--we love but while we may: the woods are hush'd, their music is no more: the leaf is dead, the yearning past away: new leaf, new life--the days of frost are o'er: new life, new love to suit the newer day: new loves are sweet as those that went before: free love,--free field--we love but while we may.' "ye might have moved slow-measure to my tune, not stood stockstill. i made it in the woods, and found it ring as true as tested gold." but dagonet with one foot poised in his hand, "friend, did ye mark that fountain yesterday made to run wine?--but this had run itself all out like a long life to a sour end- and them that round it sat with golden cups to hand the wine to whomsoever came- the twelve small damosels white as innocence, "in honor of poor innocence the babe, who left the gems which innocence the queen lent to the king, and innocence the king gave for a prize--and one of those white slips handed her cup and piped, the pretty one, 'drink, drink, sir fool,' and thereupon i drank, spat--pish--the cup was gold, the draught was mud." and tristram, "was it muddier than thy gibes? is all the laughter gone dead out of thee?- not marking how the knighthood mock thee, fool- 'fear god: honor the king--his one true knight- sole follower of the vows'--for here be they who knew thee swine enow before i came, smuttier than blasted grain: but when the king had made thee fool, thy vanity so shot up it frighted all free fool from out thy heart; which left thee less than fool, and less than swine, a naked aught--yet swine i hold thee still, for i have flung thee pearls, and find thee swine." and little dagonet mincing with his feet, "knight, an ye fling those rubies round my neck in lieu of hers, i'll hold thou hast some touch of music, since i care not for thy pearls. swine? i have wallow'd, i have wash'd--the world is flesh and shadow--i have had my day. the dirty nurse, experience, in her kind hath foul'd me--an i wallow'd, then i wash'd- i have had my day and my philosophies- and thank the lord i am king arthur's fool. swine, say ye? swine, goats, asses, rams and geese troop'd round a paynim harper once, who thrumm'd on such a wire as musically as thou some such fine song--but never a king's fool." and tristram, "then were swine, goats, asses, geese the wiser fools, seeing thy paynim bard had such a mastery of his mystery that he could harp his wife up out of hell." then dagonet, turning on the ball of his foot, "and whither harp'st thou thine? down! and thyself down! and two more: a helpful harper thou, that harpest downward! dost thou know the star we call the harp of arthur up in heaven?" and tristram, "ay, sir fool, for when our king was victor wellnigh day by day, the knights, glorying in each new glory, set his name high on all hills, and in the signs of heaven." and dagonet answer'd, "ay, and when the land was freed, and the queen false, ye set yourself to babble about him, all to show your wit- and whether he were king by courtesy, or king by right--and so went harping down the black king's highway, got so far, and grew so witty, that ye play'd at ducks and drakes with arthur's vows on the great lake of fire. tuwhoo! do ye see it? do ye see the star?" "nay, fool," said tristram, "not in open day." and dagonet, "nay, nor will: i see it and hear. it makes a silent music up in heaven, and i, and arthur and the angels hear, and then we skip." "lo, fool," he said, "ye talk fool's treason: is the king thy brother fool?" then little dagonet clapt his hands and shrill'd, "ay, ay, my brother fool, the king of fools*! conceits himself as god that he can make figs out of thistles, silk from bristles, milk from burning spurge, honey from hornet-combs, and men from beasts.--long live the king of fools!" and down the city dagonet danced away. but thro' the slowly-mellowing avenues and solitary passes of the wood rode tristram toward lyonesse and the west. before him fled the face of queen isolt with ruby-circled neck, but evermore past, as a rustle or twitter in the wood made dull his inner, keen his outer eye for all that walk'd, or crept, or perched, or flew. anon the face, as, when a gust hath blown, unruffling waters re-collect the shape of one that in them sees himself, return'd; but at the slot or fewmets of a deer, or ev'n a fall'n feather, vanish'd again. so on for all that day from lawn to lawn thro' many a league-long bower he rode. at length a lodge of intertwisted beechen-boughs furze-cramm'd, and bracken-rooft, the which himself built for a summer day with queen isolt against a shower, dark in the golden grove appearing, sent his fancy back to where she lived a moon in that low lodge with him: till mark her lord had past, the cornish king, with six or seven, when tristram was away, and snatch'd her thence; yet dreading worse than shame her warrior tristram, spake not any word, but bode his hour, devising wretchedness. and now that desert lodge to tristram lookt so sweet, that, halting, in he past, and sank down on a drift of foliage random-blown; but could not rest for musing how to smooth and sleek his marriage over to the queen. perchance in lone tintagil far from all the tonguesters of the court she had not heard. but then what folly had sent him overseas after she left him lonely here? a name? was it the name of one in brittany, isolt, the daughter of the king? "isolt of the white hands" they call'd her: the sweet name allured him first, and then the maid herself, who served him well with those white hands of hers, and loved him well, until himself had thought he loved her also, wedded easily, but left her all as easily, and return'd. the black-blue irish hair and irish eyes had drawn him home--what marvel? then he laid his brows upon the drifted leaf and dream'd. he seem'd to pace the strand of brittany between isolt of britain and his bride, and show'd them both the ruby-chain, and both began to struggle for it, till his queen graspt it so hard, that all her hand was red. then cried the breton, "look, her hand is red! these be no rubies, this is frozen blood, and melts within her hand--her hand is hot with ill desires, but this i gave thee, look, is all as cool and white as any flower." follow'd a rush of eagle's wings, and then a whimpering of the spirit of the child, because the twain had spoil'd her carcanet. he dream'd; but arthur with a hundred spears rode far, till o'er the illimitable reed, and many a glancing plash and sallowy isle, the wide-wing'd sunset of the misty marsh glared on a huge machicolated tower that stood with open doors, whereout was roll'd a roar of riot, as from men secure amid their marshes, ruffians at their ease among their harlot-brides, an evil song. "lo there," said one of arthur's youth, for there, high on a grim dead tree before the tower, a goodly brother of the table round swung by the neck: and on the boughs a shield showing a shower of blood in a field noir, and therebeside a horn, inflamed the knights at that dishonor done the gilded spur, till each would clash the shield, and blow the horn. but arthur waved them back: alone he rode. then at the dry harsh roar of the great horn, that sent the face of all the marsh aloft an ever upward-rushing storm and cloud of shriek and plume, the red knight heard, and all, even to tipmost lance and topmost helm, in blood-red armor sallying, howl'd to the king, "the teeth of hell flay bare and gnash thee flat!- lo! art thou not that eunuch-hearted king who fain had clipt free manhood from the world- the woman-worshipper? yea, god's curse, and i! slain was the brother of my paramour by a knight of thine, and i that heard her whine and snivel, being eunuch-hearted too, sware by the scorpion-worm that twists in hell, and stings itself to everlasting death, to hang whatever knight of thine i fought and tumbled. art thou king?--look to thy life!" he ended: arthur knew the voice; the face wellnigh was helmet-hidden, and the name went wandering somewhere darkling in his mind. and arthur deign'd not use of word or sword, but let the drunkard, as he stretch'd from horse to strike him, overbalancing his bulk, down from the causeway heavily to the swamp fall, as the crest of some slow-arching wave heard in dead night along that table-shore drops flat, and after the great waters break whitening for half a league, and thin themselves far over sands marbled with moon and cloud. from less and less to nothing; thus he fell head-heavy, while the knights, who watch'd him, roar'd and shouted and leapt down upon the fall'n; there trampled out his face from being known, and sank his head in mire, and slimed themselves: nor heard the king for their own cries, but sprang thro' open doors, and swording right and left men, women, on their sodden faces, hurl'd the tables over and the wines, and slew till all the rafters rang with woman-yells, and all the pavement stream'd with massacre: then, yell with yell echoing, they fired the tower, which half that autumn night, like the live north, red-pulsing up thro' alioth and alcor, made all above it, and a hundred meres about it, as the water moab saw come round by the east, and out beyond them flush'd the long low dune, and lazy-plunging sea. so all the ways were safe from shore to shore, but in the heart of arthur pain was lord. then out of tristram waking the red dream fled with a shout, and that low lodge return'd, mid-forest, and the wind among the boughs. he whistled his good warhorse left to graze among the forest greens, vaulted upon him, and rode beneath an ever-showering leaf, till one lone woman, weeping near a cross, stay'd him, "why weep ye?" "lord," she said, "my man hath left me or is dead;" whereon he thought- "what an she hate me now? i would not this. what an she love me still? i would not that. i know not what i would"--but said to her,- "yet weep not thou, lest, if thy mate return, he find thy favor changed and love thee not"- then pressing day by day thro' lyonesse last in a roky hollow, belling, heard the hounds of mark, and felt the goodly hounds yelp at his heart, but, turning, past and gain'd tintagil, half in sea, and high on land, a crown of towers. down in a casement sat, a low sea-sunset glorying round her hair and glossy-throated grace, isolt the queen. and when she heard the feet of tristram grind the spiring stone that scaled about her tower, flush'd, started, met him at the doors, and there belted his body with her white embrace, crying aloud, "not mark--not mark, my soul! the footstep flutter'd me at first: not he: catlike thro' his own castle steals my mark, but warrior-wise thou stridest through his halls who hates thee, as i him--ev'n to the death. my soul, i felt my hatred for my mark quicken within me, and knew that thou wert nigh." to whom sir tristram smiling, "i am here. let be thy mark, seeing he is not thine." and drawing somewhat backward she replied, "can he be wrong'd who is not ev'n his own, but save for dread of thee had beaten me, scratch'd, bitten, blinded, marr'd me somehow--mark? what rights are his that dare not strike for them? not lift a hand--not, tho' he found me thus! but hearken, have ye met him? hence he went to-day for three days' hunting--as he said- and so returns belike within an hour. mark's way, my soul!--but eat not thou with him, because he hates thee even more than fears; nor drink: and when thou passest any wood close visor, lest an arrow from the bush should leave me all alone with mark and hell. my god, the measure of my hate for mark is as the measure of my love for thee." so, pluck'd one way by hate and one by love, drain'd of her force, again she sat, and spake to tristram, as he knelt before her, saying, "o hunter, and o blower of the horn, harper, and thou hast been a rover too, for, ere i mated with my shambling king, ye twain had fallen out about the bride of one--his name is out of me--the prize, if prize she were--(what marvel--she could see)- thine, friend; and ever since my craven seeks to wreck thee villanously: but, o sir knight, what dame or damsel have ye kneeled to last?" and tristram, "last to my queen paramount, here now to my queen paramount of love, and loveliness, ay, lovelier than when first her light feet fell on our rough lyonesse, sailing from ireland." softly laugh'd isolt, "flatter me not, for hath not our great queen my dole of beauty trebled?" and he said, "her beauty is her beauty, and thine thine, and thine is more to me--soft, gracious, kind- save when thy mark is kindled on thy lips most gracious; but she, haughty, ev'n to him, lancelot; for i have seen him wan enow to make one doubt if ever the great queen have yielded him her love." to whom isolt, "ah then, false hunter and false harper, thou who brakest thro' the scruple of my bond, calling me thy white hind, and saying to me that guinevere had sinned against the highest, and i--misyoked with such a want of man- that i could hardly sin against the lowest." he answer'd, "o my soul, be comforted! if this be sweet, to sin in leading-strings, if here be comfort, and if ours be sin, crown'd warrant had we for the crowning sin that made us happy: but how ye greet me--fear and fault and doubt--no word of that fond tale- thy deep heart-yearnings, thy sweet memories of tristram in that year he was away." and, saddening on the sudden, spake isolt, "i had forgotten all in my strong joy to see thee--yearnings?--ay! for, hour by hour, here in the never-ended afternoon, o sweeter than all memories of thee, deeper than any yearnings after thee seem'd those far-rolling, westward-smiling seas, watched from this tower. isolt of britain dash'd before isolt of brittany on the strand, would that have chill'd her bride-kiss? wedded her? fought in her father's battles? wounded there? the king was all fulfill'd with gratefulness, and she, my namesake of the hands, that heal'd thy hurt and heart with unguent and caress- well--can i wish her any huger wrong than having known thee? her too hast thou left to pine and waste in those sweet memories? o were i not my mark's, by whom all men are noble, i should hate thee more than love." and tristram, fondling her light hands, replied, "grace, queen, for being loved: she loved me well. did i love her? the name at least i loved. isolt?--i fought his battles, for isolt! the night was dark; the true star set. isolt! the name was ruler of the dark----isolt? care not for her! patient, and prayerful, meek, pale-blooded, she will yield herself to god." and isolt answer'd, "yea, and why not i? mine is the larger need, who am not meek, pale-blooded, prayerful. let me tell thee now. here one black, mute midsummer night i sat lonely, but musing on thee, wondering where, murmuring a light song i had heard thee sing, and once or twice i spake thy name aloud. then flash'd a levin-brand; and near me stood, in fuming sulphur blue and green, a fiend- mark's way to steal behind one in the dark- for there was mark: 'he has wedded her,' he said, not said, but hiss'd it: then this crown of towers so shook to such a roar of all the sky, that here in utter dark i swoon'd away, and woke again in utter dark, and cried, 'i will flee hence and give myself to god'- and thou wert lying in thy new leman's arms." then tristram, ever dallying with her hand, "may god be with thee, sweet, when old and gray, and past desire!" a saying that anger'd her. "'may god be with thee, sweet, when thou art old, and sweet no more to me!' i need him now. for when had lancelot utter'd aught so gross ev'n to the swineherd's malkin in the mast? the greater man, the greater courtesy. but thou, thro' ever harrying thy wild beasts- save that to touch a harp, tilt with a lance becomes thee well--art grown wild beast thyself. how darest thou, if lover, push me even in fancy from thy side, and set me far in the gray distance, half a life away, her to be loved no more? unsay it, unswear! flatter me rather, seeing me so weak, broken with mark and hate and solitude, thy marriage and mine own, that i should suck lies like sweet wines: lie to me: i believe. will ye not lie? not swear, as there ye kneel, and solemnly as when ye sware to him, the man of men, our king--my god, the power was once in vows when men believed the king! they lied not then, who sware, and thro' their vows the king prevailing made his realm:--i say, swear to me thou wilt love me ev'n when old, gray-haired, and past desire, and in despair." then tristram, pacing moodily up and down, "vows! did ye keep the vow ye made to mark more than i mine? lied, say ye? nay, but learnt, the vow that binds too strictly snaps itself- my knighthood taught me this--ay, being snapt- we run more counter to the soul thereof than had we never sworn. i swear no more. i swore to the great king, and am forsworn. for once--ev'n to the height--i honor'd him. 'man, is he man at all?' methought, when first i rode from our rough lyonesse, and beheld that victor of the pagan throned in hall- his hair, a sun that ray'd from off a brow like hillsnow high in heaven, the steel-blue eyes, the golden beard that clothed his lips with light- moreover, that weird legend of his birth, with merlin's mystic babble about his end, amazed me; then, his foot was on a stool shaped as a dragon; he seem'd to me no man, but michael trampling satan; so i sware, being amazed: but this went by--the vows! o ay--the wholesome madness of an hour- they served their use, their time; for every knight believed himself a greater than himself, and every follower eyed him as a god; till he, being lifted up beyond himself, did mightier deeds than elsewise he had done, and so the realm was made; but then their vows- first mainly thro' that sullying of our queen- began to gall the knighthood, asking whence had arthur right to bind them to himself? dropt down from heaven? wash'd up from out the deep? they fail'd to trace him thro' the flesh and blood of our old kings: whence then? a doubtful lord to bind them by inviolable vows, which flesh and blood perforce would violate: for feel this arm of mine--the tide within red with free chase and heather-scented air, pulsing full man; can arthur make me pure as any maiden child? lock up my tongue from uttering freely what i freely hear? bind me to one? the great world laughs at it. and worldling of the world am i, and know the ptarmigan that whitens ere his hour wooes his own end; we are not angels here nor shall be: vows--i am woodman of the woods, and hear the garnet-headed yaffingale mock them: my soul, we love but while we may; and therefore is my love so large for thee, seeing it is not bounded save by love." here ending, he moved toward her, and she said, "good: an i turn'd away my love for thee to some one thrice as courteous as thyself- for courtesy wins woman all as well as valor may--but he that closes both is perfect, he is lancelot--taller indeed, rosier, and comelier, thou--but say i loved this knightliest of all knights, and cast thee back thine own small saw 'we love but while we may,' well then, what answer?" he that while she spake, mindful of what he brought to adorn her with, the jewels, had let one finger lightly touch the warm white apple of her throat, replied, "press this a little closer, sweet, until- come, i am hunger'd and half-anger'd--meat, wine, wine--and i will love thee to the death, and out beyond into the dream to come." so then, when both were brought to full accord, she rose, and set before him all he will'd; and after these had comforted the blood with meats and wines, and satiated their hearts- now talking of their woodland paradise, the deer, the dews, the fern, the founts, the lawns; now mocking at the much ungainliness, and craven shifts, and long crane legs of mark- then tristram laughing caught the harp, and sang: "ay, ay, o ay--the winds that bend the brier! a star in heaven, a star within the mere! ay, ay, o ay--a star was my desire, and one was far apart, and one was near: ay, ay, o ay--the winds that bow the grass! and one was water and one star was fire, and one will ever shine and one will pass. ay, ay, o ay--the winds that move the mere." then in the light's last glimmer tristram show'd and swung the ruby carcanet. she cried, "the collar of some order, which our king hath newly founded, all for thee, my soul, for thee, to yield thee grace beyond thy peers." "not so, my queen," he said, "but the red fruit grown on a magic oak-tree in mid-heaven, and won by tristram as a tourney-prize, and hither brought by tristram for his last love-offering and peace-offering unto thee." he rose, he turn'd, and flinging round her neck, claspt it; but while he bow'd himself to lay warm kisses in the hollow of her throat, out of the dark, just as the lips had touch'd, behind him rose a shadow and a shriek- "mark's way," said mark, and clove him thro' the brain. that night came arthur home, and while he climb'd, all in a death-dumb autumn-dripping gloom, the stairway to the hall, and look'd and saw the great queen's bower was dark,--about his feet a voice clung sobbing till he question'd it, "what art thou?" and the voice about his feet sent up an answer, sobbing, "i am thy fool, and i shall never make thee smile again." a connecticut yankee in king arthur's court by mark twain (samuel l. clemens) part 3. chapter xii slow torture straight off, we were in the country. it was most lovely and pleasant in those sylvan solitudes in the early cool morning in the first freshness of autumn. from hilltops we saw fair green valleys lying spread out below, with streams winding through them, and island groves of trees here and there, and huge lonely oaks scattered about and casting black blots of shade; and beyond the valleys we saw the ranges of hills, blue with haze, stretching away in billowy perspective to the horizon, with at wide intervals a dim fleck of white or gray on a wave-summit, which we knew was a castle. we crossed broad natural lawns sparkling with dew, and we moved like spirits, the cushioned turf giving out no sound of footfall; we dreamed along through glades in a mist of green light that got its tint from the sun-drenched roof of leaves overhead, and by our feet the clearest and coldest of runlets went frisking and gossiping over its reefs and making a sort of whispering music, comfortable to hear; and at times we left the world behind and entered into the solemn great deeps and rich gloom of the forest, where furtive wild things whisked and scurried by and were gone before you could even get your eye on the place where the noise was; and where only the earliest birds were turning out and getting to business with a song here and a quarrel yonder and a mysterious far-off hammering and drumming for worms on a tree trunk away somewhere in the impenetrable remotenesses of the woods. and by and by out we would swing again into the glare. about the third or fourth or fifth time that we swung out into the glare--it was along there somewhere, a couple of hours or so after sun-up--it wasn't as pleasant as it had been. it was beginning to get hot. this was quite noticeable. we had a very long pull, after that, without any shade. now it is curious how progressively little frets grow and multiply after they once get a start. things which i didn't mind at all, at first, i began to mind now--and more and more, too, all the time. the first ten or fifteen times i wanted my handkerchief i didn't seem to care; i got along, and said never mind, it isn't any matter, and dropped it out of my mind. but now it was different; i wanted it all the time; it was nag, nag, nag, right along, and no rest; i couldn't get it out of my mind; and so at last i lost my temper and said hang a man that would make a suit of armor without any pockets in it. you see i had my handkerchief in my helmet; and some other things; but it was that kind of a helmet that you can't take off by yourself. that hadn't occurred to me when i put it there; and in fact i didn't know it. i supposed it would be particularly convenient there. and so now, the thought of its being there, so handy and close by, and yet not get-at-able, made it all the worse and the harder to bear. yes, the thing that you can't get is the thing that you want, mainly; every one has noticed that. well, it took my mind off from everything else; took it clear off, and centered it in my helmet; and mile after mile, there it stayed, imagining the handkerchief, picturing the handkerchief; and it was bitter and aggravating to have the salt sweat keep trickling down into my eyes, and i couldn't get at it. it seems like a little thing, on paper, but it was not a little thing at all; it was the most real kind of misery. i would not say it if it was not so. i made up my mind that i would carry along a reticule next time, let it look how it might, and people say what they would. of course these iron dudes of the round table would think it was scandalous, and maybe raise sheol about it, but as for me, give me comfort first, and style afterwards. so we jogged along, and now and then we struck a stretch of dust, and it would tumble up in clouds and get into my nose and make me sneeze and cry; and of course i said things i oughtn't to have said, i don't deny that. i am not better than others. we couldn't seem to meet anybody in this lonesome britain, not even an ogre; and, in the mood i was in then, it was well for the ogre; that is, an ogre with a handkerchief. most knights would have thought of nothing but getting his armor; but so i got his bandanna, he could keep his hardware, for all of me. meantime, it was getting hotter and hotter in there. you see, the sun was beating down and warming up the iron more and more all the time. well, when you are hot, that way, every little thing irritates you. when i trotted, i rattled like a crate of dishes, and that annoyed me; and moreover i couldn't seem to stand that shield slatting and banging, now about my breast, now around my back; and if i dropped into a walk my joints creaked and screeched in that wearisome way that a wheelbarrow does, and as we didn't create any breeze at that gait, i was like to get fried in that stove; and besides, the quieter you went the heavier the iron settled down on you and the more and more tons you seemed to weigh every minute. and you had to be always changing hands, and passing your spear over to the other foot, it got so irksome for one hand to hold it long at a time. well, you know, when you perspire that way, in rivers, there comes a time when you--when you--well, when you itch. you are inside, your hands are outside; so there you are; nothing but iron between. it is not a light thing, let it sound as it may. first it is one place; then another; then some more; and it goes on spreading and spreading, and at last the territory is all occupied, and nobody can imagine what you feel like, nor how unpleasant it is. and when it had got to the worst, and it seemed to me that i could not stand anything more, a fly got in through the bars and settled on my nose, and the bars were stuck and wouldn't work, and i couldn't get the visor up; and i could only shake my head, which was baking hot by this time, and the fly--well, you know how a fly acts when he has got a certainty--he only minded the shaking enough to change from nose to lip, and lip to ear, and buzz and buzz all around in there, and keep on lighting and biting, in a way that a person, already so distressed as i was, simply could not stand. so i gave in, and got alisande to unship the helmet and relieve me of it. then she emptied the conveniences out of it and fetched it full of water, and i drank and then stood up, and she poured the rest down inside the armor. one cannot think how refreshing it was. she continued to fetch and pour until i was well soaked and thoroughly comfortable. it was good to have a rest--and peace. but nothing is quite perfect in this life, at any time. i had made a pipe a while back, and also some pretty fair tobacco; not the real thing, but what some of the indians use: the inside bark of the willow, dried. these comforts had been in the helmet, and now i had them again, but no matches. gradually, as the time wore along, one annoying fact was borne in upon my understanding--that we were weather-bound. an armed novice cannot mount his horse without help and plenty of it. sandy was not enough; not enough for me, anyway. we had to wait until somebody should come along. waiting, in silence, would have been agreeable enough, for i was full of matter for reflection, and wanted to give it a chance to work. i wanted to try and think out how it was that rational or even half-rational men could ever have learned to wear armor, considering its inconveniences; and how they had managed to keep up such a fashion for generations when it was plain that what i had suffered to-day they had had to suffer all the days of their lives. i wanted to think that out; and moreover i wanted to think out some way to reform this evil and persuade the people to let the foolish fashion die out; but thinking was out of the question in the circumstances. you couldn't think, where sandy was. she was a quite biddable creature and good-hearted, but she had a flow of talk that was as steady as a mill, and made your head sore like the drays and wagons in a city. if she had had a cork she would have been a comfort. but you can't cork that kind; they would die. her clack was going all day, and you would think something would surely happen to her works, by and by; but no, they never got out of order; and she never had to slack up for words. she could grind, and pump, and churn, and buzz by the week, and never stop to oil up or blow out. and yet the result was just nothing but wind. she never had any ideas, any more than a fog has. she was a perfect blatherskite; i mean for jaw, jaw, jaw, talk, talk, talk, jabber, jabber, jabber; but just as good as she could be. i hadn't minded her mill that morning, on account of having that hornets' nest of other troubles; but more than once in the afternoon i had to say: "take a rest, child; the way you are using up all the domestic air, the kingdom will have to go to importing it by to-morrow, and it's a low enough treasury without that." chapter xiii freemen yes, it is strange how little a while at a time a person can be contented. only a little while back, when i was riding and suffering, what a heaven this peace, this rest, this sweet serenity in this secluded shady nook by this purling stream would have seemed, where i could keep perfectly comfortable all the time by pouring a dipper of water into my armor now and then; yet already i was getting dissatisfied; partly because i could not light my pipe--for, although i had long ago started a match factory, i had forgotten to bring matches with me--and partly because we had nothing to eat. here was another illustration of the childlike improvidence of this age and people. a man in armor always trusted to chance for his food on a journey, and would have been scandalized at the idea of hanging a basket of sandwiches on his spear. there was probably not a knight of all the round table combination who would not rather have died than been caught carrying such a thing as that on his flagstaff. and yet there could not be anything more sensible. it had been my intention to smuggle a couple of sandwiches into my helmet, but i was interrupted in the act, and had to make an excuse and lay them aside, and a dog got them. night approached, and with it a storm. the darkness came on fast. we must camp, of course. i found a good shelter for the demoiselle under a rock, and went off and found another for myself. but i was obliged to remain in my armor, because i could not get it off by myself and yet could not allow alisande to help, because it would have seemed so like undressing before folk. it would not have amounted to that in reality, because i had clothes on underneath; but the prejudices of one's breeding are not gotten rid of just at a jump, and i knew that when it came to stripping off that bob-tailed iron petticoat i should be embarrassed. with the storm came a change of weather; and the stronger the wind blew, and the wilder the rain lashed around, the colder and colder it got. pretty soon, various kinds of bugs and ants and worms and things began to flock in out of the wet and crawl down inside my armor to get warm; and while some of them behaved well enough, and snuggled up amongst my clothes and got quiet, the majority were of a restless, uncomfortable sort, and never stayed still, but went on prowling and hunting for they did not know what; especially the ants, which went tickling along in wearisome procession from one end of me to the other by the hour, and are a kind of creatures which i never wish to sleep with again. it would be my advice to persons situated in this way, to not roll or thrash around, because this excites the interest of all the different sorts of animals and makes every last one of them want to turn out and see what is going on, and this makes things worse than they were before, and of course makes you objurgate harder, too, if you can. still, if one did not roll and thrash around he would die; so perhaps it is as well to do one way as the other; there is no real choice. even after i was frozen solid i could still distinguish that tickling, just as a corpse does when he is taking electric treatment. i said i would never wear armor after this trip. all those trying hours whilst i was frozen and yet was in a living fire, as you may say, on account of that swarm of crawlers, that same unanswerable question kept circling and circling through my tired head: how do people stand this miserable armor? how have they managed to stand it all these generations? how can they sleep at night for dreading the tortures of next day? when the morning came at last, i was in a bad enough plight: seedy, drowsy, fagged, from want of sleep; weary from thrashing around, famished from long fasting; pining for a bath, and to get rid of the animals; and crippled with rheumatism. and how had it fared with the nobly born, the titled aristocrat, the demoiselle alisande la carteloise? why, she was as fresh as a squirrel; she had slept like the dead; and as for a bath, probably neither she nor any other noble in the land had ever had one, and so she was not missing it. measured by modern standards, they were merely modified savages, those people. this noble lady showed no impatience to get to breakfast--and that smacks of the savage, too. on their journeys those britons were used to long fasts, and knew how to bear them; and also how to freight up against probable fasts before starting, after the style of the indian and the anaconda. as like as not, sandy was loaded for a three-day stretch. we were off before sunrise, sandy riding and i limping along behind. in half an hour we came upon a group of ragged poor creatures who had assembled to mend the thing which was regarded as a road. they were as humble as animals to me; and when i proposed to breakfast with them, they were so flattered, so overwhelmed by this extraordinary condescension of mine that at first they were not able to believe that i was in earnest. my lady put up her scornful lip and withdrew to one side; she said in their hearing that she would as soon think of eating with the other cattle--a remark which embarrassed these poor devils merely because it referred to them, and not because it insulted or offended them, for it didn't. and yet they were not slaves, not chattels. by a sarcasm of law and phrase they were freemen. seven-tenths of the free population of the country were of just their class and degree: small "independent" farmers, artisans, etc.; which is to say, they were the nation, the actual nation; they were about all of it that was useful, or worth saving, or really respect-worthy, and to subtract them would have been to subtract the nation and leave behind some dregs, some refuse, in the shape of a king, nobility and gentry, idle, unproductive, acquainted mainly with the arts of wasting and destroying, and of no sort of use or value in any rationally constructed world. and yet, by ingenious contrivance, this gilded minority, instead of being in the tail of the procession where it belonged, was marching head up and banners flying, at the other end of it; had elected itself to be the nation, and these innumerable clams had permitted it so long that they had come at last to accept it as a truth; and not only that, but to believe it right and as it should be. the priests had told their fathers and themselves that this ironical state of things was ordained of god; and so, not reflecting upon how unlike god it would be to amuse himself with sarcasms, and especially such poor transparent ones as this, they had dropped the matter there and become respectfully quiet. the talk of these meek people had a strange enough sound in a formerly american ear. they were freemen, but they could not leave the estates of their lord or their bishop without his permission; they could not prepare their own bread, but must have their corn ground and their bread baked at his mill and his bakery, and pay roundly for the same; they could not sell a piece of their own property without paying him a handsome percentage of the proceeds, nor buy a piece of somebody else's without remembering him in cash for the privilege; they had to harvest his grain for him gratis, and be ready to come at a moment's notice, leaving their own crop to destruction by the threatened storm; they had to let him plant fruit trees in their fields, and then keep their indignation to themselves when his heedless fruit-gatherers trampled the grain around the trees; they had to smother their anger when his hunting parties galloped through their fields laying waste the result of their patient toil; they were not allowed to keep doves themselves, and when the swarms from my lord's dovecote settled on their crops they must not lose their temper and kill a bird, for awful would the penalty be; when the harvest was at last gathered, then came the procession of robbers to levy their blackmail upon it: first the church carted off its fat tenth, then the king's commissioner took his twentieth, then my lord's people made a mighty inroad upon the remainder; after which, the skinned freeman had liberty to bestow the remnant in his barn, in case it was worth the trouble; there were taxes, and taxes, and taxes, and more taxes, and taxes again, and yet other taxes--upon this free and independent pauper, but none upon his lord the baron or the bishop, none upon the wasteful nobility or the all-devouring church; if the baron would sleep unvexed, the freeman must sit up all night after his day's work and whip the ponds to keep the frogs quiet; if the freeman's daughter--but no, that last infamy of monarchical government is unprintable; and finally, if the freeman, grown desperate with his tortures, found his life unendurable under such conditions, and sacrificed it and fled to death for mercy and refuge, the gentle church condemned him to eternal fire, the gentle law buried him at midnight at the cross-roads with a stake through his back, and his master the baron or the bishop confiscated all his property and turned his widow and his orphans out of doors. and here were these freemen assembled in the early morning to work on their lord the bishop's road three days each--gratis; every head of a family, and every son of a family, three days each, gratis, and a day or so added for their servants. why, it was like reading about france and the french, before the ever memorable and blessed revolution, which swept a thousand years of such villany away in one swift tidal-wave of blood--one: a settlement of that hoary debt in the proportion of half a drop of blood for each hogshead of it that had been pressed by slow tortures out of that people in the weary stretch of ten centuries of wrong and shame and misery the like of which was not to be mated but in hell. there were two "reigns of terror," if we would but remember it and consider it; the one wrought murder in hot passion, the other in heartless cold blood; the one lasted mere months, the other had lasted a thousand years; the one inflicted death upon ten thousand persons, the other upon a hundred millions; but our shudders are all for the "horrors" of the minor terror, the momentary terror, so to speak; whereas, what is the horror of swift death by the axe, compared with lifelong death from hunger, cold, insult, cruelty, and heart-break? what is swift death by lightning compared with death by slow fire at the stake? a city cemetery could contain the coffins filled by that brief terror which we have all been so diligently taught to shiver at and mourn over; but all france could hardly contain the coffins filled by that older and real terror --that unspeakably bitter and awful terror which none of us has been taught to see in its vastness or pity as it deserves. these poor ostensible freemen who were sharing their breakfast and their talk with me, were as full of humble reverence for their king and church and nobility as their worst enemy could desire. there was something pitifully ludicrous about it. i asked them if they supposed a nation of people ever existed, who, with a free vote in every man's hand, would elect that a single family and its descendants should reign over it forever, whether gifted or boobies, to the exclusion of all other families--including the voter's; and would also elect that a certain hundred families should be raised to dizzy summits of rank, and clothed on with offensive transmissible glories and privileges to the exclusion of the rest of the nation's families--_including his own_. they all looked unhit, and said they didn't know; that they had never thought about it before, and it hadn't ever occurred to them that a nation could be so situated that every man _could_ have a say in the government. i said i had seen one--and that it would last until it had an established church. again they were all unhit--at first. but presently one man looked up and asked me to state that proposition again; and state it slowly, so it could soak into his understanding. i did it; and after a little he had the idea, and he brought his fist down and said _he_ didn't believe a nation where every man had a vote would voluntarily get down in the mud and dirt in any such way; and that to steal from a nation its will and preference must be a crime and the first of all crimes. i said to myself: "this one's a man. if i were backed by enough of his sort, i would make a strike for the welfare of this country, and try to prove myself its loyalest citizen by making a wholesome change in its system of government." you see my kind of loyalty was loyalty to one's country, not to its institutions or its office-holders. the country is the real thing, the substantial thing, the eternal thing; it is the thing to watch over, and care for, and be loyal to; institutions are extraneous, they are its mere clothing, and clothing can wear out, become ragged, cease to be comfortable, cease to protect the body from winter, disease, and death. to be loyal to rags, to shout for rags, to worship rags, to die for rags--that is a loyalty of unreason, it is pure animal; it belongs to monarchy, was invented by monarchy; let monarchy keep it. i was from connecticut, whose constitution declares "that all political power is inherent in the people, and all free governments are founded on their authority and instituted for their benefit; and that they have _at all times_ an undeniable and indefeasible right to _alter their form of government_ in such a manner as they may think expedient." under that gospel, the citizen who thinks he sees that the commonwealth's political clothes are worn out, and yet holds his peace and does not agitate for a new suit, is disloyal; he is a traitor. that he may be the only one who thinks he sees this decay, does not excuse him; it is his duty to agitate anyway, and it is the duty of the others to vote him down if they do not see the matter as he does. and now here i was, in a country where a right to say how the country should be governed was restricted to six persons in each thousand of its population. for the nine hundred and ninety-four to express dissatisfaction with the regnant system and propose to change it, would have made the whole six shudder as one man, it would have been so disloyal, so dishonorable, such putrid black treason. so to speak, i was become a stockholder in a corporation where nine hundred and ninety-four of the members furnished all the money and did all the work, and the other six elected themselves a permanent board of direction and took all the dividends. it seemed to me that what the nine hundred and ninety-four dupes needed was a new deal. the thing that would have best suited the circus side of my nature would have been to resign the boss-ship and get up an insurrection and turn it into a revolution; but i knew that the jack cade or the wat tyler who tries such a thing without first educating his materials up to revolution grade is almost absolutely certain to get left. i had never been accustomed to getting left, even if i do say it myself. wherefore, the "deal" which had been for some time working into shape in my mind was of a quite different pattern from the cade-tyler sort. so i did not talk blood and insurrection to that man there who sat munching black bread with that abused and mistaught herd of human sheep, but took him aside and talked matter of another sort to him. after i had finished, i got him to lend me a little ink from his veins; and with this and a sliver i wrote on a piece of bark- put him in the man-factory-and gave it to him, and said: "take it to the palace at camelot and give it into the hands of amyas le poulet, whom i call clarence, and he will understand." "he is a priest, then," said the man, and some of the enthusiasm went out of his face. "how--a priest? didn't i tell you that no chattel of the church, no bond-slave of pope or bishop can enter my man-factory? didn't i tell you that _you_ couldn't enter unless your religion, whatever it might be, was your own free property?" "marry, it is so, and for that i was glad; wherefore it liked me not, and bred in me a cold doubt, to hear of this priest being there." "but he isn't a priest, i tell you." the man looked far from satisfied. he said: "he is not a priest, and yet can read?" "he is not a priest and yet can read--yes, and write, too, for that matter. i taught him myself." the man's face cleared. "and it is the first thing that you yourself will be taught in that factory--" "i? i would give blood out of my heart to know that art. why, i will be your slave, your--" "no you won't, you won't be anybody's slave. take your family and go along. your lord the bishop will confiscate your small property, but no matter. clarence will fix you all right." chapter xiv "defend thee, lord" i paid three pennies for my breakfast, and a most extravagant price it was, too, seeing that one could have breakfasted a dozen persons for that money; but i was feeling good by this time, and i had always been a kind of spendthrift anyway; and then these people had wanted to give me the food for nothing, scant as their provision was, and so it was a grateful pleasure to emphasize my appreciation and sincere thankfulness with a good big financial lift where the money would do so much more good than it would in my helmet, where, these pennies being made of iron and not stinted in weight, my half-dollar's worth was a good deal of a burden to me. i spent money rather too freely in those days, it is true; but one reason for it was that i hadn't got the proportions of things entirely adjusted, even yet, after so long a sojourn in britain--hadn't got along to where i was able to absolutely realize that a penny in arthur's land and a couple of dollars in connecticut were about one and the same thing: just twins, as you may say, in purchasing power. if my start from camelot could have been delayed a very few days i could have paid these people in beautiful new coins from our own mint, and that would have pleased me; and them, too, not less. i had adopted the american values exclusively. in a week or two now, cents, nickels, dimes, quarters, and half-dollars, and also a trifle of gold, would be trickling in thin but steady streams all through the commercial veins of the kingdom, and i looked to see this new blood freshen up its life. the farmers were bound to throw in something, to sort of offset my liberality, whether i would or no; so i let them give me a flint and steel; and as soon as they had comfortably bestowed sandy and me on our horse, i lit my pipe. when the first blast of smoke shot out through the bars of my helmet, all those people broke for the woods, and sandy went over backwards and struck the ground with a dull thud. they thought i was one of those fire-belching dragons they had heard so much about from knights and other professional liars. i had infinite trouble to persuade those people to venture back within explaining distance. then i told them that this was only a bit of enchantment which would work harm to none but my enemies. and i promised, with my hand on my heart, that if all who felt no enmity toward me would come forward and pass before me they should see that only those who remained behind would be struck dead. the procession moved with a good deal of promptness. there were no casualties to report, for nobody had curiosity enough to remain behind to see what would happen. i lost some time, now, for these big children, their fears gone, became so ravished with wonder over my awe-compelling fireworks that i had to stay there and smoke a couple of pipes out before they would let me go. still the delay was not wholly unproductive, for it took all that time to get sandy thoroughly wonted to the new thing, she being so close to it, you know. it plugged up her conversation mill, too, for a considerable while, and that was a gain. but above all other benefits accruing, i had learned something. i was ready for any giant or any ogre that might come along, now. we tarried with a holy hermit, that night, and my opportunity came about the middle of the next afternoon. we were crossing a vast meadow by way of short-cut, and i was musing absently, hearing nothing, seeing nothing, when sandy suddenly interrupted a remark which she had begun that morning, with the cry: "defend thee, lord!--peril of life is toward!" and she slipped down from the horse and ran a little way and stood. i looked up and saw, far off in the shade of a tree, half a dozen armed knights and their squires; and straightway there was bustle among them and tightening of saddle-girths for the mount. my pipe was ready and would have been lit, if i had not been lost in thinking about how to banish oppression from this land and restore to all its people their stolen rights and manhood without disobliging anybody. i lit up at once, and by the time i had got a good head of reserved steam on, here they came. all together, too; none of those chivalrous magnanimities which one reads so much about --one courtly rascal at a time, and the rest standing by to see fair play. no, they came in a body, they came with a whirr and a rush, they came like a volley from a battery; came with heads low down, plumes streaming out behind, lances advanced at a level. it was a handsome sight, a beautiful sight--for a man up a tree. i laid my lance in rest and waited, with my heart beating, till the iron wave was just ready to break over me, then spouted a column of white smoke through the bars of my helmet. you should have seen the wave go to pieces and scatter! this was a finer sight than the other one. but these people stopped, two or three hundred yards away, and this troubled me. my satisfaction collapsed, and fear came; i judged i was a lost man. but sandy was radiant; and was going to be eloquent--but i stopped her, and told her my magic had miscarried, somehow or other, and she must mount, with all despatch, and we must ride for life. no, she wouldn't. she said that my enchantment had disabled those knights; they were not riding on, because they couldn't; wait, they would drop out of their saddles presently, and we would get their horses and harness. i could not deceive such trusting simplicity, so i said it was a mistake; that when my fireworks killed at all, they killed instantly; no, the men would not die, there was something wrong about my apparatus, i couldn't tell what; but we must hurry and get away, for those people would attack us again, in a minute. sandy laughed, and said: "lack-a-day, sir, they be not of that breed! sir launcelot will give battle to dragons, and will abide by them, and will assail them again, and yet again, and still again, until he do conquer and destroy them; and so likewise will sir pellinore and sir aglovale and sir carados, and mayhap others, but there be none else that will venture it, let the idle say what the idle will. and, la, as to yonder base rufflers, think ye they have not their fill, but yet desire more?" "well, then, what are they waiting for? why don't they leave? nobody's hindering. good land, i'm willing to let bygones be bygones, i'm sure." "leave, is it? oh, give thyself easement as to that. they dream not of it, no, not they. they wait to yield them." "come--really, is that 'sooth'--as you people say? if they want to, why don't they?" "it would like them much; but an ye wot how dragons are esteemed, ye would not hold them blamable. they fear to come." "well, then, suppose i go to them instead, and--" "ah, wit ye well they would not abide your coming. i will go." and she did. she was a handy person to have along on a raid. i would have considered this a doubtful errand, myself. i presently saw the knights riding away, and sandy coming back. that was a relief. i judged she had somehow failed to get the first innings --i mean in the conversation; otherwise the interview wouldn't have been so short. but it turned out that she had managed the business well; in fact, admirably. she said that when she told those people i was the boss, it hit them where they lived: "smote them sore with fear and dread" was her word; and then they were ready to put up with anything she might require. so she swore them to appear at arthur's court within two days and yield them, with horse and harness, and be my knights henceforth, and subject to my command. how much better she managed that thing than i should have done it myself! she was a daisy. chapter xv sandy's tale "and so i'm proprietor of some knights," said i, as we rode off. "who would ever have supposed that i should live to list up assets of that sort. i shan't know what to do with them; unless i raffle them off. how many of them are there, sandy?" "seven, please you, sir, and their squires." "it is a good haul. who are they? where do they hang out?" "where do they hang out?" "yes, where do they live?" "ah, i understood thee not. that will i tell eftsoons." then she said musingly, and softly, turning the words daintily over her tongue: "hang they out--hang they out--where hang--where do they hang out; eh, right so; where do they hang out. of a truth the phrase hath a fair and winsome grace, and is prettily worded withal. i will repeat it anon and anon in mine idlesse, whereby i may peradventure learn it. where do they hang out. even so! already it falleth trippingly from my tongue, and forasmuch as--" "don't forget the cowboys, sandy." "cowboys?" "yes; the knights, you know: you were going to tell me about them. a while back, you remember. figuratively speaking, game's called." "game--" "yes, yes, yes! go to the bat. i mean, get to work on your statistics, and don't burn so much kindling getting your fire started. tell me about the knights." "i will well, and lightly will begin. so they two departed and rode into a great forest. and--" "great scott!" you see, i recognized my mistake at once. i had set her works a-going; it was my own fault; she would be thirty days getting down to those facts. and she generally began without a preface and finished without a result. if you interrupted her she would either go right along without noticing, or answer with a couple of words, and go back and say the sentence over again. so, interruptions only did harm; and yet i had to interrupt, and interrupt pretty frequently, too, in order to save my life; a person would die if he let her monotony drip on him right along all day. "great scott!" i said in my distress. she went right back and began over again: "so they two departed and rode into a great forest. and--" "_which_ two?" "sir gawaine and sir uwaine. and so they came to an abbey of monks, and there were well lodged. so on the morn they heard their masses in the abbey, and so they rode forth till they came to a great forest; then was sir gawaine ware in a valley by a turret, of twelve fair damsels, and two knights armed on great horses, and the damsels went to and fro by a tree. and then was sir gawaine ware how there hung a white shield on that tree, and ever as the damsels came by it they spit upon it, and some threw mire upon the shield--" "now, if i hadn't seen the like myself in this country, sandy, i wouldn't believe it. but i've seen it, and i can just see those creatures now, parading before that shield and acting like that. the women here do certainly act like all possessed. yes, and i mean your best, too, society's very choicest brands. the humblest hello-girl along ten thousand miles of wire could teach gentleness, patience, modesty, manners, to the highest duchess in arthur's land." "hello-girl?" "yes, but don't you ask me to explain; it's a new kind of a girl; they don't have them here; one often speaks sharply to them when they are not the least in fault, and he can't get over feeling sorry for it and ashamed of himself in thirteen hundred years, it's such shabby mean conduct and so unprovoked; the fact is, no gentleman ever does it--though i--well, i myself, if i've got to confess--" "peradventure she--" "never mind her; never mind her; i tell you i couldn't ever explain her so you would understand." "even so be it, sith ye are so minded. then sir gawaine and sir uwaine went and saluted them, and asked them why they did that despite to the shield. sirs, said the damsels, we shall tell you. there is a knight in this country that owneth this white shield, and he is a passing good man of his hands, but he hateth all ladies and gentlewomen, and therefore we do all this despite to the shield. i will say you, said sir gawaine, it beseemeth evil a good knight to despise all ladies and gentlewomen, and peradventure though he hate you he hath some cause, and peradventure he loveth in some other places ladies and gentlewomen, and to be loved again, and he such a man of prowess as ye speak of--" "man of prowess--yes, that is the man to please them, sandy. man of brains--that is a thing they never think of. tom sayers --john heenan--john l. sullivan--pity but you could be here. you would have your legs under the round table and a 'sir' in front of your names within the twenty-four hours; and you could bring about a new distribution of the married princesses and duchesses of the court in another twenty-four. the fact is, it is just a sort of polished-up court of comanches, and there isn't a squaw in it who doesn't stand ready at the dropping of a hat to desert to the buck with the biggest string of scalps at his belt." "--and he be such a man of prowess as ye speak of, said sir gawaine. now, what is his name? sir, said they, his name is marhaus the king's son of ireland." "son of the king of ireland, you mean; the other form doesn't mean anything. and look out and hold on tight, now, we must jump this gully.... there, we are all right now. this horse belongs in the circus; he is born before his time." "i know him well, said sir uwaine, he is a passing good knight as any is on live." "_on live_. if you've got a fault in the world, sandy, it is that you are a shade too archaic. but it isn't any matter." "--for i saw him once proved at a justs where many knights were gathered, and that time there might no man withstand him. ah, said sir gawaine, damsels, methinketh ye are to blame, for it is to suppose he that hung that shield there will not be long therefrom, and then may those knights match him on horseback, and that is more your worship than thus; for i will abide no longer to see a knight's shield dishonored. and therewith sir uwaine and sir gawaine departed a little from them, and then were they ware where sir marhaus came riding on a great horse straight toward them. and when the twelve damsels saw sir marhaus they fled into the turret as they were wild, so that some of them fell by the way. then the one of the knights of the tower dressed his shield, and said on high, sir marhaus defend thee. and so they ran together that the knight brake his spear on marhaus, and sir marhaus smote him so hard that he brake his neck and the horse's back--" "well, that is just the trouble about this state of things, it ruins so many horses." "that saw the other knight of the turret, and dressed him toward marhaus, and they went so eagerly together, that the knight of the turret was soon smitten down, horse and man, stark dead--" "_another_ horse gone; i tell you it is a custom that ought to be broken up. i don't see how people with any feeling can applaud and support it." . . . . "so these two knights came together with great random--" i saw that i had been asleep and missed a chapter, but i didn't say anything. i judged that the irish knight was in trouble with the visitors by this time, and this turned out to be the case. "--that sir uwaine smote sir marhaus that his spear brast in pieces on the shield, and sir marhaus smote him so sore that horse and man he bare to the earth, and hurt sir uwaine on the left side--" "the truth is, alisande, these archaics are a little _too_ simple; the vocabulary is too limited, and so, by consequence, descriptions suffer in the matter of variety; they run too much to level saharas of fact, and not enough to picturesque detail; this throws about them a certain air of the monotonous; in fact the fights are all alike: a couple of people come together with great random --random is a good word, and so is exegesis, for that matter, and so is holocaust, and defalcation, and usufruct and a hundred others, but land! a body ought to discriminate--they come together with great random, and a spear is brast, and one party brake his shield and the other one goes down, horse and man, over his horse-tail and brake his neck, and then the next candidate comes randoming in, and brast _his_ spear, and the other man brast his shield, and down _he_ goes, horse and man, over his horse-tail, and brake _his_ neck, and then there's another elected, and another and another and still another, till the material is all used up; and when you come to figure up results, you can't tell one fight from another, nor who whipped; and as a _picture_, of living, raging, roaring battle, sho! why, it's pale and noiseless--just ghosts scuffling in a fog. dear me, what would this barren vocabulary get out of the mightiest spectacle?--the burning of rome in nero's time, for instance? why, it would merely say, 'town burned down; no insurance; boy brast a window, fireman brake his neck!' why, _that_ ain't a picture!" it was a good deal of a lecture, i thought, but it didn't disturb sandy, didn't turn a feather; her steam soared steadily up again, the minute i took off the lid: "then sir marhaus turned his horse and rode toward gawaine with his spear. and when sir gawaine saw that, he dressed his shield, and they aventred their spears, and they came together with all the might of their horses, that either knight smote other so hard in the midst of their shields, but sir gawaine's spear brake--" "i knew it would." --"but sir marhaus's spear held; and therewith sir gawaine and his horse rushed down to the earth--" "just so--and brake his back." --"and lightly sir gawaine rose upon his feet and pulled out his sword, and dressed him toward sir marhaus on foot, and therewith either came unto other eagerly, and smote together with their swords, that their shields flew in cantels, and they bruised their helms and their hauberks, and wounded either other. but sir gawaine, fro it passed nine of the clock, waxed by the space of three hours ever stronger and stronger and thrice his might was increased. all this espied sir marhaus, and had great wonder how his might increased, and so they wounded other passing sore; and then when it was come noon--" the pelting sing-song of it carried me forward to scenes and sounds of my boyhood days: "n-e-e-ew haven! ten minutes for refreshments--knductr'll strike the gong-bell two minutes before train leaves--passengers for the shore-line please take seats in the rear k'yar, this k'yar don't go no furder--_ahh_-pls, _aw_-rnjz, b'_nan_ners, _s-a-n-d_'ches, p--_op_-corn!" --"and waxed past noon and drew toward evensong. sir gawaine's strength feebled and waxed passing faint, that unnethes he might dure any longer, and sir marhaus was then bigger and bigger--" "which strained his armor, of course; and yet little would one of these people mind a small thing like that." --"and so, sir knight, said sir marhaus, i have well felt that ye are a passing good knight, and a marvelous man of might as ever i felt any, while it lasteth, and our quarrels are not great, and therefore it were a pity to do you hurt, for i feel you are passing feeble. ah, said sir gawaine, gentle knight, ye say the word that i should say. and therewith they took off their helms and either kissed other, and there they swore together either to love other as brethren--" but i lost the thread there, and dozed off to slumber, thinking about what a pity it was that men with such superb strength --strength enabling them to stand up cased in cruelly burdensome iron and drenched with perspiration, and hack and batter and bang each other for six hours on a stretch--should not have been born at a time when they could put it to some useful purpose. take a jackass, for instance: a jackass has that kind of strength, and puts it to a useful purpose, and is valuable to this world because he is a jackass; but a nobleman is not valuable because he is a jackass. it is a mixture that is always ineffectual, and should never have been attempted in the first place. and yet, once you start a mistake, the trouble is done and you never know what is going to come of it. when i came to myself again and began to listen, i perceived that i had lost another chapter, and that alisande had wandered a long way off with her people. "and so they rode and came into a deep valley full of stones, and thereby they saw a fair stream of water; above thereby was the head of the stream, a fair fountain, and three damsels sitting thereby. in this country, said sir marhaus, came never knight since it was christened, but he found strange adventures--" "this is not good form, alisande. sir marhaus the king's son of ireland talks like all the rest; you ought to give him a brogue, or at least a characteristic expletive; by this means one would recognize him as soon as he spoke, without his ever being named. it is a common literary device with the great authors. you should make him say, 'in this country, be jabers, came never knight since it was christened, but he found strange adventures, be jabers.' you see how much better that sounds." --"came never knight but he found strange adventures, be jabers. of a truth it doth indeed, fair lord, albeit 'tis passing hard to say, though peradventure that will not tarry but better speed with usage. and then they rode to the damsels, and either saluted other, and the eldest had a garland of gold about her head, and she was threescore winter of age or more--" "the _damsel_ was?" "even so, dear lord--and her hair was white under the garland--" "celluloid teeth, nine dollars a set, as like as not--the loose-fit kind, that go up and down like a portcullis when you eat, and fall out when you laugh." "the second damsel was of thirty winter of age, with a circlet of gold about her head. the third damsel was but fifteen year of age--" billows of thought came rolling over my soul, and the voice faded out of my hearing! fifteen! break--my heart! oh, my lost darling! just her age who was so gentle, and lovely, and all the world to me, and whom i shall never see again! how the thought of her carries me back over wide seas of memory to a vague dim time, a happy time, so many, many centuries hence, when i used to wake in the soft summer mornings, out of sweet dreams of her, and say "hello, central!" just to hear her dear voice come melting back to me with a "hello, hank!" that was music of the spheres to my enchanted ear. she got three dollars a week, but she was worth it. i could not follow alisande's further explanation of who our captured knights were, now--i mean in case she should ever get to explaining who they were. my interest was gone, my thoughts were far away, and sad. by fitful glimpses of the drifting tale, caught here and there and now and then, i merely noted in a vague way that each of these three knights took one of these three damsels up behind him on his horse, and one rode north, another east, the other south, to seek adventures, and meet again and lie, after year and day. year and day--and without baggage. it was of a piece with the general simplicity of the country. the sun was now setting. it was about three in the afternoon when alisande had begun to tell me who the cowboys were; so she had made pretty good progress with it--for her. she would arrive some time or other, no doubt, but she was not a person who could be hurried. we were approaching a castle which stood on high ground; a huge, strong, venerable structure, whose gray towers and battlements were charmingly draped with ivy, and whose whole majestic mass was drenched with splendors flung from the sinking sun. it was the largest castle we had seen, and so i thought it might be the one we were after, but sandy said no. she did not know who owned it; she said she had passed it without calling, when she went down to camelot. chapter xvi morgan le fay if knights errant were to be believed, not all castles were desirable places to seek hospitality in. as a matter of fact, knights errant were _not_ persons to be believed--that is, measured by modern standards of veracity; yet, measured by the standards of their own time, and scaled accordingly, you got the truth. it was very simple: you discounted a statement ninety-seven per cent; the rest was fact. now after making this allowance, the truth remained that if i could find out something about a castle before ringing the door-bell--i mean hailing the warders--it was the sensible thing to do. so i was pleased when i saw in the distance a horseman making the bottom turn of the road that wound down from this castle. as we approached each other, i saw that he wore a plumed helmet, and seemed to be otherwise clothed in steel, but bore a curious addition also--a stiff square garment like a herald's tabard. however, i had to smile at my own forgetfulness when i got nearer and read this sign on his tabard: "persimmon's soap -all the prime-donna use it." that was a little idea of my own, and had several wholesome purposes in view toward the civilizing and uplifting of this nation. in the first place, it was a furtive, underhand blow at this nonsense of knight errantry, though nobody suspected that but me. i had started a number of these people out--the bravest knights i could get--each sandwiched between bulletin-boards bearing one device or another, and i judged that by and by when they got to be numerous enough they would begin to look ridiculous; and then, even the steel-clad ass that _hadn't_ any board would himself begin to look ridiculous because he was out of the fashion. secondly, these missionaries would gradually, and without creating suspicion or exciting alarm, introduce a rudimentary cleanliness among the nobility, and from them it would work down to the people, if the priests could be kept quiet. this would undermine the church. i mean would be a step toward that. next, education--next, freedom --and then she would begin to crumble. it being my conviction that any established church is an established crime, an established slave-pen, i had no scruples, but was willing to assail it in any way or with any weapon that promised to hurt it. why, in my own former day--in remote centuries not yet stirring in the womb of time--there were old englishmen who imagined that they had been born in a free country: a "free" country with the corporation act and the test still in force in it--timbers propped against men's liberties and dishonored consciences to shore up an established anachronism with. my missionaries were taught to spell out the gilt signs on their tabards--the showy gilding was a neat idea, i could have got the king to wear a bulletin-board for the sake of that barbaric splendor--they were to spell out these signs and then explain to the lords and ladies what soap was; and if the lords and ladies were afraid of it, get them to try it on a dog. the missionary's next move was to get the family together and try it on himself; he was to stop at no experiment, however desperate, that could convince the nobility that soap was harmless; if any final doubt remained, he must catch a hermit--the woods were full of them; saints they called themselves, and saints they were believed to be. they were unspeakably holy, and worked miracles, and everybody stood in awe of them. if a hermit could survive a wash, and that failed to convince a duke, give him up, let him alone. whenever my missionaries overcame a knight errant on the road they washed him, and when he got well they swore him to go and get a bulletin-board and disseminate soap and civilization the rest of his days. as a consequence the workers in the field were increasing by degrees, and the reform was steadily spreading. my soap factory felt the strain early. at first i had only two hands; but before i had left home i was already employing fifteen, and running night and day; and the atmospheric result was getting so pronounced that the king went sort of fainting and gasping around and said he did not believe he could stand it much longer, and sir launcelot got so that he did hardly anything but walk up and down the roof and swear, although i told him it was worse up there than anywhere else, but he said he wanted plenty of air; and he was always complaining that a palace was no place for a soap factory anyway, and said if a man was to start one in his house he would be damned if he wouldn't strangle him. there were ladies present, too, but much these people ever cared for that; they would swear before children, if the wind was their way when the factory was going. this missionary knight's name was la cote male taile, and he said that this castle was the abode of morgan le fay, sister of king arthur, and wife of king uriens, monarch of a realm about as big as the district of columbia--you could stand in the middle of it and throw bricks into the next kingdom. "kings" and "kingdoms" were as thick in britain as they had been in little palestine in joshua's time, when people had to sleep with their knees pulled up because they couldn't stretch out without a passport. la cote was much depressed, for he had scored here the worst failure of his campaign. he had not worked off a cake; yet he had tried all the tricks of the trade, even to the washing of a hermit; but the hermit died. this was, indeed, a bad failure, for this animal would now be dubbed a martyr, and would take his place among the saints of the roman calendar. thus made he his moan, this poor sir la cote male taile, and sorrowed passing sore. and so my heart bled for him, and i was moved to comfort and stay him. wherefore i said: "forbear to grieve, fair knight, for this is not a defeat. we have brains, you and i; and for such as have brains there are no defeats, but only victories. observe how we will turn this seeming disaster into an advertisement; an advertisement for our soap; and the biggest one, to draw, that was ever thought of; an advertisement that will transform that mount washington defeat into a matterhorn victory. we will put on your bulletin-board, '_patronized by the elect_.' how does that strike you?" "verily, it is wonderly bethought!" "well, a body is bound to admit that for just a modest little one-line ad, it's a corker." so the poor colporteur's griefs vanished away. he was a brave fellow, and had done mighty feats of arms in his time. his chief celebrity rested upon the events of an excursion like this one of mine, which he had once made with a damsel named maledisant, who was as handy with her tongue as was sandy, though in a different way, for her tongue churned forth only railings and insult, whereas sandy's music was of a kindlier sort. i knew his story well, and so i knew how to interpret the compassion that was in his face when he bade me farewell. he supposed i was having a bitter hard time of it. sandy and i discussed his story, as we rode along, and she said that la cote's bad luck had begun with the very beginning of that trip; for the king's fool had overthrown him on the first day, and in such cases it was customary for the girl to desert to the conqueror, but maledisant didn't do it; and also persisted afterward in sticking to him, after all his defeats. but, said i, suppose the victor should decline to accept his spoil? she said that that wouldn't answer--he must. he couldn't decline; it wouldn't be regular. i made a note of that. if sandy's music got to be too burdensome, some time, i would let a knight defeat me, on the chance that she would desert to him. in due time we were challenged by the warders, from the castle walls, and after a parley admitted. i have nothing pleasant to tell about that visit. but it was not a disappointment, for i knew mrs. le fay by reputation, and was not expecting anything pleasant. she was held in awe by the whole realm, for she had made everybody believe she was a great sorceress. all her ways were wicked, all her instincts devilish. she was loaded to the eyelids with cold malice. all her history was black with crime; and among her crimes murder was common. i was most curious to see her; as curious as i could have been to see satan. to my surprise she was beautiful; black thoughts had failed to make her expression repulsive, age had failed to wrinkle her satin skin or mar its bloomy freshness. she could have passed for old uriens' granddaughter, she could have been mistaken for sister to her own son. as soon as we were fairly within the castle gates we were ordered into her presence. king uriens was there, a kind-faced old man with a subdued look; and also the son, sir uwaine le blanchemains, in whom i was, of course, interested on account of the tradition that he had once done battle with thirty knights, and also on account of his trip with sir gawaine and sir marhaus, which sandy had been aging me with. but morgan was the main attraction, the conspicuous personality here; she was head chief of this household, that was plain. she caused us to be seated, and then she began, with all manner of pretty graces and graciousnesses, to ask me questions. dear me, it was like a bird or a flute, or something, talking. i felt persuaded that this woman must have been misrepresented, lied about. she trilled along, and trilled along, and presently a handsome young page, clothed like the rainbow, and as easy and undulatory of movement as a wave, came with something on a golden salver, and, kneeling to present it to her, overdid his graces and lost his balance, and so fell lightly against her knee. she slipped a dirk into him in as matter-of-course a way as another person would have harpooned a rat! poor child! he slumped to the floor, twisted his silken limbs in one great straining contortion of pain, and was dead. out of the old king was wrung an involuntary "o-h!" of compassion. the look he got, made him cut it suddenly short and not put any more hyphens in it. sir uwaine, at a sign from his mother, went to the anteroom and called some servants, and meanwhile madame went rippling sweetly along with her talk. i saw that she was a good housekeeper, for while she talked she kept a corner of her eye on the servants to see that they made no balks in handling the body and getting it out; when they came with fresh clean towels, she sent back for the other kind; and when they had finished wiping the floor and were going, she indicated a crimson fleck the size of a tear which their duller eyes had overlooked. it was plain to me that la cote male taile had failed to see the mistress of the house. often, how louder and clearer than any tongue, does dumb circumstantial evidence speak. morgan le fay rippled along as musically as ever. marvelous woman. and what a glance she had: when it fell in reproof upon those servants, they shrunk and quailed as timid people do when the lightning flashes out of a cloud. i could have got the habit myself. it was the same with that poor old brer uriens; he was always on the ragged edge of apprehension; she could not even turn toward him but he winced. in the midst of the talk i let drop a complimentary word about king arthur, forgetting for the moment how this woman hated her brother. that one little compliment was enough. she clouded up like storm; she called for her guards, and said: "hale me these varlets to the dungeons." that struck cold on my ears, for her dungeons had a reputation. nothing occurred to me to say--or do. but not so with sandy. as the guard laid a hand upon me, she piped up with the tranquilest confidence, and said: "god's wounds, dost thou covet destruction, thou maniac? it is the boss!" now what a happy idea that was!--and so simple; yet it would never have occurred to me. i was born modest; not all over, but in spots; and this was one of the spots. the effect upon madame was electrical. it cleared her countenance and brought back her smiles and all her persuasive graces and blandishments; but nevertheless she was not able to entirely cover up with them the fact that she was in a ghastly fright. she said: "la, but do list to thine handmaid! as if one gifted with powers like to mine might say the thing which i have said unto one who has vanquished merlin, and not be jesting. by mine enchantments i foresaw your coming, and by them i knew you when you entered here. i did but play this little jest with hope to surprise you into some display of your art, as not doubting you would blast the guards with occult fires, consuming them to ashes on the spot, a marvel much beyond mine own ability, yet one which i have long been childishly curious to see." the guards were less curious, and got out as soon as they got permission. a connecticut yankee in king arthur's court by mark twain (samuel l. clemens) part 9. chapter xli the interdict however, my attention was suddenly snatched from such matters; our child began to lose ground again, and we had to go to sitting up with her, her case became so serious. we couldn't bear to allow anybody to help in this service, so we two stood watch-and-watch, day in and day out. ah, sandy, what a right heart she had, how simple, and genuine, and good she was! she was a flawless wife and mother; and yet i had married her for no other particular reasons, except that by the customs of chivalry she was my property until some knight should win her from me in the field. she had hunted britain over for me; had found me at the hanging-bout outside of london, and had straightway resumed her old place at my side in the placidest way and as of right. i was a new englander, and in my opinion this sort of partnership would compromise her, sooner or later. she couldn't see how, but i cut argument short and we had a wedding. now i didn't know i was drawing a prize, yet that was what i did draw. within the twelvemonth i became her worshiper; and ours was the dearest and perfectest comradeship that ever was. people talk about beautiful friendships between two persons of the same sex. what is the best of that sort, as compared with the friendship of man and wife, where the best impulses and highest ideals of both are the same? there is no place for comparison between the two friendships; the one is earthly, the other divine. in my dreams, along at first, i still wandered thirteen centuries away, and my unsatisfied spirit went calling and harking all up and down the unreplying vacancies of a vanished world. many a time sandy heard that imploring cry come from my lips in my sleep. with a grand magnanimity she saddled that cry of mine upon our child, conceiving it to be the name of some lost darling of mine. it touched me to tears, and it also nearly knocked me off my feet, too, when she smiled up in my face for an earned reward, and played her quaint and pretty surprise upon me: "the name of one who was dear to thee is here preserved, here made holy, and the music of it will abide alway in our ears. now thou'lt kiss me, as knowing the name i have given the child." but i didn't know it, all the same. i hadn't an idea in the world; but it would have been cruel to confess it and spoil her pretty game; so i never let on, but said: "yes, i know, sweetheart--how dear and good it is of you, too! but i want to hear these lips of yours, which are also mine, utter it first--then its music will be perfect." pleased to the marrow, she murmured: "hello-central!" i didn't laugh--i am always thankful for that--but the strain ruptured every cartilage in me, and for weeks afterward i could hear my bones clack when i walked. she never found out her mistake. the first time she heard that form of salute used at the telephone she was surprised, and not pleased; but i told her i had given order for it: that henceforth and forever the telephone must always be invoked with that reverent formality, in perpetual honor and remembrance of my lost friend and her small namesake. this was not true. but it answered. well, during two weeks and a half we watched by the crib, and in our deep solicitude we were unconscious of any world outside of that sick-room. then our reward came: the center of the universe turned the corner and began to mend. grateful? it isn't the term. there _isn't_ any term for it. you know that yourself, if you've watched your child through the valley of the shadow and seen it come back to life and sweep night out of the earth with one all-illuminating smile that you could cover with your hand. why, we were back in this world in one instant! then we looked the same startled thought into each other's eyes at the same moment; more than two weeks gone, and that ship not back yet! in another minute i appeared in the presence of my train. they had been steeped in troubled bodings all this time--their faces showed it. i called an escort and we galloped five miles to a hilltop overlooking the sea. where was my great commerce that so lately had made these glistening expanses populous and beautiful with its white-winged flocks? vanished, every one! not a sail, from verge to verge, not a smoke-bank--just a dead and empty solitude, in place of all that brisk and breezy life. i went swiftly back, saying not a word to anybody. i told sandy this ghastly news. we could imagine no explanation that would begin to explain. had there been an invasion? an earthquake? a pestilence? had the nation been swept out of existence? but guessing was profitless. i must go--at once. i borrowed the king's navy--a "ship" no bigger than a steam launch--and was soon ready. the parting--ah, yes, that was hard. as i was devouring the child with last kisses, it brisked up and jabbered out its vocabulary! --the first time in more than two weeks, and it made fools of us for joy. the darling mispronunciations of childhood!--dear me, there's no music that can touch it; and how one grieves when it wastes away and dissolves into correctness, knowing it will never visit his bereaved ear again. well, how good it was to be able to carry that gracious memory away with me! i approached england the next morning, with the wide highway of salt water all to myself. there were ships in the harbor, at dover, but they were naked as to sails, and there was no sign of life about them. it was sunday; yet at canterbury the streets were empty; strangest of all, there was not even a priest in sight, and no stroke of a bell fell upon my ear. the mournfulness of death was everywhere. i couldn't understand it. at last, in the further edge of that town i saw a small funeral procession --just a family and a few friends following a coffin--no priest; a funeral without bell, book, or candle; there was a church there close at hand, but they passed it by weeping, and did not enter it; i glanced up at the belfry, and there hung the bell, shrouded in black, and its tongue tied back. now i knew! now i understood the stupendous calamity that had overtaken england. invasion? invasion is a triviality to it. it was the interdict! i asked no questions; i didn't need to ask any. the church had struck; the thing for me to do was to get into a disguise, and go warily. one of my servants gave me a suit of clothes, and when we were safe beyond the town i put them on, and from that time i traveled alone; i could not risk the embarrassment of company. a miserable journey. a desolate silence everywhere. even in london itself. traffic had ceased; men did not talk or laugh, or go in groups, or even in couples; they moved aimlessly about, each man by himself, with his head down, and woe and terror at his heart. the tower showed recent war-scars. verily, much had been happening. of course, i meant to take the train for camelot. train! why, the station was as vacant as a cavern. i moved on. the journey to camelot was a repetition of what i had already seen. the monday and the tuesday differed in no way from the sunday. i arrived far in the night. from being the best electric-lighted town in the kingdom and the most like a recumbent sun of anything you ever saw, it was become simply a blot--a blot upon darkness--that is to say, it was darker and solider than the rest of the darkness, and so you could see it a little better; it made me feel as if maybe it was symbolical--a sort of sign that the church was going to _keep_ the upper hand now, and snuff out all my beautiful civilization just like that. i found no life stirring in the somber streets. i groped my way with a heavy heart. the vast castle loomed black upon the hilltop, not a spark visible about it. the drawbridge was down, the great gate stood wide, i entered without challenge, my own heels making the only sound i heard--and it was sepulchral enough, in those huge vacant courts. chapter xlii war! i found clarence alone in his quarters, drowned in melancholy; and in place of the electric light, he had reinstituted the ancient rag-lamp, and sat there in a grisly twilight with all curtains drawn tight. he sprang up and rushed for me eagerly, saying: "oh, it's worth a billion milrays to look upon a live person again!" he knew me as easily as if i hadn't been disguised at all. which frightened me; one may easily believe that. "quick, now, tell me the meaning of this fearful disaster," i said. "how did it come about?" "well, if there hadn't been any queen guenever, it wouldn't have come so early; but it would have come, anyway. it would have come on your own account by and by; by luck, it happened to come on the queen's." "_and_ sir launcelot's?" "just so." "give me the details." "i reckon you will grant that during some years there has been only one pair of eyes in these kingdoms that has not been looking steadily askance at the queen and sir launcelot--" "yes, king arthur's." "--and only one heart that was without suspicion--" "yes--the king's; a heart that isn't capable of thinking evil of a friend." "well, the king might have gone on, still happy and unsuspecting, to the end of his days, but for one of your modern improvements --the stock-board. when you left, three miles of the london, canterbury and dover were ready for the rails, and also ready and ripe for manipulation in the stock-market. it was wildcat, and everybody knew it. the stock was for sale at a give-away. what does sir launcelot do, but--" "yes, i know; he quietly picked up nearly all of it for a song; then he bought about twice as much more, deliverable upon call; and he was about to call when i left." "very well, he did call. the boys couldn't deliver. oh, he had them--and he just settled his grip and squeezed them. they were laughing in their sleeves over their smartness in selling stock to him at 15 and 16 and along there that wasn't worth 10. well, when they had laughed long enough on that side of their mouths, they rested-up that side by shifting the laugh to the other side. that was when they compromised with the invincible at 283!" "good land!" "he skinned them alive, and they deserved it--anyway, the whole kingdom rejoiced. well, among the flayed were sir agravaine and sir mordred, nephews to the king. end of the first act. act second, scene first, an apartment in carlisle castle, where the court had gone for a few days' hunting. persons present, the whole tribe of the king's nephews. mordred and agravaine propose to call the guileless arthur's attention to guenever and sir launcelot. sir gawaine, sir gareth, and sir gaheris will have nothing to do with it. a dispute ensues, with loud talk; in the midst of it enter the king. mordred and agravaine spring their devastating tale upon him. _tableau_. a trap is laid for launcelot, by the king's command, and sir launcelot walks into it. he made it sufficiently uncomfortable for the ambushed witnesses--to wit, mordred, agravaine, and twelve knights of lesser rank, for he killed every one of them but mordred; but of course that couldn't straighten matters between launcelot and the king, and didn't." "oh, dear, only one thing could result--i see that. war, and the knights of the realm divided into a king's party and a sir launcelot's party." "yes--that was the way of it. the king sent the queen to the stake, proposing to purify her with fire. launcelot and his knights rescued her, and in doing it slew certain good old friends of yours and mine--in fact, some of the best we ever had; to wit, sir belias le orgulous, sir segwarides, sir griflet le fils de dieu, sir brandiles, sir aglovale--" "oh, you tear out my heartstrings." "--wait, i'm not done yet--sir tor, sir gauter, sir gillimer--" "the very best man in my subordinate nine. what a handy right-fielder he was!" "--sir reynold's three brothers, sir damus, sir priamus, sir kay the stranger--" "my peerless short-stop! i've seen him catch a daisy-cutter in his teeth. come, i can't stand this!" "--sir driant, sir lambegus, sir herminde, sir pertilope, sir perimones, and--whom do you think?" "rush! go on." "sir gaheris, and sir gareth--both!" "oh, incredible! their love for launcelot was indestructible." "well, it was an accident. they were simply onlookers; they were unarmed, and were merely there to witness the queen's punishment. sir launcelot smote down whoever came in the way of his blind fury, and he killed these without noticing who they were. here is an instantaneous photograph one of our boys got of the battle; it's for sale on every news-stand. there--the figures nearest the queen are sir launcelot with his sword up, and sir gareth gasping his latest breath. you can catch the agony in the queen's face through the curling smoke. it's a rattling battle-picture." "indeed, it is. we must take good care of it; its historical value is incalculable. go on." "well, the rest of the tale is just war, pure and simple. launcelot retreated to his town and castle of joyous gard, and gathered there a great following of knights. the king, with a great host, went there, and there was desperate fighting during several days, and, as a result, all the plain around was paved with corpses and cast-iron. then the church patched up a peace between arthur and launcelot and the queen and everybody--everybody but sir gawaine. he was bitter about the slaying of his brothers, gareth and gaheris, and would not be appeased. he notified launcelot to get him thence, and make swift preparation, and look to be soon attacked. so launcelot sailed to his duchy of guienne with his following, and gawaine soon followed with an army, and he beguiled arthur to go with him. arthur left the kingdom in sir mordred's hands until you should return--" "ah--a king's customary wisdom!" "yes. sir mordred set himself at once to work to make his kingship permanent. he was going to marry guenever, as a first move; but she fled and shut herself up in the tower of london. mordred attacked; the bishop of canterbury dropped down on him with the interdict. the king returned; mordred fought him at dover, at canterbury, and again at barham down. then there was talk of peace and a composition. terms, mordred to have cornwall and kent during arthur's life, and the whole kingdom afterward." "well, upon my word! my dream of a republic to _be_ a dream, and so remain." "yes. the two armies lay near salisbury. gawaine--gawaine's head is at dover castle, he fell in the fight there--gawaine appeared to arthur in a dream, at least his ghost did, and warned him to refrain from conflict for a month, let the delay cost what it might. but battle was precipitated by an accident. arthur had given order that if a sword was raised during the consultation over the proposed treaty with mordred, sound the trumpet and fall on! for he had no confidence in mordred. mordred had given a similar order to _his_ people. well, by and by an adder bit a knight's heel; the knight forgot all about the order, and made a slash at the adder with his sword. inside of half a minute those two prodigious hosts came together with a crash! they butchered away all day. then the king--however, we have started something fresh since you left--our paper has." "no? what is that?" "war correspondence!" "why, that's good." "yes, the paper was booming right along, for the interdict made no impression, got no grip, while the war lasted. i had war correspondents with both armies. i will finish that battle by reading you what one of the boys says: 'then the king looked about him, and then was he ware of all his host and of all his good knights were left no more on live but two knights, that was sir lucan de butlere, and his brother sir bedivere: and they were full sore wounded. jesu mercy, said the king, where are all my noble knights becomen? alas that ever i should see this doleful day. for now, said arthur, i am come to mine end. but would to god that i wist where were that traitor sir mordred, that hath caused all this mischief. then was king arthur ware where sir mordred leaned upon his sword among a great heap of dead men. now give me my spear, said arthur unto sir lucan, for yonder i have espied the traitor that all this woe hath wrought. sir, let him be, said sir lucan, for he is unhappy; and if ye pass this unhappy day, ye shall be right well revenged upon him. good lord, remember ye of your night's dream, and what the spirit of sir gawaine told you this night, yet god of his great goodness hath preserved you hitherto. therefore, for god's sake, my lord, leave off by this. for blessed be god ye have won the field: for here we be three on live, and with sir mordred is none on live. and if ye leave off now, this wicked day of destiny is past. tide me death, betide me life, saith the king, now i see him yonder alone, he shall never escape mine hands, for at a better avail shall i never have him. god speed you well, said sir bedivere. then the king gat his spear in both his hands, and ran toward sir mordred crying, traitor, now is thy death day come. and when sir mordred heard sir arthur, he ran until him with his sword drawn in his hand. and then king arthur smote sir mordred under the shield, with a foin of his spear throughout the body more than a fathom. and when sir mordred felt that he had his death's wound, he thrust himself, with the might that he had, up to the butt of king arthur's spear. and right so he smote his father arthur with his sword holden in both his hands, on the side of the head, that the sword pierced the helmet and the brain-pan, and therewithal sir mordred fell stark dead to the earth. and the noble arthur fell in a swoon to the earth, and there he swooned oft-times--'" "that is a good piece of war correspondence, clarence; you are a first-rate newspaper man. well--is the king all right? did he get well?" "poor soul, no. he is dead." i was utterly stunned; it had not seemed to me that any wound could be mortal to him. "and the queen, clarence?" "she is a nun, in almesbury." "what changes! and in such a short while. it is inconceivable. what next, i wonder?" "i can tell you what next." "well?" "stake our lives and stand by them!" "what do you mean by that?" "the church is master now. the interdict included you with mordred; it is not to be removed while you remain alive. the clans are gathering. the church has gathered all the knights that are left alive, and as soon as you are discovered we shall have business on our hands." "stuff! with our deadly scientific war-material; with our hosts of trained--" "save your breath--we haven't sixty faithful left!" "what are you saying? our schools, our colleges, our vast workshops, our--" "when those knights come, those establishments will empty themselves and go over to the enemy. did you think you had educated the superstition out of those people?" "i certainly did think it." "well, then, you may unthink it. they stood every strain easily --until the interdict. since then, they merely put on a bold outside--at heart they are quaking. make up your mind to it --when the armies come, the mask will fall." "it's hard news. we are lost. they will turn our own science against us." "no they won't." "why?" "because i and a handful of the faithful have blocked that game. i'll tell you what i've done, and what moved me to it. smart as you are, the church was smarter. it was the church that sent you cruising--through her servants, the doctors." "clarence!" "it is the truth. i know it. every officer of your ship was the church's picked servant, and so was every man of the crew." "oh, come!" "it is just as i tell you. i did not find out these things at once, but i found them out finally. did you send me verbal information, by the commander of the ship, to the effect that upon his return to you, with supplies, you were going to leave cadiz--" "cadiz! i haven't been at cadiz at all!" "--going to leave cadiz and cruise in distant seas indefinitely, for the health of your family? did you send me that word?" "of course not. i would have written, wouldn't i?" "naturally. i was troubled and suspicious. when the commander sailed again i managed to ship a spy with him. i have never heard of vessel or spy since. i gave myself two weeks to hear from you in. then i resolved to send a ship to cadiz. there was a reason why i didn't." "what was that?" "our navy had suddenly and mysteriously disappeared! also, as suddenly and as mysteriously, the railway and telegraph and telephone service ceased, the men all deserted, poles were cut down, the church laid a ban upon the electric light! i had to be up and doing--and straight off. your life was safe--nobody in these kingdoms but merlin would venture to touch such a magician as you without ten thousand men at his back--i had nothing to think of but how to put preparations in the best trim against your coming. i felt safe myself--nobody would be anxious to touch a pet of yours. so this is what i did. from our various works i selected all the men--boys i mean--whose faithfulness under whatsoever pressure i could swear to, and i called them together secretly and gave them their instructions. there are fifty-two of them; none younger than fourteen, and none above seventeen years old." "why did you select boys?" "because all the others were born in an atmosphere of superstition and reared in it. it is in their blood and bones. we imagined we had educated it out of them; they thought so, too; the interdict woke them up like a thunderclap! it revealed them to themselves, and it revealed them to me, too. with boys it was different. such as have been under our training from seven to ten years have had no acquaintance with the church's terrors, and it was among these that i found my fifty-two. as a next move, i paid a private visit to that old cave of merlin's--not the small one--the big one--" "yes, the one where we secretly established our first great electric plant when i was projecting a miracle." "just so. and as that miracle hadn't become necessary then, i thought it might be a good idea to utilize the plant now. i've provisioned the cave for a siege--" "a good idea, a first-rate idea." "i think so. i placed four of my boys there as a guard--inside, and out of sight. nobody was to be hurt--while outside; but any attempt to enter--well, we said just let anybody try it! then i went out into the hills and uncovered and cut the secret wires which connected your bedroom with the wires that go to the dynamite deposits under all our vast factories, mills, workshops, magazines, etc., and about midnight i and my boys turned out and connected that wire with the cave, and nobody but you and i suspects where the other end of it goes to. we laid it under ground, of course, and it was all finished in a couple of hours or so. we sha'n't have to leave our fortress now when we want to blow up our civilization." "it was the right move--and the natural one; military necessity, in the changed condition of things. well, what changes _have_ come! we expected to be besieged in the palace some time or other, but --however, go on." "next, we built a wire fence." "wire fence?" "yes. you dropped the hint of it yourself, two or three years ago." "oh, i remember--the time the church tried her strength against us the first time, and presently thought it wise to wait for a hopefuler season. well, how have you arranged the fence?" "i start twelve immensely strong wires--naked, not insulated --from a big dynamo in the cave--dynamo with no brushes except a positive and a negative one--" "yes, that's right." "the wires go out from the cave and fence in a circle of level ground a hundred yards in diameter; they make twelve independent fences, ten feet apart--that is to say, twelve circles within circles--and their ends come into the cave again." "right; go on." "the fences are fastened to heavy oaken posts only three feet apart, and these posts are sunk five feet in the ground." "that is good and strong." "yes. the wires have no ground-connection outside of the cave. they go out from the positive brush of the dynamo; there is a ground-connection through the negative brush; the other ends of the wire return to the cave, and each is grounded independently." "no, no, that won't do!" "why?" "it's too expensive--uses up force for nothing. you don't want any ground-connection except the one through the negative brush. the other end of every wire must be brought back into the cave and fastened independently, and _without_ any ground-connection. now, then, observe the economy of it. a cavalry charge hurls itself against the fence; you are using no power, you are spending no money, for there is only one ground-connection till those horses come against the wire; the moment they touch it they form a connection with the negative brush _through the ground_, and drop dead. don't you see?--you are using no energy until it is needed; your lightning is there, and ready, like the load in a gun; but it isn't costing you a cent till you touch it off. oh, yes, the single ground-connection--" "of course! i don't know how i overlooked that. it's not only cheaper, but it's more effectual than the other way, for if wires break or get tangled, no harm is done." "no, especially if we have a tell-tale in the cave and disconnect the broken wire. well, go on. the gatlings?" "yes--that's arranged. in the center of the inner circle, on a spacious platform six feet high, i've grouped a battery of thirteen gatling guns, and provided plenty of ammunition." "that's it. they command every approach, and when the church's knights arrive, there's going to be music. the brow of the precipice over the cave--" "i've got a wire fence there, and a gatling. they won't drop any rocks down on us." "well, and the glass-cylinder dynamite torpedoes?" "that's attended to. it's the prettiest garden that was ever planted. it's a belt forty feet wide, and goes around the outer fence--distance between it and the fence one hundred yards--kind of neutral ground that space is. there isn't a single square yard of that whole belt but is equipped with a torpedo. we laid them on the surface of the ground, and sprinkled a layer of sand over them. it's an innocent looking garden, but you let a man start in to hoe it once, and you'll see." "you tested the torpedoes?" "well, i was going to, but--" "but what? why, it's an immense oversight not to apply a--" "test? yes, i know; but they're all right; i laid a few in the public road beyond our lines and they've been tested." "oh, that alters the case. who did it?" "a church committee." "how kind!" "yes. they came to command us to make submission. you see they didn't really come to test the torpedoes; that was merely an incident." "did the committee make a report?" "yes, they made one. you could have heard it a mile." "unanimous?" "that was the nature of it. after that i put up some signs, for the protection of future committees, and we have had no intruders since." "clarence, you've done a world of work, and done it perfectly." "we had plenty of time for it; there wasn't any occasion for hurry." we sat silent awhile, thinking. then my mind was made up, and i said: "yes, everything is ready; everything is shipshape, no detail is wanting. i know what to do now." "so do i; sit down and wait." "no, _sir_! rise up and _strike_!" "do you mean it?" "yes, indeed! the _de_fensive isn't in my line, and the _of_fensive is. that is, when i hold a fair hand--two-thirds as good a hand as the enemy. oh, yes, we'll rise up and strike; that's our game." "a hundred to one you are right. when does the performance begin?" "_now!_ we'll proclaim the republic." "well, that _will_ precipitate things, sure enough!" "it will make them buzz, i tell you! england will be a hornets' nest before noon to-morrow, if the church's hand hasn't lost its cunning--and we know it hasn't. now you write and i'll dictate thus: "proclamation -- "be it known unto all. whereas the king having died and left no heir, it becomes my duty to continue the executive authority vested in me, until a government shall have been created and set in motion. the monarchy has lapsed, it no longer exists. by consequence, all political power has reverted to its original source, the people of the nation. with the monarchy, its several adjuncts died also; wherefore there is no longer a nobility, no longer a privileged class, no longer an established church; all men are become exactly equal; they are upon one common level, and religion is free. _a republic is hereby proclaimed_, as being the natural estate of a nation when other authority has ceased. it is the duty of the british people to meet together immediately, and by their votes elect representatives and deliver into their hands the government." i signed it "the boss," and dated it from merlin's cave. clarence said-"why, that tells where we are, and invites them to call right away." "that is the idea. we _strike_--by the proclamation--then it's their innings. now have the thing set up and printed and posted, right off; that is, give the order; then, if you've got a couple of bicycles handy at the foot of the hill, ho for merlin's cave!" "i shall be ready in ten minutes. what a cyclone there is going to be to-morrow when this piece of paper gets to work!... it's a pleasant old palace, this is; i wonder if we shall ever again --but never mind about that." chapter xliii the battle of the sand belt in merlin's cave-clarence and i and fifty-two fresh, bright, well-educated, clean-minded young british boys. at dawn i sent an order to the factories and to all our great works to stop operations and remove all life to a safe distance, as everything was going to be blown up by secret mines, "_and no telling at what moment--therefore, vacate at once_." these people knew me, and had confidence in my word. they would clear out without waiting to part their hair, and i could take my own time about dating the explosion. you couldn't hire one of them to go back during the century, if the explosion was still impending. we had a week of waiting. it was not dull for me, because i was writing all the time. during the first three days, i finished turning my old diary into this narrative form; it only required a chapter or so to bring it down to date. the rest of the week i took up in writing letters to my wife. it was always my habit to write to sandy every day, whenever we were separate, and now i kept up the habit for love of it, and of her, though i couldn't do anything with the letters, of course, after i had written them. but it put in the time, you see, and was almost like talking; it was almost as if i was saying, "sandy, if you and hello-central were here in the cave, instead of only your photographs, what good times we could have!" and then, you know, i could imagine the baby goo-gooing something out in reply, with its fists in its mouth and itself stretched across its mother's lap on its back, and she a-laughing and admiring and worshipping, and now and then tickling under the baby's chin to set it cackling, and then maybe throwing in a word of answer to me herself--and so on and so on --well, don't you know, i could sit there in the cave with my pen, and keep it up, that way, by the hour with them. why, it was almost like having us all together again. i had spies out every night, of course, to get news. every report made things look more and more impressive. the hosts were gathering, gathering; down all the roads and paths of england the knights were riding, and priests rode with them, to hearten these original crusaders, this being the church's war. all the nobilities, big and little, were on their way, and all the gentry. this was all as was expected. we should thin out this sort of folk to such a degree that the people would have nothing to do but just step to the front with their republic and-ah, what a donkey i was! toward the end of the week i began to get this large and disenchanting fact through my head: that the mass of the nation had swung their caps and shouted for the republic for about one day, and there an end! the church, the nobles, and the gentry then turned one grand, all-disapproving frown upon them and shriveled them into sheep! from that moment the sheep had begun to gather to the fold--that is to say, the camps--and offer their valueless lives and their valuable wool to the "righteous cause." why, even the very men who had lately been slaves were in the "righteous cause," and glorifying it, praying for it, sentimentally slabbering over it, just like all the other commoners. imagine such human muck as this; conceive of this folly! yes, it was now "death to the republic!" everywhere--not a dissenting voice. all england was marching against us! truly, this was more than i had bargained for. i watched my fifty-two boys narrowly; watched their faces, their walk, their unconscious attitudes: for all these are a language --a language given us purposely that it may betray us in times of emergency, when we have secrets which we want to keep. i knew that that thought would keep saying itself over and over again in their minds and hearts, _all england is marching against us!_ and ever more strenuously imploring attention with each repetition, ever more sharply realizing itself to their imaginations, until even in their sleep they would find no rest from it, but hear the vague and flitting creatures of the dreams say, _all england_ --all england!--_is marching against you_! i knew all this would happen; i knew that ultimately the pressure would become so great that it would compel utterance; therefore, i must be ready with an answer at that time--an answer well chosen and tranquilizing. i was right. the time came. they had to speak. poor lads, it was pitiful to see, they were so pale, so worn, so troubled. at first their spokesman could hardly find voice or words; but he presently got both. this is what he said--and he put it in the neat modern english taught him in my schools: "we have tried to forget what we are--english boys! we have tried to put reason before sentiment, duty before love; our minds approve, but our hearts reproach us. while apparently it was only the nobility, only the gentry, only the twenty-five or thirty thousand knights left alive out of the late wars, we were of one mind, and undisturbed by any troubling doubt; each and every one of these fifty-two lads who stand here before you, said, 'they have chosen--it is their affair.' but think!--the matter is altered--_all england is marching against us_! oh, sir, consider! --reflect!--these people are our people, they are bone of our bone, flesh of our flesh, we love them--do not ask us to destroy our nation!" well, it shows the value of looking ahead, and being ready for a thing when it happens. if i hadn't foreseen this thing and been fixed, that boy would have had me!--i couldn't have said a word. but i was fixed. i said: "my boys, your hearts are in the right place, you have thought the worthy thought, you have done the worthy thing. you are english boys, you will remain english boys, and you will keep that name unsmirched. give yourselves no further concern, let your minds be at peace. consider this: while all england is marching against us, who is in the van? who, by the commonest rules of war, will march in the front? answer me." "the mounted host of mailed knights." "true. they are thirty thousand strong. acres deep they will march. now, observe: none but _they_ will ever strike the sand-belt! then there will be an episode! immediately after, the civilian multitude in the rear will retire, to meet business engagements elsewhere. none but nobles and gentry are knights, and _none but these_ will remain to dance to our music after that episode. it is absolutely true that we shall have to fight nobody but these thirty thousand knights. now speak, and it shall be as you decide. shall we avoid the battle, retire from the field?" "no!!!" the shout was unanimous and hearty. "are you--are you--well, afraid of these thirty thousand knights?" that joke brought out a good laugh, the boys' troubles vanished away, and they went gaily to their posts. ah, they were a darling fifty-two! as pretty as girls, too. i was ready for the enemy now. let the approaching big day come along--it would find us on deck. the big day arrived on time. at dawn the sentry on watch in the corral came into the cave and reported a moving black mass under the horizon, and a faint sound which he thought to be military music. breakfast was just ready; we sat down and ate it. this over, i made the boys a little speech, and then sent out a detail to man the battery, with clarence in command of it. the sun rose presently and sent its unobstructed splendors over the land, and we saw a prodigious host moving slowly toward us, with the steady drift and aligned front of a wave of the sea. nearer and nearer it came, and more and more sublimely imposing became its aspect; yes, all england was there, apparently. soon we could see the innumerable banners fluttering, and then the sun struck the sea of armor and set it all aflash. yes, it was a fine sight; i hadn't ever seen anything to beat it. at last we could make out details. all the front ranks, no telling how many acres deep, were horsemen--plumed knights in armor. suddenly we heard the blare of trumpets; the slow walk burst into a gallop, and then--well, it was wonderful to see! down swept that vast horse-shoe wave--it approached the sand-belt--my breath stood still; nearer, nearer--the strip of green turf beyond the yellow belt grew narrow--narrower still--became a mere ribbon in front of the horses--then disappeared under their hoofs. great scott! why, the whole front of that host shot into the sky with a thunder-crash, and became a whirling tempest of rags and fragments; and along the ground lay a thick wall of smoke that hid what was left of the multitude from our sight. time for the second step in the plan of campaign! i touched a button, and shook the bones of england loose from her spine! in that explosion all our noble civilization-factories went up in the air and disappeared from the earth. it was a pity, but it was necessary. we could not afford to let the enemy turn our own weapons against us. now ensued one of the dullest quarter-hours i had ever endured. we waited in a silent solitude enclosed by our circles of wire, and by a circle of heavy smoke outside of these. we couldn't see over the wall of smoke, and we couldn't see through it. but at last it began to shred away lazily, and by the end of another quarter-hour the land was clear and our curiosity was enabled to satisfy itself. no living creature was in sight! we now perceived that additions had been made to our defenses. the dynamite had dug a ditch more than a hundred feet wide, all around us, and cast up an embankment some twenty-five feet high on both borders of it. as to destruction of life, it was amazing. moreover, it was beyond estimate. of course, we could not _count_ the dead, because they did not exist as individuals, but merely as homogeneous protoplasm, with alloys of iron and buttons. no life was in sight, but necessarily there must have been some wounded in the rear ranks, who were carried off the field under cover of the wall of smoke; there would be sickness among the others--there always is, after an episode like that. but there would be no reinforcements; this was the last stand of the chivalry of england; it was all that was left of the order, after the recent annihilating wars. so i felt quite safe in believing that the utmost force that could for the future be brought against us would be but small; that is, of knights. i therefore issued a congratulatory proclamation to my army in these words: soldiers, champions of human liberty and equality: your general congratulates you! in the pride of his strength and the vanity of his renown, an arrogant enemy came against you. you were ready. the conflict was brief; on your side, glorious. this mighty victory, having been achieved utterly without loss, stands without example in history. so long as the planets shall continue to move in their orbits, the battle of the sand-belt will not perish out of the memories of men. the boss. i read it well, and the applause i got was very gratifying to me. i then wound up with these remarks: "the war with the english nation, as a nation, is at an end. the nation has retired from the field and the war. before it can be persuaded to return, war will have ceased. this campaign is the only one that is going to be fought. it will be brief --the briefest in history. also the most destructive to life, considered from the standpoint of proportion of casualties to numbers engaged. we are done with the nation; henceforth we deal only with the knights. english knights can be killed, but they cannot be conquered. we know what is before us. while one of these men remains alive, our task is not finished, the war is not ended. we will kill them all." [loud and long continued applause.] i picketed the great embankments thrown up around our lines by the dynamite explosion--merely a lookout of a couple of boys to announce the enemy when he should appear again. next, i sent an engineer and forty men to a point just beyond our lines on the south, to turn a mountain brook that was there, and bring it within our lines and under our command, arranging it in such a way that i could make instant use of it in an emergency. the forty men were divided into two shifts of twenty each, and were to relieve each other every two hours. in ten hours the work was accomplished. it was nightfall now, and i withdrew my pickets. the one who had had the northern outlook reported a camp in sight, but visible with the glass only. he also reported that a few knights had been feeling their way toward us, and had driven some cattle across our lines, but that the knights themselves had not come very near. that was what i had been expecting. they were feeling us, you see; they wanted to know if we were going to play that red terror on them again. they would grow bolder in the night, perhaps. i believed i knew what project they would attempt, because it was plainly the thing i would attempt myself if i were in their places and as ignorant as they were. i mentioned it to clarence. "i think you are right," said he; "it is the obvious thing for them to try." "well, then," i said, "if they do it they are doomed." "certainly." "they won't have the slightest show in the world." "of course they won't." "it's dreadful, clarence. it seems an awful pity." the thing disturbed me so that i couldn't get any peace of mind for thinking of it and worrying over it. so, at last, to quiet my conscience, i framed this message to the knights: to the honorable the commander of the insurgent chivalry of england: you fight in vain. we know your strength--if one may call it by that name. we know that at the utmost you cannot bring against us above five and twenty thousand knights. therefore, you have no chance--none whatever. reflect: we are well equipped, well fortified, we number 54. fifty-four what? men? no, minds--the capablest in the world; a force against which mere animal might may no more hope to prevail than may the idle waves of the sea hope to prevail against the granite barriers of england. be advised. we offer you your lives; for the sake of your families, do not reject the gift. we offer you this chance, and it is the last: throw down your arms; surrender unconditionally to the republic, and all will be forgiven. (signed) the boss. i read it to clarence, and said i proposed to send it by a flag of truce. he laughed the sarcastic laugh he was born with, and said: "somehow it seems impossible for you to ever fully realize what these nobilities are. now let us save a little time and trouble. consider me the commander of the knights yonder. now, then, you are the flag of truce; approach and deliver me your message, and i will give you your answer." i humored the idea. i came forward under an imaginary guard of the enemy's soldiers, produced my paper, and read it through. for answer, clarence struck the paper out of my hand, pursed up a scornful lip and said with lofty disdain: "dismember me this animal, and return him in a basket to the base-born knave who sent him; other answer have i none!" how empty is theory in presence of fact! and this was just fact, and nothing else. it was the thing that would have happened, there was no getting around that. i tore up the paper and granted my mistimed sentimentalities a permanent rest. then, to business. i tested the electric signals from the gatling platform to the cave, and made sure that they were all right; i tested and retested those which commanded the fences--these were signals whereby i could break and renew the electric current in each fence independently of the others at will. i placed the brook-connection under the guard and authority of three of my best boys, who would alternate in two-hour watches all night and promptly obey my signal, if i should have occasion to give it --three revolver-shots in quick succession. sentry-duty was discarded for the night, and the corral left empty of life; i ordered that quiet be maintained in the cave, and the electric lights turned down to a glimmer. as soon as it was good and dark, i shut off the current from all the fences, and then groped my way out to the embankment bordering our side of the great dynamite ditch. i crept to the top of it and lay there on the slant of the muck to watch. but it was too dark to see anything. as for sounds, there were none. the stillness was deathlike. true, there were the usual night-sounds of the country--the whir of night-birds, the buzzing of insects, the barking of distant dogs, the mellow lowing of far-off kine --but these didn't seem to break the stillness, they only intensified it, and added a grewsome melancholy to it into the bargain. i presently gave up looking, the night shut down so black, but i kept my ears strained to catch the least suspicious sound, for i judged i had only to wait, and i shouldn't be disappointed. however, i had to wait a long time. at last i caught what you may call in distinct glimpses of sound dulled metallic sound. i pricked up my ears, then, and held my breath, for this was the sort of thing i had been waiting for. this sound thickened, and approached--from toward the north. presently, i heard it at my own level--the ridge-top of the opposite embankment, a hundred feet or more away. then i seemed to see a row of black dots appear along that ridge--human heads? i couldn't tell; it mightn't be anything at all; you can't depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus. however, the question was soon settled. i heard that metallic noise descending into the great ditch. it augmented fast, it spread all along, and it unmistakably furnished me this fact: an armed host was taking up its quarters in the ditch. yes, these people were arranging a little surprise party for us. we could expect entertainment about dawn, possibly earlier. i groped my way back to the corral now; i had seen enough. i went to the platform and signaled to turn the current on to the two inner fences. then i went into the cave, and found everything satisfactory there--nobody awake but the working-watch. i woke clarence and told him the great ditch was filling up with men, and that i believed all the knights were coming for us in a body. it was my notion that as soon as dawn approached we could expect the ditch's ambuscaded thousands to swarm up over the embankment and make an assault, and be followed immediately by the rest of their army. clarence said: "they will be wanting to send a scout or two in the dark to make preliminary observations. why not take the lightning off the outer fences, and give them a chance?" "i've already done it, clarence. did you ever know me to be inhospitable?" "no, you are a good heart. i want to go and--" "be a reception committee? i will go, too." we crossed the corral and lay down together between the two inside fences. even the dim light of the cave had disordered our eyesight somewhat, but the focus straightway began to regulate itself and soon it was adjusted for present circumstances. we had had to feel our way before, but we could make out to see the fence posts now. we started a whispered conversation, but suddenly clarence broke off and said: "what is that?" "what is what?" "that thing yonder." "what thing--where?" "there beyond you a little piece--dark something--a dull shape of some kind--against the second fence." i gazed and he gazed. i said: "could it be a man, clarence?" "no, i think not. if you notice, it looks a lit--why, it _is_ a man!--leaning on the fence." "i certainly believe it is; let us go and see." we crept along on our hands and knees until we were pretty close, and then looked up. yes, it was a man--a dim great figure in armor, standing erect, with both hands on the upper wire--and, of course, there was a smell of burning flesh. poor fellow, dead as a door-nail, and never knew what hurt him. he stood there like a statue--no motion about him, except that his plumes swished about a little in the night wind. we rose up and looked in through the bars of his visor, but couldn't make out whether we knew him or not--features too dim and shadowed. we heard muffled sounds approaching, and we sank down to the ground where we were. we made out another knight vaguely; he was coming very stealthily, and feeling his way. he was near enough now for us to see him put out a hand, find an upper wire, then bend and step under it and over the lower one. now he arrived at the first knight--and started slightly when he discovered him. he stood a moment--no doubt wondering why the other one didn't move on; then he said, in a low voice, "why dreamest thou here, good sir mar--" then he laid his hand on the corpse's shoulder--and just uttered a little soft moan and sunk down dead. killed by a dead man, you see--killed by a dead friend, in fact. there was something awful about it. these early birds came scattering along after each other, about one every five minutes in our vicinity, during half an hour. they brought no armor of offense but their swords; as a rule, they carried the sword ready in the hand, and put it forward and found the wires with it. we would now and then see a blue spark when the knight that caused it was so far away as to be invisible to us; but we knew what had happened, all the same; poor fellow, he had touched a charged wire with his sword and been elected. we had brief intervals of grim stillness, interrupted with piteous regularity by the clash made by the falling of an iron-clad; and this sort of thing was going on, right along, and was very creepy there in the dark and lonesomeness. we concluded to make a tour between the inner fences. we elected to walk upright, for convenience's sake; we argued that if discerned, we should be taken for friends rather than enemies, and in any case we should be out of reach of swords, and these gentry did not seem to have any spears along. well, it was a curious trip. everywhere dead men were lying outside the second fence--not plainly visible, but still visible; and we counted fifteen of those pathetic statues--dead knights standing with their hands on the upper wire. one thing seemed to be sufficiently demonstrated: our current was so tremendous that it killed before the victim could cry out. pretty soon we detected a muffled and heavy sound, and next moment we guessed what it was. it was a surprise in force coming! whispered clarence to go and wake the army, and notify it to wait in silence in the cave for further orders. he was soon back, and we stood by the inner fence and watched the silent lightning do its awful work upon that swarming host. one could make out but little of detail; but he could note that a black mass was piling itself up beyond the second fence. that swelling bulk was dead men! our camp was enclosed with a solid wall of the dead--a bulwark, a breastwork, of corpses, you may say. one terrible thing about this thing was the absence of human voices; there were no cheers, no war cries; being intent upon a surprise, these men moved as noiselessly as they could; and always when the front rank was near enough to their goal to make it proper for them to begin to get a shout ready, of course they struck the fatal line and went down without testifying. i sent a current through the third fence now; and almost immediately through the fourth and fifth, so quickly were the gaps filled up. i believed the time was come now for my climax; i believed that that whole army was in our trap. anyway, it was high time to find out. so i touched a button and set fifty electric suns aflame on the top of our precipice. land, what a sight! we were enclosed in three walls of dead men! all the other fences were pretty nearly filled with the living, who were stealthily working their way forward through the wires. the sudden glare paralyzed this host, petrified them, you may say, with astonishment; there was just one instant for me to utilize their immobility in, and i didn't lose the chance. you see, in another instant they would have recovered their faculties, then they'd have burst into a cheer and made a rush, and my wires would have gone down before it; but that lost instant lost them their opportunity forever; while even that slight fragment of time was still unspent, i shot the current through all the fences and struck the whole host dead in their tracks! _there_ was a groan you could _hear_! it voiced the death-pang of eleven thousand men. it swelled out on the night with awful pathos. a glance showed that the rest of the enemy--perhaps ten thousand strong--were between us and the encircling ditch, and pressing forward to the assault. consequently we had them _all!_ and had them past help. time for the last act of the tragedy. i fired the three appointed revolver shots--which meant: "turn on the water!" there was a sudden rush and roar, and in a minute the mountain brook was raging through the big ditch and creating a river a hundred feet wide and twenty-five deep. "stand to your guns, men! open fire!" the thirteen gatlings began to vomit death into the fated ten thousand. they halted, they stood their ground a moment against that withering deluge of fire, then they broke, faced about and swept toward the ditch like chaff before a gale. a full fourth part of their force never reached the top of the lofty embankment; the three-fourths reached it and plunged over--to death by drowning. within ten short minutes after we had opened fire, armed resistance was totally annihilated, the campaign was ended, we fifty-four were masters of england. twenty-five thousand men lay dead around us. but how treacherous is fortune! in a little while--say an hour --happened a thing, by my own fault, which--but i have no heart to write that. let the record end here. chapter xliv a postscript by clarence i, clarence, must write it for him. he proposed that we two go out and see if any help could be accorded the wounded. i was strenuous against the project. i said that if there were many, we could do but little for them; and it would not be wise for us to trust ourselves among them, anyway. but he could seldom be turned from a purpose once formed; so we shut off the electric current from the fences, took an escort along, climbed over the enclosing ramparts of dead knights, and moved out upon the field. the first wounded mall who appealed for help was sitting with his back against a dead comrade. when the boss bent over him and spoke to him, the man recognized him and stabbed him. that knight was sir meliagraunce, as i found out by tearing off his helmet. he will not ask for help any more. we carried the boss to the cave and gave his wound, which was not very serious, the best care we could. in this service we had the help of merlin, though we did not know it. he was disguised as a woman, and appeared to be a simple old peasant goodwife. in this disguise, with brown-stained face and smooth shaven, he had appeared a few days after the boss was hurt and offered to cook for us, saying her people had gone off to join certain new camps which the enemy were forming, and that she was starving. the boss had been getting along very well, and had amused himself with finishing up his record. we were glad to have this woman, for we were short handed. we were in a trap, you see--a trap of our own making. if we stayed where we were, our dead would kill us; if we moved out of our defenses, we should no longer be invincible. we had conquered; in turn we were conquered. the boss recognized this; we all recognized it. if we could go to one of those new camps and patch up some kind of terms with the enemy--yes, but the boss could not go, and neither could i, for i was among the first that were made sick by the poisonous air bred by those dead thousands. others were taken down, and still others. to-morrow-_to-morrow._ it is here. and with it the end. about midnight i awoke, and saw that hag making curious passes in the air about the boss's head and face, and wondered what it meant. everybody but the dynamo-watch lay steeped in sleep; there was no sound. the woman ceased from her mysterious foolery, and started tip-toeing toward the door. i called out: "stop! what have you been doing?" she halted, and said with an accent of malicious satisfaction: "ye were conquerors; ye are conquered! these others are perishing --you also. ye shall all die in this place--every one--except _him_. he sleepeth now--and shall sleep thirteen centuries. i am merlin!" then such a delirium of silly laughter overtook him that he reeled about like a drunken man, and presently fetched up against one of our wires. his mouth is spread open yet; apparently he is still laughing. i suppose the face will retain that petrified laugh until the corpse turns to dust. the boss has never stirred--sleeps like a stone. if he does not wake to-day we shall understand what kind of a sleep it is, and his body will then be borne to a place in one of the remote recesses of the cave where none will ever find it to desecrate it. as for the rest of us--well, it is agreed that if any one of us ever escapes alive from this place, he will write the fact here, and loyally hide this manuscript with the boss, our dear good chief, whose property it is, be he alive or dead. the end of the manuscript final p.s. by m.t. the dawn was come when i laid the manuscript aside. the rain had almost ceased, the world was gray and sad, the exhausted storm was sighing and sobbing itself to rest. i went to the stranger's room, and listened at his door, which was slightly ajar. i could hear his voice, and so i knocked. there was no answer, but i still heard the voice. i peeped in. the man lay on his back in bed, talking brokenly but with spirit, and punctuating with his arms, which he thrashed about, restlessly, as sick people do in delirium. i slipped in softly and bent over him. his mutterings and ejaculations went on. i spoke--merely a word, to call his attention. his glassy eyes and his ashy face were alight in an instant with pleasure, gratitude, gladness, welcome: "oh, sandy, you are come at last--how i have longed for you! sit by me--do not leave me--never leave me again, sandy, never again. where is your hand?--give it me, dear, let me hold it--there --now all is well, all is peace, and i am happy again--_we_ are happy again, isn't it so, sandy? you are so dim, so vague, you are but a mist, a cloud, but you are _here_, and that is blessedness sufficient; and i have your hand; don't take it away--it is for only a little while, i shall not require it long.... was that the child?... hello-central!... she doesn't answer. asleep, perhaps? bring her when she wakes, and let me touch her hands, her face, her hair, and tell her good-bye.... sandy! yes, you are there. i lost myself a moment, and i thought you were gone.... have i been sick long? it must be so; it seems months to me. and such dreams! such strange and awful dreams, sandy! dreams that were as real as reality--delirium, of course, but _so_ real! why, i thought the king was dead, i thought you were in gaul and couldn't get home, i thought there was a revolution; in the fantastic frenzy of these dreams, i thought that clarence and i and a handful of my cadets fought and exterminated the whole chivalry of england! but even that was not the strangest. i seemed to be a creature out of a remote unborn age, centuries hence, and even _that_ was as real as the rest! yes, i seemed to have flown back out of that age into this of ours, and then forward to it again, and was set down, a stranger and forlorn in that strange england, with an abyss of thirteen centuries yawning between me and you! between me and my home and my friends! between me and all that is dear to me, all that could make life worth the living! it was awful --awfuler than you can ever imagine, sandy. ah, watch by me, sandy --stay by me every moment--_don't_ let me go out of my mind again; death is nothing, let it come, but not with those dreams, not with the torture of those hideous dreams--i cannot endure _that_ again.... sandy?..." he lay muttering incoherently some little time; then for a time he lay silent, and apparently sinking away toward death. presently his fingers began to pick busily at the coverlet, and by that sign i knew that his end was at hand with the first suggestion of the death-rattle in his throat he started up slightly, and seemed to listen: then he said: "a bugle?... it is the king! the drawbridge, there! man the battlements!--turn out the--" he was getting up his last "effect"; but he never finished it. a connecticut yankee in king arthur's court by mark twain (samuel l. clemens) part 8. chapter xxxvi an encounter in the dark london--to a slave--was a sufficiently interesting place. it was merely a great big village; and mainly mud and thatch. the streets were muddy, crooked, unpaved. the populace was an ever flocking and drifting swarm of rags, and splendors, of nodding plumes and shining armor. the king had a palace there; he saw the outside of it. it made him sigh; yes, and swear a little, in a poor juvenile sixth century way. we saw knights and grandees whom we knew, but they didn't know us in our rags and dirt and raw welts and bruises, and wouldn't have recognized us if we had hailed them, nor stopped to answer, either, it being unlawful to speak with slaves on a chain. sandy passed within ten yards of me on a mule--hunting for me, i imagined. but the thing which clean broke my heart was something which happened in front of our old barrack in a square, while we were enduring the spectacle of a man being boiled to death in oil for counterfeiting pennies. it was the sight of a newsboy--and i couldn't get at him! still, i had one comfort--here was proof that clarence was still alive and banging away. i meant to be with him before long; the thought was full of cheer. i had one little glimpse of another thing, one day, which gave me a great uplift. it was a wire stretching from housetop to housetop. telegraph or telephone, sure. i did very much wish i had a little piece of it. it was just what i needed, in order to carry out my project of escape. my idea was to get loose some night, along with the king, then gag and bind our master, change clothes with him, batter him into the aspect of a stranger, hitch him to the slave-chain, assume possession of the property, march to camelot, and-but you get my idea; you see what a stunning dramatic surprise i would wind up with at the palace. it was all feasible, if i could only get hold of a slender piece of iron which i could shape into a lock-pick. i could then undo the lumbering padlocks with which our chains were fastened, whenever i might choose. but i never had any luck; no such thing ever happened to fall in my way. however, my chance came at last. a gentleman who had come twice before to dicker for me, without result, or indeed any approach to a result, came again. i was far from expecting ever to belong to him, for the price asked for me from the time i was first enslaved was exorbitant, and always provoked either anger or derision, yet my master stuck stubbornly to it--twenty-two dollars. he wouldn't bate a cent. the king was greatly admired, because of his grand physique, but his kingly style was against him, and he wasn't salable; nobody wanted that kind of a slave. i considered myself safe from parting from him because of my extravagant price. no, i was not expecting to ever belong to this gentleman whom i have spoken of, but he had something which i expected would belong to me eventually, if he would but visit us often enough. it was a steel thing with a long pin to it, with which his long cloth outside garment was fastened together in front. there were three of them. he had disappointed me twice, because he did not come quite close enough to me to make my project entirely safe; but this time i succeeded; i captured the lower clasp of the three, and when he missed it he thought he had lost it on the way. i had a chance to be glad about a minute, then straightway a chance to be sad again. for when the purchase was about to fail, as usual, the master suddenly spoke up and said what would be worded thus --in modern english: "i'll tell you what i'll do. i'm tired supporting these two for no good. give me twenty-two dollars for this one, and i'll throw the other one in." the king couldn't get his breath, he was in such a fury. he began to choke and gag, and meantime the master and the gentleman moved away discussing. "an ye will keep the offer open--" "'tis open till the morrow at this hour." "then i will answer you at that time," said the gentleman, and disappeared, the master following him. i had a time of it to cool the king down, but i managed it. i whispered in his ear, to this effect: "your grace _will_ go for nothing, but after another fashion. and so shall i. to-night we shall both be free." "ah! how is that?" "with this thing which i have stolen, i will unlock these locks and cast off these chains to-night. when he comes about nine-thirty to inspect us for the night, we will seize him, gag him, batter him, and early in the morning we will march out of this town, proprietors of this caravan of slaves." that was as far as i went, but the king was charmed and satisfied. that evening we waited patiently for our fellow-slaves to get to sleep and signify it by the usual sign, for you must not take many chances on those poor fellows if you can avoid it. it is best to keep your own secrets. no doubt they fidgeted only about as usual, but it didn't seem so to me. it seemed to me that they were going to be forever getting down to their regular snoring. as the time dragged on i got nervously afraid we shouldn't have enough of it left for our needs; so i made several premature attempts, and merely delayed things by it; for i couldn't seem to touch a padlock, there in the dark, without starting a rattle out of it which interrupted somebody's sleep and made him turn over and wake some more of the gang. but finally i did get my last iron off, and was a free man once more. i took a good breath of relief, and reached for the king's irons. too late! in comes the master, with a light in one hand and his heavy walking-staff in the other. i snuggled close among the wallow of snorers, to conceal as nearly as possible that i was naked of irons; and i kept a sharp lookout and prepared to spring for my man the moment he should bend over me. but he didn't approach. he stopped, gazed absently toward our dusky mass a minute, evidently thinking about something else; then set down his light, moved musingly toward the door, and before a body could imagine what he was going to do, he was out of the door and had closed it behind him. "quick!" said the king. "fetch him back!" of course, it was the thing to do, and i was up and out in a moment. but, dear me, there were no lamps in those days, and it was a dark night. but i glimpsed a dim figure a few steps away. i darted for it, threw myself upon it, and then there was a state of things and lively! we fought and scuffled and struggled, and drew a crowd in no time. they took an immense interest in the fight and encouraged us all they could, and, in fact, couldn't have been pleasanter or more cordial if it had been their own fight. then a tremendous row broke out behind us, and as much as half of our audience left us, with a rush, to invest some sympathy in that. lanterns began to swing in all directions; it was the watch gathering from far and near. presently a halberd fell across my back, as a reminder, and i knew what it meant. i was in custody. so was my adversary. we were marched off toward prison, one on each side of the watchman. here was disaster, here was a fine scheme gone to sudden destruction! i tried to imagine what would happen when the master should discover that it was i who had been fighting him; and what would happen if they jailed us together in the general apartment for brawlers and petty law-breakers, as was the custom; and what might-just then my antagonist turned his face around in my direction, the freckled light from the watchman's tin lantern fell on it, and, by george, he was the wrong man! chapter xxxvii an awful predicament sleep? it was impossible. it would naturally have been impossible in that noisome cavern of a jail, with its mangy crowd of drunken, quarrelsome, and song-singing rapscallions. but the thing that made sleep all the more a thing not to be dreamed of, was my racking impatience to get out of this place and find out the whole size of what might have happened yonder in the slave-quarters in consequence of that intolerable miscarriage of mine. it was a long night, but the morning got around at last. i made a full and frank explanation to the court. i said i was a slave, the property of the great earl grip, who had arrived just after dark at the tabard inn in the village on the other side of the water, and had stopped there over night, by compulsion, he being taken deadly sick with a strange and sudden disorder. i had been ordered to cross to the city in all haste and bring the best physician; i was doing my best; naturally i was running with all my might; the night was dark, i ran against this common person here, who seized me by the throat and began to pummel me, although i told him my errand, and implored him, for the sake of the great earl my master's mortal peril-the common person interrupted and said it was a lie; and was going to explain how i rushed upon him and attacked him without a word-"silence, sirrah!" from the court. "take him hence and give him a few stripes whereby to teach him how to treat the servant of a nobleman after a different fashion another time. go!" then the court begged my pardon, and hoped i would not fail to tell his lordship it was in no wise the court's fault that this high-handed thing had happened. i said i would make it all right, and so took my leave. took it just in time, too; he was starting to ask me why i didn't fetch out these facts the moment i was arrested. i said i would if i had thought of it--which was true --but that i was so battered by that man that all my wit was knocked out of me--and so forth and so on, and got myself away, still mumbling. i didn't wait for breakfast. no grass grew under my feet. i was soon at the slave quarters. empty--everybody gone! that is, everybody except one body--the slave-master's. it lay there all battered to pulp; and all about were the evidences of a terrific fight. there was a rude board coffin on a cart at the door, and workmen, assisted by the police, were thinning a road through the gaping crowd in order that they might bring it in. i picked out a man humble enough in life to condescend to talk with one so shabby as i, and got his account of the matter. "there were sixteen slaves here. they rose against their master in the night, and thou seest how it ended." "yes. how did it begin?" "there was no witness but the slaves. they said the slave that was most valuable got free of his bonds and escaped in some strange way--by magic arts 'twas thought, by reason that he had no key, and the locks were neither broke nor in any wise injured. when the master discovered his loss, he was mad with despair, and threw himself upon his people with his heavy stick, who resisted and brake his back and in other and divers ways did give him hurts that brought him swiftly to his end." "this is dreadful. it will go hard with the slaves, no doubt, upon the trial." "marry, the trial is over." "over!" "would they be a week, think you--and the matter so simple? they were not the half of a quarter of an hour at it." "why, i don't see how they could determine which were the guilty ones in so short a time." "_which_ ones? indeed, they considered not particulars like to that. they condemned them in a body. wit ye not the law?--which men say the romans left behind them here when they went--that if one slave killeth his master all the slaves of that man must die for it." "true. i had forgotten. and when will these die?" "belike within a four and twenty hours; albeit some say they will wait a pair of days more, if peradventure they may find the missing one meantime." the missing one! it made me feel uncomfortable. "is it likely they will find him?" "before the day is spent--yes. they seek him everywhere. they stand at the gates of the town, with certain of the slaves who will discover him to them if he cometh, and none can pass out but he will be first examined." "might one see the place where the rest are confined?" "the outside of it--yes. the inside of it--but ye will not want to see that." i took the address of that prison for future reference and then sauntered off. at the first second-hand clothing shop i came to, up a back street, i got a rough rig suitable for a common seaman who might be going on a cold voyage, and bound up my face with a liberal bandage, saying i had a toothache. this concealed my worst bruises. it was a transformation. i no longer resembled my former self. then i struck out for that wire, found it and followed it to its den. it was a little room over a butcher's shop--which meant that business wasn't very brisk in the telegraphic line. the young chap in charge was drowsing at his table. i locked the door and put the vast key in my bosom. this alarmed the young fellow, and he was going to make a noise; but i said: "save your wind; if you open your mouth you are dead, sure. tackle your instrument. lively, now! call camelot." "this doth amaze me! how should such as you know aught of such matters as--" "call camelot! i am a desperate man. call camelot, or get away from the instrument and i will do it myself." "what--you?" "yes--certainly. stop gabbling. call the palace." he made the call. "now, then, call clarence." "clarence _who_?" "never mind clarence who. say you want clarence; you'll get an answer." he did so. we waited five nerve-straining minutes--ten minutes --how long it did seem!--and then came a click that was as familiar to me as a human voice; for clarence had been my own pupil. "now, my lad, vacate! they would have known _my_ touch, maybe, and so your call was surest; but i'm all right now." he vacated the place and cocked his ear to listen--but it didn't win. i used a cipher. i didn't waste any time in sociabilities with clarence, but squared away for business, straight-off--thus: "the king is here and in danger. we were captured and brought here as slaves. we should not be able to prove our identity --and the fact is, i am not in a position to try. send a telegram for the palace here which will carry conviction with it." his answer came straight back: "they don't know anything about the telegraph; they haven't had any experience yet, the line to london is so new. better not venture that. they might hang you. think up something else." might hang us! little he knew how closely he was crowding the facts. i couldn't think up anything for the moment. then an idea struck me, and i started it along: "send five hundred picked knights with launcelot in the lead; and send them on the jump. let them enter by the southwest gate, and look out for the man with a white cloth around his right arm." the answer was prompt: "they shall start in half an hour." "all right, clarence; now tell this lad here that i'm a friend of yours and a dead-head; and that he must be discreet and say nothing about this visit of mine." the instrument began to talk to the youth and i hurried away. i fell to ciphering. in half an hour it would be nine o'clock. knights and horses in heavy armor couldn't travel very fast. these would make the best time they could, and now that the ground was in good condition, and no snow or mud, they would probably make a seven-mile gait; they would have to change horses a couple of times; they would arrive about six, or a little after; it would still be plenty light enough; they would see the white cloth which i should tie around my right arm, and i would take command. we would surround that prison and have the king out in no time. it would be showy and picturesque enough, all things considered, though i would have preferred noonday, on account of the more theatrical aspect the thing would have. now, then, in order to increase the strings to my bow, i thought i would look up some of those people whom i had formerly recognized, and make myself known. that would help us out of our scrape, without the knights. but i must proceed cautiously, for it was a risky business. i must get into sumptuous raiment, and it wouldn't do to run and jump into it. no, i must work up to it by degrees, buying suit after suit of clothes, in shops wide apart, and getting a little finer article with each change, until i should finally reach silk and velvet, and be ready for my project. so i started. but the scheme fell through like scat! the first corner i turned, i came plump upon one of our slaves, snooping around with a watchman. i coughed at the moment, and he gave me a sudden look that bit right into my marrow. i judge he thought he had heard that cough before. i turned immediately into a shop and worked along down the counter, pricing things and watching out of the corner of my eye. those people had stopped, and were talking together and looking in at the door. i made up my mind to get out the back way, if there was a back way, and i asked the shopwoman if i could step out there and look for the escaped slave, who was believed to be in hiding back there somewhere, and said i was an officer in disguise, and my pard was yonder at the door with one of the murderers in charge, and would she be good enough to step there and tell him he needn't wait, but had better go at once to the further end of the back alley and be ready to head him off when i rousted him out. she was blazing with eagerness to see one of those already celebrated murderers, and she started on the errand at once. i slipped out the back way, locked the door behind me, put the key in my pocket and started off, chuckling to myself and comfortable. well, i had gone and spoiled it again, made another mistake. a double one, in fact. there were plenty of ways to get rid of that officer by some simple and plausible device, but no, i must pick out a picturesque one; it is the crying defect of my character. and then, i had ordered my procedure upon what the officer, being human, would _naturally_ do; whereas when you are least expecting it, a man will now and then go and do the very thing which it's _not_ natural for him to do. the natural thing for the officer to do, in this case, was to follow straight on my heels; he would find a stout oaken door, securely locked, between him and me; before he could break it down, i should be far away and engaged in slipping into a succession of baffling disguises which would soon get me into a sort of raiment which was a surer protection from meddling law-dogs in britain than any amount of mere innocence and purity of character. but instead of doing the natural thing, the officer took me at my word, and followed my instructions. and so, as i came trotting out of that cul de sac, full of satisfaction with my own cleverness, he turned the corner and i walked right into his handcuffs. if i had known it was a cul de sac--however, there isn't any excusing a blunder like that, let it go. charge it up to profit and loss. of course, i was indignant, and swore i had just come ashore from a long voyage, and all that sort of thing--just to see, you know, if it would deceive that slave. but it didn't. he knew me. then i reproached him for betraying me. he was more surprised than hurt. he stretched his eyes wide, and said: "what, wouldst have me let thee, of all men, escape and not hang with us, when thou'rt the very _cause_ of our hanging? go to!" "go to" was their way of saying "i should smile!" or "i like that!" queer talkers, those people. well, there was a sort of bastard justice in his view of the case, and so i dropped the matter. when you can't cure a disaster by argument, what is the use to argue? it isn't my way. so i only said: "you're not going to be hanged. none of us are." both men laughed, and the slave said: "ye have not ranked as a fool--before. you might better keep your reputation, seeing the strain would not be for long." "it will stand it, i reckon. before to-morrow we shall be out of prison, and free to go where we will, besides." the witty officer lifted at his left ear with his thumb, made a rasping noise in his throat, and said: "out of prison--yes--ye say true. and free likewise to go where ye will, so ye wander not out of his grace the devil's sultry realm." i kept my temper, and said, indifferently: "now i suppose you really think we are going to hang within a day or two." "i thought it not many minutes ago, for so the thing was decided and proclaimed." "ah, then you've changed your mind, is that it?" "even that. i only _thought_, then; i _know_, now." i felt sarcastical, so i said: "oh, sapient servant of the law, condescend to tell us, then, what you _know_." "that ye will all be hanged _to-day_, at mid-afternoon! oho! that shot hit home! lean upon me." the fact is i did need to lean upon somebody. my knights couldn't arrive in time. they would be as much as three hours too late. nothing in the world could save the king of england; nor me, which was more important. more important, not merely to me, but to the nation--the only nation on earth standing ready to blossom into civilization. i was sick. i said no more, there wasn't anything to say. i knew what the man meant; that if the missing slave was found, the postponement would be revoked, the execution take place to-day. well, the missing slave was found. chapter xxxviii sir launcelot and knights to the rescue nearing four in the afternoon. the scene was just outside the walls of london. a cool, comfortable, superb day, with a brilliant sun; the kind of day to make one want to live, not die. the multitude was prodigious and far-reaching; and yet we fifteen poor devils hadn't a friend in it. there was something painful in that thought, look at it how you might. there we sat, on our tall scaffold, the butt of the hate and mockery of all those enemies. we were being made a holiday spectacle. they had built a sort of grand stand for the nobility and gentry, and these were there in full force, with their ladies. we recognized a good many of them. the crowd got a brief and unexpected dash of diversion out of the king. the moment we were freed of our bonds he sprang up, in his fantastic rags, with face bruised out of all recognition, and proclaimed himself arthur, king of britain, and denounced the awful penalties of treason upon every soul there present if hair of his sacred head were touched. it startled and surprised him to hear them break into a vast roar of laughter. it wounded his dignity, and he locked himself up in silence. then, although the crowd begged him to go on, and tried to provoke him to it by catcalls, jeers, and shouts of: "let him speak! the king! the king! his humble subjects hunger and thirst for words of wisdom out of the mouth of their master his serene and sacred raggedness!" but it went for nothing. he put on all his majesty and sat under this rain of contempt and insult unmoved. he certainly was great in his way. absently, i had taken off my white bandage and wound it about my right arm. when the crowd noticed this, they began upon me. they said: "doubtless this sailor-man is his minister--observe his costly badge of office!" i let them go on until they got tired, and then i said: "yes, i am his minister, the boss; and to-morrow you will hear that from camelot which--" i got no further. they drowned me out with joyous derision. but presently there was silence; for the sheriffs of london, in their official robes, with their subordinates, began to make a stir which indicated that business was about to begin. in the hush which followed, our crime was recited, the death warrant read, then everybody uncovered while a priest uttered a prayer. then a slave was blindfolded; the hangman unslung his rope. there lay the smooth road below us, we upon one side of it, the banked multitude wailing its other side--a good clear road, and kept free by the police--how good it would be to see my five hundred horsemen come tearing down it! but no, it was out of the possibilities. i followed its receding thread out into the distance--not a horseman on it, or sign of one. there was a jerk, and the slave hung dangling; dangling and hideously squirming, for his limbs were not tied. a second rope was unslung, in a moment another slave was dangling. in a minute a third slave was struggling in the air. it was dreadful. i turned away my head a moment, and when i turned back i missed the king! they were blindfolding him! i was paralyzed; i couldn't move, i was choking, my tongue was petrified. they finished blindfolding him, they led him under the rope. i couldn't shake off that clinging impotence. but when i saw them put the noose around his neck, then everything let go in me and i made a spring to the rescue--and as i made it i shot one more glance abroad--by george! here they came, a-tilting!--five hundred mailed and belted knights on bicycles! the grandest sight that ever was seen. lord, how the plumes streamed, how the sun flamed and flashed from the endless procession of webby wheels! i waved my right arm as launcelot swept in--he recognized my rag --i tore away noose and bandage, and shouted: "on your knees, every rascal of you, and salute the king! who fails shall sup in hell to-night!" i always use that high style when i'm climaxing an effect. well, it was noble to see launcelot and the boys swarm up onto that scaffold and heave sheriffs and such overboard. and it was fine to see that astonished multitude go down on their knees and beg their lives of the king they had just been deriding and insulting. and as he stood apart there, receiving this homage in rags, i thought to myself, well, really there is something peculiarly grand about the gait and bearing of a king, after all. i was immensely satisfied. take the whole situation all around, it was one of the gaudiest effects i ever instigated. and presently up comes clarence, his own self! and winks, and says, very modernly: "good deal of a surprise, wasn't it? i knew you'd like it. i've had the boys practicing this long time, privately; and just hungry for a chance to show off." chapter xxxix the yankee's fight with the knights home again, at camelot. a morning or two later i found the paper, damp from the press, by my plate at the breakfast table. i turned to the advertising columns, knowing i should find something of personal interest to me there. it was this: de par le roi. know that the great lord and illus trious kni8ht, sir sagramor le desirous having condescended to meet the king's minister, hank mor gan, the which is surnamed the boss, for satisfgction of offence anciently given, these will engage in the lists by camelot about the fourth hour of the morning of the sixteenth day of this next succeeding month. the battle will be a l outrance, sith the said offence was of a deadly sort, admitting of no composition. de par le roi clarence's editorial reference to this affair was to this effect: it will be observed, by a gl7nce at our advertising columns, that the commu nity is to be favored with a treat of un usual interest in the tournament line. the n ames of the artists are warrant of good entertemment. the box-office will be open at noon of the 13th; ad mission 3 cents, reserved seatsh 5; pro ceeds to go to the hospital fund the royal pair and all the court will be pres ent. with these exceptions, and the press and the clergy, the free list is strict ly suspended. parties are hereby warn ed against buying tickets of speculators; they will not be good at the door. everybody knows and likes the boss, everybody knows and likes sir sag.; come, let us give the lads a good send off. remember, the proceeds go to a great and free charity, and one whose broad begevolence stretches out its help ing hand, warm with the blood of a lov ing heart, to all that suffer, regardless of race, creed, condition or color--the only charity yet established in the earth which has no politico-religious stop cock on its compassion, but says here flows the stream, let all come and drink! turn out, all hands! fetch along your dou3hnuts and your gum-drops and have a good time. pie for sale on the grounds, and rocks to crack it with; and circus-lemonade--three drops of lime juice to a barrel of water. n.b. this is the first tournament under the new law, whidh allow each combatant to use any weapon he may pre fer. you may want to make a note of that. up to the day set, there was no talk in all britain of anything but this combat. all other topics sank into insignificance and passed out of men's thoughts and interest. it was not because a tournament was a great matter, it was not because sir sagramor had found the holy grail, for he had not, but had failed; it was not because the second (official) personage in the kingdom was one of the duellists; no, all these features were commonplace. yet there was abundant reason for the extraordinary interest which this coming fight was creating. it was born of the fact that all the nation knew that this was not to be a duel between mere men, so to speak, but a duel between two mighty magicians; a duel not of muscle but of mind, not of human skill but of superhuman art and craft; a final struggle for supremacy between the two master enchanters of the age. it was realized that the most prodigious achievements of the most renowned knights could not be worthy of comparison with a spectacle like this; they could be but child's play, contrasted with this mysterious and awful battle of the gods. yes, all the world knew it was going to be in reality a duel between merlin and me, a measuring of his magic powers against mine. it was known that merlin had been busy whole days and nights together, imbuing sir sagramor's arms and armor with supernal powers of offense and defense, and that he had procured for him from the spirits of the air a fleecy veil which would render the wearer invisible to his antagonist while still visible to other men. against sir sagramor, so weaponed and protected, a thousand knights could accomplish nothing; against him no known enchantments could prevail. these facts were sure; regarding them there was no doubt, no reason for doubt. there was but one question: might there be still other enchantments, _unknown_ to merlin, which could render sir sagramor's veil transparent to me, and make his enchanted mail vulnerable to my weapons? this was the one thing to be decided in the lists. until then the world must remain in suspense. so the world thought there was a vast matter at stake here, and the world was right, but it was not the one they had in their minds. no, a far vaster one was upon the cast of this die: _the life of knight-errantry_. i was a champion, it was true, but not the champion of the frivolous black arts, i was the champion of hard unsentimental common-sense and reason. i was entering the lists to either destroy knight-errantry or be its victim. vast as the show-grounds were, there were no vacant spaces in them outside of the lists, at ten o'clock on the morning of the 16th. the mammoth grand-stand was clothed in flags, streamers, and rich tapestries, and packed with several acres of small-fry tributary kings, their suites, and the british aristocracy; with our own royal gang in the chief place, and each and every individual a flashing prism of gaudy silks and velvets--well, i never saw anything to begin with it but a fight between an upper mississippi sunset and the aurora borealis. the huge camp of beflagged and gay-colored tents at one end of the lists, with a stiff-standing sentinel at every door and a shining shield hanging by him for challenge, was another fine sight. you see, every knight was there who had any ambition or any caste feeling; for my feeling toward their order was not much of a secret, and so here was their chance. if i won my fight with sir sagramor, others would have the right to call me out as long as i might be willing to respond. down at our end there were but two tents; one for me, and another for my servants. at the appointed hour the king made a sign, and the heralds, in their tabards, appeared and made proclamation, naming the combatants and stating the cause of quarrel. there was a pause, then a ringing bugle-blast, which was the signal for us to come forth. all the multitude caught their breath, and an eager curiosity flashed into every face. out from his tent rode great sir sagramor, an imposing tower of iron, stately and rigid, his huge spear standing upright in its socket and grasped in his strong hand, his grand horse's face and breast cased in steel, his body clothed in rich trappings that almost dragged the ground--oh, a most noble picture. a great shout went up, of welcome and admiration. and then out i came. but i didn't get any shout. there was a wondering and eloquent silence for a moment, then a great wave of laughter began to sweep along that human sea, but a warning bugle-blast cut its career short. i was in the simplest and comfortablest of gymnast costumes--flesh-colored tights from neck to heel, with blue silk puffings about my loins, and bareheaded. my horse was not above medium size, but he was alert, slender-limbed, muscled with watchsprings, and just a greyhound to go. he was a beauty, glossy as silk, and naked as he was when he was born, except for bridle and ranger-saddle. the iron tower and the gorgeous bedquilt came cumbrously but gracefully pirouetting down the lists, and we tripped lightly up to meet them. we halted; the tower saluted, i responded; then we wheeled and rode side by side to the grand-stand and faced our king and queen, to whom we made obeisance. the queen exclaimed: "alack, sir boss, wilt fight naked, and without lance or sword or--" but the king checked her and made her understand, with a polite phrase or two, that this was none of her business. the bugles rang again; and we separated and rode to the ends of the lists, and took position. now old merlin stepped into view and cast a dainty web of gossamer threads over sir sagramor which turned him into hamlet's ghost; the king made a sign, the bugles blew, sir sagramor laid his great lance in rest, and the next moment here he came thundering down the course with his veil flying out behind, and i went whistling through the air like an arrow to meet him --cocking my ear the while, as if noting the invisible knight's position and progress by hearing, not sight. a chorus of encouraging shouts burst out for him, and one brave voice flung out a heartening word for me--said: "go it, slim jim!" it was an even bet that clarence had procured that favor for me --and furnished the language, too. when that formidable lance-point was within a yard and a half of my breast i twitched my horse aside without an effort, and the big knight swept by, scoring a blank. i got plenty of applause that time. we turned, braced up, and down we came again. another blank for the knight, a roar of applause for me. this same thing was repeated once more; and it fetched such a whirlwind of applause that sir sagramor lost his temper, and at once changed his tactics and set himself the task of chasing me down. why, he hadn't any show in the world at that; it was a game of tag, with all the advantage on my side; i whirled out of his path with ease whenever i chose, and once i slapped him on the back as i went to the rear. finally i took the chase into my own hands; and after that, turn, or twist, or do what he would, he was never able to get behind me again; he found himself always in front at the end of his maneuver. so he gave up that business and retired to his end of the lists. his temper was clear gone now, and he forgot himself and flung an insult at me which disposed of mine. i slipped my lasso from the horn of my saddle, and grasped the coil in my right hand. this time you should have seen him come!--it was a business trip, sure; by his gait there was blood in his eye. i was sitting my horse at ease, and swinging the great loop of my lasso in wide circles about my head; the moment he was under way, i started for him; when the space between us had narrowed to forty feet, i sent the snaky spirals of the rope a-cleaving through the air, then darted aside and faced about and brought my trained animal to a halt with all his feet braced under him for a surge. the next moment the rope sprang taut and yanked sir sagramor out of the saddle! great scott, but there was a sensation! unquestionably, the popular thing in this world is novelty. these people had never seen anything of that cowboy business before, and it carried them clear off their feet with delight. from all around and everywhere, the shout went up: "encore! encore!" i wondered where they got the word, but there was no time to cipher on philological matters, because the whole knight-errantry hive was just humming now, and my prospect for trade couldn't have been better. the moment my lasso was released and sir sagramor had been assisted to his tent, i hauled in the slack, took my station and began to swing my loop around my head again. i was sure to have use for it as soon as they could elect a successor for sir sagramor, and that couldn't take long where there were so many hungry candidates. indeed, they elected one straight off --sir hervis de revel. _bzz_! here he came, like a house afire; i dodged: he passed like a flash, with my horse-hair coils settling around his neck; a second or so later, _fst_! his saddle was empty. i got another encore; and another, and another, and still another. when i had snaked five men out, things began to look serious to the ironclads, and they stopped and consulted together. as a result, they decided that it was time to waive etiquette and send their greatest and best against me. to the astonishment of that little world, i lassoed sir lamorak de galis, and after him sir galahad. so you see there was simply nothing to be done now, but play their right bower--bring out the superbest of the superb, the mightiest of the mighty, the great sir launcelot himself! a proud moment for me? i should think so. yonder was arthur, king of britain; yonder was guenever; yes, and whole tribes of little provincial kings and kinglets; and in the tented camp yonder, renowned knights from many lands; and likewise the selectest body known to chivalry, the knights of the table round, the most illustrious in christendom; and biggest fact of all, the very sun of their shining system was yonder couching his lance, the focal point of forty thousand adoring eyes; and all by myself, here was i laying for him. across my mind flitted the dear image of a certain hello-girl of west hartford, and i wished she could see me now. in that moment, down came the invincible, with the rush of a whirlwind--the courtly world rose to its feet and bent forward --the fateful coils went circling through the air, and before you could wink i was towing sir launcelot across the field on his back, and kissing my hand to the storm of waving kerchiefs and the thunder-crash of applause that greeted me! said i to myself, as i coiled my lariat and hung it on my saddle-horn, and sat there drunk with glory, "the victory is perfect--no other will venture against me--knight-errantry is dead." now imagine my astonishment--and everybody else's, too--to hear the peculiar bugle-call which announces that another competitor is about to enter the lists! there was a mystery here; i couldn't account for this thing. next, i noticed merlin gliding away from me; and then i noticed that my lasso was gone! the old sleight-of-hand expert had stolen it, sure, and slipped it under his robe. the bugle blew again. i looked, and down came sagramor riding again, with his dust brushed off and his veil nicely re-arranged. i trotted up to meet him, and pretended to find him by the sound of his horse's hoofs. he said: "thou'rt quick of ear, but it will not save thee from this!" and he touched the hilt of his great sword. "an ye are not able to see it, because of the influence of the veil, know that it is no cumbrous lance, but a sword--and i ween ye will not be able to avoid it." his visor was up; there was death in his smile. i should never be able to dodge his sword, that was plain. somebody was going to die this time. if he got the drop on me, i could name the corpse. we rode forward together, and saluted the royalties. this time the king was disturbed. he said: "where is thy strange weapon?" "it is stolen, sire." "hast another at hand?" "no, sire, i brought only the one." then merlin mixed in: "he brought but the one because there was but the one to bring. there exists none other but that one. it belongeth to the king of the demons of the sea. this man is a pretender, and ignorant, else he had known that that weapon can be used in but eight bouts only, and then it vanisheth away to its home under the sea." "then is he weaponless," said the king. "sir sagramore, ye will grant him leave to borrow." "and i will lend!" said sir launcelot, limping up. "he is as brave a knight of his hands as any that be on live, and he shall have mine." he put his hand on his sword to draw it, but sir sagramor said: "stay, it may not be. he shall fight with his own weapons; it was his privilege to choose them and bring them. if he has erred, on his head be it." "knight!" said the king. "thou'rt overwrought with passion; it disorders thy mind. wouldst kill a naked man?" "an he do it, he shall answer it to me," said sir launcelot. "i will answer it to any he that desireth!" retorted sir sagramor hotly. merlin broke in, rubbing his hands and smiling his lowdownest smile of malicious gratification: "'tis well said, right well said! and 'tis enough of parleying, let my lord the king deliver the battle signal." the king had to yield. the bugle made proclamation, and we turned apart and rode to our stations. there we stood, a hundred yards apart, facing each other, rigid and motionless, like horsed statues. and so we remained, in a soundless hush, as much as a full minute, everybody gazing, nobody stirring. it seemed as if the king could not take heart to give the signal. but at last he lifted his hand, the clear note of the bugle followed, sir sagramor's long blade described a flashing curve in the air, and it was superb to see him come. i sat still. on he came. i did not move. people got so excited that they shouted to me: "fly, fly! save thyself! this is murther!" i never budged so much as an inch till that thundering apparition had got within fifteen paces of me; then i snatched a dragoon revolver out of my holster, there was a flash and a roar, and the revolver was back in the holster before anybody could tell what had happened. here was a riderless horse plunging by, and yonder lay sir sagramor, stone dead. the people that ran to him were stricken dumb to find that the life was actually gone out of the man and no reason for it visible, no hurt upon his body, nothing like a wound. there was a hole through the breast of his chain-mail, but they attached no importance to a little thing like that; and as a bullet wound there produces but little blood, none came in sight because of the clothing and swaddlings under the armor. the body was dragged over to let the king and the swells look down upon it. they were stupefied with astonishment naturally. i was requested to come and explain the miracle. but i remained in my tracks, like a statue, and said: "if it is a command, i will come, but my lord the king knows that i am where the laws of combat require me to remain while any desire to come against me." i waited. nobody challenged. then i said: "if there are any who doubt that this field is well and fairly won, i do not wait for them to challenge me, i challenge them." "it is a gallant offer," said the king, "and well beseems you. whom will you name first?" "i name none, i challenge all! here i stand, and dare the chivalry of england to come against me--not by individuals, but in mass!" "what!" shouted a score of knights. "you have heard the challenge. take it, or i proclaim you recreant knights and vanquished, every one!" it was a "bluff" you know. at such a time it is sound judgment to put on a bold face and play your hand for a hundred times what it is worth; forty-nine times out of fifty nobody dares to "call," and you rake in the chips. but just this once--well, things looked squally! in just no time, five hundred knights were scrambling into their saddles, and before you could wink a widely scattering drove were under way and clattering down upon me. i snatched both revolvers from the holsters and began to measure distances and calculate chances. bang! one saddle empty. bang! another one. bang--bang, and i bagged two. well, it was nip and tuck with us, and i knew it. if i spent the eleventh shot without convincing these people, the twelfth man would kill me, sure. and so i never did feel so happy as i did when my ninth downed its man and i detected the wavering in the crowd which is premonitory of panic. an instant lost now could knock out my last chance. but i didn't lose it. i raised both revolvers and pointed them--the halted host stood their ground just about one good square moment, then broke and fled. the day was mine. knight-errantry was a doomed institution. the march of civilization was begun. how did i feel? ah, you never could imagine it. and brer merlin? his stock was flat again. somehow, every time the magic of fol-de-rol tried conclusions with the magic of science, the magic of fol-de-rol got left. chapter xl three years later when i broke the back of knight-errantry that time, i no longer felt obliged to work in secret. so, the very next day i exposed my hidden schools, my mines, and my vast system of clandestine factories and workshops to an astonished world. that is to say, i exposed the nineteenth century to the inspection of the sixth. well, it is always a good plan to follow up an advantage promptly. the knights were temporarily down, but if i would keep them so i must just simply paralyze them--nothing short of that would answer. you see, i was "bluffing" that last time in the field; it would be natural for them to work around to that conclusion, if i gave them a chance. so i must not give them time; and i didn't. i renewed my challenge, engraved it on brass, posted it up where any priest could read it to them, and also kept it standing in the advertising columns of the paper. i not only renewed it, but added to its proportions. i said, name the day, and i would take fifty assistants and stand up _against the massed chivalry of the whole earth and destroy it_. i was not bluffing this time. i meant what i said; i could do what i promised. there wasn't any way to misunderstand the language of that challenge. even the dullest of the chivalry perceived that this was a plain case of "put up, or shut up." they were wise and did the latter. in all the next three years they gave me no trouble worth mentioning. consider the three years sped. now look around on england. a happy and prosperous country, and strangely altered. schools everywhere, and several colleges; a number of pretty good newspapers. even authorship was taking a start; sir dinadan the humorist was first in the field, with a volume of gray-headed jokes which i had been familiar with during thirteen centuries. if he had left out that old rancid one about the lecturer i wouldn't have said anything; but i couldn't stand that one. i suppressed the book and hanged the author. slavery was dead and gone; all men were equal before the law; taxation had been equalized. the telegraph, the telephone, the phonograph, the typewriter, the sewing-machine, and all the thousand willing and handy servants of steam and electricity were working their way into favor. we had a steamboat or two on the thames, we had steam warships, and the beginnings of a steam commercial marine; i was getting ready to send out an expedition to discover america. we were building several lines of railway, and our line from camelot to london was already finished and in operation. i was shrewd enough to make all offices connected with the passenger service places of high and distinguished honor. my idea was to attract the chivalry and nobility, and make them useful and keep them out of mischief. the plan worked very well, the competition for the places was hot. the conductor of the 4.33 express was a duke; there wasn't a passenger conductor on the line below the degree of earl. they were good men, every one, but they had two defects which i couldn't cure, and so had to wink at: they wouldn't lay aside their armor, and they would "knock down" fare --i mean rob the company. there was hardly a knight in all the land who wasn't in some useful employment. they were going from end to end of the country in all manner of useful missionary capacities; their penchant for wandering, and their experience in it, made them altogether the most effective spreaders of civilization we had. they went clothed in steel and equipped with sword and lance and battle-axe, and if they couldn't persuade a person to try a sewing-machine on the installment plan, or a melodeon, or a barbed-wire fence, or a prohibition journal, or any of the other thousand and one things they canvassed for, they removed him and passed on. i was very happy. things were working steadily toward a secretly longed-for point. you see, i had two schemes in my head which were the vastest of all my projects. the one was to overthrow the catholic church and set up the protestant faith on its ruins --not as an established church, but a go-as-you-please one; and the other project was to get a decree issued by and by, commanding that upon arthur's death unlimited suffrage should be introduced, and given to men and women alike--at any rate to all men, wise or unwise, and to all mothers who at middle age should be found to know nearly as much as their sons at twenty-one. arthur was good for thirty years yet, he being about my own age--that is to say, forty--and i believed that in that time i could easily have the active part of the population of that day ready and eager for an event which should be the first of its kind in the history of the world--a rounded and complete governmental revolution without bloodshed. the result to be a republic. well, i may as well confess, though i do feel ashamed when i think of it: i was beginning to have a base hankering to be its first president myself. yes, there was more or less human nature in me; i found that out. clarence was with me as concerned the revolution, but in a modified way. his idea was a republic, without privileged orders, but with a hereditary royal family at the head of it instead of an elective chief magistrate. he believed that no nation that had ever known the joy of worshiping a royal family could ever be robbed of it and not fade away and die of melancholy. i urged that kings were dangerous. he said, then have cats. he was sure that a royal family of cats would answer every purpose. they would be as useful as any other royal family, they would know as much, they would have the same virtues and the same treacheries, the same disposition to get up shindies with other royal cats, they would be laughably vain and absurd and never know it, they would be wholly inexpensive; finally, they would have as sound a divine right as any other royal house, and "tom vii, or tom xi, or tom xiv by the grace of god king," would sound as well as it would when applied to the ordinary royal tomcat with tights on. "and as a rule," said he, in his neat modern english, "the character of these cats would be considerably above the character of the average king, and this would be an immense moral advantage to the nation, for the reason that a nation always models its morals after its monarch's. the worship of royalty being founded in unreason, these graceful and harmless cats would easily become as sacred as any other royalties, and indeed more so, because it would presently be noticed that they hanged nobody, beheaded nobody, imprisoned nobody, inflicted no cruelties or injustices of any sort, and so must be worthy of a deeper love and reverence than the customary human king, and would certainly get it. the eyes of the whole harried world would soon be fixed upon this humane and gentle system, and royal butchers would presently begin to disappear; their subjects would fill the vacancies with catlings from our own royal house; we should become a factory; we should supply the thrones of the world; within forty years all europe would be governed by cats, and we should furnish the cats. the reign of universal peace would begin then, to end no more forever.... me-e-e-yow-ow-ow-ow--fzt!--wow!" hang him, i supposed he was in earnest, and was beginning to be persuaded by him, until he exploded that cat-howl and startled me almost out of my clothes. but he never could be in earnest. he didn't know what it was. he had pictured a distinct and perfectly rational and feasible improvement upon constitutional monarchy, but he was too feather-headed to know it, or care anything about it, either. i was going to give him a scolding, but sandy came flying in at that moment, wild with terror, and so choked with sobs that for a minute she could not get her voice. i ran and took her in my arms, and lavished caresses upon her and said, beseechingly: "speak, darling, speak! what is it?" her head fell limp upon my bosom, and she gasped, almost inaudibly: "hello-central!" "quick!" i shouted to clarence; "telephone the king's homeopath to come!" in two minutes i was kneeling by the child's crib, and sandy was dispatching servants here, there, and everywhere, all over the palace. i took in the situation almost at a glance--membranous croup! i bent down and whispered: "wake up, sweetheart! hello-central." she opened her soft eyes languidly, and made out to say: "papa." that was a comfort. she was far from dead yet. i sent for preparations of sulphur, i rousted out the croup-kettle myself; for i don't sit down and wait for doctors when sandy or the child is sick. i knew how to nurse both of them, and had had experience. this little chap had lived in my arms a good part of its small life, and often i could soothe away its troubles and get it to laugh through the tear-dews on its eye-lashes when even its mother couldn't. sir launcelot, in his richest armor, came striding along the great hall now on his way to the stock-board; he was president of the stock-board, and occupied the siege perilous, which he had bought of sir galahad; for the stock-board consisted of the knights of the round table, and they used the round table for business purposes now. seats at it were worth--well, you would never believe the figure, so it is no use to state it. sir launcelot was a bear, and he had put up a corner in one of the new lines, and was just getting ready to squeeze the shorts to-day; but what of that? he was the same old launcelot, and when he glanced in as he was passing the door and found out that his pet was sick, that was enough for him; bulls and bears might fight it out their own way for all him, he would come right in here and stand by little hello-central for all he was worth. and that was what he did. he shied his helmet into the corner, and in half a minute he had a new wick in the alcohol lamp and was firing up on the croup-kettle. by this time sandy had built a blanket canopy over the crib, and everything was ready. sir launcelot got up steam, he and i loaded up the kettle with unslaked lime and carbolic acid, with a touch of lactic acid added thereto, then filled the thing up with water and inserted the steam-spout under the canopy. everything was ship-shape now, and we sat down on either side of the crib to stand our watch. sandy was so grateful and so comforted that she charged a couple of church-wardens with willow-bark and sumach-tobacco for us, and told us to smoke as much as we pleased, it couldn't get under the canopy, and she was used to smoke, being the first lady in the land who had ever seen a cloud blown. well, there couldn't be a more contented or comfortable sight than sir launcelot in his noble armor sitting in gracious serenity at the end of a yard of snowy church-warden. he was a beautiful man, a lovely man, and was just intended to make a wife and children happy. but, of course guenever--however, it's no use to cry over what's done and can't be helped. well, he stood watch-and-watch with me, right straight through, for three days and nights, till the child was out of danger; then he took her up in his great arms and kissed her, with his plumes falling about her golden head, then laid her softly in sandy's lap again and took his stately way down the vast hall, between the ranks of admiring men-at-arms and menials, and so disappeared. and no instinct warned me that i should never look upon him again in this world! lord, what a world of heart-break it is. the doctors said we must take the child away, if we would coax her back to health and strength again. and she must have sea-air. so we took a man-of-war, and a suite of two hundred and sixty persons, and went cruising about, and after a fortnight of this we stepped ashore on the french coast, and the doctors thought it would be a good idea to make something of a stay there. the little king of that region offered us his hospitalities, and we were glad to accept. if he had had as many conveniences as he lacked, we should have been plenty comfortable enough; even as it was, we made out very well, in his queer old castle, by the help of comforts and luxuries from the ship. at the end of a month i sent the vessel home for fresh supplies, and for news. we expected her back in three or four days. she would bring me, along with other news, the result of a certain experiment which i had been starting. it was a project of mine to replace the tournament with something which might furnish an escape for the extra steam of the chivalry, keep those bucks entertained and out of mischief, and at the same time preserve the best thing in them, which was their hardy spirit of emulation. i had had a choice band of them in private training for some time, and the date was now arriving for their first public effort. this experiment was baseball. in order to give the thing vogue from the start, and place it out of the reach of criticism, i chose my nines by rank, not capacity. there wasn't a knight in either team who wasn't a sceptered sovereign. as for material of this sort, there was a glut of it always around arthur. you couldn't throw a brick in any direction and not cripple a king. of course, i couldn't get these people to leave off their armor; they wouldn't do that when they bathed. they consented to differentiate the armor so that a body could tell one team from the other, but that was the most they would do. so, one of the teams wore chain-mail ulsters, and the other wore plate-armor made of my new bessemer steel. their practice in the field was the most fantastic thing i ever saw. being ball-proof, they never skipped out of the way, but stood still and took the result; when a bessemer was at the bat and a ball hit him, it would bound a hundred and fifty yards sometimes. and when a man was running, and threw himself on his stomach to slide to his base, it was like an iron-clad coming into port. at first i appointed men of no rank to act as umpires, but i had to discontinue that. these people were no easier to please than other nines. the umpire's first decision was usually his last; they broke him in two with a bat, and his friends toted him home on a shutter. when it was noticed that no umpire ever survived a game, umpiring got to be unpopular. so i was obliged to appoint somebody whose rank and lofty position under the government would protect him. here are the names of the nines: bessemers ulsters king arthur. emperor lucius. king lot of lothian. king logris. king of northgalis. king marhalt of ireland. king marsil. king morganore. king of little britain. king mark of cornwall. king labor. king nentres of garlot. king pellam of listengese. king meliodas of liones. king bagdemagus. king of the lake. king tolleme la feintes. the sowdan of syria. umpire--clarence. the first public game would certainly draw fifty thousand people; and for solid fun would be worth going around the world to see. everything would be favorable; it was balmy and beautiful spring weather now, and nature was all tailored out in her new clothes. a connecticut yankee in king arthur's court by mark twain (samuel l. clemens) part 2. chapter vii merlin's tower inasmuch as i was now the second personage in the kingdom, as far as political power and authority were concerned, much was made of me. my raiment was of silks and velvets and cloth of gold, and by consequence was very showy, also uncomfortable. but habit would soon reconcile me to my clothes; i was aware of that. i was given the choicest suite of apartments in the castle, after the king's. they were aglow with loud-colored silken hangings, but the stone floors had nothing but rushes on them for a carpet, and they were misfit rushes at that, being not all of one breed. as for conveniences, properly speaking, there weren't any. i mean _little_ conveniences; it is the little conveniences that make the real comfort of life. the big oaken chairs, graced with rude carvings, were well enough, but that was the stopping place. there was no soap, no matches, no looking-glass--except a metal one, about as powerful as a pail of water. and not a chromo. i had been used to chromos for years, and i saw now that without my suspecting it a passion for art had got worked into the fabric of my being, and was become a part of me. it made me homesick to look around over this proud and gaudy but heartless barrenness and remember that in our house in east hartford, all unpretending as it was, you couldn't go into a room but you would find an insurance-chromo, or at least a three-color god-bless-our-home over the door; and in the parlor we had nine. but here, even in my grand room of state, there wasn't anything in the nature of a picture except a thing the size of a bedquilt, which was either woven or knitted (it had darned places in it), and nothing in it was the right color or the right shape; and as for proportions, even raphael himself couldn't have botched them more formidably, after all his practice on those nightmares they call his "celebrated hampton court cartoons." raphael was a bird. we had several of his chromos; one was his "miraculous draught of fishes," where he puts in a miracle of his own--puts three men into a canoe which wouldn't have held a dog without upsetting. i always admired to study r.'s art, it was so fresh and unconventional. there wasn't even a bell or a speaking-tube in the castle. i had a great many servants, and those that were on duty lolled in the anteroom; and when i wanted one of them i had to go and call for him. there was no gas, there were no candles; a bronze dish half full of boarding-house butter with a blazing rag floating in it was the thing that produced what was regarded as light. a lot of these hung along the walls and modified the dark, just toned it down enough to make it dismal. if you went out at night, your servants carried torches. there were no books, pens, paper or ink, and no glass in the openings they believed to be windows. it is a little thing--glass is--until it is absent, then it becomes a big thing. but perhaps the worst of all was, that there wasn't any sugar, coffee, tea, or tobacco. i saw that i was just another robinson crusoe cast away on an uninhabited island, with no society but some more or less tame animals, and if i wanted to make life bearable i must do as he did--invent, contrive, create, reorganize things; set brain and hand to work, and keep them busy. well, that was in my line. one thing troubled me along at first--the immense interest which people took in me. apparently the whole nation wanted a look at me. it soon transpired that the eclipse had scared the british world almost to death; that while it lasted the whole country, from one end to the other, was in a pitiable state of panic, and the churches, hermitages, and monkeries overflowed with praying and weeping poor creatures who thought the end of the world was come. then had followed the news that the producer of this awful event was a stranger, a mighty magician at arthur's court; that he could have blown out the sun like a candle, and was just going to do it when his mercy was purchased, and he then dissolved his enchantments, and was now recognized and honored as the man who had by his unaided might saved the globe from destruction and its peoples from extinction. now if you consider that everybody believed that, and not only believed it, but never even dreamed of doubting it, you will easily understand that there was not a person in all britain that would not have walked fifty miles to get a sight of me. of course i was all the talk--all other subjects were dropped; even the king became suddenly a person of minor interest and notoriety. within twenty-four hours the delegations began to arrive, and from that time onward for a fortnight they kept coming. the village was crowded, and all the countryside. i had to go out a dozen times a day and show myself to these reverent and awe-stricken multitudes. it came to be a great burden, as to time and trouble, but of course it was at the same time compensatingly agreeable to be so celebrated and such a center of homage. it turned brer merlin green with envy and spite, which was a great satisfaction to me. but there was one thing i couldn't understand--nobody had asked for an autograph. i spoke to clarence about it. by george! i had to explain to him what it was. then he said nobody in the country could read or write but a few dozen priests. land! think of that. there was another thing that troubled me a little. those multitudes presently began to agitate for another miracle. that was natural. to be able to carry back to their far homes the boast that they had seen the man who could command the sun, riding in the heavens, and be obeyed, would make them great in the eyes of their neighbors, and envied by them all; but to be able to also say they had seen him work a miracle themselves--why, people would come a distance to see _them_. the pressure got to be pretty strong. there was going to be an eclipse of the moon, and i knew the date and hour, but it was too far away. two years. i would have given a good deal for license to hurry it up and use it now when there was a big market for it. it seemed a great pity to have it wasted so, and come lagging along at a time when a body wouldn't have any use for it, as like as not. if it had been booked for only a month away, i could have sold it short; but, as matters stood, i couldn't seem to cipher out any way to make it do me any good, so i gave up trying. next, clarence found that old merlin was making himself busy on the sly among those people. he was spreading a report that i was a humbug, and that the reason i didn't accommodate the people with a miracle was because i couldn't. i saw that i must do something. i presently thought out a plan. by my authority as executive i threw merlin into prison--the same cell i had occupied myself. then i gave public notice by herald and trumpet that i should be busy with affairs of state for a fortnight, but about the end of that time i would take a moment's leisure and blow up merlin's stone tower by fires from heaven; in the meantime, whoso listened to evil reports about me, let him beware. furthermore, i would perform but this one miracle at this time, and no more; if it failed to satisfy and any murmured, i would turn the murmurers into horses, and make them useful. quiet ensued. i took clarence into my confidence, to a certain degree, and we went to work privately. i told him that this was a sort of miracle that required a trifle of preparation, and that it would be sudden death to ever talk about these preparations to anybody. that made his mouth safe enough. clandestinely we made a few bushels of first-rate blasting powder, and i superintended my armorers while they constructed a lightning-rod and some wires. this old stone tower was very massive--and rather ruinous, too, for it was roman, and four hundred years old. yes, and handsome, after a rude fashion, and clothed with ivy from base to summit, as with a shirt of scale mail. it stood on a lonely eminence, in good view from the castle, and about half a mile away. working by night, we stowed the powder in the tower--dug stones out, on the inside, and buried the powder in the walls themselves, which were fifteen feet thick at the base. we put in a peck at a time, in a dozen places. we could have blown up the tower of london with these charges. when the thirteenth night was come we put up our lightning-rod, bedded it in one of the batches of powder, and ran wires from it to the other batches. everybody had shunned that locality from the day of my proclamation, but on the morning of the fourteenth i thought best to warn the people, through the heralds, to keep clear away--a quarter of a mile away. then added, by command, that at some time during the twenty-four hours i would consummate the miracle, but would first give a brief notice; by flags on the castle towers if in the daytime, by torch-baskets in the same places if at night. thunder-showers had been tolerably frequent of late, and i was not much afraid of a failure; still, i shouldn't have cared for a delay of a day or two; i should have explained that i was busy with affairs of state yet, and the people must wait. of course, we had a blazing sunny day--almost the first one without a cloud for three weeks; things always happen so. i kept secluded, and watched the weather. clarence dropped in from time to time and said the public excitement was growing and growing all the time, and the whole country filling up with human masses as far as one could see from the battlements. at last the wind sprang up and a cloud appeared--in the right quarter, too, and just at nightfall. for a little while i watched that distant cloud spread and blacken, then i judged it was time for me to appear. i ordered the torch-baskets to be lit, and merlin liberated and sent to me. a quarter of an hour later i ascended the parapet and there found the king and the court assembled and gazing off in the darkness toward merlin's tower. already the darkness was so heavy that one could not see far; these people and the old turrets, being partly in deep shadow and partly in the red glow from the great torch-baskets overhead, made a good deal of a picture. merlin arrived in a gloomy mood. i said: "you wanted to burn me alive when i had not done you any harm, and latterly you have been trying to injure my professional reputation. therefore i am going to call down fire and blow up your tower, but it is only fair to give you a chance; now if you think you can break my enchantments and ward off the fires, step to the bat, it's your innings." "i can, fair sir, and i will. doubt it not." he drew an imaginary circle on the stones of the roof, and burnt a pinch of powder in it, which sent up a small cloud of aromatic smoke, whereat everybody fell back and began to cross themselves and get uncomfortable. then he began to mutter and make passes in the air with his hands. he worked himself up slowly and gradually into a sort of frenzy, and got to thrashing around with his arms like the sails of a windmill. by this time the storm had about reached us; the gusts of wind were flaring the torches and making the shadows swash about, the first heavy drops of rain were falling, the world abroad was black as pitch, the lightning began to wink fitfully. of course, my rod would be loading itself now. in fact, things were imminent. so i said: "you have had time enough. i have given you every advantage, and not interfered. it is plain your magic is weak. it is only fair that i begin now." i made about three passes in the air, and then there was an awful crash and that old tower leaped into the sky in chunks, along with a vast volcanic fountain of fire that turned night to noonday, and showed a thousand acres of human beings groveling on the ground in a general collapse of consternation. well, it rained mortar and masonry the rest of the week. this was the report; but probably the facts would have modified it. it was an effective miracle. the great bothersome temporary population vanished. there were a good many thousand tracks in the mud the next morning, but they were all outward bound. if i had advertised another miracle i couldn't have raised an audience with a sheriff. merlin's stock was flat. the king wanted to stop his wages; he even wanted to banish him, but i interfered. i said he would be useful to work the weather, and attend to small matters like that, and i would give him a lift now and then when his poor little parlor-magic soured on him. there wasn't a rag of his tower left, but i had the government rebuild it for him, and advised him to take boarders; but he was too high-toned for that. and as for being grateful, he never even said thank you. he was a rather hard lot, take him how you might; but then you couldn't fairly expect a man to be sweet that had been set back so. chapter viii the boss to be vested with enormous authority is a fine thing; but to have the on-looking world consent to it is a finer. the tower episode solidified my power, and made it impregnable. if any were perchance disposed to be jealous and critical before that, they experienced a change of heart, now. there was not any one in the kingdom who would have considered it good judgment to meddle with my matters. i was fast getting adjusted to my situation and circumstances. for a time, i used to wake up, mornings, and smile at my "dream," and listen for the colt's factory whistle; but that sort of thing played itself out, gradually, and at last i was fully able to realize that i was actually living in the sixth century, and in arthur's court, not a lunatic asylum. after that, i was just as much at home in that century as i could have been in any other; and as for preference, i wouldn't have traded it for the twentieth. look at the opportunities here for a man of knowledge, brains, pluck, and enterprise to sail in and grow up with the country. the grandest field that ever was; and all my own; not a competitor; not a man who wasn't a baby to me in acquirements and capacities; whereas, what would i amount to in the twentieth century? i should be foreman of a factory, that is about all; and could drag a seine down street any day and catch a hundred better men than myself. what a jump i had made! i couldn't keep from thinking about it, and contemplating it, just as one does who has struck oil. there was nothing back of me that could approach it, unless it might be joseph's case; and joseph's only approached it, it didn't equal it, quite. for it stands to reason that as joseph's splendid financial ingenuities advantaged nobody but the king, the general public must have regarded him with a good deal of disfavor, whereas i had done my entire public a kindness in sparing the sun, and was popular by reason of it. i was no shadow of a king; i was the substance; the king himself was the shadow. my power was colossal; and it was not a mere name, as such things have generally been, it was the genuine article. i stood here, at the very spring and source of the second great period of the world's history; and could see the trickling stream of that history gather and deepen and broaden, and roll its mighty tides down the far centuries; and i could note the upspringing of adventurers like myself in the shelter of its long array of thrones: de montforts, gavestons, mortimers, villierses; the war-making, campaign-directing wantons of france, and charles the second's scepter-wielding drabs; but nowhere in the procession was my full-sized fellow visible. i was a unique; and glad to know that that fact could not be dislodged or challenged for thirteen centuries and a half, for sure. yes, in power i was equal to the king. at the same time there was another power that was a trifle stronger than both of us put together. that was the church. i do not wish to disguise that fact. i couldn't, if i wanted to. but never mind about that, now; it will show up, in its proper place, later on. it didn't cause me any trouble in the beginning --at least any of consequence. well, it was a curious country, and full of interest. and the people! they were the quaintest and simplest and trustingest race; why, they were nothing but rabbits. it was pitiful for a person born in a wholesome free atmosphere to listen to their humble and hearty outpourings of loyalty toward their king and church and nobility; as if they had any more occasion to love and honor king and church and noble than a slave has to love and honor the lash, or a dog has to love and honor the stranger that kicks him! why, dear me, _any_ kind of royalty, howsoever modified, _any_ kind of aristocracy, howsoever pruned, is rightly an insult; but if you are born and brought up under that sort of arrangement you probably never find it out for yourself, and don't believe it when somebody else tells you. it is enough to make a body ashamed of his race to think of the sort of froth that has always occupied its thrones without shadow of right or reason, and the seventh-rate people that have always figured as its aristocracies--a company of monarchs and nobles who, as a rule, would have achieved only poverty and obscurity if left, like their betters, to their own exertions. the most of king arthur's british nation were slaves, pure and simple, and bore that name, and wore the iron collar on their necks; and the rest were slaves in fact, but without the name; they imagined themselves men and freemen, and called themselves so. the truth was, the nation as a body was in the world for one object, and one only: to grovel before king and church and noble; to slave for them, sweat blood for them, starve that they might be fed, work that they might play, drink misery to the dregs that they might be happy, go naked that they might wear silks and jewels, pay taxes that they might be spared from paying them, be familiar all their lives with the degrading language and postures of adulation that they might walk in pride and think themselves the gods of this world. and for all this, the thanks they got were cuffs and contempt; and so poor-spirited were they that they took even this sort of attention as an honor. inherited ideas are a curious thing, and interesting to observe and examine. i had mine, the king and his people had theirs. in both cases they flowed in ruts worn deep by time and habit, and the man who should have proposed to divert them by reason and argument would have had a long contract on his hands. for instance, those people had inherited the idea that all men without title and a long pedigree, whether they had great natural gifts and acquirements or hadn't, were creatures of no more consideration than so many animals, bugs, insects; whereas i had inherited the idea that human daws who can consent to masquerade in the peacock-shams of inherited dignities and unearned titles, are of no good but to be laughed at. the way i was looked upon was odd, but it was natural. you know how the keeper and the public regard the elephant in the menagerie: well, that is the idea. they are full of admiration of his vast bulk and his prodigious strength; they speak with pride of the fact that he can do a hundred marvels which are far and away beyond their own powers; and they speak with the same pride of the fact that in his wrath he is able to drive a thousand men before him. but does that make him one of _them_? no; the raggedest tramp in the pit would smile at the idea. he couldn't comprehend it; couldn't take it in; couldn't in any remote way conceive of it. well, to the king, the nobles, and all the nation, down to the very slaves and tramps, i was just that kind of an elephant, and nothing more. i was admired, also feared; but it was as an animal is admired and feared. the animal is not reverenced, neither was i; i was not even respected. i had no pedigree, no inherited title; so in the king's and nobles' eyes i was mere dirt; the people regarded me with wonder and awe, but there was no reverence mixed with it; through the force of inherited ideas they were not able to conceive of anything being entitled to that except pedigree and lordship. there you see the hand of that awful power, the roman catholic church. in two or three little centuries it had converted a nation of men to a nation of worms. before the day of the church's supremacy in the world, men were men, and held their heads up, and had a man's pride and spirit and independence; and what of greatness and position a person got, he got mainly by achievement, not by birth. but then the church came to the front, with an axe to grind; and she was wise, subtle, and knew more than one way to skin a cat--or a nation; she invented "divine right of kings," and propped it all around, brick by brick, with the beatitudes --wrenching them from their good purpose to make them fortify an evil one; she preached (to the commoner) humility, obedience to superiors, the beauty of self-sacrifice; she preached (to the commoner) meekness under insult; preached (still to the commoner, always to the commoner) patience, meanness of spirit, non-resistance under oppression; and she introduced heritable ranks and aristocracies, and taught all the christian populations of the earth to bow down to them and worship them. even down to my birth-century that poison was still in the blood of christendom, and the best of english commoners was still content to see his inferiors impudently continuing to hold a number of positions, such as lordships and the throne, to which the grotesque laws of his country did not allow him to aspire; in fact, he was not merely contented with this strange condition of things, he was even able to persuade himself that he was proud of it. it seems to show that there isn't anything you can't stand, if you are only born and bred to it. of course that taint, that reverence for rank and title, had been in our american blood, too--i know that; but when i left america it had disappeared--at least to all intents and purposes. the remnant of it was restricted to the dudes and dudesses. when a disease has worked its way down to that level, it may fairly be said to be out of the system. but to return to my anomalous position in king arthur's kingdom. here i was, a giant among pigmies, a man among children, a master intelligence among intellectual moles: by all rational measurement the one and only actually great man in that whole british world; and yet there and then, just as in the remote england of my birth-time, the sheep-witted earl who could claim long descent from a king's leman, acquired at second-hand from the slums of london, was a better man than i was. such a personage was fawned upon in arthur's realm and reverently looked up to by everybody, even though his dispositions were as mean as his intelligence, and his morals as base as his lineage. there were times when _he_ could sit down in the king's presence, but i couldn't. i could have got a title easily enough, and that would have raised me a large step in everybody's eyes; even in the king's, the giver of it. but i didn't ask for it; and i declined it when it was offered. i couldn't have enjoyed such a thing with my notions; and it wouldn't have been fair, anyway, because as far back as i could go, our tribe had always been short of the bar sinister. i couldn't have felt really and satisfactorily fine and proud and set-up over any title except one that should come from the nation itself, the only legitimate source; and such an one i hoped to win; and in the course of years of honest and honorable endeavor, i did win it and did wear it with a high and clean pride. this title fell casually from the lips of a blacksmith, one day, in a village, was caught up as a happy thought and tossed from mouth to mouth with a laugh and an affirmative vote; in ten days it had swept the kingdom, and was become as familiar as the king's name. i was never known by any other designation afterward, whether in the nation's talk or in grave debate upon matters of state at the council-board of the sovereign. this title, translated into modern speech, would be the boss. elected by the nation. that suited me. and it was a pretty high title. there were very few the's, and i was one of them. if you spoke of the duke, or the earl, or the bishop, how could anybody tell which one you meant? but if you spoke of the king or the queen or the boss, it was different. well, i liked the king, and as king i respected him--respected the office; at least respected it as much as i was capable of respecting any unearned supremacy; but as men i looked down upon him and his nobles--privately. and he and they liked me, and respected my office; but as an animal, without birth or sham title, they looked down upon me--and were not particularly private about it, either. i didn't charge for my opinion about them, and they didn't charge for their opinion about me: the account was square, the books balanced, everybody was satisfied. chapter ix the tournament they were always having grand tournaments there at camelot; and very stirring and picturesque and ridiculous human bull-fights they were, too, but just a little wearisome to the practical mind. however, i was generally on hand--for two reasons: a man must not hold himself aloof from the things which his friends and his community have at heart if he would be liked--especially as a statesman; and both as business man and statesman i wanted to study the tournament and see if i couldn't invent an improvement on it. that reminds me to remark, in passing, that the very first official thing i did, in my administration--and it was on the very first day of it, too--was to start a patent office; for i knew that a country without a patent office and good patent laws was just a crab, and couldn't travel any way but sideways or backways. things ran along, a tournament nearly every week; and now and then the boys used to want me to take a hand--i mean sir launcelot and the rest--but i said i would by and by; no hurry yet, and too much government machinery to oil up and set to rights and start a-going. we had one tournament which was continued from day to day during more than a week, and as many as five hundred knights took part in it, from first to last. they were weeks gathering. they came on horseback from everywhere; from the very ends of the country, and even from beyond the sea; and many brought ladies, and all brought squires and troops of servants. it was a most gaudy and gorgeous crowd, as to costumery, and very characteristic of the country and the time, in the way of high animal spirits, innocent indecencies of language, and happy-hearted indifference to morals. it was fight or look on, all day and every day; and sing, gamble, dance, carouse half the night every night. they had a most noble good time. you never saw such people. those banks of beautiful ladies, shining in their barbaric splendors, would see a knight sprawl from his horse in the lists with a lanceshaft the thickness of your ankle clean through him and the blood spouting, and instead of fainting they would clap their hands and crowd each other for a better view; only sometimes one would dive into her handkerchief, and look ostentatiously broken-hearted, and then you could lay two to one that there was a scandal there somewhere and she was afraid the public hadn't found it out. the noise at night would have been annoying to me ordinarily, but i didn't mind it in the present circumstances, because it kept me from hearing the quacks detaching legs and arms from the day's cripples. they ruined an uncommon good old cross-cut saw for me, and broke the saw-buck, too, but i let it pass. and as for my axe--well, i made up my mind that the next time i lent an axe to a surgeon i would pick my century. i not only watched this tournament from day to day, but detailed an intelligent priest from my department of public morals and agriculture, and ordered him to report it; for it was my purpose by and by, when i should have gotten the people along far enough, to start a newspaper. the first thing you want in a new country, is a patent office; then work up your school system; and after that, out with your paper. a newspaper has its faults, and plenty of them, but no matter, it's hark from the tomb for a dead nation, and don't you forget it. you can't resurrect a dead nation without it; there isn't any way. so i wanted to sample things, and be finding out what sort of reporter-material i might be able to rake together out of the sixth century when i should come to need it. well, the priest did very well, considering. he got in all the details, and that is a good thing in a local item: you see, he had kept books for the undertaker-department of his church when he was younger, and there, you know, the money's in the details; the more details, the more swag: bearers, mutes, candles, prayers --everything counts; and if the bereaved don't buy prayers enough you mark up your candles with a forked pencil, and your bill shows up all right. and he had a good knack at getting in the complimentary thing here and there about a knight that was likely to advertise--no, i mean a knight that had influence; and he also had a neat gift of exaggeration, for in his time he had kept door for a pious hermit who lived in a sty and worked miracles. of course this novice's report lacked whoop and crash and lurid description, and therefore wanted the true ring; but its antique wording was quaint and sweet and simple, and full of the fragrances and flavors of the time, and these little merits made up in a measure for its more important lacks. here is an extract from it: then sir brian de les isles and grummore grummorsum, knights of the castle, encountered with sir aglovale and sir tor, and sir tor smote down sir grummore grummorsum to the earth. then came sir carados of the dolorous tower, and sir turquine, knights of the castle, and there encountered with them sir percivale de galis and sir lamorak de galis, that were two brethren, and there encountered sir percivale with sir carados, and either brake their spears unto their hands, and then sir turquine with sir lamorak, and either of them smote down other, horse and all, to the earth, and either parties rescued other and horsed them again. and sir arnold, and sir gauter, knights of the castle, encountered with sir brandiles and sir kay, and these four knights encountered mightily, and brake their spears to their hands. then came sir pertolope from the castle, and there encountered with him sir lionel, and there sir pertolope the green knight smote down sir lionel, brother to sir launcelot. all this was marked by noble heralds, who bare him best, and their names. then sir bleobaris brake his spear upon sir gareth, but of that stroke sir bleobaris fell to the earth. when sir galihodin saw that, he bad sir gareth keep him, and sir gareth smote him to the earth. then sir galihud gat a spear to avenge his brother, and in the same wise sir gareth served him, and sir dinadan and his brother la cote male taile, and sir sagramore le disirous, and sir dodinas le savage; all these he bare down with one spear. when king aswisance of ireland saw sir gareth fare so he marvelled what he might be, that one time seemed green, and another time, at his again coming, he seemed blue. and thus at every course that he rode to and fro he changed his color, so that there might neither king nor knight have ready cognizance of him. then sir agwisance the king of ireland encountered with sir gareth, and there sir gareth smote him from his horse, saddle and all. and then came king carados of scotland, and sir gareth smote him down horse and man. and in the same wise he served king uriens of the land of gore. and then there came in sir bagdemagus, and sir gareth smote him down horse and man to the earth. and bagdemagus's son meliganus brake a spear upon sir gareth mightily and knightly. and then sir galahault the noble prince cried on high, knight with the many colors, well hast thou justed; now make thee ready that i may just with thee. sir gareth heard him, and he gat a great spear, and so they encountered together, and there the prince brake his spear; but sir gareth smote him upon the left side of the helm, that he reeled here and there, and he had fallen down had not his men recovered him. truly, said king arthur, that knight with the many colors is a good knight. wherefore the king called unto him sir launcelot, and prayed him to encounter with that knight. sir, said launcelot, i may as well find in my heart for to forbear him at this time, for he hath had travail enough this day, and when a good knight doth so well upon some day, it is no good knight's part to let him of his worship, and, namely, when he seeth a knight hath done so great labour; for peradventure, said sir launcelot, his quarrel is here this day, and peradventure he is best beloved with this lady of all that be here, for i see well he paineth himself and enforceth him to do great deeds, and therefore, said sir launcelot, as for me, this day he shall have the honour; though it lay in my power to put him from it, i would not. there was an unpleasant little episode that day, which for reasons of state i struck out of my priest's report. you will have noticed that garry was doing some great fighting in the engagement. when i say garry i mean sir gareth. garry was my private pet name for him; it suggests that i had a deep affection for him, and that was the case. but it was a private pet name only, and never spoken aloud to any one, much less to him; being a noble, he would not have endured a familiarity like that from me. well, to proceed: i sat in the private box set apart for me as the king's minister. while sir dinadan was waiting for his turn to enter the lists, he came in there and sat down and began to talk; for he was always making up to me, because i was a stranger and he liked to have a fresh market for his jokes, the most of them having reached that stage of wear where the teller has to do the laughing himself while the other person looks sick. i had always responded to his efforts as well as i could, and felt a very deep and real kindness for him, too, for the reason that if by malice of fate he knew the one particular anecdote which i had heard oftenest and had most hated and most loathed all my life, he had at least spared it me. it was one which i had heard attributed to every humorous person who had ever stood on american soil, from columbus down to artemus ward. it was about a humorous lecturer who flooded an ignorant audience with the killingest jokes for an hour and never got a laugh; and then when he was leaving, some gray simpletons wrung him gratefully by the hand and said it had been the funniest thing they had ever heard, and "it was all they could do to keep from laughin' right out in meetin'." that anecdote never saw the day that it was worth the telling; and yet i had sat under the telling of it hundreds and thousands and millions and billions of times, and cried and cursed all the way through. then who can hope to know what my feelings were, to hear this armor-plated ass start in on it again, in the murky twilight of tradition, before the dawn of history, while even lactantius might be referred to as "the late lactantius," and the crusades wouldn't be born for five hundred years yet? just as he finished, the call-boy came; so, haw-hawing like a demon, he went rattling and clanking out like a crate of loose castings, and i knew nothing more. it was some minutes before i came to, and then i opened my eyes just in time to see sir gareth fetch him an awful welt, and i unconsciously out with the prayer, "i hope to gracious he's killed!" but by ill-luck, before i had got half through with the words, sir gareth crashed into sir sagramor le desirous and sent him thundering over his horse's crupper, and sir sagramor caught my remark and thought i meant it for _him_. well, whenever one of those people got a thing into his head, there was no getting it out again. i knew that, so i saved my breath, and offered no explanations. as soon as sir sagramor got well, he notified me that there was a little account to settle between us, and he named a day three or four years in the future; place of settlement, the lists where the offense had been given. i said i would be ready when he got back. you see, he was going for the holy grail. the boys all took a flier at the holy grail now and then. it was a several years' cruise. they always put in the long absence snooping around, in the most conscientious way, though none of them had any idea where the holy grail really was, and i don't think any of them actually expected to find it, or would have known what to do with it if he _had_ run across it. you see, it was just the northwest passage of that day, as you may say; that was all. every year expeditions went out holy grailing, and next year relief expeditions went out to hunt for _them_. there was worlds of reputation in it, but no money. why, they actually wanted _me_ to put in! well, i should smile. chapter x beginnings of civilization the round table soon heard of the challenge, and of course it was a good deal discussed, for such things interested the boys. the king thought i ought now to set forth in quest of adventures, so that i might gain renown and be the more worthy to meet sir sagramor when the several years should have rolled away. i excused myself for the present; i said it would take me three or four years yet to get things well fixed up and going smoothly; then i should be ready; all the chances were that at the end of that time sir sagramor would still be out grailing, so no valuable time would be lost by the postponement; i should then have been in office six or seven years, and i believed my system and machinery would be so well developed that i could take a holiday without its working any harm. i was pretty well satisfied with what i had already accomplished. in various quiet nooks and corners i had the beginnings of all sorts of industries under way--nuclei of future vast factories, the iron and steel missionaries of my future civilization. in these were gathered together the brightest young minds i could find, and i kept agents out raking the country for more, all the time. i was training a crowd of ignorant folk into experts--experts in every sort of handiwork and scientific calling. these nurseries of mine went smoothly and privately along undisturbed in their obscure country retreats, for nobody was allowed to come into their precincts without a special permit--for i was afraid of the church. i had started a teacher-factory and a lot of sunday-schools the first thing; as a result, i now had an admirable system of graded schools in full blast in those places, and also a complete variety of protestant congregations all in a prosperous and growing condition. everybody could be any kind of a christian he wanted to; there was perfect freedom in that matter. but i confined public religious teaching to the churches and the sunday-schools, permitting nothing of it in my other educational buildings. i could have given my own sect the preference and made everybody a presbyterian without any trouble, but that would have been to affront a law of human nature: spiritual wants and instincts are as various in the human family as are physical appetites, complexions, and features, and a man is only at his best, morally, when he is equipped with the religious garment whose color and shape and size most nicely accommodate themselves to the spiritual complexion, angularities, and stature of the individual who wears it; and, besides, i was afraid of a united church; it makes a mighty power, the mightiest conceivable, and then when it by and by gets into selfish hands, as it is always bound to do, it means death to human liberty and paralysis to human thought. all mines were royal property, and there were a good many of them. they had formerly been worked as savages always work mines--holes grubbed in the earth and the mineral brought up in sacks of hide by hand, at the rate of a ton a day; but i had begun to put the mining on a scientific basis as early as i could. yes, i had made pretty handsome progress when sir sagramor's challenge struck me. four years rolled by--and then! well, you would never imagine it in the world. unlimited power is the ideal thing when it is in safe hands. the despotism of heaven is the one absolutely perfect government. an earthly despotism would be the absolutely perfect earthly government, if the conditions were the same, namely, the despot the perfectest individual of the human race, and his lease of life perpetual. but as a perishable perfect man must die, and leave his despotism in the hands of an imperfect successor, an earthly despotism is not merely a bad form of government, it is the worst form that is possible. my works showed what a despot could do with the resources of a kingdom at his command. unsuspected by this dark land, i had the civilization of the nineteenth century booming under its very nose! it was fenced away from the public view, but there it was, a gigantic and unassailable fact--and to be heard from, yet, if i lived and had luck. there it was, as sure a fact and as substantial a fact as any serene volcano, standing innocent with its smokeless summit in the blue sky and giving no sign of the rising hell in its bowels. my schools and churches were children four years before; they were grown-up now; my shops of that day were vast factories now; where i had a dozen trained men then, i had a thousand now; where i had one brilliant expert then, i had fifty now. i stood with my hand on the cock, so to speak, ready to turn it on and flood the midnight world with light at any moment. but i was not going to do the thing in that sudden way. it was not my policy. the people could not have stood it; and, moreover, i should have had the established roman catholic church on my back in a minute. no, i had been going cautiously all the while. i had had confidential agents trickling through the country some time, whose office was to undermine knighthood by imperceptible degrees, and to gnaw a little at this and that and the other superstition, and so prepare the way gradually for a better order of things. i was turning on my light one-candle-power at a time, and meant to continue to do so. i had scattered some branch schools secretly about the kingdom, and they were doing very well. i meant to work this racket more and more, as time wore on, if nothing occurred to frighten me. one of my deepest secrets was my west point--my military academy. i kept that most jealously out of sight; and i did the same with my naval academy which i had established at a remote seaport. both were prospering to my satisfaction. clarence was twenty-two now, and was my head executive, my right hand. he was a darling; he was equal to anything; there wasn't anything he couldn't turn his hand to. of late i had been training him for journalism, for the time seemed about right for a start in the newspaper line; nothing big, but just a small weekly for experimental circulation in my civilization-nurseries. he took to it like a duck; there was an editor concealed in him, sure. already he had doubled himself in one way; he talked sixth century and wrote nineteenth. his journalistic style was climbing, steadily; it was already up to the back settlement alabama mark, and couldn't be told from the editorial output of that region either by matter or flavor. we had another large departure on hand, too. this was a telegraph and a telephone; our first venture in this line. these wires were for private service only, as yet, and must be kept private until a riper day should come. we had a gang of men on the road, working mainly by night. they were stringing ground wires; we were afraid to put up poles, for they would attract too much inquiry. ground wires were good enough, in both instances, for my wires were protected by an insulation of my own invention which was perfect. my men had orders to strike across country, avoiding roads, and establishing connection with any considerable towns whose lights betrayed their presence, and leaving experts in charge. nobody could tell you how to find any place in the kingdom, for nobody ever went intentionally to any place, but only struck it by accident in his wanderings, and then generally left it without thinking to inquire what its name was. at one time and another we had sent out topographical expeditions to survey and map the kingdom, but the priests had always interfered and raised trouble. so we had given the thing up, for the present; it would be poor wisdom to antagonize the church. as for the general condition of the country, it was as it had been when i arrived in it, to all intents and purposes. i had made changes, but they were necessarily slight, and they were not noticeable. thus far, i had not even meddled with taxation, outside of the taxes which provided the royal revenues. i had systematized those, and put the service on an effective and righteous basis. as a result, these revenues were already quadrupled, and yet the burden was so much more equably distributed than before, that all the kingdom felt a sense of relief, and the praises of my administration were hearty and general. personally, i struck an interruption, now, but i did not mind it, it could not have happened at a better time. earlier it could have annoyed me, but now everything was in good hands and swimming right along. the king had reminded me several times, of late, that the postponement i had asked for, four years before, had about run out now. it was a hint that i ought to be starting out to seek adventures and get up a reputation of a size to make me worthy of the honor of breaking a lance with sir sagramor, who was still out grailing, but was being hunted for by various relief expeditions, and might be found any year, now. so you see i was expecting this interruption; it did not take me by surprise. chapter xi the yankee in search of adventures there never was such a country for wandering liars; and they were of both sexes. hardly a month went by without one of these tramps arriving; and generally loaded with a tale about some princess or other wanting help to get her out of some far-away castle where she was held in captivity by a lawless scoundrel, usually a giant. now you would think that the first thing the king would do after listening to such a novelette from an entire stranger, would be to ask for credentials--yes, and a pointer or two as to locality of castle, best route to it, and so on. but nobody ever thought of so simple and common-sense a thing at that. no, everybody swallowed these people's lies whole, and never asked a question of any sort or about anything. well, one day when i was not around, one of these people came along--it was a she one, this time--and told a tale of the usual pattern. her mistress was a captive in a vast and gloomy castle, along with forty-four other young and beautiful girls, pretty much all of them princesses; they had been languishing in that cruel captivity for twenty-six years; the masters of the castle were three stupendous brothers, each with four arms and one eye--the eye in the center of the forehead, and as big as a fruit. sort of fruit not mentioned; their usual slovenliness in statistics. would you believe it? the king and the whole round table were in raptures over this preposterous opportunity for adventure. every knight of the table jumped for the chance, and begged for it; but to their vexation and chagrin the king conferred it upon me, who had not asked for it at all. by an effort, i contained my joy when clarence brought me the news. but he--he could not contain his. his mouth gushed delight and gratitude in a steady discharge--delight in my good fortune, gratitude to the king for this splendid mark of his favor for me. he could keep neither his legs nor his body still, but pirouetted about the place in an airy ecstasy of happiness. on my side, i could have cursed the kindness that conferred upon me this benefaction, but i kept my vexation under the surface for policy's sake, and did what i could to let on to be glad. indeed, i _said_ i was glad. and in a way it was true; i was as glad as a person is when he is scalped. well, one must make the best of things, and not waste time with useless fretting, but get down to business and see what can be done. in all lies there is wheat among the chaff; i must get at the wheat in this case: so i sent for the girl and she came. she was a comely enough creature, and soft and modest, but, if signs went for anything, she didn't know as much as a lady's watch. i said: "my dear, have you been questioned as to particulars?" she said she hadn't. "well, i didn't expect you had, but i thought i would ask, to make sure; it's the way i've been raised. now you mustn't take it unkindly if i remind you that as we don't know you, we must go a little slow. you may be all right, of course, and we'll hope that you are; but to take it for granted isn't business. _you_ understand that. i'm obliged to ask you a few questions; just answer up fair and square, and don't be afraid. where do you live, when you are at home?" "in the land of moder, fair sir." "land of moder. i don't remember hearing of it before. parents living?" "as to that, i know not if they be yet on live, sith it is many years that i have lain shut up in the castle." "your name, please?" "i hight the demoiselle alisande la carteloise, an it please you." "do you know anybody here who can identify you?" "that were not likely, fair lord, i being come hither now for the first time." "have you brought any letters--any documents--any proofs that you are trustworthy and truthful?" "of a surety, no; and wherefore should i? have i not a tongue, and cannot i say all that myself?" "but _your_ saying it, you know, and somebody else's saying it, is different." "different? how might that be? i fear me i do not understand." "don't _understand_? land of--why, you see--you see--why, great scott, can't you understand a little thing like that? can't you understand the difference between your--_why_ do you look so innocent and idiotic!" "i? in truth i know not, but an it were the will of god." "yes, yes, i reckon that's about the size of it. don't mind my seeming excited; i'm not. let us change the subject. now as to this castle, with forty-five princesses in it, and three ogres at the head of it, tell me--where is this harem?" "harem?" "the _castle_, you understand; where is the castle?" "oh, as to that, it is great, and strong, and well beseen, and lieth in a far country. yes, it is many leagues." "_how_ many?" "ah, fair sir, it were woundily hard to tell, they are so many, and do so lap the one upon the other, and being made all in the same image and tincted with the same color, one may not know the one league from its fellow, nor how to count them except they be taken apart, and ye wit well it were god's work to do that, being not within man's capacity; for ye will note--" "hold on, hold on, never mind about the distance; _whereabouts_ does the castle lie? what's the direction from here?" "ah, please you sir, it hath no direction from here; by reason that the road lieth not straight, but turneth evermore; wherefore the direction of its place abideth not, but is some time under the one sky and anon under another, whereso if ye be minded that it is in the east, and wend thitherward, ye shall observe that the way of the road doth yet again turn upon itself by the space of half a circle, and this marvel happing again and yet again and still again, it will grieve you that you had thought by vanities of the mind to thwart and bring to naught the will of him that giveth not a castle a direction from a place except it pleaseth him, and if it please him not, will the rather that even all castles and all directions thereunto vanish out of the earth, leaving the places wherein they tarried desolate and vacant, so warning his creatures that where he will he will, and where he will not he--" "oh, that's all right, that's all right, give us a rest; never mind about the direction, _hang_ the direction--i beg pardon, i beg a thousand pardons, i am not well to-day; pay no attention when i soliloquize, it is an old habit, an old, bad habit, and hard to get rid of when one's digestion is all disordered with eating food that was raised forever and ever before he was born; good land! a man can't keep his functions regular on spring chickens thirteen hundred years old. but come--never mind about that; let's--have you got such a thing as a map of that region about you? now a good map--" "is it peradventure that manner of thing which of late the unbelievers have brought from over the great seas, which, being boiled in oil, and an onion and salt added thereto, doth--" "what, a map? what are you talking about? don't you know what a map is? there, there, never mind, don't explain, i hate explanations; they fog a thing up so that you can't tell anything about it. run along, dear; good-day; show her the way, clarence." oh, well, it was reasonably plain, now, why these donkeys didn't prospect these liars for details. it may be that this girl had a fact in her somewhere, but i don't believe you could have sluiced it out with a hydraulic; nor got it with the earlier forms of blasting, even; it was a case for dynamite. why, she was a perfect ass; and yet the king and his knights had listened to her as if she had been a leaf out of the gospel. it kind of sizes up the whole party. and think of the simple ways of this court: this wandering wench hadn't any more trouble to get access to the king in his palace than she would have had to get into the poorhouse in my day and country. in fact, he was glad to see her, glad to hear her tale; with that adventure of hers to offer, she was as welcome as a corpse is to a coroner. just as i was ending-up these reflections, clarence came back. i remarked upon the barren result of my efforts with the girl; hadn't got hold of a single point that could help me to find the castle. the youth looked a little surprised, or puzzled, or something, and intimated that he had been wondering to himself what i had wanted to ask the girl all those questions for. "why, great guns," i said, "don't i want to find the castle? and how else would i go about it?" "la, sweet your worship, one may lightly answer that, i ween. she will go with thee. they always do. she will ride with thee." "ride with me? nonsense!" "but of a truth she will. she will ride with thee. thou shalt see." "what? she browse around the hills and scour the woods with me --alone--and i as good as engaged to be married? why, it's scandalous. think how it would look." my, the dear face that rose before me! the boy was eager to know all about this tender matter. i swore him to secrecy and then whispered her name--"puss flanagan." he looked disappointed, and said he didn't remember the countess. how natural it was for the little courtier to give her a rank. he asked me where she lived. "in east har--" i came to myself and stopped, a little confused; then i said, "never mind, now; i'll tell you some time." and might he see her? would i let him see her some day? it was but a little thing to promise--thirteen hundred years or so--and he so eager; so i said yes. but i sighed; i couldn't help it. and yet there was no sense in sighing, for she wasn't born yet. but that is the way we are made: we don't reason, where we feel; we just feel. my expedition was all the talk that day and that night, and the boys were very good to me, and made much of me, and seemed to have forgotten their vexation and disappointment, and come to be as anxious for me to hive those ogres and set those ripe old virgins loose as if it were themselves that had the contract. well, they _were_ good children--but just children, that is all. and they gave me no end of points about how to scout for giants, and how to scoop them in; and they told me all sorts of charms against enchantments, and gave me salves and other rubbish to put on my wounds. but it never occurred to one of them to reflect that if i was such a wonderful necromancer as i was pretending to be, i ought not to need salves or instructions, or charms against enchantments, and, least of all, arms and armor, on a foray of any kind--even against fire-spouting dragons, and devils hot from perdition, let alone such poor adversaries as these i was after, these commonplace ogres of the back settlements. i was to have an early breakfast, and start at dawn, for that was the usual way; but i had the demon's own time with my armor, and this delayed me a little. it is troublesome to get into, and there is so much detail. first you wrap a layer or two of blanket around your body, for a sort of cushion and to keep off the cold iron; then you put on your sleeves and shirt of chain mail--these are made of small steel links woven together, and they form a fabric so flexible that if you toss your shirt onto the floor, it slumps into a pile like a peck of wet fish-net; it is very heavy and is nearly the uncomfortablest material in the world for a night shirt, yet plenty used it for that--tax collectors, and reformers, and one-horse kings with a defective title, and those sorts of people; then you put on your shoes--flat-boats roofed over with interleaving bands of steel--and screw your clumsy spurs into the heels. next you buckle your greaves on your legs, and your cuisses on your thighs; then come your backplate and your breastplate, and you begin to feel crowded; then you hitch onto the breastplate the half-petticoat of broad overlapping bands of steel which hangs down in front but is scolloped out behind so you can sit down, and isn't any real improvement on an inverted coal scuttle, either for looks or for wear, or to wipe your hands on; next you belt on your sword; then you put your stove-pipe joints onto your arms, your iron gauntlets onto your hands, your iron rat-trap onto your head, with a rag of steel web hitched onto it to hang over the back of your neck--and there you are, snug as a candle in a candle-mould. this is no time to dance. well, a man that is packed away like that is a nut that isn't worth the cracking, there is so little of the meat, when you get down to it, by comparison with the shell. the boys helped me, or i never could have got in. just as we finished, sir bedivere happened in, and i saw that as like as not i hadn't chosen the most convenient outfit for a long trip. how stately he looked; and tall and broad and grand. he had on his head a conical steel casque that only came down to his ears, and for visor had only a narrow steel bar that extended down to his upper lip and protected his nose; and all the rest of him, from neck to heel, was flexible chain mail, trousers and all. but pretty much all of him was hidden under his outside garment, which of course was of chain mail, as i said, and hung straight from his shoulders to his ankles; and from his middle to the bottom, both before and behind, was divided, so that he could ride and let the skirts hang down on each side. he was going grailing, and it was just the outfit for it, too. i would have given a good deal for that ulster, but it was too late now to be fooling around. the sun was just up, the king and the court were all on hand to see me off and wish me luck; so it wouldn't be etiquette for me to tarry. you don't get on your horse yourself; no, if you tried it you would get disappointed. they carry you out, just as they carry a sun-struck man to the drug store, and put you on, and help get you to rights, and fix your feet in the stirrups; and all the while you do feel so strange and stuffy and like somebody else--like somebody that has been married on a sudden, or struck by lightning, or something like that, and hasn't quite fetched around yet, and is sort of numb, and can't just get his bearings. then they stood up the mast they called a spear, in its socket by my left foot, and i gripped it with my hand; lastly they hung my shield around my neck, and i was all complete and ready to up anchor and get to sea. everybody was as good to me as they could be, and a maid of honor gave me the stirrup-cup her own self. there was nothing more to do now, but for that damsel to get up behind me on a pillion, which she did, and put an arm or so around me to hold on. and so we started, and everybody gave us a goodbye and waved their handkerchiefs or helmets. and everybody we met, going down the hill and through the village was respectful to us, except some shabby little boys on the outskirts. they said: "oh, what a guy!" and hove clods at us. in my experience boys are the same in all ages. they don't respect anything, they don't care for anything or anybody. they say "go up, baldhead" to the prophet going his unoffending way in the gray of antiquity; they sass me in the holy gloom of the middle ages; and i had seen them act the same way in buchanan's administration; i remember, because i was there and helped. the prophet had his bears and settled with his boys; and i wanted to get down and settle with mine, but it wouldn't answer, because i couldn't have got up again. i hate a country without a derrick. a connecticut yankee in king arthur's court by mark twain (samuel l. clemens) part 1. preface the ungentle laws and customs touched upon in this tale are historical, and the episodes which are used to illustrate them are also historical. it is not pretended that these laws and customs existed in england in the sixth century; no, it is only pretended that inasmuch as they existed in the english and other civilizations of far later times, it is safe to consider that it is no libel upon the sixth century to suppose them to have been in practice in that day also. one is quite justified in inferring that whatever one of these laws or customs was lacking in that remote time, its place was competently filled by a worse one. the question as to whether there is such a thing as divine right of kings is not settled in this book. it was found too difficult. that the executive head of a nation should be a person of lofty character and extraordinary ability, was manifest and indisputable; that none but the deity could select that head unerringly, was also manifest and indisputable; that the deity ought to make that selection, then, was likewise manifest and indisputable; consequently, that he does make it, as claimed, was an unavoidable deduction. i mean, until the author of this book encountered the pompadour, and lady castlemaine, and some other executive heads of that kind; these were found so difficult to work into the scheme, that it was judged better to take the other tack in this book (which must be issued this fall), and then go into training and settle the question in another book. it is, of course, a thing which ought to be settled, and i am not going to have anything particular to do next winter anyway. mark twain hartford, july 21, 1889 a connecticut yankee in king arthur's court a word of explanation it was in warwick castle that i came across the curious stranger whom i am going to talk about. he attracted me by three things: his candid simplicity, his marvelous familiarity with ancient armor, and the restfulness of his company--for he did all the talking. we fell together, as modest people will, in the tail of the herd that was being shown through, and he at once began to say things which interested me. as he talked along, softly, pleasantly, flowingly, he seemed to drift away imperceptibly out of this world and time, and into some remote era and old forgotten country; and so he gradually wove such a spell about me that i seemed to move among the specters and shadows and dust and mold of a gray antiquity, holding speech with a relic of it! exactly as i would speak of my nearest personal friends or enemies, or my most familiar neighbors, he spoke of sir bedivere, sir bors de ganis, sir launcelot of the lake, sir galahad, and all the other great names of the table round--and how old, old, unspeakably old and faded and dry and musty and ancient he came to look as he went on! presently he turned to me and said, just as one might speak of the weather, or any other common matter-"you know about transmigration of souls; do you know about transposition of epochs--and bodies?" i said i had not heard of it. he was so little interested--just as when people speak of the weather--that he did not notice whether i made him any answer or not. there was half a moment of silence, immediately interrupted by the droning voice of the salaried cicerone: "ancient hauberk, date of the sixth century, time of king arthur and the round table; said to have belonged to the knight sir sagramor le desirous; observe the round hole through the chain-mail in the left breast; can't be accounted for; supposed to have been done with a bullet since invention of firearms--perhaps maliciously by cromwell's soldiers." my acquaintance smiled--not a modern smile, but one that must have gone out of general use many, many centuries ago--and muttered apparently to himself: "wit ye well, _i saw it done_." then, after a pause, added: "i did it myself." by the time i had recovered from the electric surprise of this remark, he was gone. all that evening i sat by my fire at the warwick arms, steeped in a dream of the olden time, while the rain beat upon the windows, and the wind roared about the eaves and corners. from time to time i dipped into old sir thomas malory's enchanting book, and fed at its rich feast of prodigies and adventures, breathed in the fragrance of its obsolete names, and dreamed again. midnight being come at length, i read another tale, for a nightcap--this which here follows, to wit: how sir launcelot slew two giants, and made a castle free anon withal came there upon him two great giants, well armed, all save the heads, with two horrible clubs in their hands. sir launcelot put his shield afore him, and put the stroke away of the one giant, and with his sword he clave his head asunder. when his fellow saw that, he ran away as he were wood [*demented], for fear of the horrible strokes, and sir launcelot after him with all his might, and smote him on the shoulder, and clave him to the middle. then sir launcelot went into the hall, and there came afore him three score ladies and damsels, and all kneeled unto him, and thanked god and him of their deliverance. for, sir, said they, the most part of us have been here this seven year their prisoners, and we have worked all manner of silk works for our meat, and we are all great gentle-women born, and blessed be the time, knight, that ever thou wert born; for thou hast done the most worship that ever did knight in the world, that will we bear record, and we all pray you to tell us your name, that we may tell our friends who delivered us out of prison. fair damsels, he said, my name is sir launcelot du lake. and so he departed from them and betaught them unto god. and then he mounted upon his horse, and rode into many strange and wild countries, and through many waters and valleys, and evil was he lodged. and at the last by fortune him happened against a night to come to a fair courtilage, and therein he found an old gentle-woman that lodged him with a good-will, and there he had good cheer for him and his horse. and when time was, his host brought him into a fair garret over the gate to his bed. there sir launcelot unarmed him, and set his harness by him, and went to bed, and anon he fell on sleep. so, soon after there came one on horseback, and knocked at the gate in great haste. and when sir launcelot heard this he rose up, and looked out at the window, and saw by the moonlight three knights come riding after that one man, and all three lashed on him at once with swords, and that one knight turned on them knightly again and defended him. truly, said sir launcelot, yonder one knight shall i help, for it were shame for me to see three knights on one, and if he be slain i am partner of his death. and therewith he took his harness and went out at a window by a sheet down to the four knights, and then sir launcelot said on high, turn you knights unto me, and leave your fighting with that knight. and then they all three left sir kay, and turned unto sir launcelot, and there began great battle, for they alight all three, and strake many strokes at sir launcelot, and assailed him on every side. then sir kay dressed him for to have holpen sir launcelot. nay, sir, said he, i will none of your help, therefore as ye will have my help let me alone with them. sir kay for the pleasure of the knight suffered him for to do his will, and so stood aside. and then anon within six strokes sir launcelot had stricken them to the earth. and then they all three cried, sir knight, we yield us unto you as man of might matchless. as to that, said sir launcelot, i will not take your yielding unto me, but so that ye yield you unto sir kay the seneschal, on that covenant i will save your lives and else not. fair knight, said they, that were we loath to do; for as for sir kay we chased him hither, and had overcome him had ye not been; therefore, to yield us unto him it were no reason. well, as to that, said sir launcelot, advise you well, for ye may choose whether ye will die or live, for an ye be yielden, it shall be unto sir kay. fair knight, then they said, in saving our lives we will do as thou commandest us. then shall ye, said sir launcelot, on whitsunday next coming go unto the court of king arthur, and there shall ye yield you unto queen guenever, and put you all three in her grace and mercy, and say that sir kay sent you thither to be her prisoners. on the morn sir launcelot arose early, and left sir kay sleeping; and sir launcelot took sir kay's armor and his shield and armed him, and so he went to the stable and took his horse, and took his leave of his host, and so he departed. then soon after arose sir kay and missed sir launcelot; and then he espied that he had his armor and his horse. now by my faith i know well that he will grieve some of the court of king arthur; for on him knights will be bold, and deem that it is i, and that will beguile them; and because of his armor and shield i am sure i shall ride in peace. and then soon after departed sir kay, and thanked his host. as i laid the book down there was a knock at the door, and my stranger came in. i gave him a pipe and a chair, and made him welcome. i also comforted him with a hot scotch whisky; gave him another one; then still another--hoping always for his story. after a fourth persuader, he drifted into it himself, in a quite simple and natural way: the stranger's history i am an american. i was born and reared in hartford, in the state of connecticut--anyway, just over the river, in the country. so i am a yankee of the yankees--and practical; yes, and nearly barren of sentiment, i suppose--or poetry, in other words. my father was a blacksmith, my uncle was a horse doctor, and i was both, along at first. then i went over to the great arms factory and learned my real trade; learned all there was to it; learned to make everything: guns, revolvers, cannon, boilers, engines, all sorts of labor-saving machinery. why, i could make anything a body wanted--anything in the world, it didn't make any difference what; and if there wasn't any quick new-fangled way to make a thing, i could invent one--and do it as easy as rolling off a log. i became head superintendent; had a couple of thousand men under me. well, a man like that is a man that is full of fight--that goes without saying. with a couple of thousand rough men under one, one has plenty of that sort of amusement. i had, anyway. at last i met my match, and i got my dose. it was during a misunderstanding conducted with crowbars with a fellow we used to call hercules. he laid me out with a crusher alongside the head that made everything crack, and seemed to spring every joint in my skull and made it overlap its neighbor. then the world went out in darkness, and i didn't feel anything more, and didn't know anything at all --at least for a while. when i came to again, i was sitting under an oak tree, on the grass, with a whole beautiful and broad country landscape all to myself--nearly. not entirely; for there was a fellow on a horse, looking down at me--a fellow fresh out of a picture-book. he was in old-time iron armor from head to heel, with a helmet on his head the shape of a nail-keg with slits in it; and he had a shield, and a sword, and a prodigious spear; and his horse had armor on, too, and a steel horn projecting from his forehead, and gorgeous red and green silk trappings that hung down all around him like a bedquilt, nearly to the ground. "fair sir, will ye just?" said this fellow. "will i which?" "will ye try a passage of arms for land or lady or for--" "what are you giving me?" i said. "get along back to your circus, or i'll report you." now what does this man do but fall back a couple of hundred yards and then come rushing at me as hard as he could tear, with his nail-keg bent down nearly to his horse's neck and his long spear pointed straight ahead. i saw he meant business, so i was up the tree when he arrived. he allowed that i was his property, the captive of his spear. there was argument on his side--and the bulk of the advantage --so i judged it best to humor him. we fixed up an agreement whereby i was to go with him and he was not to hurt me. i came down, and we started away, i walking by the side of his horse. we marched comfortably along, through glades and over brooks which i could not remember to have seen before--which puzzled me and made me wonder--and yet we did not come to any circus or sign of a circus. so i gave up the idea of a circus, and concluded he was from an asylum. but we never came to an asylum--so i was up a stump, as you may say. i asked him how far we were from hartford. he said he had never heard of the place; which i took to be a lie, but allowed it to go at that. at the end of an hour we saw a far-away town sleeping in a valley by a winding river; and beyond it on a hill, a vast gray fortress, with towers and turrets, the first i had ever seen out of a picture. "bridgeport?" said i, pointing. "camelot," said he. my stranger had been showing signs of sleepiness. he caught himself nodding, now, and smiled one of those pathetic, obsolete smiles of his, and said: "i find i can't go on; but come with me, i've got it all written out, and you can read it if you like." in his chamber, he said: "first, i kept a journal; then by and by, after years, i took the journal and turned it into a book. how long ago that was!" he handed me his manuscript, and pointed out the place where i should begin: "begin here--i've already told you what goes before." he was steeped in drowsiness by this time. as i went out at his door i heard him murmur sleepily: "give you good den, fair sir." i sat down by my fire and examined my treasure. the first part of it--the great bulk of it--was parchment, and yellow with age. i scanned a leaf particularly and saw that it was a palimpsest. under the old dim writing of the yankee historian appeared traces of a penmanship which was older and dimmer still--latin words and sentences: fragments from old monkish legends, evidently. i turned to the place indicated by my stranger and began to read --as follows: the tale of the lost land chapter i camelot "camelot--camelot," said i to myself. "i don't seem to remember hearing of it before. name of the asylum, likely." it was a soft, reposeful summer landscape, as lovely as a dream, and as lonesome as sunday. the air was full of the smell of flowers, and the buzzing of insects, and the twittering of birds, and there were no people, no wagons, there was no stir of life, nothing going on. the road was mainly a winding path with hoof-prints in it, and now and then a faint trace of wheels on either side in the grass--wheels that apparently had a tire as broad as one's hand. presently a fair slip of a girl, about ten years old, with a cataract of golden hair streaming down over her shoulders, came along. around her head she wore a hoop of flame-red poppies. it was as sweet an outfit as ever i saw, what there was of it. she walked indolently along, with a mind at rest, its peace reflected in her innocent face. the circus man paid no attention to her; didn't even seem to see her. and she--she was no more startled at his fantastic make-up than if she was used to his like every day of her life. she was going by as indifferently as she might have gone by a couple of cows; but when she happened to notice me, _then_ there was a change! up went her hands, and she was turned to stone; her mouth dropped open, her eyes stared wide and timorously, she was the picture of astonished curiosity touched with fear. and there she stood gazing, in a sort of stupefied fascination, till we turned a corner of the wood and were lost to her view. that she should be startled at me instead of at the other man, was too many for me; i couldn't make head or tail of it. and that she should seem to consider me a spectacle, and totally overlook her own merits in that respect, was another puzzling thing, and a display of magnanimity, too, that was surprising in one so young. there was food for thought here. i moved along as one in a dream. as we approached the town, signs of life began to appear. at intervals we passed a wretched cabin, with a thatched roof, and about it small fields and garden patches in an indifferent state of cultivation. there were people, too; brawny men, with long, coarse, uncombed hair that hung down over their faces and made them look like animals. they and the women, as a rule, wore a coarse tow-linen robe that came well below the knee, and a rude sort of sandal, and many wore an iron collar. the small boys and girls were always naked; but nobody seemed to know it. all of these people stared at me, talked about me, ran into the huts and fetched out their families to gape at me; but nobody ever noticed that other fellow, except to make him humble salutation and get no response for their pains. in the town were some substantial windowless houses of stone scattered among a wilderness of thatched cabins; the streets were mere crooked alleys, and unpaved; troops of dogs and nude children played in the sun and made life and noise; hogs roamed and rooted contentedly about, and one of them lay in a reeking wallow in the middle of the main thoroughfare and suckled her family. presently there was a distant blare of military music; it came nearer, still nearer, and soon a noble cavalcade wound into view, glorious with plumed helmets and flashing mail and flaunting banners and rich doublets and horse-cloths and gilded spearheads; and through the muck and swine, and naked brats, and joyous dogs, and shabby huts, it took its gallant way, and in its wake we followed. followed through one winding alley and then another,--and climbing, always climbing--till at last we gained the breezy height where the huge castle stood. there was an exchange of bugle blasts; then a parley from the walls, where men-at-arms, in hauberk and morion, marched back and forth with halberd at shoulder under flapping banners with the rude figure of a dragon displayed upon them; and then the great gates were flung open, the drawbridge was lowered, and the head of the cavalcade swept forward under the frowning arches; and we, following, soon found ourselves in a great paved court, with towers and turrets stretching up into the blue air on all the four sides; and all about us the dismount was going on, and much greeting and ceremony, and running to and fro, and a gay display of moving and intermingling colors, and an altogether pleasant stir and noise and confusion. chapter ii king arthur's court the moment i got a chance i slipped aside privately and touched an ancient common looking man on the shoulder and said, in an insinuating, confidential way: "friend, do me a kindness. do you belong to the asylum, or are you just on a visit or something like that?" he looked me over stupidly, and said: "marry, fair sir, me seemeth--" "that will do," i said; "i reckon you are a patient." i moved away, cogitating, and at the same time keeping an eye out for any chance passenger in his right mind that might come along and give me some light. i judged i had found one, presently; so i drew him aside and said in his ear: "if i could see the head keeper a minute--only just a minute--" "prithee do not let me." "let you _what_?" "_hinder_ me, then, if the word please thee better. then he went on to say he was an under-cook and could not stop to gossip, though he would like it another time; for it would comfort his very liver to know where i got my clothes. as he started away he pointed and said yonder was one who was idle enough for my purpose, and was seeking me besides, no doubt. this was an airy slim boy in shrimp-colored tights that made him look like a forked carrot, the rest of his gear was blue silk and dainty laces and ruffles; and he had long yellow curls, and wore a plumed pink satin cap tilted complacently over his ear. by his look, he was good-natured; by his gait, he was satisfied with himself. he was pretty enough to frame. he arrived, looked me over with a smiling and impudent curiosity; said he had come for me, and informed me that he was a page. "go 'long," i said; "you ain't more than a paragraph." it was pretty severe, but i was nettled. however, it never phazed him; he didn't appear to know he was hurt. he began to talk and laugh, in happy, thoughtless, boyish fashion, as we walked along, and made himself old friends with me at once; asked me all sorts of questions about myself and about my clothes, but never waited for an answer--always chattered straight ahead, as if he didn't know he had asked a question and wasn't expecting any reply, until at last he happened to mention that he was born in the beginning of the year 513. it made the cold chills creep over me! i stopped and said, a little faintly: "maybe i didn't hear you just right. say it again--and say it slow. what year was it?" "513." "513! you don't look it! come, my boy, i am a stranger and friendless; be honest and honorable with me. are you in your right mind?" he said he was. "are these other people in their right minds?" he said they were. "and this isn't an asylum? i mean, it isn't a place where they cure crazy people?" he said it wasn't. "well, then," i said, "either i am a lunatic, or something just as awful has happened. now tell me, honest and true, where am i?" "in king arthur's court." i waited a minute, to let that idea shudder its way home, and then said: "and according to your notions, what year is it now?" "528--nineteenth of june." i felt a mournful sinking at the heart, and muttered: "i shall never see my friends again--never, never again. they will not be born for more than thirteen hundred years yet." i seemed to believe the boy, i didn't know why. _something_ in me seemed to believe him--my consciousness, as you may say; but my reason didn't. my reason straightway began to clamor; that was natural. i didn't know how to go about satisfying it, because i knew that the testimony of men wouldn't serve--my reason would say they were lunatics, and throw out their evidence. but all of a sudden i stumbled on the very thing, just by luck. i knew that the only total eclipse of the sun in the first half of the sixth century occurred on the 21st of june, a.d. 528, o.s., and began at 3 minutes after 12 noon. i also knew that no total eclipse of the sun was due in what to _me_ was the present year--i.e., 1879. so, if i could keep my anxiety and curiosity from eating the heart out of me for forty-eight hours, i should then find out for certain whether this boy was telling me the truth or not. wherefore, being a practical connecticut man, i now shoved this whole problem clear out of my mind till its appointed day and hour should come, in order that i might turn all my attention to the circumstances of the present moment, and be alert and ready to make the most out of them that could be made. one thing at a time, is my motto--and just play that thing for all it is worth, even if it's only two pair and a jack. i made up my mind to two things: if it was still the nineteenth century and i was among lunatics and couldn't get away, i would presently boss that asylum or know the reason why; and if, on the other hand, it was really the sixth century, all right, i didn't want any softer thing: i would boss the whole country inside of three months; for i judged i would have the start of the best-educated man in the kingdom by a matter of thirteen hundred years and upward. i'm not a man to waste time after my mind's made up and there's work on hand; so i said to the page: "now, clarence, my boy--if that might happen to be your name --i'll get you to post me up a little if you don't mind. what is the name of that apparition that brought me here?" "my master and thine? that is the good knight and great lord sir kay the seneschal, foster brother to our liege the king." "very good; go on, tell me everything." he made a long story of it; but the part that had immediate interest for me was this: he said i was sir kay's prisoner, and that in the due course of custom i would be flung into a dungeon and left there on scant commons until my friends ransomed me--unless i chanced to rot, first. i saw that the last chance had the best show, but i didn't waste any bother about that; time was too precious. the page said, further, that dinner was about ended in the great hall by this time, and that as soon as the sociability and the heavy drinking should begin, sir kay would have me in and exhibit me before king arthur and his illustrious knights seated at the table round, and would brag about his exploit in capturing me, and would probably exaggerate the facts a little, but it wouldn't be good form for me to correct him, and not over safe, either; and when i was done being exhibited, then ho for the dungeon; but he, clarence, would find a way to come and see me every now and then, and cheer me up, and help me get word to my friends. get word to my friends! i thanked him; i couldn't do less; and about this time a lackey came to say i was wanted; so clarence led me in and took me off to one side and sat down by me. well, it was a curious kind of spectacle, and interesting. it was an immense place, and rather naked--yes, and full of loud contrasts. it was very, very lofty; so lofty that the banners depending from the arched beams and girders away up there floated in a sort of twilight; there was a stone-railed gallery at each end, high up, with musicians in the one, and women, clothed in stunning colors, in the other. the floor was of big stone flags laid in black and white squares, rather battered by age and use, and needing repair. as to ornament, there wasn't any, strictly speaking; though on the walls hung some huge tapestries which were probably taxed as works of art; battle-pieces, they were, with horses shaped like those which children cut out of paper or create in gingerbread; with men on them in scale armor whose scales are represented by round holes--so that the man's coat looks as if it had been done with a biscuit-punch. there was a fireplace big enough to camp in; and its projecting sides and hood, of carved and pillared stonework, had the look of a cathedral door. along the walls stood men-at-arms, in breastplate and morion, with halberds for their only weapon --rigid as statues; and that is what they looked like. in the middle of this groined and vaulted public square was an oaken table which they called the table round. it was as large as a circus ring; and around it sat a great company of men dressed in such various and splendid colors that it hurt one's eyes to look at them. they wore their plumed hats, right along, except that whenever one addressed himself directly to the king, he lifted his hat a trifle just as he was beginning his remark. mainly they were drinking--from entire ox horns; but a few were still munching bread or gnawing beef bones. there was about an average of two dogs to one man; and these sat in expectant attitudes till a spent bone was flung to them, and then they went for it by brigades and divisions, with a rush, and there ensued a fight which filled the prospect with a tumultuous chaos of plunging heads and bodies and flashing tails, and the storm of howlings and barkings deafened all speech for the time; but that was no matter, for the dog-fight was always a bigger interest anyway; the men rose, sometimes, to observe it the better and bet on it, and the ladies and the musicians stretched themselves out over their balusters with the same object; and all broke into delighted ejaculations from time to time. in the end, the winning dog stretched himself out comfortably with his bone between his paws, and proceeded to growl over it, and gnaw it, and grease the floor with it, just as fifty others were already doing; and the rest of the court resumed their previous industries and entertainments. as a rule, the speech and behavior of these people were gracious and courtly; and i noticed that they were good and serious listeners when anybody was telling anything--i mean in a dog-fightless interval. and plainly, too, they were a childlike and innocent lot; telling lies of the stateliest pattern with a most gentle and winning naivety, and ready and willing to listen to anybody else's lie, and believe it, too. it was hard to associate them with anything cruel or dreadful; and yet they dealt in tales of blood and suffering with a guileless relish that made me almost forget to shudder. i was not the only prisoner present. there were twenty or more. poor devils, many of them were maimed, hacked, carved, in a frightful way; and their hair, their faces, their clothing, were caked with black and stiffened drenchings of blood. they were suffering sharp physical pain, of course; and weariness, and hunger and thirst, no doubt; and at least none had given them the comfort of a wash, or even the poor charity of a lotion for their wounds; yet you never heard them utter a moan or a groan, or saw them show any sign of restlessness, or any disposition to complain. the thought was forced upon me: "the rascals--_they_ have served other people so in their day; it being their own turn, now, they were not expecting any better treatment than this; so their philosophical bearing is not an outcome of mental training, intellectual fortitude, reasoning; it is mere animal training; they are white indians." chapter iii knights of the table round mainly the round table talk was monologues--narrative accounts of the adventures in which these prisoners were captured and their friends and backers killed and stripped of their steeds and armor. as a general thing--as far as i could make out--these murderous adventures were not forays undertaken to avenge injuries, nor to settle old disputes or sudden fallings out; no, as a rule they were simply duels between strangers--duels between people who had never even been introduced to each other, and between whom existed no cause of offense whatever. many a time i had seen a couple of boys, strangers, meet by chance, and say simultaneously, "i can lick you," and go at it on the spot; but i had always imagined until now that that sort of thing belonged to children only, and was a sign and mark of childhood; but here were these big boobies sticking to it and taking pride in it clear up into full age and beyond. yet there was something very engaging about these great simple-hearted creatures, something attractive and lovable. there did not seem to be brains enough in the entire nursery, so to speak, to bait a fish-hook with; but you didn't seem to mind that, after a little, because you soon saw that brains were not needed in a society like that, and indeed would have marred it, hindered it, spoiled its symmetry--perhaps rendered its existence impossible. there was a fine manliness observable in almost every face; and in some a certain loftiness and sweetness that rebuked your belittling criticisms and stilled them. a most noble benignity and purity reposed in the countenance of him they called sir galahad, and likewise in the king's also; and there was majesty and greatness in the giant frame and high bearing of sir launcelot of the lake. there was presently an incident which centered the general interest upon this sir launcelot. at a sign from a sort of master of ceremonies, six or eight of the prisoners rose and came forward in a body and knelt on the floor and lifted up their hands toward the ladies' gallery and begged the grace of a word with the queen. the most conspicuously situated lady in that massed flower-bed of feminine show and finery inclined her head by way of assent, and then the spokesman of the prisoners delivered himself and his fellows into her hands for free pardon, ransom, captivity, or death, as she in her good pleasure might elect; and this, as he said, he was doing by command of sir kay the seneschal, whose prisoners they were, he having vanquished them by his single might and prowess in sturdy conflict in the field. surprise and astonishment flashed from face to face all over the house; the queen's gratified smile faded out at the name of sir kay, and she looked disappointed; and the page whispered in my ear with an accent and manner expressive of extravagant derision-"sir _kay_, forsooth! oh, call me pet names, dearest, call me a marine! in twice a thousand years shall the unholy invention of man labor at odds to beget the fellow to this majestic lie!" every eye was fastened with severe inquiry upon sir kay. but he was equal to the occasion. he got up and played his hand like a major--and took every trick. he said he would state the case exactly according to the facts; he would tell the simple straightforward tale, without comment of his own; "and then," said he, "if ye find glory and honor due, ye will give it unto him who is the mightiest man of his hands that ever bare shield or strake with sword in the ranks of christian battle--even him that sitteth there!" and he pointed to sir launcelot. ah, he fetched them; it was a rattling good stroke. then he went on and told how sir launcelot, seeking adventures, some brief time gone by, killed seven giants at one sweep of his sword, and set a hundred and forty-two captive maidens free; and then went further, still seeking adventures, and found him (sir kay) fighting a desperate fight against nine foreign knights, and straightway took the battle solely into his own hands, and conquered the nine; and that night sir launcelot rose quietly, and dressed him in sir kay's armor and took sir kay's horse and gat him away into distant lands, and vanquished sixteen knights in one pitched battle and thirty-four in another; and all these and the former nine he made to swear that about whitsuntide they would ride to arthur's court and yield them to queen guenever's hands as captives of sir kay the seneschal, spoil of his knightly prowess; and now here were these half dozen, and the rest would be along as soon as they might be healed of their desperate wounds. well, it was touching to see the queen blush and smile, and look embarrassed and happy, and fling furtive glances at sir launcelot that would have got him shot in arkansas, to a dead certainty. everybody praised the valor and magnanimity of sir launcelot; and as for me, i was perfectly amazed, that one man, all by himself, should have been able to beat down and capture such battalions of practiced fighters. i said as much to clarence; but this mocking featherhead only said: "an sir kay had had time to get another skin of sour wine into him, ye had seen the accompt doubled." i looked at the boy in sorrow; and as i looked i saw the cloud of a deep despondency settle upon his countenance. i followed the direction of his eye, and saw that a very old and white-bearded man, clothed in a flowing black gown, had risen and was standing at the table upon unsteady legs, and feebly swaying his ancient head and surveying the company with his watery and wandering eye. the same suffering look that was in the page's face was observable in all the faces around--the look of dumb creatures who know that they must endure and make no moan. "marry, we shall have it again," sighed the boy; "that same old weary tale that he hath told a thousand times in the same words, and that he _will_ tell till he dieth, every time he hath gotten his barrel full and feeleth his exaggeration-mill a-working. would god i had died or i saw this day!" "who is it?" "merlin, the mighty liar and magician, perdition singe him for the weariness he worketh with his one tale! but that men fear him for that he hath the storms and the lightnings and all the devils that be in hell at his beck and call, they would have dug his entrails out these many years ago to get at that tale and squelch it. he telleth it always in the third person, making believe he is too modest to glorify himself--maledictions light upon him, misfortune be his dole! good friend, prithee call me for evensong." the boy nestled himself upon my shoulder and pretended to go to sleep. the old man began his tale; and presently the lad was asleep in reality; so also were the dogs, and the court, the lackeys, and the files of men-at-arms. the droning voice droned on; a soft snoring arose on all sides and supported it like a deep and subdued accompaniment of wind instruments. some heads were bowed upon folded arms, some lay back with open mouths that issued unconscious music; the flies buzzed and bit, unmolested, the rats swarmed softly out from a hundred holes, and pattered about, and made themselves at home everywhere; and one of them sat up like a squirrel on the king's head and held a bit of cheese in its hands and nibbled it, and dribbled the crumbs in the king's face with naive and impudent irreverence. it was a tranquil scene, and restful to the weary eye and the jaded spirit. this was the old man's tale. he said: "right so the king and merlin departed, and went until an hermit that was a good man and a great leech. so the hermit searched all his wounds and gave him good salves; so the king was there three days, and then were his wounds well amended that he might ride and go, and so departed. and as they rode, arthur said, i have no sword. no force,* [*footnote from m.t.: no matter.] said merlin, hereby is a sword that shall be yours and i may. so they rode till they came to a lake, the which was a fair water and broad, and in the midst of the lake arthur was ware of an arm clothed in white samite, that held a fair sword in that hand. lo, said merlin, yonder is that sword that i spake of. with that they saw a damsel going upon the lake. what damsel is that? said arthur. that is the lady of the lake, said merlin; and within that lake is a rock, and therein is as fair a place as any on earth, and richly beseen, and this damsel will come to you anon, and then speak ye fair to her that she will give you that sword. anon withal came the damsel unto arthur and saluted him, and he her again. damsel, said arthur, what sword is that, that yonder the arm holdeth above the water? i would it were mine, for i have no sword. sir arthur king, said the damsel, that sword is mine, and if ye will give me a gift when i ask it you, ye shall have it. by my faith, said arthur, i will give you what gift ye will ask. well, said the damsel, go ye into yonder barge and row yourself to the sword, and take it and the scabbard with you, and i will ask my gift when i see my time. so sir arthur and merlin alight, and tied their horses to two trees, and so they went into the ship, and when they came to the sword that the hand held, sir arthur took it up by the handles, and took it with him. and the arm and the hand went under the water; and so they came unto the land and rode forth. and then sir arthur saw a rich pavilion. what signifieth yonder pavilion? it is the knight's pavilion, said merlin, that ye fought with last, sir pellinore, but he is out, he is not there; he hath ado with a knight of yours, that hight egglame, and they have fought together, but at the last egglame fled, and else he had been dead, and he hath chased him even to carlion, and we shall meet with him anon in the highway. that is well said, said arthur, now have i a sword, now will i wage battle with him, and be avenged on him. sir, ye shall not so, said merlin, for the knight is weary of fighting and chasing, so that ye shall have no worship to have ado with him; also, he will not lightly be matched of one knight living; and therefore it is my counsel, let him pass, for he shall do you good service in short time, and his sons, after his days. also ye shall see that day in short space ye shall be right glad to give him your sister to wed. when i see him, i will do as ye advise me, said arthur. then sir arthur looked on the sword, and liked it passing well. whether liketh you better, said merlin, the sword or the scabbard? me liketh better the sword, said arthur. ye are more unwise, said merlin, for the scabbard is worth ten of the sword, for while ye have the scabbard upon you ye shall never lose no blood, be ye never so sore wounded; therefore, keep well the scabbard always with you. so they rode into carlion, and by the way they met with sir pellinore; but merlin had done such a craft that pellinore saw not arthur, and he passed by without any words. i marvel, said arthur, that the knight would not speak. sir, said merlin, he saw you not; for and he had seen you ye had not lightly departed. so they came unto carlion, whereof his knights were passing glad. and when they heard of his adventures they marveled that he would jeopard his person so alone. but all men of worship said it was merry to be under such a chieftain that would put his person in adventure as other poor knights did." chapter iv sir dinadan the humorist it seemed to me that this quaint lie was most simply and beautifully told; but then i had heard it only once, and that makes a difference; it was pleasant to the others when it was fresh, no doubt. sir dinadan the humorist was the first to awake, and he soon roused the rest with a practical joke of a sufficiently poor quality. he tied some metal mugs to a dog's tail and turned him loose, and he tore around and around the place in a frenzy of fright, with all the other dogs bellowing after him and battering and crashing against everything that came in their way and making altogether a chaos of confusion and a most deafening din and turmoil; at which every man and woman of the multitude laughed till the tears flowed, and some fell out of their chairs and wallowed on the floor in ecstasy. it was just like so many children. sir dinadan was so proud of his exploit that he could not keep from telling over and over again, to weariness, how the immortal idea happened to occur to him; and as is the way with humorists of his breed, he was still laughing at it after everybody else had got through. he was so set up that he concluded to make a speech --of course a humorous speech. i think i never heard so many old played-out jokes strung together in my life. he was worse than the minstrels, worse than the clown in the circus. it seemed peculiarly sad to sit here, thirteen hundred years before i was born, and listen again to poor, flat, worm-eaten jokes that had given me the dry gripes when i was a boy thirteen hundred years afterwards. it about convinced me that there isn't any such thing as a new joke possible. everybody laughed at these antiquities --but then they always do; i had noticed that, centuries later. however, of course the scoffer didn't laugh--i mean the boy. no, he scoffed; there wasn't anything he wouldn't scoff at. he said the most of sir dinadan's jokes were rotten and the rest were petrified. i said "petrified" was good; as i believed, myself, that the only right way to classify the majestic ages of some of those jokes was by geologic periods. but that neat idea hit the boy in a blank place, for geology hadn't been invented yet. however, i made a note of the remark, and calculated to educate the commonwealth up to it if i pulled through. it is no use to throw a good thing away merely because the market isn't ripe yet. now sir kay arose and began to fire up on his history-mill with me for fuel. it was time for me to feel serious, and i did. sir kay told how he had encountered me in a far land of barbarians, who all wore the same ridiculous garb that i did--a garb that was a work of enchantment, and intended to make the wearer secure from hurt by human hands. however he had nullified the force of the enchantment by prayer, and had killed my thirteen knights in a three hours' battle, and taken me prisoner, sparing my life in order that so strange a curiosity as i was might be exhibited to the wonder and admiration of the king and the court. he spoke of me all the time, in the blandest way, as "this prodigious giant," and "this horrible sky-towering monster," and "this tusked and taloned man-devouring ogre", and everybody took in all this bosh in the naivest way, and never smiled or seemed to notice that there was any discrepancy between these watered statistics and me. he said that in trying to escape from him i sprang into the top of a tree two hundred cubits high at a single bound, but he dislodged me with a stone the size of a cow, which "all-to brast" the most of my bones, and then swore me to appear at arthur's court for sentence. he ended by condemning me to die at noon on the 21st; and was so little concerned about it that he stopped to yawn before he named the date. i was in a dismal state by this time; indeed, i was hardly enough in my right mind to keep the run of a dispute that sprung up as to how i had better be killed, the possibility of the killing being doubted by some, because of the enchantment in my clothes. and yet it was nothing but an ordinary suit of fifteen-dollar slop-shops. still, i was sane enough to notice this detail, to wit: many of the terms used in the most matter-of-fact way by this great assemblage of the first ladies and gentlemen in the land would have made a comanche blush. indelicacy is too mild a term to convey the idea. however, i had read "tom jones," and "roderick random," and other books of that kind, and knew that the highest and first ladies and gentlemen in england had remained little or no cleaner in their talk, and in the morals and conduct which such talk implies, clear up to a hundred years ago; in fact clear into our own nineteenth century--in which century, broadly speaking, the earliest samples of the real lady and real gentleman discoverable in english history--or in european history, for that matter--may be said to have made their appearance. suppose sir walter, instead of putting the conversations into the mouths of his characters, had allowed the characters to speak for themselves? we should have had talk from rebecca and ivanhoe and the soft lady rowena which would embarrass a tramp in our day. however, to the unconsciously indelicate all things are delicate. king arthur's people were not aware that they were indecent and i had presence of mind enough not to mention it. they were so troubled about my enchanted clothes that they were mightily relieved, at last, when old merlin swept the difficulty away for them with a common-sense hint. he asked them why they were so dull--why didn't it occur to them to strip me. in half a minute i was as naked as a pair of tongs! and dear, dear, to think of it: i was the only embarrassed person there. everybody discussed me; and did it as unconcernedly as if i had been a cabbage. queen guenever was as naively interested as the rest, and said she had never seen anybody with legs just like mine before. it was the only compliment i got--if it was a compliment. finally i was carried off in one direction, and my perilous clothes in another. i was shoved into a dark and narrow cell in a dungeon, with some scant remnants for dinner, some moldy straw for a bed, and no end of rats for company. chapter v an inspiration i was so tired that even my fears were not able to keep me awake long. when i next came to myself, i seemed to have been asleep a very long time. my first thought was, "well, what an astonishing dream i've had! i reckon i've waked only just in time to keep from being hanged or drowned or burned or something.... i'll nap again till the whistle blows, and then i'll go down to the arms factory and have it out with hercules." but just then i heard the harsh music of rusty chains and bolts, a light flashed in my eyes, and that butterfly, clarence, stood before me! i gasped with surprise; my breath almost got away from me. "what!" i said, "you here yet? go along with the rest of the dream! scatter!" but he only laughed, in his light-hearted way, and fell to making fun of my sorry plight. "all right," i said resignedly, "let the dream go on; i'm in no hurry." "prithee what dream?" "what dream? why, the dream that i am in arthur's court--a person who never existed; and that i am talking to you, who are nothing but a work of the imagination." "oh, la, indeed! and is it a dream that you're to be burned to-morrow? ho-ho--answer me that!" the shock that went through me was distressing. i now began to reason that my situation was in the last degree serious, dream or no dream; for i knew by past experience of the lifelike intensity of dreams, that to be burned to death, even in a dream, would be very far from being a jest, and was a thing to be avoided, by any means, fair or foul, that i could contrive. so i said beseechingly: "ah, clarence, good boy, only friend i've got,--for you _are_ my friend, aren't you?--don't fail me; help me to devise some way of escaping from this place!" "now do but hear thyself! escape? why, man, the corridors are in guard and keep of men-at-arms." "no doubt, no doubt. but how many, clarence? not many, i hope?" "full a score. one may not hope to escape." after a pause --hesitatingly: "and there be other reasons--and weightier." "other ones? what are they?" "well, they say--oh, but i daren't, indeed daren't!" "why, poor lad, what is the matter? why do you blench? why do you tremble so?" "oh, in sooth, there is need! i do want to tell you, but--" "come, come, be brave, be a man--speak out, there's a good lad!" he hesitated, pulled one way by desire, the other way by fear; then he stole to the door and peeped out, listening; and finally crept close to me and put his mouth to my ear and told me his fearful news in a whisper, and with all the cowering apprehension of one who was venturing upon awful ground and speaking of things whose very mention might be freighted with death. "merlin, in his malice, has woven a spell about this dungeon, and there bides not the man in these kingdoms that would be desperate enough to essay to cross its lines with you! now god pity me, i have told it! ah, be kind to me, be merciful to a poor boy who means thee well; for an thou betray me i am lost!" i laughed the only really refreshing laugh i had had for some time; and shouted: "merlin has wrought a spell! _merlin_, forsooth! that cheap old humbug, that maundering old ass? bosh, pure bosh, the silliest bosh in the world! why, it does seem to me that of all the childish, idiotic, chuckle-headed, chicken-livered superstitions that ev --oh, damn merlin!" but clarence had slumped to his knees before i had half finished, and he was like to go out of his mind with fright. "oh, beware! these are awful words! any moment these walls may crumble upon us if you say such things. oh call them back before it is too late!" now this strange exhibition gave me a good idea and set me to thinking. if everybody about here was so honestly and sincerely afraid of merlin's pretended magic as clarence was, certainly a superior man like me ought to be shrewd enough to contrive some way to take advantage of such a state of things. i went on thinking, and worked out a plan. then i said: "get up. pull yourself together; look me in the eye. do you know why i laughed?" "no--but for our blessed lady's sake, do it no more." "well, i'll tell you why i laughed. because i'm a magician myself." "thou!" the boy recoiled a step, and caught his breath, for the thing hit him rather sudden; but the aspect which he took on was very, very respectful. i took quick note of that; it indicated that a humbug didn't need to have a reputation in this asylum; people stood ready to take him at his word, without that. i resumed. "i've known merlin seven hundred years, and he--" "seven hun--" "don't interrupt me. he has died and come alive again thirteen times, and traveled under a new name every time: smith, jones, robinson, jackson, peters, haskins, merlin--a new alias every time he turns up. i knew him in egypt three hundred years ago; i knew him in india five hundred years ago--he is always blethering around in my way, everywhere i go; he makes me tired. he don't amount to shucks, as a magician; knows some of the old common tricks, but has never got beyond the rudiments, and never will. he is well enough for the provinces--one-night stands and that sort of thing, you know--but dear me, _he_ oughtn't to set up for an expert--anyway not where there's a real artist. now look here, clarence, i am going to stand your friend, right along, and in return you must be mine. i want you to do me a favor. i want you to get word to the king that i am a magician myself--and the supreme grand high-yu-muck-amuck and head of the tribe, at that; and i want him to be made to understand that i am just quietly arranging a little calamity here that will make the fur fly in these realms if sir kay's project is carried out and any harm comes to me. will you get that to the king for me?" the poor boy was in such a state that he could hardly answer me. it was pitiful to see a creature so terrified, so unnerved, so demoralized. but he promised everything; and on my side he made me promise over and over again that i would remain his friend, and never turn against him or cast any enchantments upon him. then he worked his way out, staying himself with his hand along the wall, like a sick person. presently this thought occurred to me: how heedless i have been! when the boy gets calm, he will wonder why a great magician like me should have begged a boy like him to help me get out of this place; he will put this and that together, and will see that i am a humbug. i worried over that heedless blunder for an hour, and called myself a great many hard names, meantime. but finally it occurred to me all of a sudden that these animals didn't reason; that _they_ never put this and that together; that all their talk showed that they didn't know a discrepancy when they saw it. i was at rest, then. but as soon as one is at rest, in this world, off he goes on something else to worry about. it occurred to me that i had made another blunder: i had sent the boy off to alarm his betters with a threat--i intending to invent a calamity at my leisure; now the people who are the readiest and eagerest and willingest to swallow miracles are the very ones who are hungriest to see you perform them; suppose i should be called on for a sample? suppose i should be asked to name my calamity? yes, i had made a blunder; i ought to have invented my calamity first. "what shall i do? what can i say, to gain a little time?" i was in trouble again; in the deepest kind of trouble... "there's a footstep!--they're coming. if i had only just a moment to think.... good, i've got it. i'm all right." you see, it was the eclipse. it came into my mind in the nick of time, how columbus, or cortez, or one of those people, played an eclipse as a saving trump once, on some savages, and i saw my chance. i could play it myself, now, and it wouldn't be any plagiarism, either, because i should get it in nearly a thousand years ahead of those parties. clarence came in, subdued, distressed, and said: "i hasted the message to our liege the king, and straightway he had me to his presence. he was frighted even to the marrow, and was minded to give order for your instant enlargement, and that you be clothed in fine raiment and lodged as befitted one so great; but then came merlin and spoiled all; for he persuaded the king that you are mad, and know not whereof you speak; and said your threat is but foolishness and idle vaporing. they disputed long, but in the end, merlin, scoffing, said, 'wherefore hath he not _named_ his brave calamity? verily it is because he cannot.' this thrust did in a most sudden sort close the king's mouth, and he could offer naught to turn the argument; and so, reluctant, and full loth to do you the discourtesy, he yet prayeth you to consider his perplexed case, as noting how the matter stands, and name the calamity--if so be you have determined the nature of it and the time of its coming. oh, prithee delay not; to delay at such a time were to double and treble the perils that already compass thee about. oh, be thou wise--name the calamity!" i allowed silence to accumulate while i got my impressiveness together, and then said: "how long have i been shut up in this hole?" "ye were shut up when yesterday was well spent. it is 9 of the morning now." "no! then i have slept well, sure enough. nine in the morning now! and yet it is the very complexion of midnight, to a shade. this is the 20th, then?" "the 20th--yes." "and i am to be burned alive to-morrow." the boy shuddered. "at what hour?" "at high noon." "now then, i will tell you what to say." i paused, and stood over that cowering lad a whole minute in awful silence; then, in a voice deep, measured, charged with doom, i began, and rose by dramatically graded stages to my colossal climax, which i delivered in as sublime and noble a way as ever i did such a thing in my life: "go back and tell the king that at that hour i will smother the whole world in the dead blackness of midnight; i will blot out the sun, and he shall never shine again; the fruits of the earth shall rot for lack of light and warmth, and the peoples of the earth shall famish and die, to the last man!" i had to carry the boy out myself, he sunk into such a collapse. i handed him over to the soldiers, and went back. chapter vi the eclipse in the stillness and the darkness, realization soon began to supplement knowledge. the mere knowledge of a fact is pale; but when you come to _realize_ your fact, it takes on color. it is all the difference between hearing of a man being stabbed to the heart, and seeing it done. in the stillness and the darkness, the knowledge that i was in deadly danger took to itself deeper and deeper meaning all the time; a something which was realization crept inch by inch through my veins and turned me cold. but it is a blessed provision of nature that at times like these, as soon as a man's mercury has got down to a certain point there comes a revulsion, and he rallies. hope springs up, and cheerfulness along with it, and then he is in good shape to do something for himself, if anything can be done. when my rally came, it came with a bound. i said to myself that my eclipse would be sure to save me, and make me the greatest man in the kingdom besides; and straightway my mercury went up to the top of the tube, and my solicitudes all vanished. i was as happy a man as there was in the world. i was even impatient for to-morrow to come, i so wanted to gather in that great triumph and be the center of all the nation's wonder and reverence. besides, in a business way it would be the making of me; i knew that. meantime there was one thing which had got pushed into the background of my mind. that was the half-conviction that when the nature of my proposed calamity should be reported to those superstitious people, it would have such an effect that they would want to compromise. so, by and by when i heard footsteps coming, that thought was recalled to me, and i said to myself, "as sure as anything, it's the compromise. well, if it is good, all right, i will accept; but if it isn't, i mean to stand my ground and play my hand for all it is worth." the door opened, and some men-at-arms appeared. the leader said: "the stake is ready. come!" the stake! the strength went out of me, and i almost fell down. it is hard to get one's breath at such a time, such lumps come into one's throat, and such gaspings; but as soon as i could speak, i said: "but this is a mistake--the execution is to-morrow." "order changed; been set forward a day. haste thee!" i was lost. there was no help for me. i was dazed, stupefied; i had no command over myself, i only wandered purposely about, like one out of his mind; so the soldiers took hold of me, and pulled me along with them, out of the cell and along the maze of underground corridors, and finally into the fierce glare of daylight and the upper world. as we stepped into the vast enclosed court of the castle i got a shock; for the first thing i saw was the stake, standing in the center, and near it the piled fagots and a monk. on all four sides of the court the seated multitudes rose rank above rank, forming sloping terraces that were rich with color. the king and the queen sat in their thrones, the most conspicuous figures there, of course. to note all this, occupied but a second. the next second clarence had slipped from some place of concealment and was pouring news into my ear, his eyes beaming with triumph and gladness. he said: "tis through _me_ the change was wrought! and main hard have i worked to do it, too. but when i revealed to them the calamity in store, and saw how mighty was the terror it did engender, then saw i also that this was the time to strike! wherefore i diligently pretended, unto this and that and the other one, that your power against the sun could not reach its full until the morrow; and so if any would save the sun and the world, you must be slain to-day, while your enchantments are but in the weaving and lack potency. odsbodikins, it was but a dull lie, a most indifferent invention, but you should have seen them seize it and swallow it, in the frenzy of their fright, as it were salvation sent from heaven; and all the while was i laughing in my sleeve the one moment, to see them so cheaply deceived, and glorifying god the next, that he was content to let the meanest of his creatures be his instrument to the saving of thy life. ah how happy has the matter sped! you will not need to do the sun a _real_ hurt--ah, forget not that, on your soul forget it not! only make a little darkness--only the littlest little darkness, mind, and cease with that. it will be sufficient. they will see that i spoke falsely,--being ignorant, as they will fancy --and with the falling of the first shadow of that darkness you shall see them go mad with fear; and they will set you free and make you great! go to thy triumph, now! but remember--ah, good friend, i implore thee remember my supplication, and do the blessed sun no hurt. for _my_ sake, thy true friend." i choked out some words through my grief and misery; as much as to say i would spare the sun; for which the lad's eyes paid me back with such deep and loving gratitude that i had not the heart to tell him his good-hearted foolishness had ruined me and sent me to my death. as the soldiers assisted me across the court the stillness was so profound that if i had been blindfold i should have supposed i was in a solitude instead of walled in by four thousand people. there was not a movement perceptible in those masses of humanity; they were as rigid as stone images, and as pale; and dread sat upon every countenance. this hush continued while i was being chained to the stake; it still continued while the fagots were carefully and tediously piled about my ankles, my knees, my thighs, my body. then there was a pause, and a deeper hush, if possible, and a man knelt down at my feet with a blazing torch; the multitude strained forward, gazing, and parting slightly from their seats without knowing it; the monk raised his hands above my head, and his eyes toward the blue sky, and began some words in latin; in this attitude he droned on and on, a little while, and then stopped. i waited two or three moments; then looked up; he was standing there petrified. with a common impulse the multitude rose slowly up and stared into the sky. i followed their eyes, as sure as guns, there was my eclipse beginning! the life went boiling through my veins; i was a new man! the rim of black spread slowly into the sun's disk, my heart beat higher and higher, and still the assemblage and the priest stared into the sky, motionless. i knew that this gaze would be turned upon me, next. when it was, i was ready. i was in one of the most grand attitudes i ever struck, with my arm stretched up pointing to the sun. it was a noble effect. you could _see_ the shudder sweep the mass like a wave. two shouts rang out, one close upon the heels of the other: "apply the torch!" "i forbid it!" the one was from merlin, the other from the king. merlin started from his place--to apply the torch himself, i judged. i said: "stay where you are. if any man moves--even the king--before i give him leave, i will blast him with thunder, i will consume him with lightnings!" the multitude sank meekly into their seats, and i was just expecting they would. merlin hesitated a moment or two, and i was on pins and needles during that little while. then he sat down, and i took a good breath; for i knew i was master of the situation now. the king said: "be merciful, fair sir, and essay no further in this perilous matter, lest disaster follow. it was reported to us that your powers could not attain unto their full strength until the morrow; but--" "your majesty thinks the report may have been a lie? it _was_ a lie." that made an immense effect; up went appealing hands everywhere, and the king was assailed with a storm of supplications that i might be bought off at any price, and the calamity stayed. the king was eager to comply. he said: "name any terms, reverend sir, even to the halving of my kingdom; but banish this calamity, spare the sun!" my fortune was made. i would have taken him up in a minute, but i couldn't stop an eclipse; the thing was out of the question. so i asked time to consider. the king said: "how long--ah, how long, good sir? be merciful; look, it groweth darker, moment by moment. prithee how long?" "not long. half an hour--maybe an hour." there were a thousand pathetic protests, but i couldn't shorten up any, for i couldn't remember how long a total eclipse lasts. i was in a puzzled condition, anyway, and wanted to think. something was wrong about that eclipse, and the fact was very unsettling. if this wasn't the one i was after, how was i to tell whether this was the sixth century, or nothing but a dream? dear me, if i could only prove it was the latter! here was a glad new hope. if the boy was right about the date, and this was surely the 20th, it _wasn't_ the sixth century. i reached for the monk's sleeve, in considerable excitement, and asked him what day of the month it was. hang him, he said it was the _twenty-first_! it made me turn cold to hear him. i begged him not to make any mistake about it; but he was sure; he knew it was the 21st. so, that feather-headed boy had botched things again! the time of the day was right for the eclipse; i had seen that for myself, in the beginning, by the dial that was near by. yes, i was in king arthur's court, and i might as well make the most out of it i could. the darkness was steadily growing, the people becoming more and more distressed. i now said: "i have reflected, sir king. for a lesson, i will let this darkness proceed, and spread night in the world; but whether i blot out the sun for good, or restore it, shall rest with you. these are the terms, to wit: you shall remain king over all your dominions, and receive all the glories and honors that belong to the kingship; but you shall appoint me your perpetual minister and executive, and give me for my services one per cent of such actual increase of revenue over and above its present amount as i may succeed in creating for the state. if i can't live on that, i sha'n't ask anybody to give me a lift. is it satisfactory?" there was a prodigious roar of applause, and out of the midst of it the king's voice rose, saying: "away with his bonds, and set him free! and do him homage, high and low, rich and poor, for he is become the king's right hand, is clothed with power and authority, and his seat is upon the highest step of the throne! now sweep away this creeping night, and bring the light and cheer again, that all the world may bless thee." but i said: "that a common man should be shamed before the world, is nothing; but it were dishonor to the _king_ if any that saw his minister naked should not also see him delivered from his shame. if i might ask that my clothes be brought again--" "they are not meet," the king broke in. "fetch raiment of another sort; clothe him like a prince!" my idea worked. i wanted to keep things as they were till the eclipse was total, otherwise they would be trying again to get me to dismiss the darkness, and of course i couldn't do it. sending for the clothes gained some delay, but not enough. so i had to make another excuse. i said it would be but natural if the king should change his mind and repent to some extent of what he had done under excitement; therefore i would let the darkness grow a while, and if at the end of a reasonable time the king had kept his mind the same, the darkness should be dismissed. neither the king nor anybody else was satisfied with that arrangement, but i had to stick to my point. it grew darker and darker and blacker and blacker, while i struggled with those awkward sixth-century clothes. it got to be pitch dark, at last, and the multitude groaned with horror to feel the cold uncanny night breezes fan through the place and see the stars come out and twinkle in the sky. at last the eclipse was total, and i was very glad of it, but everybody else was in misery; which was quite natural. i said: "the king, by his silence, still stands to the terms." then i lifted up my hands--stood just so a moment--then i said, with the most awful solemnity: "let the enchantment dissolve and pass harmless away!" there was no response, for a moment, in that deep darkness and that graveyard hush. but when the silver rim of the sun pushed itself out, a moment or two later, the assemblage broke loose with a vast shout and came pouring down like a deluge to smother me with blessings and gratitude; and clarence was not the last of the wash, to be sure. a connecticut yankee in king arthur's court by mark twain (samuel l. clemens) part 6. chapter xxvii the yankee and the king travel incognito about bedtime i took the king to my private quarters to cut his hair and help him get the hang of the lowly raiment he was to wear. the high classes wore their hair banged across the forehead but hanging to the shoulders the rest of the way around, whereas the lowest ranks of commoners were banged fore and aft both; the slaves were bangless, and allowed their hair free growth. so i inverted a bowl over his head and cut away all the locks that hung below it. i also trimmed his whiskers and mustache until they were only about a half-inch long; and tried to do it inartistically, and succeeded. it was a villainous disfigurement. when he got his lubberly sandals on, and his long robe of coarse brown linen cloth, which hung straight from his neck to his ankle-bones, he was no longer the comeliest man in his kingdom, but one of the unhandsomest and most commonplace and unattractive. we were dressed and barbered alike, and could pass for small farmers, or farm bailiffs, or shepherds, or carters; yes, or for village artisans, if we chose, our costume being in effect universal among the poor, because of its strength and cheapness. i don't mean that it was really cheap to a very poor person, but i do mean that it was the cheapest material there was for male attire--manufactured material, you understand. we slipped away an hour before dawn, and by broad sun-up had made eight or ten miles, and were in the midst of a sparsely settled country. i had a pretty heavy knapsack; it was laden with provisions--provisions for the king to taper down on, till he could take to the coarse fare of the country without damage. i found a comfortable seat for the king by the roadside, and then gave him a morsel or two to stay his stomach with. then i said i would find some water for him, and strolled away. part of my project was to get out of sight and sit down and rest a little myself. it had always been my custom to stand when in his presence; even at the council board, except upon those rare occasions when the sitting was a very long one, extending over hours; then i had a trifling little backless thing which was like a reversed culvert and was as comfortable as the toothache. i didn't want to break him in suddenly, but do it by degrees. we should have to sit together now when in company, or people would notice; but it would not be good politics for me to be playing equality with him when there was no necessity for it. i found the water some three hundred yards away, and had been resting about twenty minutes, when i heard voices. that is all right, i thought--peasants going to work; nobody else likely to be stirring this early. but the next moment these comers jingled into sight around a turn of the road--smartly clad people of quality, with luggage-mules and servants in their train! i was off like a shot, through the bushes, by the shortest cut. for a while it did seem that these people would pass the king before i could get to him; but desperation gives you wings, you know, and i canted my body forward, inflated my breast, and held my breath and flew. i arrived. and in plenty good enough time, too. "pardon, my king, but it's no time for ceremony--jump! jump to your feet--some quality are coming!" "is that a marvel? let them come." "but my liege! you must not be seen sitting. rise!--and stand in humble posture while they pass. you are a peasant, you know." "true--i had forgot it, so lost was i in planning of a huge war with gaul"--he was up by this time, but a farm could have got up quicker, if there was any kind of a boom in real estate--"and right-so a thought came randoming overthwart this majestic dream the which--" "a humbler attitude, my lord the king--and quick! duck your head! --more!--still more!--droop it!" he did his honest best, but lord, it was no great things. he looked as humble as the leaning tower at pisa. it is the most you could say of it. indeed, it was such a thundering poor success that it raised wondering scowls all along the line, and a gorgeous flunkey at the tail end of it raised his whip; but i jumped in time and was under it when it fell; and under cover of the volley of coarse laughter which followed, i spoke up sharply and warned the king to take no notice. he mastered himself for the moment, but it was a sore tax; he wanted to eat up the procession. i said: "it would end our adventures at the very start; and we, being without weapons, could do nothing with that armed gang. if we are going to succeed in our emprise, we must not only look the peasant but act the peasant." "it is wisdom; none can gainsay it. let us go on, sir boss. i will take note and learn, and do the best i may." he kept his word. he did the best he could, but i've seen better. if you have ever seen an active, heedless, enterprising child going diligently out of one mischief and into another all day long, and an anxious mother at its heels all the while, and just saving it by a hair from drowning itself or breaking its neck with each new experiment, you've seen the king and me. if i could have foreseen what the thing was going to be like, i should have said, no, if anybody wants to make his living exhibiting a king as a peasant, let him take the layout; i can do better with a menagerie, and last longer. and yet, during the first three days i never allowed him to enter a hut or other dwelling. if he could pass muster anywhere during his early novitiate it would be in small inns and on the road; so to these places we confined ourselves. yes, he certainly did the best he could, but what of that? he didn't improve a bit that i could see. he was always frightening me, always breaking out with fresh astonishers, in new and unexpected places. toward evening on the second day, what does he do but blandly fetch out a dirk from inside his robe! "great guns, my liege, where did you get that?" "from a smuggler at the inn, yester eve." "what in the world possessed you to buy it?" "we have escaped divers dangers by wit--thy wit--but i have bethought me that it were but prudence if i bore a weapon, too. thine might fail thee in some pinch." "but people of our condition are not allowed to carry arms. what would a lord say--yes, or any other person of whatever condition --if he caught an upstart peasant with a dagger on his person?" it was a lucky thing for us that nobody came along just then. i persuaded him to throw the dirk away; and it was as easy as persuading a child to give up some bright fresh new way of killing itself. we walked along, silent and thinking. finally the king said: "when ye know that i meditate a thing inconvenient, or that hath a peril in it, why do you not warn me to cease from that project?" it was a startling question, and a puzzler. i didn't quite know how to take hold of it, or what to say, and so, of course, i ended by saying the natural thing: "but, sire, how can i know what your thoughts are?" the king stopped dead in his tracks, and stared at me. "i believed thou wert greater than merlin; and truly in magic thou art. but prophecy is greater than magic. merlin is a prophet." i saw i had made a blunder. i must get back my lost ground. after a deep reflection and careful planning, i said: "sire, i have been misunderstood. i will explain. there are two kinds of prophecy. one is the gift to foretell things that are but a little way off, the other is the gift to foretell things that are whole ages and centuries away. which is the mightier gift, do you think?" "oh, the last, most surely!" "true. does merlin possess it?" "partly, yes. he foretold mysteries about my birth and future kingship that were twenty years away." "has he ever gone beyond that?" "he would not claim more, i think." "it is probably his limit. all prophets have their limit. the limit of some of the great prophets has been a hundred years." "these are few, i ween." "there have been two still greater ones, whose limit was four hundred and six hundred years, and one whose limit compassed even seven hundred and twenty." "gramercy, it is marvelous!" "but what are these in comparison with me? they are nothing." "what? canst thou truly look beyond even so vast a stretch of time as--" "seven hundred years? my liege, as clear as the vision of an eagle does my prophetic eye penetrate and lay bare the future of this world for nearly thirteen centuries and a half!" my land, you should have seen the king's eyes spread slowly open, and lift the earth's entire atmosphere as much as an inch! that settled brer merlin. one never had any occasion to prove his facts, with these people; all he had to do was to state them. it never occurred to anybody to doubt the statement. "now, then," i continued, "i _could_ work both kinds of prophecy --the long and the short--if i chose to take the trouble to keep in practice; but i seldom exercise any but the long kind, because the other is beneath my dignity. it is properer to merlin's sort --stump-tail prophets, as we call them in the profession. of course, i whet up now and then and flirt out a minor prophecy, but not often--hardly ever, in fact. you will remember that there was great talk, when you reached the valley of holiness, about my having prophesied your coming and the very hour of your arrival, two or three days beforehand." "indeed, yes, i mind it now." "well, i could have done it as much as forty times easier, and piled on a thousand times more detail into the bargain, if it had been five hundred years away instead of two or three days." "how amazing that it should be so!" "yes, a genuine expert can always foretell a thing that is five hundred years away easier than he can a thing that's only five hundred seconds off." "and yet in reason it should clearly be the other way; it should be five hundred times as easy to foretell the last as the first, for, indeed, it is so close by that one uninspired might almost see it. in truth, the law of prophecy doth contradict the likelihoods, most strangely making the difficult easy, and the easy difficult." it was a wise head. a peasant's cap was no safe disguise for it; you could know it for a king's under a diving-bell, if you could hear it work its intellect. i had a new trade now, and plenty of business in it. the king was as hungry to find out everything that was going to happen during the next thirteen centuries as if he were expecting to live in them. from that time out, i prophesied myself bald-headed trying to supply the demand. i have done some indiscreet things in my day, but this thing of playing myself for a prophet was the worst. still, it had its ameliorations. a prophet doesn't have to have any brains. they are good to have, of course, for the ordinary exigencies of life, but they are no use in professional work. it is the restfulest vocation there is. when the spirit of prophecy comes upon you, you merely cake your intellect and lay it off in a cool place for a rest, and unship your jaw and leave it alone; it will work itself: the result is prophecy. every day a knight-errant or so came along, and the sight of them fired the king's martial spirit every time. he would have forgotten himself, sure, and said something to them in a style a suspicious shade or so above his ostensible degree, and so i always got him well out of the road in time. then he would stand and look with all his eyes; and a proud light would flash from them, and his nostrils would inflate like a war-horse's, and i knew he was longing for a brush with them. but about noon of the third day i had stopped in the road to take a precaution which had been suggested by the whip-stroke that had fallen to my share two days before; a precaution which i had afterward decided to leave untaken, i was so loath to institute it; but now i had just had a fresh reminder: while striding heedlessly along, with jaw spread and intellect at rest, for i was prophesying, i stubbed my toe and fell sprawling. i was so pale i couldn't think for a moment; then i got softly and carefully up and unstrapped my knapsack. i had that dynamite bomb in it, done up in wool in a box. it was a good thing to have along; the time would come when i could do a valuable miracle with it, maybe, but it was a nervous thing to have about me, and i didn't like to ask the king to carry it. yet i must either throw it away or think up some safe way to get along with its society. i got it out and slipped it into my scrip, and just then here came a couple of knights. the king stood, stately as a statue, gazing toward them--had forgotten himself again, of course--and before i could get a word of warning out, it was time for him to skip, and well that he did it, too. he supposed they would turn aside. turn aside to avoid trampling peasant dirt under foot? when had he ever turned aside himself--or ever had the chance to do it, if a peasant saw him or any other noble knight in time to judiciously save him the trouble? the knights paid no attention to the king at all; it was his place to look out himself, and if he hadn't skipped he would have been placidly ridden down, and laughed at besides. the king was in a flaming fury, and launched out his challenge and epithets with a most royal vigor. the knights were some little distance by now. they halted, greatly surprised, and turned in their saddles and looked back, as if wondering if it might be worth while to bother with such scum as we. then they wheeled and started for us. not a moment must be lost. i started for _them_. i passed them at a rattling gait, and as i went by i flung out a hair-lifting soul-scorching thirteen-jointed insult which made the king's effort poor and cheap by comparison. i got it out of the nineteenth century where they know how. they had such headway that they were nearly to the king before they could check up; then, frantic with rage, they stood up their horses on their hind hoofs and whirled them around, and the next moment here they came, breast to breast. i was seventy yards off, then, and scrambling up a great bowlder at the roadside. when they were within thirty yards of me they let their long lances droop to a level, depressed their mailed heads, and so, with their horse-hair plumes streaming straight out behind, most gallant to see, this lightning express came tearing for me! when they were within fifteen yards, i sent that bomb with a sure aim, and it struck the ground just under the horses' noses. yes, it was a neat thing, very neat and pretty to see. it resembled a steamboat explosion on the mississippi; and during the next fifteen minutes we stood under a steady drizzle of microscopic fragments of knights and hardware and horse-flesh. i say we, for the king joined the audience, of course, as soon as he had got his breath again. there was a hole there which would afford steady work for all the people in that region for some years to come --in trying to explain it, i mean; as for filling it up, that service would be comparatively prompt, and would fall to the lot of a select few--peasants of that seignory; and they wouldn't get anything for it, either. but i explained it to the king myself. i said it was done with a dynamite bomb. this information did him no damage, because it left him as intelligent as he was before. however, it was a noble miracle, in his eyes, and was another settler for merlin. i thought it well enough to explain that this was a miracle of so rare a sort that it couldn't be done except when the atmospheric conditions were just right. otherwise he would be encoring it every time we had a good subject, and that would be inconvenient, because i hadn't any more bombs along. chapter xxviii drilling the king on the morning of the fourth day, when it was just sunrise, and we had been tramping an hour in the chill dawn, i came to a resolution: the king _must_ be drilled; things could not go on so, he must be taken in hand and deliberately and conscientiously drilled, or we couldn't ever venture to enter a dwelling; the very cats would know this masquerader for a humbug and no peasant. so i called a halt and said: "sire, as between clothes and countenance, you are all right, there is no discrepancy; but as between your clothes and your bearing, you are all wrong, there is a most noticeable discrepancy. your soldierly stride, your lordly port--these will not do. you stand too straight, your looks are too high, too confident. the cares of a kingdom do not stoop the shoulders, they do not droop the chin, they do not depress the high level of the eye-glance, they do not put doubt and fear in the heart and hang out the signs of them in slouching body and unsure step. it is the sordid cares of the lowly born that do these things. you must learn the trick; you must imitate the trademarks of poverty, misery, oppression, insult, and the other several and common inhumanities that sap the manliness out of a man and make him a loyal and proper and approved subject and a satisfaction to his masters, or the very infants will know you for better than your disguise, and we shall go to pieces at the first hut we stop at. pray try to walk like this." the king took careful note, and then tried an imitation. "pretty fair--pretty fair. chin a little lower, please--there, very good. eyes too high; pray don't look at the horizon, look at the ground, ten steps in front of you. ah--that is better, that is very good. wait, please; you betray too much vigor, too much decision; you want more of a shamble. look at me, please--this is what i mean.... now you are getting it; that is the idea--at least, it sort of approaches it.... yes, that is pretty fair. _but!_ there is a great big something wanting, i don't quite know what it is. please walk thirty yards, so that i can get a perspective on the thing.... now, then--your head's right, speed's right, shoulders right, eyes right, chin right, gait, carriage, general style right--everything's right! and yet the fact remains, the aggregate's wrong. the account don't balance. do it again, please.... _now_ i think i begin to see what it is. yes, i've struck it. you see, the genuine spiritlessness is wanting; that's what's the trouble. it's all _amateur_--mechanical details all right, almost to a hair; everything about the delusion perfect, except that it don't delude." "what, then, must one do, to prevail?" "let me think... i can't seem to quite get at it. in fact, there isn't anything that can right the matter but practice. this is a good place for it: roots and stony ground to break up your stately gait, a region not liable to interruption, only one field and one hut in sight, and they so far away that nobody could see us from there. it will be well to move a little off the road and put in the whole day drilling you, sire." after the drill had gone on a little while, i said: "now, sire, imagine that we are at the door of the hut yonder, and the family are before us. proceed, please--accost the head of the house." the king unconsciously straightened up like a monument, and said, with frozen austerity: "varlet, bring a seat; and serve to me what cheer ye have." "ah, your grace, that is not well done." "in what lacketh it?" "these people do not call _each other_ varlets." "nay, is that true?" "yes; only those above them call them so." "then must i try again. i will call him villein." "no-no; for he may be a freeman." "ah--so. then peradventure i should call him goodman." "that would answer, your grace, but it would be still better if you said friend, or brother." "brother!--to dirt like that?" "ah, but _we_ are pretending to be dirt like that, too." "it is even true. i will say it. brother, bring a seat, and thereto what cheer ye have, withal. now 'tis right." "not quite, not wholly right. you have asked for one, not _us_ --for one, not both; food for one, a seat for one." the king looked puzzled--he wasn't a very heavy weight, intellectually. his head was an hour-glass; it could stow an idea, but it had to do it a grain at a time, not the whole idea at once. "would _you_ have a seat also--and sit?" "if i did not sit, the man would perceive that we were only pretending to be equals--and playing the deception pretty poorly, too." "it is well and truly said! how wonderful is truth, come it in whatsoever unexpected form it may! yes, he must bring out seats and food for both, and in serving us present not ewer and napkin with more show of respect to the one than to the other." "and there is even yet a detail that needs correcting. he must bring nothing outside; we will go in--in among the dirt, and possibly other repulsive things,--and take the food with the household, and after the fashion of the house, and all on equal terms, except the man be of the serf class; and finally, there will be no ewer and no napkin, whether he be serf or free. please walk again, my liege. there--it is better--it is the best yet; but not perfect. the shoulders have known no ignobler burden than iron mail, and they will not stoop." "give me, then, the bag. i will learn the spirit that goeth with burdens that have not honor. it is the spirit that stoopeth the shoulders, i ween, and not the weight; for armor is heavy, yet it is a proud burden, and a man standeth straight in it.... nay, but me no buts, offer me no objections. i will have the thing. strap it upon my back." he was complete now with that knapsack on, and looked as little like a king as any man i had ever seen. but it was an obstinate pair of shoulders; they could not seem to learn the trick of stooping with any sort of deceptive naturalness. the drill went on, i prompting and correcting: "now, make believe you are in debt, and eaten up by relentless creditors; you are out of work--which is horse-shoeing, let us say--and can get none; and your wife is sick, your children are crying because they are hungry--" and so on, and so on. i drilled him as representing in turn all sorts of people out of luck and suffering dire privations and misfortunes. but lord, it was only just words, words--they meant nothing in the world to him, i might just as well have whistled. words realize nothing, vivify nothing to you, unless you have suffered in your own person the thing which the words try to describe. there are wise people who talk ever so knowingly and complacently about "the working classes," and satisfy themselves that a day's hard intellectual work is very much harder than a day's hard manual toil, and is righteously entitled to much bigger pay. why, they really think that, you know, because they know all about the one, but haven't tried the other. but i know all about both; and so far as i am concerned, there isn't money enough in the universe to hire me to swing a pickaxe thirty days, but i will do the hardest kind of intellectual work for just as near nothing as you can cipher it down--and i will be satisfied, too. intellectual "work" is misnamed; it is a pleasure, a dissipation, and is its own highest reward. the poorest paid architect, engineer, general, author, sculptor, painter, lecturer, advocate, legislator, actor, preacher, singer is constructively in heaven when he is at work; and as for the musician with the fiddle-bow in his hand who sits in the midst of a great orchestra with the ebbing and flowing tides of divine sound washing over him--why, certainly, he is at work, if you wish to call it that, but lord, it's a sarcasm just the same. the law of work does seem utterly unfair--but there it is, and nothing can change it: the higher the pay in enjoyment the worker gets out of it, the higher shall be his pay in cash, also. and it's also the very law of those transparent swindles, transmissible nobility and kingship. chapter xxix the smallpox hut when we arrived at that hut at mid-afternoon, we saw no signs of life about it. the field near by had been denuded of its crop some time before, and had a skinned look, so exhaustively had it been harvested and gleaned. fences, sheds, everything had a ruined look, and were eloquent of poverty. no animal was around anywhere, no living thing in sight. the stillness was awful, it was like the stillness of death. the cabin was a one-story one, whose thatch was black with age, and ragged from lack of repair. the door stood a trifle ajar. we approached it stealthily--on tiptoe and at half-breath--for that is the way one's feeling makes him do, at such a time. the king knocked. we waited. no answer. knocked again. no answer. i pushed the door softly open and looked in. i made out some dim forms, and a woman started up from the ground and stared at me, as one does who is wakened from sleep. presently she found her voice: "have mercy!" she pleaded. "all is taken, nothing is left." "i have not come to take anything, poor woman." "you are not a priest?" "no." "nor come not from the lord of the manor?" "no, i am a stranger." "oh, then, for the fear of god, who visits with misery and death such as be harmless, tarry not here, but fly! this place is under his curse--and his church's." "let me come in and help you--you are sick and in trouble." i was better used to the dim light now. i could see her hollow eyes fixed upon me. i could see how emaciated she was. "i tell you the place is under the church's ban. save yourself --and go, before some straggler see thee here, and report it." "give yourself no trouble about me; i don't care anything for the church's curse. let me help you." "now all good spirits--if there be any such--bless thee for that word. would god i had a sup of water!--but hold, hold, forget i said it, and fly; for there is that here that even he that feareth not the church must fear: this disease whereof we die. leave us, thou brave, good stranger, and take with thee such whole and sincere blessing as them that be accursed can give." but before this i had picked up a wooden bowl and was rushing past the king on my way to the brook. it was ten yards away. when i got back and entered, the king was within, and was opening the shutter that closed the window-hole, to let in air and light. the place was full of a foul stench. i put the bowl to the woman's lips, and as she gripped it with her eager talons the shutter came open and a strong light flooded her face. smallpox! i sprang to the king, and said in his ear: "out of the door on the instant, sire! the woman is dying of that disease that wasted the skirts of camelot two years ago." he did not budge. "of a truth i shall remain--and likewise help." i whispered again: "king, it must not be. you must go." "ye mean well, and ye speak not unwisely. but it were shame that a king should know fear, and shame that belted knight should withhold his hand where be such as need succor. peace, i will not go. it is you who must go. the church's ban is not upon me, but it forbiddeth you to be here, and she will deal with you with a heavy hand an word come to her of your trespass." it was a desperate place for him to be in, and might cost him his life, but it was no use to argue with him. if he considered his knightly honor at stake here, that was the end of argument; he would stay, and nothing could prevent it; i was aware of that. and so i dropped the subject. the woman spoke: "fair sir, of your kindness will ye climb the ladder there, and bring me news of what ye find? be not afraid to report, for times can come when even a mother's heart is past breaking --being already broke." "abide," said the king, "and give the woman to eat. i will go." and he put down the knapsack. i turned to start, but the king had already started. he halted, and looked down upon a man who lay in a dim light, and had not noticed us thus far, or spoken. "is it your husband?" the king asked. "yes." "is he asleep?" "god be thanked for that one charity, yes--these three hours. where shall i pay to the full, my gratitude! for my heart is bursting with it for that sleep he sleepeth now." i said: "we will be careful. we will not wake him." "ah, no, that ye will not, for he is dead." "dead?" "yes, what triumph it is to know it! none can harm him, none insult him more. he is in heaven now, and happy; or if not there, he bides in hell and is content; for in that place he will find neither abbot nor yet bishop. we were boy and girl together; we were man and wife these five and twenty years, and never separated till this day. think how long that is to love and suffer together. this morning was he out of his mind, and in his fancy we were boy and girl again and wandering in the happy fields; and so in that innocent glad converse wandered he far and farther, still lightly gossiping, and entered into those other fields we know not of, and was shut away from mortal sight. and so there was no parting, for in his fancy i went with him; he knew not but i went with him, my hand in his--my young soft hand, not this withered claw. ah, yes, to go, and know it not; to separate and know it not; how could one go peace--fuller than that? it was his reward for a cruel life patiently borne." there was a slight noise from the direction of the dim corner where the ladder was. it was the king descending. i could see that he was bearing something in one arm, and assisting himself with the other. he came forward into the light; upon his breast lay a slender girl of fifteen. she was but half conscious; she was dying of smallpox. here was heroism at its last and loftiest possibility, its utmost summit; this was challenging death in the open field unarmed, with all the odds against the challenger, no reward set upon the contest, and no admiring world in silks and cloth of gold to gaze and applaud; and yet the king's bearing was as serenely brave as it had always been in those cheaper contests where knight meets knight in equal fight and clothed in protecting steel. he was great now; sublimely great. the rude statues of his ancestors in his palace should have an addition--i would see to that; and it would not be a mailed king killing a giant or a dragon, like the rest, it would be a king in commoner's garb bearing death in his arms that a peasant mother might look her last upon her child and be comforted. he laid the girl down by her mother, who poured out endearments and caresses from an overflowing heart, and one could detect a flickering faint light of response in the child's eyes, but that was all. the mother hung over her, kissing her, petting her, and imploring her to speak, but the lips only moved and no sound came. i snatched my liquor flask from my knapsack, but the woman forbade me, and said: "no--she does not suffer; it is better so. it might bring her back to life. none that be so good and kind as ye are would do her that cruel hurt. for look you--what is left to live for? her brothers are gone, her father is gone, her mother goeth, the church's curse is upon her, and none may shelter or befriend her even though she lay perishing in the road. she is desolate. i have not asked you, good heart, if her sister be still on live, here overhead; i had no need; ye had gone back, else, and not left the poor thing forsaken--" "she lieth at peace," interrupted the king, in a subdued voice. "i would not change it. how rich is this day in happiness! ah, my annis, thou shalt join thy sister soon--thou'rt on thy way, and these be merciful friends that will not hinder." and so she fell to murmuring and cooing over the girl again, and softly stroking her face and hair, and kissing her and calling her by endearing names; but there was scarcely sign of response now in the glazing eyes. i saw tears well from the king's eyes, and trickle down his face. the woman noticed them, too, and said: "ah, i know that sign: thou'st a wife at home, poor soul, and you and she have gone hungry to bed, many's the time, that the little ones might have your crust; you know what poverty is, and the daily insults of your betters, and the heavy hand of the church and the king." the king winced under this accidental home-shot, but kept still; he was learning his part; and he was playing it well, too, for a pretty dull beginner. i struck up a diversion. i offered the woman food and liquor, but she refused both. she would allow nothing to come between her and the release of death. then i slipped away and brought the dead child from aloft, and laid it by her. this broke her down again, and there was another scene that was full of heartbreak. by and by i made another diversion, and beguiled her to sketch her story. "ye know it well yourselves, having suffered it--for truly none of our condition in britain escape it. it is the old, weary tale. we fought and struggled and succeeded; meaning by success, that we lived and did not die; more than that is not to be claimed. no troubles came that we could not outlive, till this year brought them; then came they all at once, as one might say, and overwhelmed us. years ago the lord of the manor planted certain fruit trees on our farm; in the best part of it, too--a grievous wrong and shame--" "but it was his right," interrupted the king. "none denieth that, indeed; an the law mean anything, what is the lord's is his, and what is mine is his also. our farm was ours by lease, therefore 'twas likewise his, to do with it as he would. some little time ago, three of those trees were found hewn down. our three grown sons ran frightened to report the crime. well, in his lordship's dungeon there they lie, who saith there shall they lie and rot till they confess. they have naught to confess, being innocent, wherefore there will they remain until they die. ye know that right well, i ween. think how this left us; a man, a woman and two children, to gather a crop that was planted by so much greater force, yes, and protect it night and day from pigeons and prowling animals that be sacred and must not be hurt by any of our sort. when my lord's crop was nearly ready for the harvest, so also was ours; when his bell rang to call us to his fields to harvest his crop for nothing, he would not allow that i and my two girls should count for our three captive sons, but for only two of them; so, for the lacking one were we daily fined. all this time our own crop was perishing through neglect; and so both the priest and his lordship fined us because their shares of it were suffering through damage. in the end the fines ate up our crop--and they took it all; they took it all and made us harvest it for them, without pay or food, and we starving. then the worst came when i, being out of my mind with hunger and loss of my boys, and grief to see my husband and my little maids in rags and misery and despair, uttered a deep blasphemy--oh! a thousand of them! --against the church and the church's ways. it was ten days ago. i had fallen sick with this disease, and it was to the priest i said the words, for he was come to chide me for lack of due humility under the chastening hand of god. he carried my trespass to his betters; i was stubborn; wherefore, presently upon my head and upon all heads that were dear to me, fell the curse of rome. "since that day we are avoided, shunned with horror. none has come near this hut to know whether we live or not. the rest of us were taken down. then i roused me and got up, as wife and mother will. it was little they could have eaten in any case; it was less than little they had to eat. but there was water, and i gave them that. how they craved it! and how they blessed it! but the end came yesterday; my strength broke down. yesterday was the last time i ever saw my husband and this youngest child alive. i have lain here all these hours--these ages, ye may say--listening, listening for any sound up there that--" she gave a sharp quick glance at her eldest daughter, then cried out, "oh, my darling!" and feebly gathered the stiffening form to her sheltering arms. she had recognized the death-rattle. chapter xxx the tragedy of the manor-house at midnight all was over, and we sat in the presence of four corpses. we covered them with such rags as we could find, and started away, fastening the door behind us. their home must be these people's grave, for they could not have christian burial, or be admitted to consecrated ground. they were as dogs, wild beasts, lepers, and no soul that valued its hope of eternal life would throw it away by meddling in any sort with these rebuked and smitten outcasts. we had not moved four steps when i caught a sound as of footsteps upon gravel. my heart flew to my throat. we must not be seen coming from that house. i plucked at the king's robe and we drew back and took shelter behind the corner of the cabin. "now we are safe," i said, "but it was a close call--so to speak. if the night had been lighter he might have seen us, no doubt, he seemed to be so near." "mayhap it is but a beast and not a man at all." "true. but man or beast, it will be wise to stay here a minute and let it get by and out of the way." "hark! it cometh hither." true again. the step was coming toward us--straight toward the hut. it must be a beast, then, and we might as well have saved our trepidation. i was going to step out, but the king laid his hand upon my arm. there was a moment of silence, then we heard a soft knock on the cabin door. it made me shiver. presently the knock was repeated, and then we heard these words in a guarded voice: "mother! father! open--we have got free, and we bring news to pale your cheeks but glad your hearts; and we may not tarry, but must fly! and--but they answer not. mother! father!--" i drew the king toward the other end of the hut and whispered: "come--now we can get to the road." the king hesitated, was going to demur; but just then we heard the door give way, and knew that those desolate men were in the presence of their dead. "come, my liege! in a moment they will strike a light, and then will follow that which it would break your heart to hear." he did not hesitate this time. the moment we were in the road i ran; and after a moment he threw dignity aside and followed. i did not want to think of what was happening in the hut--i couldn't bear it; i wanted to drive it out of my mind; so i struck into the first subject that lay under that one in my mind: "i have had the disease those people died of, and so have nothing to fear; but if you have not had it also--" he broke in upon me to say he was in trouble, and it was his conscience that was troubling him: "these young men have got free, they say--but _how_? it is not likely that their lord hath set them free." "oh, no, i make no doubt they escaped." "that is my trouble; i have a fear that this is so, and your suspicion doth confirm it, you having the same fear." "i should not call it by that name though. i do suspect that they escaped, but if they did, i am not sorry, certainly." "i am not sorry, i _think_--but--" "what is it? what is there for one to be troubled about?" "_if_ they did escape, then are we bound in duty to lay hands upon them and deliver them again to their lord; for it is not seemly that one of his quality should suffer a so insolent and high-handed outrage from persons of their base degree." there it was again. he could see only one side of it. he was born so, educated so, his veins were full of ancestral blood that was rotten with this sort of unconscious brutality, brought down by inheritance from a long procession of hearts that had each done its share toward poisoning the stream. to imprison these men without proof, and starve their kindred, was no harm, for they were merely peasants and subject to the will and pleasure of their lord, no matter what fearful form it might take; but for these men to break out of unjust captivity was insult and outrage, and a thing not to be countenanced by any conscientious person who knew his duty to his sacred caste. i worked more than half an hour before i got him to change the subject--and even then an outside matter did it for me. this was a something which caught our eyes as we struck the summit of a small hill--a red glow, a good way off. "that's a fire," said i. fires interested me considerably, because i was getting a good deal of an insurance business started, and was also training some horses and building some steam fire-engines, with an eye to a paid fire department by and by. the priests opposed both my fire and life insurance, on the ground that it was an insolent attempt to hinder the decrees of god; and if you pointed out that they did not hinder the decrees in the least, but only modified the hard consequences of them if you took out policies and had luck, they retorted that that was gambling against the decrees of god, and was just as bad. so they managed to damage those industries more or less, but i got even on my accident business. as a rule, a knight is a lummox, and some times even a labrick, and hence open to pretty poor arguments when they come glibly from a superstition-monger, but even _he_ could see the practical side of a thing once in a while; and so of late you couldn't clean up a tournament and pile the result without finding one of my accident-tickets in every helmet. we stood there awhile, in the thick darkness and stillness, looking toward the red blur in the distance, and trying to make out the meaning of a far-away murmur that rose and fell fitfully on the night. sometimes it swelled up and for a moment seemed less remote; but when we were hopefully expecting it to betray its cause and nature, it dulled and sank again, carrying its mystery with it. we started down the hill in its direction, and the winding road plunged us at once into almost solid darkness--darkness that was packed and crammed in between two tall forest walls. we groped along down for half a mile, perhaps, that murmur growing more and more distinct all the time. the coming storm threatening more and more, with now and then a little shiver of wind, a faint show of lightning, and dull grumblings of distant thunder. i was in the lead. i ran against something--a soft heavy something which gave, slightly, to the impulse of my weight; at the same moment the lightning glared out, and within a foot of my face was the writhing face of a man who was hanging from the limb of a tree! that is, it seemed to be writhing, but it was not. it was a grewsome sight. straightway there was an ear-splitting explosion of thunder, and the bottom of heaven fell out; the rain poured down in a deluge. no matter, we must try to cut this man down, on the chance that there might be life in him yet, mustn't we? the lightning came quick and sharp now, and the place was alternately noonday and midnight. one moment the man would be hanging before me in an intense light, and the next he was blotted out again in the darkness. i told the king we must cut him down. the king at once objected. "if he hanged himself, he was willing to lose him property to his lord; so let him be. if others hanged him, belike they had the right--let him hang." "but--" "but me no buts, but even leave him as he is. and for yet another reason. when the lightning cometh again--there, look abroad." two others hanging, within fifty yards of us! "it is not weather meet for doing useless courtesies unto dead folk. they are past thanking you. come--it is unprofitable to tarry here." there was reason in what he said, so we moved on. within the next mile we counted six more hanging forms by the blaze of the lightning, and altogether it was a grisly excursion. that murmur was a murmur no longer, it was a roar; a roar of men's voices. a man came flying by now, dimly through the darkness, and other men chasing him. they disappeared. presently another case of the kind occurred, and then another and another. then a sudden turn of the road brought us in sight of that fire--it was a large manor-house, and little or nothing was left of it--and everywhere men were flying and other men raging after them in pursuit. i warned the king that this was not a safe place for strangers. we would better get away from the light, until matters should improve. we stepped back a little, and hid in the edge of the wood. from this hiding-place we saw both men and women hunted by the mob. the fearful work went on until nearly dawn. then, the fire being out and the storm spent, the voices and flying footsteps presently ceased, and darkness and stillness reigned again. we ventured out, and hurried cautiously away; and although we were worn out and sleepy, we kept on until we had put this place some miles behind us. then we asked hospitality at the hut of a charcoal burner, and got what was to be had. a woman was up and about, but the man was still asleep, on a straw shake-down, on the clay floor. the woman seemed uneasy until i explained that we were travelers and had lost our way and been wandering in the woods all night. she became talkative, then, and asked if we had heard of the terrible goings-on at the manor-house of abblasoure. yes, we had heard of them, but what we wanted now was rest and sleep. the king broke in: "sell us the house and take yourselves away, for we be perilous company, being late come from people that died of the spotted death." it was good of him, but unnecessary. one of the commonest decorations of the nation was the waffle-iron face. i had early noticed that the woman and her husband were both so decorated. she made us entirely welcome, and had no fears; and plainly she was immensely impressed by the king's proposition; for, of course, it was a good deal of an event in her life to run across a person of the king's humble appearance who was ready to buy a man's house for the sake of a night's lodging. it gave her a large respect for us, and she strained the lean possibilities of her hovel to the utmost to make us comfortable. we slept till far into the afternoon, and then got up hungry enough to make cotter fare quite palatable to the king, the more particularly as it was scant in quantity. and also in variety; it consisted solely of onions, salt, and the national black bread made out of horse-feed. the woman told us about the affair of the evening before. at ten or eleven at night, when everybody was in bed, the manor-house burst into flames. the country-side swarmed to the rescue, and the family were saved, with one exception, the master. he did not appear. everybody was frantic over this loss, and two brave yeomen sacrificed their lives in ransacking the burning house seeking that valuable personage. but after a while he was found--what was left of him--which was his corpse. it was in a copse three hundred yards away, bound, gagged, stabbed in a dozen places. who had done this? suspicion fell upon a humble family in the neighborhood who had been lately treated with peculiar harshness by the baron; and from these people the suspicion easily extended itself to their relatives and familiars. a suspicion was enough; my lord's liveried retainers proclaimed an instant crusade against these people, and were promptly joined by the community in general. the woman's husband had been active with the mob, and had not returned home until nearly dawn. he was gone now to find out what the general result had been. while we were still talking he came back from his quest. his report was revolting enough. eighteen persons hanged or butchered, and two yeomen and thirteen prisoners lost in the fire. "and how many prisoners were there altogether in the vaults?" "thirteen." "then every one of them was lost?" "yes, all." "but the people arrived in time to save the family; how is it they could save none of the prisoners?" the man looked puzzled, and said: "would one unlock the vaults at such a time? marry, some would have escaped." "then you mean that nobody _did_ unlock them?" "none went near them, either to lock or unlock. it standeth to reason that the bolts were fast; wherefore it was only needful to establish a watch, so that if any broke the bonds he might not escape, but be taken. none were taken." "natheless, three did escape," said the king, "and ye will do well to publish it and set justice upon their track, for these murthered the baron and fired the house." i was just expecting he would come out with that. for a moment the man and his wife showed an eager interest in this news and an impatience to go out and spread it; then a sudden something else betrayed itself in their faces, and they began to ask questions. i answered the questions myself, and narrowly watched the effects produced. i was soon satisfied that the knowledge of who these three prisoners were had somehow changed the atmosphere; that our hosts' continued eagerness to go and spread the news was now only pretended and not real. the king did not notice the change, and i was glad of that. i worked the conversation around toward other details of the night's proceedings, and noted that these people were relieved to have it take that direction. the painful thing observable about all this business was the alacrity with which this oppressed community had turned their cruel hands against their own class in the interest of the common oppressor. this man and woman seemed to feel that in a quarrel between a person of their own class and his lord, it was the natural and proper and rightful thing for that poor devil's whole caste to side with the master and fight his battle for him, without ever stopping to inquire into the rights or wrongs of the matter. this man had been out helping to hang his neighbors, and had done his work with zeal, and yet was aware that there was nothing against them but a mere suspicion, with nothing back of it describable as evidence, still neither he nor his wife seemed to see anything horrible about it. this was depressing--to a man with the dream of a republic in his head. it reminded me of a time thirteen centuries away, when the "poor whites" of our south who were always despised and frequently insulted by the slave-lords around them, and who owed their base condition simply to the presence of slavery in their midst, were yet pusillanimously ready to side with the slave-lords in all political moves for the upholding and perpetuating of slavery, and did also finally shoulder their muskets and pour out their lives in an effort to prevent the destruction of that very institution which degraded them. and there was only one redeeming feature connected with that pitiful piece of history; and that was, that secretly the "poor white" did detest the slave-lord, and did feel his own shame. that feeling was not brought to the surface, but the fact that it was there and could have been brought out, under favoring circumstances, was something--in fact, it was enough; for it showed that a man is at bottom a man, after all, even if it doesn't show on the outside. well, as it turned out, this charcoal burner was just the twin of the southern "poor white" of the far future. the king presently showed impatience, and said: "an ye prattle here all the day, justice will miscarry. think ye the criminals will abide in their father's house? they are fleeing, they are not waiting. you should look to it that a party of horse be set upon their track." the woman paled slightly, but quite perceptibly, and the man looked flustered and irresolute. i said: "come, friend, i will walk a little way with you, and explain which direction i think they would try to take. if they were merely resisters of the gabelle or some kindred absurdity i would try to protect them from capture; but when men murder a person of high degree and likewise burn his house, that is another matter." the last remark was for the king--to quiet him. on the road the man pulled his resolution together, and began the march with a steady gait, but there was no eagerness in it. by and by i said: "what relation were these men to you--cousins?" he turned as white as his layer of charcoal would let him, and stopped, trembling. "ah, my god, how know ye that?" "i didn't know it; it was a chance guess." "poor lads, they are lost. and good lads they were, too." "were you actually going yonder to tell on them?" he didn't quite know how to take that; but he said, hesitatingly: "ye-s." "then i think you are a damned scoundrel!" it made him as glad as if i had called him an angel. "say the good words again, brother! for surely ye mean that ye would not betray me an i failed of my duty." "duty? there is no duty in the matter, except the duty to keep still and let those men get away. they've done a righteous deed." he looked pleased; pleased, and touched with apprehension at the same time. he looked up and down the road to see that no one was coming, and then said in a cautious voice: "from what land come you, brother, that you speak such perilous words, and seem not to be afraid?" "they are not perilous words when spoken to one of my own caste, i take it. you would not tell anybody i said them?" "i? i would be drawn asunder by wild horses first." "well, then, let me say my say. i have no fears of your repeating it. i think devil's work has been done last night upon those innocent poor people. that old baron got only what he deserved. if i had my way, all his kind should have the same luck." fear and depression vanished from the man's manner, and gratefulness and a brave animation took their place: "even though you be a spy, and your words a trap for my undoing, yet are they such refreshment that to hear them again and others like to them, i would go to the gallows happy, as having had one good feast at least in a starved life. and i will say my say now, and ye may report it if ye be so minded. i helped to hang my neighbors for that it were peril to my own life to show lack of zeal in the master's cause; the others helped for none other reason. all rejoice to-day that he is dead, but all do go about seemingly sorrowing, and shedding the hypocrite's tear, for in that lies safety. i have said the words, i have said the words! the only ones that have ever tasted good in my mouth, and the reward of that taste is sufficient. lead on, an ye will, be it even to the scaffold, for i am ready." there it was, you see. a man is a man, at bottom. whole ages of abuse and oppression cannot crush the manhood clear out of him. whoever thinks it a mistake is himself mistaken. yes, there is plenty good enough material for a republic in the most degraded people that ever existed--even the russians; plenty of manhood in them--even in the germans--if one could but force it out of its timid and suspicious privacy, to overthrow and trample in the mud any throne that ever was set up and any nobility that ever supported it. we should see certain things yet, let us hope and believe. first, a modified monarchy, till arthur's days were done, then the destruction of the throne, nobility abolished, every member of it bound out to some useful trade, universal suffrage instituted, and the whole government placed in the hands of the men and women of the nation there to remain. yes, there was no occasion to give up my dream yet a while. chapter xxxi marco we strolled along in a sufficiently indolent fashion now, and talked. we must dispose of about the amount of time it ought to take to go to the little hamlet of abblasoure and put justice on the track of those murderers and get back home again. and meantime i had an auxiliary interest which had never paled yet, never lost its novelty for me since i had been in arthur's kingdom: the behavior--born of nice and exact subdivisions of caste--of chance passers-by toward each other. toward the shaven monk who trudged along with his cowl tilted back and the sweat washing down his fat jowls, the coal-burner was deeply reverent; to the gentleman he was abject; with the small farmer and the free mechanic he was cordial and gossipy; and when a slave passed by with a countenance respectfully lowered, this chap's nose was in the air--he couldn't even see him. well, there are times when one would like to hang the whole human race and finish the farce. presently we struck an incident. a small mob of half-naked boys and girls came tearing out of the woods, scared and shrieking. the eldest among them were not more than twelve or fourteen years old. they implored help, but they were so beside themselves that we couldn't make out what the matter was. however, we plunged into the wood, they skurrying in the lead, and the trouble was quickly revealed: they had hanged a little fellow with a bark rope, and he was kicking and struggling, in the process of choking to death. we rescued him, and fetched him around. it was some more human nature; the admiring little folk imitating their elders; they were playing mob, and had achieved a success which promised to be a good deal more serious than they had bargained for. it was not a dull excursion for me. i managed to put in the time very well. i made various acquaintanceships, and in my quality of stranger was able to ask as many questions as i wanted to. a thing which naturally interested me, as a statesman, was the matter of wages. i picked up what i could under that head during the afternoon. a man who hasn't had much experience, and doesn't think, is apt to measure a nation's prosperity or lack of prosperity by the mere size of the prevailing wages; if the wages be high, the nation is prosperous; if low, it isn't. which is an error. it isn't what sum you get, it's how much you can buy with it, that's the important thing; and it's that that tells whether your wages are high in fact or only high in name. i could remember how it was in the time of our great civil war in the nineteenth century. in the north a carpenter got three dollars a day, gold valuation; in the south he got fifty--payable in confederate shinplasters worth a dollar a bushel. in the north a suit of overalls cost three dollars--a day's wages; in the south it cost seventy-five --which was two days' wages. other things were in proportion. consequently, wages were twice as high in the north as they were in the south, because the one wage had that much more purchasing power than the other had. yes, i made various acquaintances in the hamlet and a thing that gratified me a good deal was to find our new coins in circulation --lots of milrays, lots of mills, lots of cents, a good many nickels, and some silver; all this among the artisans and commonalty generally; yes, and even some gold--but that was at the bank, that is to say, the goldsmith's. i dropped in there while marco, the son of marco, was haggling with a shopkeeper over a quarter of a pound of salt, and asked for change for a twenty-dollar gold piece. they furnished it--that is, after they had chewed the piece, and rung it on the counter, and tried acid on it, and asked me where i got it, and who i was, and where i was from, and where i was going to, and when i expected to get there, and perhaps a couple of hundred more questions; and when they got aground, i went right on and furnished them a lot of information voluntarily; told them i owned a dog, and his name was watch, and my first wife was a free will baptist, and her grandfather was a prohibitionist, and i used to know a man who had two thumbs on each hand and a wart on the inside of his upper lip, and died in the hope of a glorious resurrection, and so on, and so on, and so on, till even that hungry village questioner began to look satisfied, and also a shade put out; but he had to respect a man of my financial strength, and so he didn't give me any lip, but i noticed he took it out of his underlings, which was a perfectly natural thing to do. yes, they changed my twenty, but i judged it strained the bank a little, which was a thing to be expected, for it was the same as walking into a paltry village store in the nineteenth century and requiring the boss of it to change a two thousand-dollar bill for you all of a sudden. he could do it, maybe; but at the same time he would wonder how a small farmer happened to be carrying so much money around in his pocket; which was probably this goldsmith's thought, too; for he followed me to the door and stood there gazing after me with reverent admiration. our new money was not only handsomely circulating, but its language was already glibly in use; that is to say, people had dropped the names of the former moneys, and spoke of things as being worth so many dollars or cents or mills or milrays now. it was very gratifying. we were progressing, that was sure. i got to know several master mechanics, but about the most interesting fellow among them was the blacksmith, dowley. he was a live man and a brisk talker, and had two journeymen and three apprentices, and was doing a raging business. in fact, he was getting rich, hand over fist, and was vastly respected. marco was very proud of having such a man for a friend. he had taken me there ostensibly to let me see the big establishment which bought so much of his charcoal, but really to let me see what easy and almost familiar terms he was on with this great man. dowley and i fraternized at once; i had had just such picked men, splendid fellows, under me in the colt arms factory. i was bound to see more of him, so i invited him to come out to marco's sunday, and dine with us. marco was appalled, and held his breath; and when the grandee accepted, he was so grateful that he almost forgot to be astonished at the condescension. marco's joy was exuberant--but only for a moment; then he grew thoughtful, then sad; and when he heard me tell dowley i should have dickon, the boss mason, and smug, the boss wheelwright, out there, too, the coal-dust on his face turned to chalk, and he lost his grip. but i knew what was the matter with him; it was the expense. he saw ruin before him; he judged that his financial days were numbered. however, on our way to invite the others, i said: "you must allow me to have these friends come; and you must also allow me to pay the costs." his face cleared, and he said with spirit: "but not all of it, not all of it. ye cannot well bear a burden like to this alone." i stopped him, and said: "now let's understand each other on the spot, old friend. i am only a farm bailiff, it is true; but i am not poor, nevertheless. i have been very fortunate this year--you would be astonished to know how i have thriven. i tell you the honest truth when i say i could squander away as many as a dozen feasts like this and never care _that_ for the expense!" and i snapped my fingers. i could see myself rise a foot at a time in marco's estimation, and when i fetched out those last words i was become a very tower for style and altitude. "so you see, you must let me have my way. you can't contribute a cent to this orgy, that's _settled_." "it's grand and good of you--" "no, it isn't. you've opened your house to jones and me in the most generous way; jones was remarking upon it to-day, just before you came back from the village; for although he wouldn't be likely to say such a thing to you--because jones isn't a talker, and is diffident in society--he has a good heart and a grateful, and knows how to appreciate it when he is well treated; yes, you and your wife have been very hospitable toward us--" "ah, brother, 'tis nothing--_such_ hospitality!" "but it _is_ something; the best a man has, freely given, is always something, and is as good as a prince can do, and ranks right along beside it--for even a prince can but do his best. and so we'll shop around and get up this layout now, and don't you worry about the expense. i'm one of the worst spendthrifts that ever was born. why, do you know, sometimes in a single week i spend --but never mind about that--you'd never believe it anyway." and so we went gadding along, dropping in here and there, pricing things, and gossiping with the shopkeepers about the riot, and now and then running across pathetic reminders of it, in the persons of shunned and tearful and houseless remnants of families whose homes had been taken from them and their parents butchered or hanged. the raiment of marco and his wife was of coarse tow-linen and linsey-woolsey respectively, and resembled township maps, it being made up pretty exclusively of patches which had been added, township by township, in the course of five or six years, until hardly a hand's-breadth of the original garments was surviving and present. now i wanted to fit these people out with new suits, on account of that swell company, and i didn't know just how to get at it --with delicacy, until at last it struck me that as i had already been liberal in inventing wordy gratitude for the king, it would be just the thing to back it up with evidence of a substantial sort; so i said: "and marco, there's another thing which you must permit--out of kindness for jones--because you wouldn't want to offend him. he was very anxious to testify his appreciation in some way, but he is so diffident he couldn't venture it himself, and so he begged me to buy some little things and give them to you and dame phyllis and let him pay for them without your ever knowing they came from him--you know how a delicate person feels about that sort of thing --and so i said i would, and we would keep mum. well, his idea was, a new outfit of clothes for you both--" "oh, it is wastefulness! it may not be, brother, it may not be. consider the vastness of the sum--" "hang the vastness of the sum! try to keep quiet for a moment, and see how it would seem; a body can't get in a word edgeways, you talk so much. you ought to cure that, marco; it isn't good form, you know, and it will grow on you if you don't check it. yes, we'll step in here now and price this man's stuff--and don't forget to remember to not let on to jones that you know he had anything to do with it. you can't think how curiously sensitive and proud he is. he's a farmer--pretty fairly well-to-do farmer --an i'm his bailiff; _but_--the imagination of that man! why, sometimes when he forgets himself and gets to blowing off, you'd think he was one of the swells of the earth; and you might listen to him a hundred years and never take him for a farmer--especially if he talked agriculture. he _thinks_ he's a sheol of a farmer; thinks he's old grayback from wayback; but between you and me privately he don't know as much about farming as he does about running a kingdom--still, whatever he talks about, you want to drop your underjaw and listen, the same as if you had never heard such incredible wisdom in all your life before, and were afraid you might die before you got enough of it. that will please jones." it tickled marco to the marrow to hear about such an odd character; but it also prepared him for accidents; and in my experience when you travel with a king who is letting on to be something else and can't remember it more than about half the time, you can't take too many precautions. this was the best store we had come across yet; it had everything in it, in small quantities, from anvils and drygoods all the way down to fish and pinchbeck jewelry. i concluded i would bunch my whole invoice right here, and not go pricing around any more. so i got rid of marco, by sending him off to invite the mason and the wheelwright, which left the field free to me. for i never care to do a thing in a quiet way; it's got to be theatrical or i don't take any interest in it. i showed up money enough, in a careless way, to corral the shopkeeper's respect, and then i wrote down a list of the things i wanted, and handed it to him to see if he could read it. he could, and was proud to show that he could. he said he had been educated by a priest, and could both read and write. he ran it through, and remarked with satisfaction that it was a pretty heavy bill. well, and so it was, for a little concern like that. i was not only providing a swell dinner, but some odds and ends of extras. i ordered that the things be carted out and delivered at the dwelling of marco, the son of marco, by saturday evening, and send me the bill at dinner-time sunday. he said i could depend upon his promptness and exactitude, it was the rule of the house. he also observed that he would throw in a couple of miller-guns for the marcos gratis--that everybody was using them now. he had a mighty opinion of that clever device. i said: "and please fill them up to the middle mark, too; and add that to the bill." he would, with pleasure. he filled them, and i took them with me. i couldn't venture to tell him that the miller-gun was a little invention of my own, and that i had officially ordered that every shopkeeper in the kingdom keep them on hand and sell them at government price--which was the merest trifle, and the shopkeeper got that, not the government. we furnished them for nothing. the king had hardly missed us when we got back at nightfall. he had early dropped again into his dream of a grand invasion of gaul with the whole strength of his kingdom at his back, and the afternoon had slipped away without his ever coming to himself again. a connecticut yankee in king arthur's court by mark twain (samuel l. clemens) part 7. chapter xxxii dowley's humiliation well, when that cargo arrived toward sunset, saturday afternoon, i had my hands full to keep the marcos from fainting. they were sure jones and i were ruined past help, and they blamed themselves as accessories to this bankruptcy. you see, in addition to the dinner-materials, which called for a sufficiently round sum, i had bought a lot of extras for the future comfort of the family: for instance, a big lot of wheat, a delicacy as rare to the tables of their class as was ice-cream to a hermit's; also a sizeable deal dinner-table; also two entire pounds of salt, which was another piece of extravagance in those people's eyes; also crockery, stools, the clothes, a small cask of beer, and so on. i instructed the marcos to keep quiet about this sumptuousness, so as to give me a chance to surprise the guests and show off a little. concerning the new clothes, the simple couple were like children; they were up and down, all night, to see if it wasn't nearly daylight, so that they could put them on, and they were into them at last as much as an hour before dawn was due. then their pleasure--not to say delirium--was so fresh and novel and inspiring that the sight of it paid me well for the interruptions which my sleep had suffered. the king had slept just as usual--like the dead. the marcos could not thank him for their clothes, that being forbidden; but they tried every way they could think of to make him see how grateful they were. which all went for nothing: he didn't notice any change. it turned out to be one of those rich and rare fall days which is just a june day toned down to a degree where it is heaven to be out of doors. toward noon the guests arrived, and we assembled under a great tree and were soon as sociable as old acquaintances. even the king's reserve melted a little, though it was some little trouble to him to adjust himself to the name of jones along at first. i had asked him to try to not forget that he was a farmer; but i had also considered it prudent to ask him to let the thing stand at that, and not elaborate it any. because he was just the kind of person you could depend on to spoil a little thing like that if you didn't warn him, his tongue was so handy, and his spirit so willing, and his information so uncertain. dowley was in fine feather, and i early got him started, and then adroitly worked him around onto his own history for a text and himself for a hero, and then it was good to sit there and hear him hum. self-made man, you know. they know how to talk. they do deserve more credit than any other breed of men, yes, that is true; and they are among the very first to find it out, too. he told how he had begun life an orphan lad without money and without friends able to help him; how he had lived as the slaves of the meanest master lived; how his day's work was from sixteen to eighteen hours long, and yielded him only enough black bread to keep him in a half-fed condition; how his faithful endeavors finally attracted the attention of a good blacksmith, who came near knocking him dead with kindness by suddenly offering, when he was totally unprepared, to take him as his bound apprentice for nine years and give him board and clothes and teach him the trade--or "mystery" as dowley called it. that was his first great rise, his first gorgeous stroke of fortune; and you saw that he couldn't yet speak of it without a sort of eloquent wonder and delight that such a gilded promotion should have fallen to the lot of a common human being. he got no new clothing during his apprenticeship, but on his graduation day his master tricked him out in spang-new tow-linens and made him feel unspeakably rich and fine. "i remember me of that day!" the wheelwright sang out, with enthusiasm. "and i likewise!" cried the mason. "i would not believe they were thine own; in faith i could not." "nor other!" shouted dowley, with sparkling eyes. "i was like to lose my character, the neighbors wending i had mayhap been stealing. it was a great day, a great day; one forgetteth not days like that." yes, and his master was a fine man, and prosperous, and always had a great feast of meat twice in the year, and with it white bread, true wheaten bread; in fact, lived like a lord, so to speak. and in time dowley succeeded to the business and married the daughter. "and now consider what is come to pass," said he, impressively. "two times in every month there is fresh meat upon my table." he made a pause here, to let that fact sink home, then added --"and eight times salt meat." "it is even true," said the wheelwright, with bated breath. "i know it of mine own knowledge," said the mason, in the same reverent fashion. "on my table appeareth white bread every sunday in the year," added the master smith, with solemnity. "i leave it to your own consciences, friends, if this is not also true?" "by my head, yes," cried the mason. "i can testify it--and i do," said the wheelwright. "and as to furniture, ye shall say yourselves what mine equipment is." he waved his hand in fine gesture of granting frank and unhampered freedom of speech, and added: "speak as ye are moved; speak as ye would speak; an i were not here." "ye have five stools, and of the sweetest workmanship at that, albeit your family is but three," said the wheelwright, with deep respect. "and six wooden goblets, and six platters of wood and two of pewter to eat and drink from withal," said the mason, impressively. "and i say it as knowing god is my judge, and we tarry not here alway, but must answer at the last day for the things said in the body, be they false or be they sooth." "now ye know what manner of man i am, brother jones," said the smith, with a fine and friendly condescension, "and doubtless ye would look to find me a man jealous of his due of respect and but sparing of outgo to strangers till their rating and quality be assured, but trouble yourself not, as concerning that; wit ye well ye shall find me a man that regardeth not these matters but is willing to receive any he as his fellow and equal that carrieth a right heart in his body, be his worldly estate howsoever modest. and in token of it, here is my hand; and i say with my own mouth we are equals--equals"--and he smiled around on the company with the satisfaction of a god who is doing the handsome and gracious thing and is quite well aware of it. the king took the hand with a poorly disguised reluctance, and let go of it as willingly as a lady lets go of a fish; all of which had a good effect, for it was mistaken for an embarrassment natural to one who was being called upon by greatness. the dame brought out the table now, and set it under the tree. it caused a visible stir of surprise, it being brand new and a sumptuous article of deal. but the surprise rose higher still when the dame, with a body oozing easy indifference at every pore, but eyes that gave it all away by absolutely flaming with vanity, slowly unfolded an actual simon-pure tablecloth and spread it. that was a notch above even the blacksmith's domestic grandeurs, and it hit him hard; you could see it. but marco was in paradise; you could see that, too. then the dame brought two fine new stools--whew! that was a sensation; it was visible in the eyes of every guest. then she brought two more--as calmly as she could. sensation again--with awed murmurs. again she brought two --walking on air, she was so proud. the guests were petrified, and the mason muttered: "there is that about earthly pomps which doth ever move to reverence." as the dame turned away, marco couldn't help slapping on the climax while the thing was hot; so he said with what was meant for a languid composure but was a poor imitation of it: "these suffice; leave the rest." so there were more yet! it was a fine effect. i couldn't have played the hand better myself. from this out, the madam piled up the surprises with a rush that fired the general astonishment up to a hundred and fifty in the shade, and at the same time paralyzed expression of it down to gasped "oh's" and "ah's," and mute upliftings of hands and eyes. she fetched crockery--new, and plenty of it; new wooden goblets and other table furniture; and beer, fish, chicken, a goose, eggs, roast beef, roast mutton, a ham, a small roast pig, and a wealth of genuine white wheaten bread. take it by and large, that spread laid everything far and away in the shade that ever that crowd had seen before. and while they sat there just simply stupefied with wonder and awe, i sort of waved my hand as if by accident, and the storekeeper's son emerged from space and said he had come to collect. "that's all right," i said, indifferently. "what is the amount? give us the items." then he read off this bill, while those three amazed men listened, and serene waves of satisfaction rolled over my soul and alternate waves of terror and admiration surged over marco's: 2 pounds salt . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 200 8 dozen pints beer, in the wood . . . . . 800 3 bushels wheat . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2,700 2 pounds fish . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100 3 hens . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 400 1 goose . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 400 3 dozen eggs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 150 1 roast of beef . . . . . . . . . . . . . 450 1 roast of mutton . . . . . . . . . . . . 400 1 ham . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 800 1 sucking pig . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 500 2 crockery dinner sets . . . . . . . . . 6,000 2 men's suits and underwear . . . . . . . 2,800 1 stuff and 1 linsey-woolsey gown and underwear . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1,600 8 wooden goblets . . . . . . . . . . . . 800 various table furniture . . . . . . . . .10,000 1 deal table . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3,000 8 stools . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4,000 2 miller guns, loaded . . . . . . . . . . 3,000 he ceased. there was a pale and awful silence. not a limb stirred. not a nostril betrayed the passage of breath. "is that all?" i asked, in a voice of the most perfect calmness. "all, fair sir, save that certain matters of light moment are placed together under a head hight sundries. if it would like you, i will sepa--" "it is of no consequence," i said, accompanying the words with a gesture of the most utter indifference; "give me the grand total, please." the clerk leaned against the tree to stay himself, and said: "thirty-nine thousand one hundred and fifty milrays!" the wheelwright fell off his stool, the others grabbed the table to save themselves, and there was a deep and general ejaculation of: "god be with us in the day of disaster!" the clerk hastened to say: "my father chargeth me to say he cannot honorably require you to pay it all at this time, and therefore only prayeth you--" i paid no more heed than if it were the idle breeze, but, with an air of indifference amounting almost to weariness, got out my money and tossed four dollars on to the table. ah, you should have seen them stare! the clerk was astonished and charmed. he asked me to retain one of the dollars as security, until he could go to town and --i interrupted: "what, and fetch back nine cents? nonsense! take the whole. keep the change." there was an amazed murmur to this effect: "verily this being is _made_ of money! he throweth it away even as if it were dirt." the blacksmith was a crushed man. the clerk took his money and reeled away drunk with fortune. i said to marco and his wife: "good folk, here is a little trifle for you"--handing the miller-guns as if it were a matter of no consequence, though each of them contained fifteen cents in solid cash; and while the poor creatures went to pieces with astonishment and gratitude, i turned to the others and said as calmly as one would ask the time of day: "well, if we are all ready, i judge the dinner is. come, fall to." ah, well, it was immense; yes, it was a daisy. i don't know that i ever put a situation together better, or got happier spectacular effects out of the materials available. the blacksmith--well, he was simply mashed. land! i wouldn't have felt what that man was feeling, for anything in the world. here he had been blowing and bragging about his grand meat-feast twice a year, and his fresh meat twice a month, and his salt meat twice a week, and his white bread every sunday the year round--all for a family of three; the entire cost for the year not above 69.2.6 (sixty-nine cents, two mills and six milrays), and all of a sudden here comes along a man who slashes out nearly four dollars on a single blow-out; and not only that, but acts as if it made him tired to handle such small sums. yes, dowley was a good deal wilted, and shrunk-up and collapsed; he had the aspect of a bladder-balloon that's been stepped on by a cow. chapter xxxiii sixth century political economy however, i made a dead set at him, and before the first third of the dinner was reached, i had him happy again. it was easy to do--in a country of ranks and castes. you see, in a country where they have ranks and castes, a man isn't ever a man, he is only part of a man, he can't ever get his full growth. you prove your superiority over him in station, or rank, or fortune, and that's the end of it--he knuckles down. you can't insult him after that. no, i don't mean quite that; of course you _can_ insult him, i only mean it's difficult; and so, unless you've got a lot of useless time on your hands it doesn't pay to try. i had the smith's reverence now, because i was apparently immensely prosperous and rich; i could have had his adoration if i had had some little gimcrack title of nobility. and not only his, but any commoner's in the land, though he were the mightiest production of all the ages, in intellect, worth, and character, and i bankrupt in all three. this was to remain so, as long as england should exist in the earth. with the spirit of prophecy upon me, i could look into the future and see her erect statues and monuments to her unspeakable georges and other royal and noble clothes-horses, and leave unhonored the creators of this world--after god--gutenburg, watt, arkwright, whitney, morse, stephenson, bell. the king got his cargo aboard, and then, the talk not turning upon battle, conquest, or iron-clad duel, he dulled down to drowsiness and went off to take a nap. mrs. marco cleared the table, placed the beer keg handy, and went away to eat her dinner of leavings in humble privacy, and the rest of us soon drifted into matters near and dear to the hearts of our sort--business and wages, of course. at a first glance, things appeared to be exceeding prosperous in this little tributary kingdom--whose lord was king bagdemagus--as compared with the state of things in my own region. they had the "protection" system in full force here, whereas we were working along down toward free-trade, by easy stages, and were now about half way. before long, dowley and i were doing all the talking, the others hungrily listening. dowley warmed to his work, snuffed an advantage in the air, and began to put questions which he considered pretty awkward ones for me, and they did have something of that look: "in your country, brother, what is the wage of a master bailiff, master hind, carter, shepherd, swineherd?" "twenty-five milrays a day; that is to say, a quarter of a cent." the smith's face beamed with joy. he said: "with us they are allowed the double of it! and what may a mechanic get--carpenter, dauber, mason, painter, blacksmith, wheelwright, and the like?" "on the average, fifty milrays; half a cent a day." "ho-ho! with us they are allowed a hundred! with us any good mechanic is allowed a cent a day! i count out the tailor, but not the others--they are all allowed a cent a day, and in driving times they get more--yes, up to a hundred and ten and even fifteen milrays a day. i've paid a hundred and fifteen myself, within the week. 'rah for protection--to sheol with free-trade!" and his face shone upon the company like a sunburst. but i didn't scare at all. i rigged up my pile-driver, and allowed myself fifteen minutes to drive him into the earth--drive him _all_ in --drive him in till not even the curve of his skull should show above ground. here is the way i started in on him. i asked: "what do you pay a pound for salt?" "a hundred milrays." "we pay forty. what do you pay for beef and mutton--when you buy it?" that was a neat hit; it made the color come. "it varieth somewhat, but not much; one may say seventy-five milrays the pound." "_we_ pay thirty-three. what do you pay for eggs?" "fifty milrays the dozen." "we pay twenty. what do you pay for beer?" "it costeth us eight and one-half milrays the pint." "we get it for four; twenty-five bottles for a cent. what do you pay for wheat?" "at the rate of nine hundred milrays the bushel." "we pay four hundred. what do you pay for a man's tow-linen suit?" "thirteen cents." "we pay six. what do you pay for a stuff gown for the wife of the laborer or the mechanic?" "we pay eight cents, four mills." "well, observe the difference: you pay eight cents and four mills, we pay only four cents." i prepared now to sock it to him. i said: "look here, dear friend, _what's become of your high wages you were bragging so about a few minutes ago?_"--and i looked around on the company with placid satisfaction, for i had slipped up on him gradually and tied him hand and foot, you see, without his ever noticing that he was being tied at all. "what's become of those noble high wages of yours?--i seem to have knocked the stuffing all out of them, it appears to me." but if you will believe me, he merely looked surprised, that is all! he didn't grasp the situation at all, didn't know he had walked into a trap, didn't discover that he was _in_ a trap. i could have shot him, from sheer vexation. with cloudy eye and a struggling intellect he fetched this out: "marry, i seem not to understand. it is _proved_ that our wages be double thine; how then may it be that thou'st knocked therefrom the stuffing?--an miscall not the wonderly word, this being the first time under grace and providence of god it hath been granted me to hear it." well, i was stunned; partly with this unlooked-for stupidity on his part, and partly because his fellows so manifestly sided with him and were of his mind--if you might call it mind. my position was simple enough, plain enough; how could it ever be simplified more? however, i must try: "why, look here, brother dowley, don't you see? your wages are merely higher than ours in _name_, not in _fact_." "hear him! they are the _double_--ye have confessed it yourself." "yes-yes, i don't deny that at all. but that's got nothing to do with it; the _amount_ of the wages in mere coins, with meaningless names attached to them to know them by, has got nothing to do with it. the thing is, how much can you _buy_ with your wages? --that's the idea. while it is true that with you a good mechanic is allowed about three dollars and a half a year, and with us only about a dollar and seventy-five--" "there--ye're confessing it again, ye're confessing it again!" "confound it, i've never denied it, i tell you! what i say is this. with us _half_ a dollar buys more than a _dollar_ buys with you--and therefore it stands to reason and the commonest kind of common-sense, that our wages are _higher_ than yours." he looked dazed, and said, despairingly: "verily, i cannot make it out. ye've just said ours are the higher, and with the same breath ye take it back." "oh, great scott, isn't it possible to get such a simple thing through your head? now look here--let me illustrate. we pay four cents for a woman's stuff gown, you pay 8.4.0, which is four mills more than _double_. what do you allow a laboring woman who works on a farm?" "two mills a day." "very good; we allow but half as much; we pay her only a tenth of a cent a day; and--" "again ye're conf--" "wait! now, you see, the thing is very simple; this time you'll understand it. for instance, it takes your woman 42 days to earn her gown, at 2 mills a day--7 weeks' work; but ours earns hers in forty days--two days _short_ of 7 weeks. your woman has a gown, and her whole seven weeks wages are gone; ours has a gown, and two days' wages left, to buy something else with. there--_now_ you understand it!" he looked--well, he merely looked dubious, it's the most i can say; so did the others. i waited--to let the thing work. dowley spoke at last--and betrayed the fact that he actually hadn't gotten away from his rooted and grounded superstitions yet. he said, with a trifle of hesitancy: "but--but--ye cannot fail to grant that two mills a day is better than one." shucks! well, of course, i hated to give it up. so i chanced another flyer: "let us suppose a case. suppose one of your journeymen goes out and buys the following articles: "1 pound of salt; 1 dozen eggs; 1 dozen pints of beer; 1 bushel of wheat; 1 tow-linen suit; 5 pounds of beef; 5 pounds of mutton. "the lot will cost him 32 cents. it takes him 32 working days to earn the money--5 weeks and 2 days. let him come to us and work 32 days at _half_ the wages; he can buy all those things for a shade under 14 1/2 cents; they will cost him a shade under 29 days' work, and he will have about half a week's wages over. carry it through the year; he would save nearly a week's wages every two months, _your_ man nothing; thus saving five or six weeks' wages in a year, your man not a cent. _now_ i reckon you understand that 'high wages' and 'low wages' are phrases that don't mean anything in the world until you find out which of them will _buy_ the most!" it was a crusher. but, alas! it didn't crush. no, i had to give it up. what those people valued was _high wages_; it didn't seem to be a matter of any consequence to them whether the high wages would buy anything or not. they stood for "protection," and swore by it, which was reasonable enough, because interested parties had gulled them into the notion that it was protection which had created their high wages. i proved to them that in a quarter of a century their wages had advanced but 30 per cent., while the cost of living had gone up 100; and that with us, in a shorter time, wages had advanced 40 per cent. while the cost of living had gone steadily down. but it didn't do any good. nothing could unseat their strange beliefs. well, i was smarting under a sense of defeat. undeserved defeat, but what of that? that didn't soften the smart any. and to think of the circumstances! the first statesman of the age, the capablest man, the best-informed man in the entire world, the loftiest uncrowned head that had moved through the clouds of any political firmament for centuries, sitting here apparently defeated in argument by an ignorant country blacksmith! and i could see that those others were sorry for me--which made me blush till i could smell my whiskers scorching. put yourself in my place; feel as mean as i did, as ashamed as i felt--wouldn't _you_ have struck below the belt to get even? yes, you would; it is simply human nature. well, that is what i did. i am not trying to justify it; i'm only saying that i was mad, and _anybody_ would have done it. well, when i make up my mind to hit a man, i don't plan out a love-tap; no, that isn't my way; as long as i'm going to hit him at all, i'm going to hit him a lifter. and i don't jump at him all of a sudden, and risk making a blundering half-way business of it; no, i get away off yonder to one side, and work up on him gradually, so that he never suspects that i'm going to hit him at all; and by and by, all in a flash, he's flat on his back, and he can't tell for the life of him how it all happened. that is the way i went for brother dowley. i started to talking lazy and comfortable, as if i was just talking to pass the time; and the oldest man in the world couldn't have taken the bearings of my starting place and guessed where i was going to fetch up: "boys, there's a good many curious things about law, and custom, and usage, and all that sort of thing, when you come to look at it; yes, and about the drift and progress of human opinion and movement, too. there are written laws--they perish; but there are also unwritten laws--_they_ are eternal. take the unwritten law of wages: it says they've got to advance, little by little, straight through the centuries. and notice how it works. we know what wages are now, here and there and yonder; we strike an average, and say that's the wages of to-day. we know what the wages were a hundred years ago, and what they were two hundred years ago; that's as far back as we can get, but it suffices to give us the law of progress, the measure and rate of the periodical augmentation; and so, without a document to help us, we can come pretty close to determining what the wages were three and four and five hundred years ago. good, so far. do we stop there? no. we stop looking backward; we face around and apply the law to the future. my friends, i can tell you what people's wages are going to be at any date in the future you want to know, for hundreds and hundreds of years." "what, goodman, what!" "yes. in seven hundred years wages will have risen to six times what they are now, here in your region, and farm hands will be allowed 3 cents a day, and mechanics 6." "i would't i might die now and live then!" interrupted smug, the wheelwright, with a fine avaricious glow in his eye. "and that isn't all; they'll get their board besides--such as it is: it won't bloat them. two hundred and fifty years later--pay attention now--a mechanic's wages will be--mind you, this is law, not guesswork; a mechanic's wages will then be _twenty_ cents a day!" there was a general gasp of awed astonishment, dickon the mason murmured, with raised eyes and hands: "more than three weeks' pay for one day's work!" "riches!--of a truth, yes, riches!" muttered marco, his breath coming quick and short, with excitement. "wages will keep on rising, little by little, little by little, as steadily as a tree grows, and at the end of three hundred and forty years more there'll be at least _one_ country where the mechanic's average wage will be _two hundred_ cents a day!" it knocked them absolutely dumb! not a man of them could get his breath for upwards of two minutes. then the coal-burner said prayerfully: "might i but live to see it!" "it is the income of an earl!" said smug. "an earl, say ye?" said dowley; "ye could say more than that and speak no lie; there's no earl in the realm of bagdemagus that hath an income like to that. income of an earl--mf! it's the income of an angel!" "now, then, that is what is going to happen as regards wages. in that remote day, that man will earn, with _one_ week's work, that bill of goods which it takes you upwards of _fifty_ weeks to earn now. some other pretty surprising things are going to happen, too. brother dowley, who is it that determines, every spring, what the particular wage of each kind of mechanic, laborer, and servant shall be for that year?" "sometimes the courts, sometimes the town council; but most of all, the magistrate. ye may say, in general terms, it is the magistrate that fixes the wages." "doesn't ask any of those poor devils to _help_ him fix their wages for them, does he?" "hm! that _were_ an idea! the master that's to pay him the money is the one that's rightly concerned in that matter, ye will notice." "yes--but i thought the other man might have some little trifle at stake in it, too; and even his wife and children, poor creatures. the masters are these: nobles, rich men, the prosperous generally. these few, who do no work, determine what pay the vast hive shall have who _do_ work. you see? they're a 'combine'--a trade union, to coin a new phrase--who band themselves together to force their lowly brother to take what they choose to give. thirteen hundred years hence--so says the unwritten law--the 'combine' will be the other way, and then how these fine people's posterity will fume and fret and grit their teeth over the insolent tyranny of trade unions! yes, indeed! the magistrate will tranquilly arrange the wages from now clear away down into the nineteenth century; and then all of a sudden the wage-earner will consider that a couple of thousand years or so is enough of this one-sided sort of thing; and he will rise up and take a hand in fixing his wages himself. ah, he will have a long and bitter account of wrong and humiliation to settle." "do ye believe--" "that he actually will help to fix his own wages? yes, indeed. and he will be strong and able, then." "brave times, brave times, of a truth!" sneered the prosperous smith. "oh,--and there's another detail. in that day, a master may hire a man for only just one day, or one week, or one month at a time, if he wants to." "what?" "it's true. moreover, a magistrate won't be able to force a man to work for a master a whole year on a stretch whether the man wants to or not." "will there be _no_ law or sense in that day?" "both of them, dowley. in that day a man will be his own property, not the property of magistrate and master. and he can leave town whenever he wants to, if the wages don't suit him!--and they can't put him in the pillory for it." "perdition catch such an age!" shouted dowley, in strong indignation. "an age of dogs, an age barren of reverence for superiors and respect for authority! the pillory--" "oh, wait, brother; say no good word for that institution. i think the pillory ought to be abolished." "a most strange idea. why?" "well, i'll tell you why. is a man ever put in the pillory for a capital crime?" "no." "is it right to condemn a man to a slight punishment for a small offense and then kill him?" there was no answer. i had scored my first point! for the first time, the smith wasn't up and ready. the company noticed it. good effect. "you don't answer, brother. you were about to glorify the pillory a while ago, and shed some pity on a future age that isn't going to use it. i think the pillory ought to be abolished. what usually happens when a poor fellow is put in the pillory for some little offense that didn't amount to anything in the world? the mob try to have some fun with him, don't they?" "yes." "they begin by clodding him; and they laugh themselves to pieces to see him try to dodge one clod and get hit with another?" "yes." "then they throw dead cats at him, don't they?" "yes." "well, then, suppose he has a few personal enemies in that mob and here and there a man or a woman with a secret grudge against him--and suppose especially that he is unpopular in the community, for his pride, or his prosperity, or one thing or another--stones and bricks take the place of clods and cats presently, don't they?" "there is no doubt of it." "as a rule he is crippled for life, isn't he?--jaws broken, teeth smashed out?--or legs mutilated, gangrened, presently cut off? --or an eye knocked out, maybe both eyes?" "it is true, god knoweth it." "and if he is unpopular he can depend on _dying_, right there in the stocks, can't he?" "he surely can! one may not deny it." "i take it none of _you_ are unpopular--by reason of pride or insolence, or conspicuous prosperity, or any of those things that excite envy and malice among the base scum of a village? _you_ wouldn't think it much of a risk to take a chance in the stocks?" dowley winced, visibly. i judged he was hit. but he didn't betray it by any spoken word. as for the others, they spoke out plainly, and with strong feeling. they said they had seen enough of the stocks to know what a man's chance in them was, and they would never consent to enter them if they could compromise on a quick death by hanging. "well, to change the subject--for i think i've established my point that the stocks ought to be abolished. i think some of our laws are pretty unfair. for instance, if i do a thing which ought to deliver me to the stocks, and you know i did it and yet keep still and don't report me, _you_ will get the stocks if anybody informs on you." "ah, but that would serve you but right," said dowley, "for you _must_ inform. so saith the law." the others coincided. "well, all right, let it go, since you vote me down. but there's one thing which certainly isn't fair. the magistrate fixes a mechanic's wage at one cent a day, for instance. the law says that if any master shall venture, even under utmost press of business, to pay anything _over_ that cent a day, even for a single day, he shall be both fined and pilloried for it; and whoever knows he did it and doesn't inform, they also shall be fined and pilloried. now it seems to me unfair, dowley, and a deadly peril to all of us, that because you thoughtlessly confessed, a while ago, that within a week you have paid a cent and fifteen mil--" oh, i tell _you_ it was a smasher! you ought to have seen them to go to pieces, the whole gang. i had just slipped up on poor smiling and complacent dowley so nice and easy and softly, that he never suspected anything was going to happen till the blow came crashing down and knocked him all to rags. a fine effect. in fact, as fine as any i ever produced, with so little time to work it up in. but i saw in a moment that i had overdone the thing a little. i was expecting to scare them, but i wasn't expecting to scare them to death. they were mighty near it, though. you see they had been a whole lifetime learning to appreciate the pillory; and to have that thing staring them in the face, and every one of them distinctly at the mercy of me, a stranger, if i chose to go and report--well, it was awful, and they couldn't seem to recover from the shock, they couldn't seem to pull themselves together. pale, shaky, dumb, pitiful? why, they weren't any better than so many dead men. it was very uncomfortable. of course, i thought they would appeal to me to keep mum, and then we would shake hands, and take a drink all round, and laugh it off, and there an end. but no; you see i was an unknown person, among a cruelly oppressed and suspicious people, a people always accustomed to having advantage taken of their helplessness, and never expecting just or kind treatment from any but their own families and very closest intimates. appeal to _me_ to be gentle, to be fair, to be generous? of course, they wanted to, but they couldn't dare. chapter xxxiv the yankee and the king sold as slaves well, what had i better do? nothing in a hurry, sure. i must get up a diversion; anything to employ me while i could think, and while these poor fellows could have a chance to come to life again. there sat marco, petrified in the act of trying to get the hang of his miller-gun--turned to stone, just in the attitude he was in when my pile-driver fell, the toy still gripped in his unconscious fingers. so i took it from him and proposed to explain its mystery. mystery! a simple little thing like that; and yet it was mysterious enough, for that race and that age. i never saw such an awkward people, with machinery; you see, they were totally unused to it. the miller-gun was a little double-barreled tube of toughened glass, with a neat little trick of a spring to it, which upon pressure would let a shot escape. but the shot wouldn't hurt anybody, it would only drop into your hand. in the gun were two sizes--wee mustard-seed shot, and another sort that were several times larger. they were money. the mustard-seed shot represented milrays, the larger ones mills. so the gun was a purse; and very handy, too; you could pay out money in the dark with it, with accuracy; and you could carry it in your mouth; or in your vest pocket, if you had one. i made them of several sizes --one size so large that it would carry the equivalent of a dollar. using shot for money was a good thing for the government; the metal cost nothing, and the money couldn't be counterfeited, for i was the only person in the kingdom who knew how to manage a shot tower. "paying the shot" soon came to be a common phrase. yes, and i knew it would still be passing men's lips, away down in the nineteenth century, yet none would suspect how and when it originated. the king joined us, about this time, mightily refreshed by his nap, and feeling good. anything could make me nervous now, i was so uneasy--for our lives were in danger; and so it worried me to detect a complacent something in the king's eye which seemed to indicate that he had been loading himself up for a performance of some kind or other; confound it, why must he go and choose such a time as this? i was right. he began, straight off, in the most innocently artful, and transparent, and lubberly way, to lead up to the subject of agriculture. the cold sweat broke out all over me. i wanted to whisper in his ear, "man, we are in awful danger! every moment is worth a principality till we get back these men's confidence; _don't_ waste any of this golden time." but of course i couldn't do it. whisper to him? it would look as if we were conspiring. so i had to sit there and look calm and pleasant while the king stood over that dynamite mine and mooned along about his damned onions and things. at first the tumult of my own thoughts, summoned by the danger-signal and swarming to the rescue from every quarter of my skull, kept up such a hurrah and confusion and fifing and drumming that i couldn't take in a word; but presently when my mob of gathering plans began to crystallize and fall into position and form line of battle, a sort of order and quiet ensued and i caught the boom of the king's batteries, as if out of remote distance: "--were not the best way, methinks, albeit it is not to be denied that authorities differ as concerning this point, some contending that the onion is but an unwholesome berry when stricken early from the tree--" the audience showed signs of life, and sought each other's eyes in a surprised and troubled way. "--whileas others do yet maintain, with much show of reason, that this is not of necessity the case, instancing that plums and other like cereals do be always dug in the unripe state--" the audience exhibited distinct distress; yes, and also fear. "--yet are they clearly wholesome, the more especially when one doth assuage the asperities of their nature by admixture of the tranquilizing juice of the wayward cabbage--" the wild light of terror began to glow in these men's eyes, and one of them muttered, "these be errors, every one--god hath surely smitten the mind of this farmer." i was in miserable apprehension; i sat upon thorns. "--and further instancing the known truth that in the case of animals, the young, which may be called the green fruit of the creature, is the better, all confessing that when a goat is ripe, his fur doth heat and sore engame his flesh, the which defect, taken in connection with his several rancid habits, and fulsome appetites, and godless attitudes of mind, and bilious quality of morals--" they rose and went for him! with a fierce shout, "the one would betray us, the other is mad! kill them! kill them!" they flung themselves upon us. what joy flamed up in the king's eye! he might be lame in agriculture, but this kind of thing was just in his line. he had been fasting long, he was hungry for a fight. he hit the blacksmith a crack under the jaw that lifted him clear off his feet and stretched him flat on his back. "st. george for britain!" and he downed the wheelwright. the mason was big, but i laid him out like nothing. the three gathered themselves up and came again; went down again; came again; and kept on repeating this, with native british pluck, until they were battered to jelly, reeling with exhaustion, and so blind that they couldn't tell us from each other; and yet they kept right on, hammering away with what might was left in them. hammering each other--for we stepped aside and looked on while they rolled, and struggled, and gouged, and pounded, and bit, with the strict and wordless attention to business of so many bulldogs. we looked on without apprehension, for they were fast getting past ability to go for help against us, and the arena was far enough from the public road to be safe from intrusion. well, while they were gradually playing out, it suddenly occurred to me to wonder what had become of marco. i looked around; he was nowhere to be seen. oh, but this was ominous! i pulled the king's sleeve, and we glided away and rushed for the hut. no marco there, no phyllis there! they had gone to the road for help, sure. i told the king to give his heels wings, and i would explain later. we made good time across the open ground, and as we darted into the shelter of the wood i glanced back and saw a mob of excited peasants swarm into view, with marco and his wife at their head. they were making a world of noise, but that couldn't hurt anybody; the wood was dense, and as soon as we were well into its depths we would take to a tree and let them whistle. ah, but then came another sound--dogs! yes, that was quite another matter. it magnified our contract--we must find running water. we tore along at a good gait, and soon left the sounds far behind and modified to a murmur. we struck a stream and darted into it. we waded swiftly down it, in the dim forest light, for as much as three hundred yards, and then came across an oak with a great bough sticking out over the water. we climbed up on this bough, and began to work our way along it to the body of the tree; now we began to hear those sounds more plainly; so the mob had struck our trail. for a while the sounds approached pretty fast. and then for another while they didn't. no doubt the dogs had found the place where we had entered the stream, and were now waltzing up and down the shores trying to pick up the trail again. when we were snugly lodged in the tree and curtained with foliage, the king was satisfied, but i was doubtful. i believed we could crawl along a branch and get into the next tree, and i judged it worth while to try. we tried it, and made a success of it, though the king slipped, at the junction, and came near failing to connect. we got comfortable lodgment and satisfactory concealment among the foliage, and then we had nothing to do but listen to the hunt. presently we heard it coming--and coming on the jump, too; yes, and down both sides of the stream. louder--louder--next minute it swelled swiftly up into a roar of shoutings, barkings, tramplings, and swept by like a cyclone. "i was afraid that the overhanging branch would suggest something to them," said i, "but i don't mind the disappointment. come, my liege, it were well that we make good use of our time. we've flanked them. dark is coming on, presently. if we can cross the stream and get a good start, and borrow a couple of horses from somebody's pasture to use for a few hours, we shall be safe enough." we started down, and got nearly to the lowest limb, when we seemed to hear the hunt returning. we stopped to listen. "yes," said i, "they're baffled, they've given it up, they're on their way home. we will climb back to our roost again, and let them go by." so we climbed back. the king listened a moment and said: "they still search--i wit the sign. we did best to abide." he was right. he knew more about hunting than i did. the noise approached steadily, but not with a rush. the king said: "they reason that we were advantaged by no parlous start of them, and being on foot are as yet no mighty way from where we took the water." "yes, sire, that is about it, i am afraid, though i was hoping better things." the noise drew nearer and nearer, and soon the van was drifting under us, on both sides of the water. a voice called a halt from the other bank, and said: "an they were so minded, they could get to yon tree by this branch that overhangs, and yet not touch ground. ye will do well to send a man up it." "marry, that we will do!" i was obliged to admire my cuteness in foreseeing this very thing and swapping trees to beat it. but, don't you know, there are some things that can beat smartness and foresight? awkwardness and stupidity can. the best swordsman in the world doesn't need to fear the second best swordsman in the world; no, the person for him to be afraid of is some ignorant antagonist who has never had a sword in his hand before; he doesn't do the thing he ought to do, and so the expert isn't prepared for him; he does the thing he ought not to do; and often it catches the expert out and ends him on the spot. well, how could i, with all my gifts, make any valuable preparation against a near-sighted, cross-eyed, pudding-headed clown who would aim himself at the wrong tree and hit the right one? and that is what he did. he went for the wrong tree, which was, of course, the right one by mistake, and up he started. matters were serious now. we remained still, and awaited developments. the peasant toiled his difficult way up. the king raised himself up and stood; he made a leg ready, and when the comer's head arrived in reach of it there was a dull thud, and down went the man floundering to the ground. there was a wild outbreak of anger below, and the mob swarmed in from all around, and there we were treed, and prisoners. another man started up; the bridging bough was detected, and a volunteer started up the tree that furnished the bridge. the king ordered me to play horatius and keep the bridge. for a while the enemy came thick and fast; but no matter, the head man of each procession always got a buffet that dislodged him as soon as he came in reach. the king's spirits rose, his joy was limitless. he said that if nothing occurred to mar the prospect we should have a beautiful night, for on this line of tactics we could hold the tree against the whole country-side. however, the mob soon came to that conclusion themselves; wherefore they called off the assault and began to debate other plans. they had no weapons, but there were plenty of stones, and stones might answer. we had no objections. a stone might possibly penetrate to us once in a while, but it wasn't very likely; we were well protected by boughs and foliage, and were not visible from any good aiming point. if they would but waste half an hour in stone-throwing, the dark would come to our help. we were feeling very well satisfied. we could smile; almost laugh. but we didn't; which was just as well, for we should have been interrupted. before the stones had been raging through the leaves and bouncing from the boughs fifteen minutes, we began to notice a smell. a couple of sniffs of it was enough of an explanation --it was smoke! our game was up at last. we recognized that. when smoke invites you, you have to come. they raised their pile of dry brush and damp weeds higher and higher, and when they saw the thick cloud begin to roll up and smother the tree, they broke out in a storm of joy-clamors. i got enough breath to say: "proceed, my liege; after you is manners." the king gasped: "follow me down, and then back thyself against one side of the trunk, and leave me the other. then will we fight. let each pile his dead according to his own fashion and taste." then he descended, barking and coughing, and i followed. i struck the ground an instant after him; we sprang to our appointed places, and began to give and take with all our might. the powwow and racket were prodigious; it was a tempest of riot and confusion and thick-falling blows. suddenly some horsemen tore into the midst of the crowd, and a voice shouted: "hold--or ye are dead men!" how good it sounded! the owner of the voice bore all the marks of a gentleman: picturesque and costly raiment, the aspect of command, a hard countenance, with complexion and features marred by dissipation. the mob fell humbly back, like so many spaniels. the gentleman inspected us critically, then said sharply to the peasants: "what are ye doing to these people?" "they be madmen, worshipful sir, that have come wandering we know not whence, and--" "ye know not whence? do ye pretend ye know them not?" "most honored sir, we speak but the truth. they are strangers and unknown to any in this region; and they be the most violent and bloodthirsty madmen that ever--" "peace! ye know not what ye say. they are not mad. who are ye? and whence are ye? explain." "we are but peaceful strangers, sir," i said, "and traveling upon our own concerns. we are from a far country, and unacquainted here. we have purposed no harm; and yet but for your brave interference and protection these people would have killed us. as you have divined, sir, we are not mad; neither are we violent or bloodthirsty." the gentleman turned to his retinue and said calmly: "lash me these animals to their kennels!" the mob vanished in an instant; and after them plunged the horsemen, laying about them with their whips and pitilessly riding down such as were witless enough to keep the road instead of taking to the bush. the shrieks and supplications presently died away in the distance, and soon the horsemen began to straggle back. meantime the gentleman had been questioning us more closely, but had dug no particulars out of us. we were lavish of recognition of the service he was doing us, but we revealed nothing more than that we were friendless strangers from a far country. when the escort were all returned, the gentleman said to one of his servants: "bring the led-horses and mount these people." "yes, my lord." we were placed toward the rear, among the servants. we traveled pretty fast, and finally drew rein some time after dark at a roadside inn some ten or twelve miles from the scene of our troubles. my lord went immediately to his room, after ordering his supper, and we saw no more of him. at dawn in the morning we breakfasted and made ready to start. my lord's chief attendant sauntered forward at that moment with indolent grace, and said: "ye have said ye should continue upon this road, which is our direction likewise; wherefore my lord, the earl grip, hath given commandment that ye retain the horses and ride, and that certain of us ride with ye a twenty mile to a fair town that hight cambenet, whenso ye shall be out of peril." we could do nothing less than express our thanks and accept the offer. we jogged along, six in the party, at a moderate and comfortable gait, and in conversation learned that my lord grip was a very great personage in his own region, which lay a day's journey beyond cambenet. we loitered to such a degree that it was near the middle of the forenoon when we entered the market square of the town. we dismounted, and left our thanks once more for my lord, and then approached a crowd assembled in the center of the square, to see what might be the object of interest. it was the remnant of that old peregrinating band of slaves! so they had been dragging their chains about, all this weary time. that poor husband was gone, and also many others; and some few purchases had been added to the gang. the king was not interested, and wanted to move along, but i was absorbed, and full of pity. i could not take my eyes away from these worn and wasted wrecks of humanity. there they sat, grounded upon the ground, silent, uncomplaining, with bowed heads, a pathetic sight. and by hideous contrast, a redundant orator was making a speech to another gathering not thirty steps away, in fulsome laudation of "our glorious british liberties!" i was boiling. i had forgotten i was a plebeian, i was remembering i was a man. cost what it might, i would mount that rostrum and-click! the king and i were handcuffed together! our companions, those servants, had done it; my lord grip stood looking on. the king burst out in a fury, and said: "what meaneth this ill-mannered jest?" my lord merely said to his head miscreant, coolly: "put up the slaves and sell them!" _slaves!_ the word had a new sound--and how unspeakably awful! the king lifted his manacles and brought them down with a deadly force; but my lord was out of the way when they arrived. a dozen of the rascal's servants sprang forward, and in a moment we were helpless, with our hands bound behind us. we so loudly and so earnestly proclaimed ourselves freemen, that we got the interested attention of that liberty-mouthing orator and his patriotic crowd, and they gathered about us and assumed a very determined attitude. the orator said: "if, indeed, ye are freemen, ye have nought to fear--the god-given liberties of britain are about ye for your shield and shelter! (applause.) ye shall soon see. bring forth your proofs." "what proofs?" "proof that ye are freemen." ah--i remembered! i came to myself; i said nothing. but the king stormed out: "thou'rt insane, man. it were better, and more in reason, that this thief and scoundrel here prove that we are _not_ freemen." you see, he knew his own laws just as other people so often know the laws; by words, not by effects. they take a _meaning_, and get to be very vivid, when you come to apply them to yourself. all hands shook their heads and looked disappointed; some turned away, no longer interested. the orator said--and this time in the tones of business, not of sentiment: "an ye do not know your country's laws, it were time ye learned them. ye are strangers to us; ye will not deny that. ye may be freemen, we do not deny that; but also ye may be slaves. the law is clear: it doth not require the claimant to prove ye are slaves, it requireth you to prove ye are not." i said: "dear sir, give us only time to send to astolat; or give us only time to send to the valley of holiness--" "peace, good man, these are extraordinary requests, and you may not hope to have them granted. it would cost much time, and would unwarrantably inconvenience your master--" "_master_, idiot!" stormed the king. "i have no master, i myself am the m--" "silence, for god's sake!" i got the words out in time to stop the king. we were in trouble enough already; it could not help us any to give these people the notion that we were lunatics. there is no use in stringing out the details. the earl put us up and sold us at auction. this same infernal law had existed in our own south in my own time, more than thirteen hundred years later, and under it hundreds of freemen who could not prove that they were freemen had been sold into lifelong slavery without the circumstance making any particular impression upon me; but the minute law and the auction block came into my personal experience, a thing which had been merely improper before became suddenly hellish. well, that's the way we are made. yes, we were sold at auction, like swine. in a big town and an active market we should have brought a good price; but this place was utterly stagnant and so we sold at a figure which makes me ashamed, every time i think of it. the king of england brought seven dollars, and his prime minister nine; whereas the king was easily worth twelve dollars and i as easily worth fifteen. but that is the way things always go; if you force a sale on a dull market, i don't care what the property is, you are going to make a poor business of it, and you can make up your mind to it. if the earl had had wit enough to-however, there is no occasion for my working my sympathies up on his account. let him go, for the present; i took his number, so to speak. the slave-dealer bought us both, and hitched us onto that long chain of his, and we constituted the rear of his procession. we took up our line of march and passed out of cambenet at noon; and it seemed to me unaccountably strange and odd that the king of england and his chief minister, marching manacled and fettered and yoked, in a slave convoy, could move by all manner of idle men and women, and under windows where sat the sweet and the lovely, and yet never attract a curious eye, never provoke a single remark. dear, dear, it only shows that there is nothing diviner about a king than there is about a tramp, after all. he is just a cheap and hollow artificiality when you don't know he is a king. but reveal his quality, and dear me it takes your very breath away to look at him. i reckon we are all fools. born so, no doubt. chapter xxxv a pitiful incident it's a world of surprises. the king brooded; this was natural. what would he brood about, should you say? why, about the prodigious nature of his fall, of course--from the loftiest place in the world to the lowest; from the most illustrious station in the world to the obscurest; from the grandest vocation among men to the basest. no, i take my oath that the thing that graveled him most, to start with, was not this, but the price he had fetched! he couldn't seem to get over that seven dollars. well, it stunned me so, when i first found it out, that i couldn't believe it; it didn't seem natural. but as soon as my mental sight cleared and i got a right focus on it, i saw i was mistaken; it _was_ natural. for this reason: a king is a mere artificiality, and so a king's feelings, like the impulses of an automatic doll, are mere artificialities; but as a man, he is a reality, and his feelings, as a man, are real, not phantoms. it shames the average man to be valued below his own estimate of his worth, and the king certainly wasn't anything more than an average man, if he was up that high. confound him, he wearied me with arguments to show that in anything like a fair market he would have fetched twenty-five dollars, sure--a thing which was plainly nonsense, and full or the baldest conceit; i wasn't worth it myself. but it was tender ground for me to argue on. in fact, i had to simply shirk argument and do the diplomatic instead. i had to throw conscience aside, and brazenly concede that he ought to have brought twenty-five dollars; whereas i was quite well aware that in all the ages, the world had never seen a king that was worth half the money, and during the next thirteen centuries wouldn't see one that was worth the fourth of it. yes, he tired me. if he began to talk about the crops; or about the recent weather; or about the condition of politics; or about dogs, or cats, or morals, or theology--no matter what --i sighed, for i knew what was coming; he was going to get out of it a palliation of that tiresome seven-dollar sale. wherever we halted where there was a crowd, he would give me a look which said plainly: "if that thing could be tried over again now, with this kind of folk, you would see a different result." well, when he was first sold, it secretly tickled me to see him go for seven dollars; but before he was done with his sweating and worrying i wished he had fetched a hundred. the thing never got a chance to die, for every day, at one place or another, possible purchasers looked us over, and, as often as any other way, their comment on the king was something like this: "here's a two-dollar-and-a-half chump with a thirty-dollar style. pity but style was marketable." at last this sort of remark produced an evil result. our owner was a practical person and he perceived that this defect must be mended if he hoped to find a purchaser for the king. so he went to work to take the style out of his sacred majesty. i could have given the man some valuable advice, but i didn't; you mustn't volunteer advice to a slave-driver unless you want to damage the cause you are arguing for. i had found it a sufficiently difficult job to reduce the king's style to a peasant's style, even when he was a willing and anxious pupil; now then, to undertake to reduce the king's style to a slave's style--and by force--go to! it was a stately contract. never mind the details--it will save me trouble to let you imagine them. i will only remark that at the end of a week there was plenty of evidence that lash and club and fist had done their work well; the king's body was a sight to see--and to weep over; but his spirit?--why, it wasn't even phased. even that dull clod of a slave-driver was able to see that there can be such a thing as a slave who will remain a man till he dies; whose bones you can break, but whose manhood you can't. this man found that from his first effort down to his latest, he couldn't ever come within reach of the king, but the king was ready to plunge for him, and did it. so he gave up at last, and left the king in possession of his style unimpaired. the fact is, the king was a good deal more than a king, he was a man; and when a man is a man, you can't knock it out of him. we had a rough time for a month, tramping to and fro in the earth, and suffering. and what englishman was the most interested in the slavery question by that time? his grace the king! yes; from being the most indifferent, he was become the most interested. he was become the bitterest hater of the institution i had ever heard talk. and so i ventured to ask once more a question which i had asked years before and had gotten such a sharp answer that i had not thought it prudent to meddle in the matter further. would he abolish slavery? his answer was as sharp as before, but it was music this time; i shouldn't ever wish to hear pleasanter, though the profanity was not good, being awkwardly put together, and with the crash-word almost in the middle instead of at the end, where, of course, it ought to have been. i was ready and willing to get free now; i hadn't wanted to get free any sooner. no, i cannot quite say that. i had wanted to, but i had not been willing to take desperate chances, and had always dissuaded the king from them. but now--ah, it was a new atmosphere! liberty would be worth any cost that might be put upon it now. i set about a plan, and was straightway charmed with it. it would require time, yes, and patience, too, a great deal of both. one could invent quicker ways, and fully as sure ones; but none that would be as picturesque as this; none that could be made so dramatic. and so i was not going to give this one up. it might delay us months, but no matter, i would carry it out or break something. now and then we had an adventure. one night we were overtaken by a snow-storm while still a mile from the village we were making for. almost instantly we were shut up as in a fog, the driving snow was so thick. you couldn't see a thing, and we were soon lost. the slave-driver lashed us desperately, for he saw ruin before him, but his lashings only made matters worse, for they drove us further from the road and from likelihood of succor. so we had to stop at last and slump down in the snow where we were. the storm continued until toward midnight, then ceased. by this time two of our feebler men and three of our women were dead, and others past moving and threatened with death. our master was nearly beside himself. he stirred up the living, and made us stand, jump, slap ourselves, to restore our circulation, and he helped as well as he could with his whip. now came a diversion. we heard shrieks and yells, and soon a woman came running and crying; and seeing our group, she flung herself into our midst and begged for protection. a mob of people came tearing after her, some with torches, and they said she was a witch who had caused several cows to die by a strange disease, and practiced her arts by help of a devil in the form of a black cat. this poor woman had been stoned until she hardly looked human, she was so battered and bloody. the mob wanted to burn her. well, now, what do you suppose our master did? when we closed around this poor creature to shelter her, he saw his chance. he said, burn her here, or they shouldn't have her at all. imagine that! they were willing. they fastened her to a post; they brought wood and piled it about her; they applied the torch while she shrieked and pleaded and strained her two young daughters to her breast; and our brute, with a heart solely for business, lashed us into position about the stake and warmed us into life and commercial value by the same fire which took away the innocent life of that poor harmless mother. that was the sort of master we had. i took _his_ number. that snow-storm cost him nine of his flock; and he was more brutal to us than ever, after that, for many days together, he was so enraged over his loss. we had adventures all along. one day we ran into a procession. and such a procession! all the riffraff of the kingdom seemed to be comprehended in it; and all drunk at that. in the van was a cart with a coffin in it, and on the coffin sat a comely young girl of about eighteen suckling a baby, which she squeezed to her breast in a passion of love every little while, and every little while wiped from its face the tears which her eyes rained down upon it; and always the foolish little thing smiled up at her, happy and content, kneading her breast with its dimpled fat hand, which she patted and fondled right over her breaking heart. men and women, boys and girls, trotted along beside or after the cart, hooting, shouting profane and ribald remarks, singing snatches of foul song, skipping, dancing--a very holiday of hellions, a sickening sight. we had struck a suburb of london, outside the walls, and this was a sample of one sort of london society. our master secured a good place for us near the gallows. a priest was in attendance, and he helped the girl climb up, and said comforting words to her, and made the under-sheriff provide a stool for her. then he stood there by her on the gallows, and for a moment looked down upon the mass of upturned faces at his feet, then out over the solid pavement of heads that stretched away on every side occupying the vacancies far and near, and then began to tell the story of the case. and there was pity in his voice --how seldom a sound that was in that ignorant and savage land! i remember every detail of what he said, except the words he said it in; and so i change it into my own words: "law is intended to mete out justice. sometimes it fails. this cannot be helped. we can only grieve, and be resigned, and pray for the soul of him who falls unfairly by the arm of the law, and that his fellows may be few. a law sends this poor young thing to death--and it is right. but another law had placed her where she must commit her crime or starve with her child--and before god that law is responsible for both her crime and her ignominious death! "a little while ago this young thing, this child of eighteen years, was as happy a wife and mother as any in england; and her lips were blithe with song, which is the native speech of glad and innocent hearts. her young husband was as happy as she; for he was doing his whole duty, he worked early and late at his handicraft, his bread was honest bread well and fairly earned, he was prospering, he was furnishing shelter and sustenance to his family, he was adding his mite to the wealth of the nation. by consent of a treacherous law, instant destruction fell upon this holy home and swept it away! that young husband was waylaid and impressed, and sent to sea. the wife knew nothing of it. she sought him everywhere, she moved the hardest hearts with the supplications of her tears, the broken eloquence of her despair. weeks dragged by, she watching, waiting, hoping, her mind going slowly to wreck under the burden of her misery. little by little all her small possessions went for food. when she could no longer pay her rent, they turned her out of doors. she begged, while she had strength; when she was starving at last, and her milk failing, she stole a piece of linen cloth of the value of a fourth part of a cent, thinking to sell it and save her child. but she was seen by the owner of the cloth. she was put in jail and brought to trial. the man testified to the facts. a plea was made for her, and her sorrowful story was told in her behalf. she spoke, too, by permission, and said she did steal the cloth, but that her mind was so disordered of late by trouble that when she was overborne with hunger all acts, criminal or other, swam meaningless through her brain and she knew nothing rightly, except that she was so hungry! for a moment all were touched, and there was disposition to deal mercifully with her, seeing that she was so young and friendless, and her case so piteous, and the law that robbed her of her support to blame as being the first and only cause of her transgression; but the prosecuting officer replied that whereas these things were all true, and most pitiful as well, still there was much small theft in these days, and mistimed mercy here would be a danger to property--oh, my god, is there no property in ruined homes, and orphaned babes, and broken hearts that british law holds precious!--and so he must require sentence. "when the judge put on his black cap, the owner of the stolen linen rose trembling up, his lip quivering, his face as gray as ashes; and when the awful words came, he cried out, 'oh, poor child, poor child, i did not know it was death!' and fell as a tree falls. when they lifted him up his reason was gone; before the sun was set, he had taken his own life. a kindly man; a man whose heart was right, at bottom; add his murder to this that is to be now done here; and charge them both where they belong --to the rulers and the bitter laws of britain. the time is come, my child; let me pray over thee--not _for_ thee, dear abused poor heart and innocent, but for them that be guilty of thy ruin and death, who need it more." after his prayer they put the noose around the young girl's neck, and they had great trouble to adjust the knot under her ear, because she was devouring the baby all the time, wildly kissing it, and snatching it to her face and her breast, and drenching it with tears, and half moaning, half shrieking all the while, and the baby crowing, and laughing, and kicking its feet with delight over what it took for romp and play. even the hangman couldn't stand it, but turned away. when all was ready the priest gently pulled and tugged and forced the child out of the mother's arms, and stepped quickly out of her reach; but she clasped her hands, and made a wild spring toward him, with a shriek; but the rope--and the under-sheriff--held her short. then she went on her knees and stretched out her hands and cried: "one more kiss--oh, my god, one more, one more,--it is the dying that begs it!" she got it; she almost smothered the little thing. and when they got it away again, she cried out: "oh, my child, my darling, it will die! it has no home, it has no father, no friend, no mother--" "it has them all!" said that good priest. "all these will i be to it till i die." you should have seen her face then! gratitude? lord, what do you want with words to express that? words are only painted fire; a look is the fire itself. she gave that look, and carried it away to the treasury of heaven, where all things that are divine belong. history of the britons (historia brittonum) by nennius translated by j. a. giles i. the prologue. 1. nennius, the lowly minister and servant of the servants of god, by the grace of god, disciple of st. elbotus,* to all the followers of truth sendeth health. * or elvod, bishop of bangor, a.d. 755, who first adopted in the cambrian church the new cycle for regulating easter. be it known to your charity, that being dull in intellect and rude of speech, i have presumed to deliver these things in the latin tongue, not trusting to my own learning, which is little or none at all, but partly from traditions of our ancestors, partly from writings and monuments of the ancient inhabitants of britain, partly from the annals of the romans, and the chronicles of the sacred fathers, isidore, hieronymus, prosper, eusebius, and from the histories of the scots and saxons, although our enemies, not following my own inclinations, but, to the best of my ability, obeying the commands of my seniors; i have lispingly put together this history from various sources, and have endeavored, from shame, to deliver down to posterity the few remaining ears of corn about past transactions, that they might not be trodden under foot, seeing that an ample crop has been snatched away already by the hostile reapers of foreign nations. for many things have been in my way, and i, to this day, have hardly been able to understand, even superficially, as was necessary, the sayings of other men; much less was i able in my own strength, but like a barbarian, have i murdered and defiled the language of others. but i bore about with me an inward wound, and i was indignant, that the name of my own people, formerly famous and distinguished, should sink into oblivion, and like smoke be dissipated. but since, however, i had rather myself be the historian of the britons than nobody, although so many are to be found who might much more satisfactorily discharge the labour thus imposed on me; i humbly entreat my readers, whose ears i may offend by the inelegance of my words, that they will fulfil the wish of my seniors, and grant me the easy task of listening with candour to my history. for zealous efforts very often fail: but bold enthusiasm, were it in its power, would not suffer me to fail. may, therefore, candour be shown where the inelegance of my words is insufficient, and may the truth of this history, which my rustic tongue has ventured, as a kind of plough, to trace out in furrows, lose none of its influence from that cause, in the ears of my hearers. for it is better to drink a wholesome draught of truth from the humble vessel, than poison mixed with honey from a golden goblet. 2. and do not be loath, diligent reader, to winnow my chaff, and lay up the wheat in the storehouse of your memory: for truth regards not who is the speaker, nor in what manner it is spoken, but that the thing be true; and she does not despise the jewel which she has rescued from the mud, but she adds it to her former treasures. for i yield to those who are greater and more eloquent than myself, who, kindled with generous ardour, have endeavoured by roman eloquence to smooth the jarring elements of their tongue, if they have left unshaken any pillar of history which i wished to see remain. this history therefore has been compiled from a wish to benefit my inferiors, not from envy of those who are superior to me, in the 858th year of our lord's incarnation, and in the 24th year of mervin, king of the britons, and i hope that the prayers of my betters will be offered up for me in recompence of my labour. but this is sufficient by way of preface. i shall obediently accomplish the rest to the utmost of my power. ii. the apology of nennius here begins the apology of nennius, the historiographer of the britons, of the race of the britons. 3. i, nennius, disciple of st. elbotus, have endeavoured to write some extracts which the dulness of the british nation had cast away, because teachers had no knowledge, nor gave any information in their books about this island of britain. but i have got together all that i could find as well from the annals of the romans as from the chronicles of the sacred fathers, hieronymus, eusebius, isidorus, prosper, and from the annals of the scots and saxons, and from our ancient traditions. many teachers and scribes have attempted to write this, but somehow or other have abandoned it from its difficulty, either on account of frequent deaths, or the often recurring calamities of war. i pray that every reader who shall read this book, may pardon me, for having attempted, like a chattering jay, or like some weak witness, to write these things, after they had failed. i yield to him who knows more of these things than i do. iii. the history. 4, 5. from adam to the flood, are two thousand and forty-two years. from the flood of abraham, nine hundred and forty-two. from abraham to moses, six hundred.* from moses to solomon, and the first building of the temple, four hundred and forty-eight. from solomon to the rebuilding of the temple, which was under darius, king of the persians, six hundred and twelve years are computed. from darius to the ministry of our lord jesus christ, and to the fifteenth year of the emperor tiberius, are five hundred and forty-eight years. so that from adam to the ministry of christ and the fifteenth year of the emperor tiberius, are five thousand two hundred and twenty-eight years. from the passion of christ are completed nine hundred and forty-six; from his incarnation, nine hundred and seventy-six: being the fifth year of edmund, king of the angles. * and forty, according to stevenson's new edition. the rest of this chronology is much contracted in several of the manuscripts, and hardly two of them contain it exactly the same. 6. the first age of the world is from adam to noah; the second from noah to abraham; the third from abraham to david; the fourth from david to daniel; the fifth to john the baptist; the sixth from john to the judgment, when our lord jesus christ will come to judge the living and the dead, and the world by fire. the first julius. the second claudius. the third severus. the fourth carinus. the fifth constantius. the sixth maximus. the seventh maximianus. the eighth another severus aequantius. the ninth constantius.* * this list of the roman emperors who visited britain, is omitted in many of the mss. here beginneth the history of the britons, edited by mark the anchorite, a holy bishop of that people. 7. the island of britain derives its name from brutus, a roman consul. taken from the south-west point it inclines a little towards the west, and to its northern extremity measures eight hundred miles, and is in breadth two hundred. it contains thirty three cities,(1) viz. 1. cair ebrauc (york). 2. cair ceint (canterbury). 3. cair gurcoc (anglesey?). 4. cair guorthegern (2) 5. cair custeint (carnarvon). 6. cair guoranegon (worcester). 7. cair segeint (silchester). 8. cair guin truis (norwich, or winwick). 9. cair merdin (caermarthen). 10. cair peris (porchester). 11. cair lion (caerleon-upon-usk). 12. cair mencipit (verulam). 13. cair caratauc (catterick). 14. cair ceri (cirencester). 15. cair glout (gloucester). 16. cair luillid (carlisle). 17. cair grant (grantchester, now cambridge). 18. cair daun (doncaster), or cair dauri (dorchester). 19. cair britoc (bristol). 20. cair meguaid (meivod). 21. cair mauiguid (manchester). 22. cair ligion (chester). 23. cair guent (winchester, or caerwent, in monmouthshire). 24. cair collon (colchester, or st. colon, cornwall). 25. cair londein (london). 26. cair guorcon (worren, or woran, in pembrokeshire). 27. cair lerion (leicester). 28. cair draithou (drayton). 29. cair pensavelcoit (pevensey, in sussex). 30. cairtelm (teyn-grace, in devonshire). 31. cair urnahc (wroxeter, in shropshire). 32. cair colemion (camelet, in somersetshire). 33. cair loit coit (lincoln). (1) v.r. twenty-eight, twenty-one. (2) site unknown. these are the names of the ancient cities of the island of britain. it has also a vast many promontories, and castles innumerable, built of brick and stone. its inhabitants consist of four different people; the scots, the picts, the saxons and the ancient britons. 8. three considerable islands belong to it; one, on the south, opposite the armorican shore, called wight;* another between ireland and britain, called eubonia or man; and another directly north, beyond the picts, named orkney; and hence it was anciently a proverbial expression, in reference to its kings and rulers, "he reigned over britain and its three islands." * inis-gueith, or gueith. 6. it is fertilized by several rivers, which traverse it in all directions, to the east and west, to the south and north; but there are two pre-eminently distinguished among the rest, the thames and the severn, which formerly, like the two arms of britain, bore the ships employed in the conveyance of riches acquired by commerce. the britons were once very populous, and exercised extensive dominion from sea to sea. 10.* respecting the period when this island became inhabited subsequently to the flood, i have seen two distinct relations. according to the annals of the roman history, the britons deduce their origin both from the greeks and romans. on the side of the mother, from lavinia, the daughter of latinus, king of italy, and of the race of silvanus, the son of inachus, the son of dardanus; who was the son of saturn, king of the greeks, and who, having possessed himself of a part of asia, built the city of troy. dardanus was the father of troius, who was the father of priam and anchises; anchises was the father of aeneas, who was the father of ascanius and silvius; and this silvius was the son of aeneas and lavinia, the daughter of the king of italy. from the sons of aeneas and lavinia descended romulus and remus, who were the sons of the holy queen rhea, and the founders of rome. brutus was consul when he conquered spain, and reduced that country to a roman province. he afterwards subdued the island of britain, whose inhabitants were the descendants of the romans, from silvius posthumus. he was called posthumus because he was born after the death of aeneas his father; and his mother lavinia concealed herself during her pregnancy; he was called silvius, because he was born in a wood. hence the roman kings were called silvan, and the britons from brutus, and rose from the family of brutus. * the whole of this, as far as the end of the paragraph, is omitted in several mss. aeneas, after the trojan war, arrived with his son in italy; and having vanquished turnus, married lavinia, the daughter of king latinus, who was the son of faunus, the son of picus, the son of saturn. after the death of latinus, aeneas obtained the kingdom of the romans, and lavinia brought forth a son, who was named silvius. ascanius founded alba, and afterwards married. and lavinia bore to aeneas a son, named silvius; but ascanius (1) married a wife, who conceived and became pregnant. and aeneas, having been informed that his daughter-in-law was pregnant, ordered his son to send his magician to examine his wife, whether the child conceived were male or female. the magician came and examined the wife and pronounced it to be a son, who should become the most valiant among the italians, and the most beloved of all men. (2) in consequence of this prediction, the magician was put to death by ascanius; but it happened that the mother of the child dying at its birth, he was named brutus; ad after a certain interval, agreeably to what the magician had foretold, whilst he was playing with some others he shot his father with an arrow, not intentionally but by accident. (3) he was, for this cause, expelled from italy, and came to the islands of the tyrrhene sea, when he was exiled on account of the death of turnus, slain by aeneas. he then went among the gauls, and built the city of the turones, called turnis. (4) at length he came to this island named from him britannia, dwelt there, and filled it with his own descendants, and it has been inhabited from that time to the present period. (1) other mss. silvius. (2) v.r. who should slay his father and mother, and be hated by all mankind. (3) v.r. he displayed such superiority among his play fellows, that they seemed to consider him as their chief. (4) tours. 11. aeneas reigned over the latins three years; ascanius thirty three years; after whom silvius reigned twelve years, and posthumus thirty-nine * years: the latter, from whom the kings of alba are called silvan, was brother to brutus, who governed britain at the time eli the high-priest judged israel, and when the ark of the covenant was taken by a foreign people. but posthumus his brother reigned among the latins. * v.r. thirty-seven. 12. after an interval of not less than eight hundred years, came the picts, and occupied the orkney islands: whence they laid waste many regions, and seized those on the left hand side of britain, where they still remain, keeping possession of a third part of britain to this day. * * see bede's eccles. hist. 13. long after this, the scots arrived in ireland from spain. the first that came was partholomus,(1) with a thousand men and women; these increased to four thousand; but a mortality coming suddenly upon them, they all perished in one week. the second was nimech, the son of...,(2) who, according to report, after having been at sea a year and a half, and having his ships shattered, arrived at a port in ireland, and continuing there several years, returned at length with his followers to spain. after these came three sons of a spanish soldier with thirty ships, each of which contained thirty wives; and having remained there during the space of a year, there appeared to them, in the middle of the sea, a tower of glass, the summit of which seemed covered with men, to whom they often spoke, but received no answer. at length they determined to besiege the tower; and after a year's preparation, advanced towards it, with the whole number of their ships, and all the women, one ship only excepted, which had been wrecked, and in which were thirty men, and as many women; but when all had disembarked on the shore which surrounded the tower, the sea opened and swallowed them up. ireland, however, was peopled, to the present period, from the family remaining in the vessel which was wrecked. afterwards, other came from spain, and possessed themselves of various parts of britain. (1) v.r. partholomaeus, or bartholomaeus. (2) a blank is here in the ms. agnomen is found in some of the others. 14. last of all came one hoctor,(1) who continued there, and whose descendants remain there to this day. istoreth, the son of istorinus, with his followers, held dalrieta; buile had the island eubonia, and other adjacent places. the sons of liethali(2) obtained the country of the dimetae, where is a city called menavia,(3) and the province guiher and cetgueli, (4) which they held till they were expelled from every part of britain, by cunedda and his sons. (1) v.r. damhoctor, clamhoctor, and elamhoctor. (2) v.r. liethan, bethan, vethan. (3) st. david's. (4) guiher, probably the welsh district gower. cetgueli is caer kidwelly, in carmarthenshire. 15. according to the most learned among the scots, if any one desires to learn what i am now going to state, ireland was a desert, and uninhabited, when the children of israel crossed the red sea, in which, as we read in the book of the law, the egyptians who followed them were drowned. at that period, there lived among this people, with a numerous family, a scythian of noble birth, who had been banished from his country and did not go to pursue the people of god. the egyptians who were left, seeing the destruction of the great men of their nation, and fearing lest he should possess himself of their territory, took counsel together, and expelled him. thus reduced, he wandered forty-two years in africa, and arrived, with his family, at the altars of the philistines, by the lake of osiers. then passing between rusicada and the hilly country of syria, they travelled by the river malva through mauritania as far as the pillars of hercules; and crossing the tyrrhene sea, landed in spain, where they continued many years, having greatly increased and multiplied. thence, a thousand and two years after the egyptians were lost in the red sea, they passed into ireland, and the district of dalrieta.* at that period, brutus, who first exercised the consular office, reigned over the romans; and the state, which before was governed by regal power, was afterwards ruled, during four hundred and forty-seven years, by consuls, tribunes of the people, and dictators. * north-western part of antrim in ulster. the britons came to britain in the third age of the world; and in the fourth, the scots took possession of ireland. the britons who, suspecting no hostilities, were unprovided with the means of defence, were unanimously and incessantly attacked, both by the scots from the west, and by the picts from the north. a long interval after this, the romans obtained the empire of the world. 16. from the first arrival of the saxons into britain, to the fourth year of king mermenus, are computed four hundred and twenty eight years; from the nativity of our lord to the coming of st. patrick among the scots, four hundred and five years; from the death of st. patrick to that of st. bridget, forty years; and from the birth of columeille(1) to the death of st bridget four years.(2) (1) v.r. columba. (2) some mss. add, the beginning of the calculation is 23 cycles of 19 years from the incarnation of our lord to the arrival of st. patrick in ireland, and they make 438 years. and from the arrival of st. patrick to the cycle of 19 years in which we live are 22 cycles, which make 421 years. 17. i have learned another account of this brutus from the ancient books of our ancestors.* after the deluge, the three sons of noah severally occupied three different parts of the earth: shem extended his borders into asia, ham into africa, and japheth in europe. * this proves the tradition of brutus to be older than geoffrey or tyssilio, unless these notices of brutus have been interpolated in the original work of nennius. the first man that dwelt in europe was alanus, with his three sons, hisicion, armenon, and neugio. hisicion had four sons, francus, romanus, alamanus, and brutus. armenon had five sons, gothus, valagothus, cibidus, burgundus, and longobardus. neugio had three sons, vandalus, saxo, and boganus. from hisicion arose four nations--the franks, the latins, the germans, and britons: from armenon, the gothi, balagothi, cibidi, burgundi, and longobardi: from neugio, the bogari, vandali, saxones, and tarinegi. the whole of europe was subdivided into these tribes. alanus is said to have been the son of fethuir;* fethuir, the son of ogomuin, who was the son of thoi; thoi was the son of boibus, boibus of semion, semion of mair, mair of ecthactus, ecthactus of aurthack, aurthack of ethec, ethec of ooth, ooth of aber, aber of ra, ra of esraa, esraa of hisrau, hisrau of bath, bath of jobath, jobath of joham, joham of japheth, japheth of noah, noah of lamech, lamech of mathusalem, mathusalem of enoch, enoch of jared, jared of malalehel, malalehel of cainan, cainan of enos, enos of seth, seth of adam, and adam was formed by the living god. we have obtained this information respecting the original inhabitants of britain from ancient tradition. * this genealogy is different in almost all the mss. 18. the britons were thus called from brutus: brutus was the son of hisicion, hisicion was the son of alanus, alanus was the son of rhea silvia, fhea silvia was the daughter of numa pompilius, numa was the son of ascanius, ascanius of eneas, eneas of anchises, anchises of troius, troius of dardanus, dardanus of flisa, flisa of juuin, juuin of japheth; but japheth had seven sons; from the first named gomer, descended the galli; from the second, magog, the scythi and gothi; from the third, madian, the medi; from the fourth, juuan, the greeks; from the fifth, tubal, arose the hebrei, hispani, and itali; from the sixth, mosoch, sprung the cappadoces; and from the seventh, named tiras, descended the thraces: these are the sons of japheth, the son of noah, the son of lamech. 19.* the romans, having obtained the dominion of the world, sent legates or deputies to the britons to demand of them hostages and tribute, which they received from all other countries and islands; but they, fierce, disdainful, and haughty, treated the legation with contempt. * some mss. add, i will now return to the point from which i made this digression. then julius caesar, the first who had acquired absolute power at rome, highly incensed against the britons, sailed with sixty vessels to the mouth of the thames, where they suffered shipwreck whilst he fought against dolobellus, (the proconsul of the british king, who was called belinus, and who was the son of minocannus who governed all the islands of the tyrrhene sea), and thus julius caesar returned home without victory, having had his soldiers slain, and his ships shattered. 20. but after three years he again appeared with a large army, and three hundred ships, at the mouth of the thames, where he renewed hostilities. in this attempt many of his soldiers and horses were killed; for the same consul had placed iron pikes in the shallow part of the river, and this having been effected with so much skill and secrecy as to escape the notice of the roman soldiers, did them considerable injury; thus caesar was once more compelled to return without peace or victory. the romans were, therefore, a third time sent against the britons; and under the command of julius, defeated them near a place called trinovantum (london), forty-seven years before the birth of christ, and five thousand two hundred and twelve years from the creation. julius was the first exercising supreme power over the romans who invaded britain: in honour of him the romans decreed the fifth month to be called after his name. he was assassinated in the curia, in the ides of march, and octavius augustus succeeded to the empire of the world. he was the only emperor who received tribute from the britons, according to the following verse of virgil: "purpurea intexti tollunt aulaea britanni." 21. the second after him, who came into britain, was the emperor claudius, who reigned forty-seven years after the birth of christ. he carried with him war and devastation; and, though not without loss of men, he at length conquered britain. he next sailed to the orkneys, which he likewise conquered, and afterwards rendered tributary. no tribute was in his time received from the britons; but it was paid to british emperors. he reigned thirteen years and eight months. his monument is to be seen at moguntia (among the lombards), where he died in his way to rome. 22. after the birth of christ, one hundred and sixty-seven years, king lucius, with all the chiefs of the british people, received baptism, in consequence of a legation sent by the roman emperors and pope evaristus.* * v.r. eucharistus. a marginal note in the arundel ms. adds, "he is wrong, because the first year of evaristus was a.d. 79, whereas the first year of eleutherius, whom he ought to have named, was a.d. 161." usher says, that in one ms. of nennius he found the name of eleutherius. 23. severus was the third emperor who passed the sea to britain, where, to protect the provinces recovered from barbaric incursions, he ordered a wall and a rampart to be made between the britons, the scots, and the picts, extending across the island from sea to sea, in length one hundred and thirty-three miles: and it is called in the british language gwal.* moreover, he ordered it to be made between the britons, and the picts and scots; for the scots from the west, and the picts from the north, unanimously made war against the britons; but were at peace among themselves. not long after severus dies in britain. *or, the wall. one ms. here adds, "the above-mentioned severus constructed it of rude workmanship in length 132 miles; i.e. from penguaul, which village is called in scottish cenail, in english peneltun, to the mouth of the river cluth and cairpentaloch, where this wall terminates; but it was of no avail. the emperor carausius afterwards rebuilt it, and fortified it with seven castles between the two mouths: he built also a round house of polished stones on the banks of the river carun (carron): he likewise erected a triumphal arch, on which he inscribed his own name in memory of his victory." 24. the fourth was the emperor and tyrant, carausius, who, incensed at the murder of severus, passed into britain, and attended by the leaders of the roman people, severely avenged upon the chiefs and rulers of the britons, the cause of severus.* * this passage is corrupt, the meaning is briefly given in the translation. 25. the fifth was constantius the father of constantine the great. he died in britain; his sepulchre, as it appears by the inscription on his tomb, is still seen near the city named cair segont (near carnarvon). upon the pavement of the above-mentioned city he sowed three seeds of gold, silver and brass, that no poor person might ever be found in it. it is also called minmanton.* * v.r. mirmantum, mirmantun, minmanto, minimantone. the segontium of antoninus, situated on a small river named seiont, near carnarvon. 26. maximianus(1) was the sixth emperor that ruled in britain. it was in his time that consuls(2) began, and that the appellation of caesar was discontinued: at this period also, st. martin became celebrated for his virtues and miracles, and held a conversation with him. (1) this is an inaccuracy of nennius; maximus and maximianus were one and the same person; or rather no such person as maximianus ever reigned in britain. (2) geoffrey of monmouth gives the title of consul to several british generals who lived after this time. it is not unlikely that the town, name, and dignity, still lingered in the provinces after the romans were gone, particularly as the cities of britain maintained for a time a species of independence. 27. the seventh emperor was maximus. he withdrew from britain with all his military force, slew gratian, the king of the romans, and obtained the sovereignty of all europe. unwilling to send back his warlike companions to their wives, children, and possessions in britain, he conferred upon them numerous districts from the lake on the summit of mons jovis, to the city called cant guic, and to the western tumulus, that is, to cruc occident.* these are the armoric britons, and they remain there to the present day. in consequence of their absence, britain being overcome by foreign nations, the lawful heirs were cast out, till god interposed with his assistance. we are informed by the tradition of our ancestors that seven emperors went into britain, though the romans affirm there were nine. * this district, in modern language, extended from the great st. bernard in piedmont to cantavic in picardy, and from picardy to the western coast of france. 28. thus, aggreeably to the account given by the britons, the romans governed them four hundred and nine years. after this, the britons despised the authority of the romans, equally refusing to pay them tribute, or to receive their kings; nor durst the romans any longer attempt the government of a country, the natives of which massacred their deputies. 29. we must now return to the tyrant maximus. gratian, with his brother valentinian, reigned seven years. ambrose, bishop of milan, was then eminent for his skill in the dogmata of the catholics. valentinianus and theodosius reigned eight years. at that time a synod was held at constantinople, attended by three hundred and fifty of the fathers, and in which all heresies were condemned. jerome, the presbyter of bethlehem, was then universally celebrated. whilst gratian exercised supreme dominion over the world, maximus, in a sedition of the soldiers, was saluted emperor in britain, and soon after crossed the sea to gaul. at paris, by the treachery of mellobaudes, his master of the horse, gratian was defeated and fleeing to lyons, was taken and put to death; maximus afterwards associated his son victor in the government. martin, distinguished for his great virtues, was at this period bishop of tours. after a considerable space of time, maximus was divested of royal power by the consuls valentinianus and theodosius, and sentenced to be beheaded at the third mile-stone from aquileia: in the same year also his son victor was killed in gaul by arbogastes, five thousand six hundred and ninety years from the creation of the world. 30. thrice were the roman deputies put to death by the britons, and yet these, when harassed by the incursions of the barbarous nations, viz. of the scots and picts, earnestly solicited the aid of the romans. to give effect to their entreaties, ambassadors were sent, who made their entrance with impressions of deep sorrow, having their heads covered with dust, and carrying rich presents, to expiate the murder of the deputies. they were favourably received by the consuls, and swore submission to the roman yoke, with whatever severity it might be imposed. the romans, therefore, came with a powerful army to the assistance of the britons; and having appointed over them a ruler, and settled the government, returned to rome: and this took place alternately during the space of three hundred and forty-eight years. the britons, however, from the oppression of the empire, again massacred the roman deputies, and again petitioned for succour. once more the romans undertook the government of the britons, and assisted them in repelling their neighbours; and, after having exhausted the country of its gold, silver, brass, honey, and costly vestments, and having besides received rich gifts, they returned in great triumph to rome. 31. after the above-said war between the britons and romans, the assassination of their rulers, and the victory of maximus, who slew gratian, and the termination of the roman power in britain, they were in alarm forty years. vortigern then reigned in britain. in his time, the natives had cause of dread, not only from the inroads of the scots and picts, but also from the romans, and their apprehensions of ambrosius.* * these words relate evidently to some cause of dispute between the romans, ambrosius, and vortigern. vortigern is said to have been sovereign of the dimetae, and ambrosius son to the king of the damnonii. the latter was half a roman by descent, and naturally supported the roman interest: the former was entirely a briton, and as naturally seconded by the original britons. in the meantime, three vessels, exiled from germany, arrived in britain. they were commanded by horsa and hengist, brothers, and sons of wihtgils. wihtgils was the son of witta; witta of wecta; wecta of woden; woden of frithowald; frithowald of frithuwulf; frithuwulf of finn; finn of godwulf; godwulf of geat, who, as they say, was the son of a god, not(1) of the omnipotent god and our lord jesus christ (who before the beginning of the world, was with the father and the holy spirit, co-eternal and of the same substance, and who, in compassion to human nature, disdained not to assume the form of a servant), but the offspring of one of their idols, and whom, blinded by some demon, they worshipped according to the custom of the heathen. vortigern received them as friends, and delivered up to them the island which is in their language called thanet, and, by the britons, ruym.(2) gratianus aequantius at that time reigned in rome. the saxons were received by vortigern, four hundred and forty-seven years after the passion of christ, and,(3) according to the tradition of our ancestors, from the period of their first arrival in britain, to the first year of the reign of king edmund, five hundred and forty-two years; and to that in which we now write, which is the fifth of his reign, five hundred and forty-seven years. (1) v.r. not the god of gods, the amen, the lord of hosts, but one of their idols which they worshipped. (2) sometimes called ruoichin, ruith-in, or "river island," separated from the rest of kent and the mainland of britain by the estuary of the wantsum, which, though now a small brook, was formerly navigable for large vessels, and in bede's time was three stadia broad, and fordable only at two places. (3) the rest of this sentence is omitted in some of the mss. 32. at that time st. germanus, distinguished for his numerous virtues, came to preach in britain: by his ministry many were saved; but many likewise died unconverted. of the various miracles which god enabled him to perform, i shall here mention only a few: i shall first advert to that concerning an iniquitous and tyrannical king, named benlli.* the holy man, informed of his wicked conduct, hastened to visit him, for the purpose of remonstrating him. when the man of god, with his attendants, arrived at the gate of the city, they were respectfully received by the keeper of it, who came out and saluted them. him they commissioned to communicate their intention to the king, who returned a harsh answer, declaring, with an oath, that although they remained there a year, they should not enter the city. while waiting for an answer, the evening came on, and they knew not where to go. at length, came one of the king's servants, who bowing himself before the man of god, announced the words of the tyrant, inviting them, at the same time, to his own house, to which they went, and were kindly received. it happened, however, that he had no cattle, except one cow and a calf, the latter of which, urged by generous hospitality to his guests, he killed, dressed and set before them. but holy st. germanus ordered his companions not to break a bone of the calf; and, the next morning, it was found alive uninjured, and standing by its mother. * king of powys. v.r. benli in the district of ial (in derbyshire); in the district of dalrieta; belinus; beluni; and benty. 33. early the same day, they again went to the gate of the city, to solicit audience of the wicked king; and, whilst engaged in fervent prayer they were waiting for admission, a man, covered with sweat, came out, and prostrated himself before them. then st. germanus, addressing him, said "dost thou believe in the holy trinity?" to which the man having replied, "i do believe," he baptized, and kissed him, saying, "go in peace; within this hour thou shalt die: the angels of god are waiting for thee in the air; with them thou shalt ascent to that god in whom thou has believed." he, overjoyed, entered the city, and being met by the prefect, was seized, bound, and conducted before the tyrant, who having passed sentence upon him, he was immediately put to death; for it was a law of this wicked king, that whoever was not at his labour before sun-rising should be beheaded in the citadel. in the meantime, st. germanus, with his attendants, waited the whole day before the gate, without obtaining admission to the tyrant. 34. the man above-mentioned, however, remained with them. "take care," said st. germanus to him, "that none of your friends remain this night within these walls." upon this he hastily entered the city, brought out his nine sons, and with them retired to the house where he had exercised such generous hospitality. here st. germanus ordered them to continue, fasting; and when the gates were shut, "watch," said he, "and whatever shall happen in the citadel, turn not thither your eyes; but pray without ceasing, and invoke the protection of the true god." and, behold, early in the night, fire fell from heaven, and burned the city, together with all those who were with the tyrant, so that not one escaped; and that citadel has never been rebuilt even to this day. 35. the following day, the hospitable man who had been converted by the preaching of st. germanus, was baptized, with his sons, and all the inhabitants of that part of the country; and st. germanus blessed him, saying, "a king shall not be wanting of thy seed for ever." the name of this person is catel drunlue:* "from henceforward thou shalt be a king all the days of thy life." thus was fulfilled the prophecy of the psalmist: "he raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth up the needy out of the dunghill." and agreeably to the prediction of st. germanus, from a servant he became a king: all his sons were kings, and from their offspring the whole country of powys has been governed to this day. * or cadell deyrnllug, prince of the vale royal and the upper part of powys. 36. after the saxons had continued some time in the island of thanet, vortigern promised to supply them with clothing and provision, on condition they would engage to fight against the enemies of his country. but the barbarians having greatly increased in number, the britons became incapable of fulfilling their engagement; and when the saxons, according to the promise they had received, claimed a supply of provisions and clothing, the britons replied, "your number is increased; your assistance is now unneccessary; you may, therefore, return home, for we can no longer support you;" and hereupon they began to devise means of breaking the peace between them. 37. but hengist, in whom united craft and penetration, perceiving he had to act with an ignorant king, and a fluctuating people, incapable of opposing much resistance, replied to vortigern, "we are, indeed, few in number; but, if you will give us leave, we will send to our country for an additional number of forces, with whom we will fight for you and your subjects." vortigern assenting to this proposal, messengers were despatched to scythia, where selecting a number of warlike troops, they returned with sixteen vessels, bringing with them the beautiful daughter of hengist. and now the saxon chief prepared an entertainment, to which he invited the king, his officers, and ceretic, his interpreter, having previously enjoined his daughter to serve them so profusely with wine and ale, that they might soon become intoxicated. this plan succeeded; and vortigern, at the instigation of the devil, and enamoured with the beauty of the damsel, demanded her, through the medium of his interpreter, of the father, promising to give for her whatever he should ask. then hengist, who had already consulted with the elders who attended him of the oghgul(1) race, demanded for his daughter the province, called in english, centland, in british, ceint, (kent.) this cession was made without the knowledge of the king, guoyrancgonus,(2) who then reigned in kent, and who experienced no inconsiderable share of grief, from seeing his kingdom thus clandestinely, fraudulently, and imprudently resigned to foreigners. thus the maid was delivered up to the king, who slept with her, and loved her exceedingly. (1) v.r. who had come with him from the island of oghgul, oehgul (or tingle), angul. according to gunn, a small island in the duchy of sleswick in denmark, now called angel, of which flensburg is the metropolis. hence the origin of the angles. (2) v.r. gnoiram cono, goiranegono, guiracgono. malmesbury, gorongi; camden, guorong, supposed to mean governor, or viceroy. 38. hengist, after this, said to vortigern, "i will be to you both a father and an adviser; despise not my counsels, and you shall have no reason to fear being conquered by any man or any nation whatever; for the people of my country are strong, warlike, and robust: if you approve, i will send for my son and his brother, both valiant men, who at my invitation will fight against the scots, and you can give them the countries in the north, near the wall called gual."(1) the incautious sovereign having assented to this, octa and ebusa arrived with forty ships. in these they sailed round the country of the picts, laid waste the orkneys, and took possession of many regions, even to the pictish confines.(2) (1) antoninus's wall. (2) some mss. add, "beyond the frenesic, fresicum (or fresic) sea," i.e. which is between us and the scotch. the sea between scotland and ireland. camden translates it "beyond the frith;" langhorne says, "solway frith." but hengist continued, by degrees, sending for ships from his own country, so that some islands whence they came were left without inhabitants; and whilst his people were increasing in power and number, they came to the above-named province of kent. 39. in the meantime, vortigern, as if desirous of adding to the evils he had already occasioned, married his own daughter, by whom he had a son. when this was made known to st. germanus, he came, with all the british clergy, to reprove him: and whilst a numerous assembly of the ecclesiastics and laity were in consultation, the weak king ordered his daughter to appear before them, and in the presence of all to present her son to st. germanus, and declare that he was the father of the child. the immodest* woman obeyed; and st. germanus, taking the child, said, "i will be a father to you, my son; nor will i dismiss you till a razor, scissors, and comb, are given to me, and it is allowed you to give them to your carnal father." the child obeyed st. germanus, and going to his father vortigern, said to him, "thou art my father; shave and cut the hair of my head." the king blushed, and was silent; and, without replying to the child, arose in great anger, and fled from the presence of st. germanus, execrated and condemned by the whole synod. (1) v.r. "immodest" is omitted in some mss. 40. but soon after, calling together his twelve wise men, to consult what was to be done, they said to him, "retire to the remote boundaries of your kingdom; there build and fortify a city(1) to defend yourself, for the people you have received are treacherous; they are seeking to subdue you by stratagem, and, even during your life, to seize upon all the countries subject to your power, how much more will they attempt, after your death!" the king, pleased with this advice, departed with his wise men, and travelled through many parts of his territories, in search of a place convenient for the purpose of building a citadel. having, to no purpose, travelled far and wide, they came at length to a province called guenet;(2) and having surveyed the mountains of heremus,(3) they discovered, on the summit of one of them, a situation, adapted to the construction of a citadel. upon this, the wise men said to the king, "build here a city: for, in this place, it will ever be secure against the barbarians." then the king sent for artificers, carpenters, stone-masons, and collected all the materials requisite to building; but the whole of these disappeared in one night, so that nothing remained of what had been provided for the constructing of the citadel. materials were, therefore, from all parts, procured a second and third time, and again vanished as before, leaving and rendering every effort ineffectual. vortigern inquired of his wise men the cause of this opposition to his undertaking, and of so much useless expense of labour? they replied, "you must find a child born without a father, put him to death, and sprinkle with his blood the ground on which the citadel is to be built, or you will never accomplish your purpose." (1) v.r. you shall find a fortified city in which you may defend yourself. (2) v.r. guined, guoienet, guenez, north wales. (3) v.r. heremi, heriri, or eryri, signifying eagle rocks, the mountains of snowdon, in carnarvonshire. the spot alluded to is supposed to be dinas emrys, or the fortress of ambrosius. 41. in consequence of this reply, the king sent messengers throughout britain, in search of a child born without a father. after having inquired in all the provinces, they came to the field of aelecti,(1) in the district of glevesing,(2) where a party of boys were playing at ball. and two of them quarrelling, one said to the other, "o boy without a father, no good will ever happen to you." upon this, the messengers diligently inquired of the mother and the other boys, whether he had had a father? which his mother denied, saying, "in what manner he was conceived i know not, for i have never had intercourse with any man;" and then she solemnly affirmed that he had no mortal father. the boy was, therefore, led away, and conducted before vortigern the king. (1) v.r. elleti, electi, gleti. supposed to be bassalig in monmouthshire. (2) the district between the usk and rumney, in monmouthshire. 42. a meeting took place the next day for the purpose of putting him to death. then the boy said to the king, "why have your servants brought me hither?" "that you may be put to death," replied the king, "and that the ground on which my citadel is to stand, may be sprinkled with your blood, without which i shall be unable to build it." "who," said the boy, "instructed you to do this?" "my wise men," answered the king. "order them hither," returned the boy; this being complied with, he thus questioned them: "by what means was it revealed to you that this citadel could not be built, unless the spot were previously sprinkled with my blood? speak without disguise, and declare who discovered me to you;" then turning to the king, "i will soon," said he, "unfold to you every thing; but i desire to question your wise men, and wish them to disclose to you what is hidden under this pavement:" they acknowledging their ignorance, "there is," said he, "a pool; come and dig:" they did so, and found the pool. "now," continued he, "tell me what is in it;" but they were ashamed, and made no reply. "i," said the boy, "can discover it to you: there are two vases in the pool;" they examined and found it so: continuing his questions, "what is in the vases?" they were silent: "there is a tent in them," said the boy; "separate them, and you shall find it so;" this being done by the king's command, there was found in them a folded tent. the boy, going on with his questions, asked the wise men what was in it? but they not knowing what to reply, "there are," said he, "two serpents, one white and the other red; unfold the tent;" they obeyed, and two sleeping serpents were discovered; "consider attentively," said the boy, "what they are doing." the serpents began to struggle with each other; and the white one, raising himself up, threw down the other into the middle of the tent, and sometimes drove him to the edge of it; and this was repeated thrice. at length the red one, apparently the weaker of the two, recovering his strength, expelled the white one from the tent; and the latter being pursued through the pool by the red one, disappeared. then the boy, asking the wise men what was signified by this wonderful omen, and they expressing their ignorance, he said to the king, "i will now unfold to you the meaning of this mystery. the pool is the emblem of this world, and the tent that of your kingdom: the two serpents are two dragons; the red serpent is your dragon, but the white serpent is the dragon of the people who occupy several provinces and districts of britain, even almost from sea to sea: at length, however, our people shall rise and drive away the saxon race from beyond the sea, whence they originally came; but do you depart from this place, where you are not permitted to erect a citadel; i, to whom fate has allotted this mansion, shall remain here; whilst to you it is incumbent to seek other provinces, where you may build a fortress." "what is your name?" asked the king; "i am called ambrose (in british embresguletic)," returned the boy; and in answer to the king's question, "what is your origin?" he replied, "a roman consul was my father." then the king assigned him that city, with all the western provinces of britain; and departing with his wise men to the sinistral district, he arrived in the region named gueneri, where he built a city which, according to his name, was called cair guorthegirn.* * an ancient scholiast adds, "he then built guasmoric, near lugubalia (carlisle), a city which in english is called palmecaster." some difference of opinion exists among antiquaries respecting the site of vortigern's castle or city. usher places it at gwent, monmouthshire, which name, he ways, was taken from caer-went, near chepstow. this appears to agree with geoffrey's account, {illegible} see usher's britan. eccles. cap. v. p.23. according to others, supposed to be the city from the ruins of which arose the castle of gurthrenion, in radnorshire, camden's britannia, p.479. whitaker, however, says that cair guorthegirn was the maridunum of the romans, and the present caermarthen. (hist. of manchester, book ii. c. 1.) see also nennius, sec.47. 43. at length vortimer, the son of vortigern, valiantly fought against hengist, horsa, and his people; drove them to the isle of thanet, and thrice enclosed them within it, and beset them on the western side. the saxons now despatched deputies to germany to solicit large reinforcements, and an additional number of ships: having obtained these, they fought against the kings and princes of britain, and sometimes extended their boundaries by victory, and sometimes were conquered and driven back. 44. four times did vortimer valorously encounter the enemy;(1) the first has been mentioned, the second was upon the river darent, the third at the ford, in their language called epsford, though in ours set thirgabail,(2) there horsa fell, and catigern, the son of vortigern; the fourth battle he fought was near the stone(3) on the shore of the gallic sea, where the saxons being defeated, fled to their ships. (1) some mss. here add, "this vortimer, the son of vortigern, in a synod held at guartherniaun, after the wicked king, on account of the incest committed with his daughter, fled from the face of germanus and the british clergy, would not consent to his father's wickedness; but returning to st. germanus, and falling down at his feet, he sued for pardon; and in atonement for the calumny brought upon germanus by his father and sister, gave him the land, in which the forementioned bishop had endured such abuse, to be his for ever. whence, in memory of st. germanus, it received the name guarenniaun (guartherniaun, gurthrenion, gwarth ennian) which signifies, a calumny justly retorted, since, when he thought to reproach the bishop, he covered himself with reproach." (2) according to langhorne, epsford was afterwards called, in the british tongue, saessenaeg habail, or 'the slaughter of the saxons.' (3) v.r. "the stone of titulus", thought to be stone in kent, or larger-stone in suffolk. after a short interval vortimer died; before his decease, anxious for the future prosperity of his country, he charged his friends to inter his body at the entrance of the saxon port, viz. upon the rock where the saxons first landed; "for though," said he, "they may inhabit other parts of britain, yet if you follow my commands, they will never remain in this island." they imprudently disobeyed this last injunction, and neglected to bury him where he had appointed.* * rapin says he was buried at lincoln; geoffrey, at london. 45. after this the barbarians became firmly incorporated, and were assisted by foreign pagans; for vortigern was their friend, on account of the daughter* of hengist, whom he so much loved, that no one durst fight against him-in the meantime they soothed the imprudent king, and whilst practising every appearance of fondness, were plotting with his enemies. and let him that reads understand, that the saxons were victorious, and ruled britain, not from their superior prowess, but on account of the great sins of the britons: god so permitting it. for what wise man will resist the wholesome counsel of god? the almighty is the king of kings, and the lord of lords, ruling and judging every one, according to his own pleasure. after the death of vortimer, hengist being strengthened by new accessions, collected his ships, and calling his leaders together, consulted by what stratagem they might overcome vortigern and his army; with insidious intention they sent messengers to the king, with offers of peace and perpetual friendship; unsuspicious of treachery, the monarch, after advising with his elders, accepted the proposals. * v.r. of his wife, and no one was able manfully to drive them off because they had occupied britain not from their own valour, but by god's permission. 46. hengist, under pretence of ratifying the treaty, prepared an entertainment, to which he invited the king, the nobles, and military officers, in number about three hundred; speciously concealing his wicked intention, he ordered three hundred saxons to conceal each a knife under his feet, and to mix with the britons; "and when," said he, "they are sufficiently inebriated, &c. cry out, 'nimed eure saxes,' then let each draw his knife, and kill his man; but spare the king, on account of his marriage with my daughter, for it is better that he should be ransomed than killed."* * the vv. rr. of this section are too numerous to be inserted. the king with his company, appeared at the feast; and mixing with the saxons, who, whilst they spoke peace with their tongues, cherished treachery in their hearts, each man was placed next to his enemy. after they had eaten and drunk, and were much intoxicated, hengist suddenly vociferated, "nimed eure saxes!" and instantly his adherents drew their knives, and rushing upon the britons, each slew him that sat next to him, and there was slain three hundred of the nobles of vortigern. the king being a captive, purchased his redemption, by delivering up the three provinces of east, south, and middle sex, besides other districts at the option of his betrayers. 47. st. germanus admonished vortigern to turn to the true god, and abstain from all unlawful intercourse with his daughter; but the unhappy wretch fled for refuge to the province guorthegirnaim,* so called from his own name, where he concealed himself with his wives: but st. germanus followed him with all the british clergy, and upon a rock prayed for his sins during forty days and forty nights. * a district of radnorshire, forming the present hundred of rhaiadr. the blessed man was unanimously chosen commander against the saxons. and then, not by the clang of trumpets, but by praying, singing hallelujah, and by the cries of the army to god, the enemies were routed, and driven even to the sea.* *v.r. this paragraph is omitted in the mss. again vortigern ignominiously flew from st. germanus to the kingdom of the dimetae, where, on the river towy,* he built a castle, which he named cair guothergirn. the saint, as usual, followed him there, and with his clergy fasted and prayed to the lord three days, and as many nights. on the third night, at the third hour, fire fell suddenly from heaven, and totally burned the castle. vortigern, the daughter of hengist, his other wives, and all the inhabitants, both men and women, miserably perished: such was the end of this unhappy king, as we find written in the life of st. germanus. *the tobias of ptolemy 47. others assure us, that being hated by all the people of britain, for having received the saxons, and being publicly charged by st. germanus and the clergy in the sight of god, he betook himself to flight; and, that deserted and a wanderer, he sought a place of refuge, till broken hearted, he made an ignominious end. some accounts state, that the earth opened and swallowed him up, on the night his castle was burned; as no remains were discovered the following morning, either of him, or of those who were burned with him. he had three sons: the eldest was vortimer, who, as we have seen, fought four times against the saxons, and put them to flight; the second categirn, who was slain in the same battle with horsa; the third was pascent, who reigned in the two provinces builth and guorthegirnaim,(1) after the death of his father. these were granted him by ambrosius, who was the great king among the kings of britain. the fourth was faustus, born of an incestuous marriage with his daughter, who was brought up and educated by st. germanus. he built a large monastery on the banks of the river renis, called after his name, and which remains to the present period.(2) (1) in the northern part of the present counties of radnor and brecknock. (2) v.r. the mss. add, 'and he had one daughter, who was the mother of st. faustus.' 49. this is the genealogy of vortigern, which goes back to fernvail,(1) who reigned in the kingdom of guorthegirnaim,(2) and was the son of teudor; teudor was the son of pascent; pascent of guoidcant; guoidcant of moriud; moriud of eltat; eltat of eldoc; eldoc of paul; paul of meuprit; meuprit of braciat; braciat of pascent; pascent of guorthegirn, guorthegirn of guortheneu; guortheneu of guitaul; guitaul of guitolion; guitolion of gloui. bonus, paul, mauron, guotelin, were four brothers, who built gloiuda, a great city upon the banks of the river severn, and in birtish is called cair gloui, in saxon, gloucester. enough has been said of vortigern. (1) fernvail, or farinmail, appears to have been king of gwent or monmouth. (2) v.r. 'two provinces, builth and guorthegirnaim.' 50. st. germanus, after his death, returned into his own country. *at that time, the saxons greatly increased in britain, both in strength and numbers. and octa, after the death of his father hengist, came from the sinistral part of the island to the kingdom of kent, and from him have proceeded all the kings of that province, to the present period. * v.r. all this to the word 'amen,' in other mss. is placed after the legend of st. patrick. then it was, that the magnanimous arthur, with all the kings and military force of britain, fought against the saxons. and though there were many more noble than himself, yet he was twelve times chosen their commander, and was as often conqueror. the first battle in which he was engaged, was at the mouth of the river gleni.(1) the second, third, fourth, and fifth, were on another river, by the britons called duglas,(2) in the region linuis. the sixth, on the river bassas.(3) the seventh in the wood celidon, which the britons call cat coit celidon.(4) the eighth was near gurnion castle,(5) where arthur bore the image of the holy virgin,(6) mother of god, upon his shoulders, and through the power of our lord jesus christ, and the holy mary, put the saxons to flight, and pursued them the whole day with great slaughter.(7) the ninth was at the city of legion,(8) which is called cair lion. the tenth was on the banks of the river trat treuroit.(9) the eleventh was on the mountain breguoin, which we call cat bregion.(10) the twelfth was a most severe contest, when arthur penetrated to the hill of badon.(11) in this engagement, nine hundred and forty fell by his hand alone, no one but the lord affording him assistance. in all these engagements the britons were successful. for no strength can avail against the will of the almighty. (1) supposed by some to be the glem, in lincolnshire; but most probably the glen, in the northern part of northumberland. (2) or dubglas. the little river dunglas, which formed the southern boundary of lothian. whitaker says, the river duglas, in lancashire, near wigan. (3) not a river, but an isolated rock in the frith of forth, near the town of north berwick, called "the bass." some think it is the river lusas, in hampshire. (4) the caledonian forest; or the forest of englewood, extending from penrith to carlisle. (5) variously supposed to be in cornwall, or binchester in durham, but most probably the roman station of garionenum, near yarmouth, in norfolk. (6) v.r. the image of the cross of christ, and of the perpetual virgin st. mary. (7) v.r. for arthur proceeded to jerusalem, and there made a cross to the size of the saviour's cross, and there it was consecrated, and for three successive days he fasted, watched, and prayed, before the lord's cross, that the lord would give him the victory, by this sign, over the heathen; which also took place, and he took with him the image of st. mary, the fragments of which are still preserved in great veneration at wedale, in english wodale, in latin vallis doloris. wodale is a village in the province of lodonesia, but now of the jurisdiction of the bishop of st. andrew's, of scotland, six miles on the west of that heretofore noble and eminent monastery of meilros. (8) exeter. (9) or ribroit, the brue, in somersetshire; or the ribble, in lancashire. (10) or agned cathregonion, cadbury, in somersetshire; or edinburgh (11) bath. the more the saxons were vanquished, the more they sought for new supplies of saxons from germany; so that kings, commanders, and military bands were invited over from almost every province. and this practice they continued till the reign of ida, who was the son of eoppa, he, of the saxon race, was the first king in bernicia, and in cair ebrauc (york). when gratian aequantius was consul at rome, because then the whole world was governed by the roman consuls, the saxons were received by vortigern in the year of our lord four hundred and forty-seven, and to the year in which we now write, five hundred and forty-seven. and whosoever shall read herein may receive instruction, the lord jesus christ affording assistance, who, co-eternal with the father and the holy ghost, lives and reigns for ever and ever. amen. in those days saint patrick was captive among the scots. his master's name was milcho, to whom he was a swineherd for seven years. when he had attained the age of seventeen he gave him his liberty. by the divine impulse, he applied himself to reading of the scriptures, and afterwards went to rome; where, replenished with the holy spirit, he continued a great while, studying the sacred mysteries of those writings. during his continuance there, palladius, the first bishop, was sent by pope celestine to convert the scots (the irish). but tempests and signs from god prevented his landing, for no one can arrive in any country, except it be allowed from above; altering therefore his course from ireland, he came to britain and died in the land of the picts.* * at fordun, in the district of mearns, in scotland-usher. 51. the death of palladius being known, the roman patricians, theodosius and valentinian, then reigning, pope celestine sent patrick to convert the scots to the faith of the holy trinity; victor, the angel of god, accompanying, admonishing, and assisting him, and also the bishop germanus. germanus then sent the ancient segerus with him as a venerable and praiseworthy bishop, to king amatheus,(1) who lived near, and who had prescience of what was to happen; he was consecrated bishop in the reign of that king by the holy pontiff,(2) assuming the name of patrick, having hitherto been known by that of maun; auxilius, isserninus, and other brothers were ordained with him to inferior degrees. (1) v.r. germanus "sent the elder segerus with him to a wonderful man, the holy bishop amathearex." another ms. "sent the elder segerus, a bishop, with him to amatheorex." (2) v.r. "received the episcopal degree from the holy bishop amatheorex." another ms. "received the episcopal degree from matheorex and the holy bishop." 52. having distributed benedictions, and perfected all in the name of the holy trinity, he embarked on the sea which is between the gauls and the britons; and after a quick passage arrived in britain, where he preached for some time. every necessary preparation being made, and the angel giving him warning, he came to the irish sea. and having filled the ship with foreign gifts and spiritual treasures, by the permission of god he arrived in ireland, where he baptized and preached. 53. from the beginning of the world, to the fifth year of king logiore, when the irish were baptized, and faith in the unity of the individual trinity was published to them, are five thousand three hundred and thirty years. 54. saint patrick taught the gospel in foreign nations for the space of forty years. endued with apostolical powers, he gave sight to the blind, cleansed the lepers, gave hearing to the deaf, cast out devils, raised nine from the dead, redeemed many captives of both sexes at his own charge, and set them free in the name of the holy trinity. he taught the servants of god, and he wrote three hundred and sixty-five canonical and other books relating to the catholic faith. he founded as many churches, and consecrated the same number of bishops, strengthening them with the holy ghost. he ordained three thousand presbyters; and converted and baptized twelve thousand persons in the province of connaught. and, in one day baptized seven kings, who were the seven sons of amalgaid.(1) he continued fasting forty days and nights, on the summit of the mountain eli, that is cruachan-aichle;(2) and preferred three petitions to god for the irish, that had embraced the faith. the scots say, the first was, that he would receive every repenting sinner, even at the latest extremity of life; the second, that they should never be exterminated by barbarians; and the third, that as ireland(3) will be overflowed with water, seven years before the coming of our lord to judge the quick and the dead, the crimes of the people might be washed away through his intercession, and their souls purified at the last day. he gave the people his benediction from the upper part of the mountain, and going up higher, that he might pray for them; and that if it pleased god, he might see the effects of his labours, there appeared to him an innumerable flock of birds of many coulours, signifying the number of holy persons of both sexes of the irish nation, who should come to him as their apostle at the day of judgment, to be presented before the tribunal of christ. after a life spent in the active exertion of good to mankind, st. patrick, in a healthy old age, passed from this world to the lord, and changing this life for a better, with the saints and elect of god he rejoices for evermore. (1) king of connaught. (2) a mountain in the west of connaught, county of mayo, now called croagh-patrick. (3) v.r. that no irishman may be alive on the day of judgment, because they will be destroyed seven years before in honour of st. patrick. 55. saint patrick resembled moses in four particulars. the angel spoke to him in the burning bush. he fasted forty days and forty nights upon the mountain. he attained the period of one hundred and twenty years. no one knows his sepulchre, nor where he was buried; sixteen(1) years he was in captivity. in his twenty-fifth year, he was consecrated bishop by saint matheus,(2) and he was eighty-five years the apostle of the irish. it might be profitable to treat more at large of the life of this saint, but it is now time to conclude this epitome of his labours.(3) (1) v.r. fifteen. (2) v.r. by the holy bishop amatheus. (3) here ends the vatican ms. collated by mr. gunn. (here endeth the life of the holy bishop, saint patrick.) (after this, the mss. give as 56, the legend of king arthur, which in this edition occurs in 50.) the genealogy of the kings of bernicia.* * these titles are not part of the original work, but added in the mss. by a later hand. 57. woden begat beldeg, who begat beornec, who begat gethbrond, who begat aluson, who begat ingwi, who begat edibrith, who begat esa, who begat eoppa, who begat ida. but ida had twelve sons, adda, belric, theodric, ethelric, theodhere, osmer, and one queen, bearnoch, ealric. ethelric begat ethelfrid: the same is aedlfred flesaur. for he also had seven sons, eanfrid, oswald, oswin, oswy, oswudu, oslac, offa. oswy begat alfrid, elfwin, and egfrid. egfrid is he who made war against his cousin brudei, king of the picts, and he fell therein with all the strength of his army, and the picts with their king gained the victory; and the saxons never again reduced the picts so as to exact tribute from them. since the time of this war it is called gueithlin garan. but oswy had two wives, riemmelth, the daughter of royth, son of rum; and eanfled, the daughter of edwin, son of alla. the genealogy of the kings of kent. 58. hengist begat octa, who begat ossa, who begat eormenric, who begat ethelbert, who begat eadbald, who begat ercombert, who begat egbert. the origin of the kings of east-anglia. 59. woden begat casser, who begat titinon, who begat trigil, who begat rodmunt, who begat rippa, who begat guillem guercha,* who was the first king of the east angles. guercha begat uffa, who begat tytillus, who begat eni, who begat edric, who begat aldwulf, who begat elric. * guercha is a distortion of the name of uffa, or wuffa, arising in the first instance from the pronunciation of the british writer; and in the next place from the error of the transcriber--palgrave. the genealogy of the mercians. 60. woden begat guedolgeat, who begat gueagon, who begat guithleg, who begat guerdmund, who begat ossa, who begat ongen, who begat eamer, who begat pubba.* this pubba had twelve sons, of whom two are better known to me than the others, that is penda and eawa. eadlit is the son of pantha, penda, son of pubba, ealbald, son of alguing, son of eawa, son of penda, son of pubba. egfert, son of offa, son of thingferth, son of enwulf, son of ossulf, son of eawa, son of pubba. * or wibba. the kings of the deiri. 61. woden begat beldeg, brond begat siggar, who begat sibald, who begat zegulf, who begat soemil, who first separated(1) deur from berneich (deira from bernicia.) soemil begat sguerthing, who begat giulglis, who begat ulfrea, who begat iffi, who begat ulli, edwin, osfrid and eanfrid. there were two sons of edwin, who fell with him in battle at meicen,(2) and the kingdom was never renewed in his family, because not one of his race escaped from that war; but all were slain with him by the army of catguollaunus,(3) king of the guendota. oswy begat egfrid, the same is ailguin, who begat oslach, sho begat alhun, who begat adlsing, who begat echun, who begat oslaph. ida begat eadric, who begat ecgulf, who begat leodwald, who begat eata, the same is glinmaur, who begat eadbert and egbert, who was the first bishop of their nation. (1) v.r. conquered. (2) hatfield, in the west riding of yorkshire. see bede's eccles. hist. (3) cadwalla, king of the western britons. ida, the son of eoppa, possessed countries on the left-hand side of britain, i.e. of the humbrian sea, and reigned twelve years, and united* dynguayth guarth-berneich. * v.r. united the castle, i.e. dinguerin and gurdbernech, which two countries were in one country, i.e. deurabernech; anglice diera and bernicia. another ms. built dinguayrh guarth berneich. 62. then dutgirn at that time fought bravely against the nation of the angles. at that time, talhaiarn cataguen* was famed for poetry, and neirin, and taliesin and bluchbard, and cian, who is called guenith guaut, were all famous at the same time in british poetry. * talhaiarn was a descendant of coel godebog, and chaplain to ambrosius. the great king, mailcun,* reigned among the britons, i.e. in the district of guenedota, because his great-great-grandfather, cunedda, with his twelve sons, had come before from the left-hand part, i.e. from the country which is called manau gustodin, one hundred and forty-six years before mailcun reigned, and expelled the scots with much slaughter from those countries, and they never returned again to inhabit them. * better known as maelgwn. 63. adda, son of ida, reigned eight years; ethelric, son of adda, reigned four years. theodoric, son of ida, reigned seven years. freothwulf reigned six years. in whose time the kingdom of kent, by the mission of gregory, received baptism. hussa reigned seven years. against him fought four kings, urien, and ryderthen, and guallauc, and morcant. theodoric fought bravely, together with his sons, against that urien. but at that time sometimes the enemy and sometimes our countrymen were defeated, and he shut them up three days and three nights in the island of metcaut; and whilst he was on an expedition he was murdered, at the instance of morcant, out of envy, because he possessed so much superiority over all the kings in military science. eadfered flesaurs reigned twelve years in bernicia, and twelve others in deira, and gave to his wife bebba, the town of dynguaroy, which from her is called bebbanburg.* * bambrough. see bede, iii. 6, and sax. chron. a.d. 547. edwin, son of alla, reigned seventeen years, seized on elmete, and expelled cerdic, its king. eanfled, his daughter, received baptism, on the twelfth day after pentecost, with all her followers, both men and women. the following easter edwin himself received baptism, and twelve thousand of his subjects with him. if any one wishes to know who baptized them, it was rum map urbgen:* he was engaged forty days in baptizing all classes of the saxons, and by his preaching many believed on christ. * see bede's eccles. hist. from the share which paulinus had in the conversion of the northumbrian king, it has been inferred that he actually baptized him; but nennius expressly states, that the holy sacrament was administered by rhun, the son of urien. the welsh name of paulinus is pawl hen, or polin eagob. 64. oswald son of ethelfrid, reigned nine years; the same is oswald llauiguin;(1) he slew catgublaun (cadwalla),(2) king of guenedot,(3) in the battle of catscaul,(4) with much loss to his own army. oswy, son of ethelfrid, reigned twenty-eight years and six months. during his reign, there was a dreadful mortality among his subjects, when catgualart (cadwallader) was king among the britons, succeeding his father, and he himself died amongst the rest.(5) he slew penda in the field of gai, and now took place the slaughter of gai campi, and the kings of the britons, who went out with penda on the expedition as far as the city of judeu, were slain. (1) llauiguin, means the "fair," or the "bounteous hand." (2) this name has been variously written; bede spells it caedualla (cadwalla); nennius, catgublaun; the saxon chronicle, ceadwalla; and the welsh writers, cadwallon and kalwallawn: and though the identity of the person may be clearly proved, it is necessary to observe these particulars to distinguish him from cadwaladr, and from another caedualla or caedwalla, a king of the west saxons; all of whom, as they lived within a short time of each other, have been frequently confounded together.--rees's welsh saints. (3) gwynedd, north wales. (4) bede says at denis's brook. (5) the british chronicles assert that cadwallader died at rome, whilst nennius would lead us to conclude that he perished in the pestilence at home. 65. then oswy restored all the wealth, which was with him in the city, to penda; who distributed it among the kings of the britons, that is atbert judeu. but catgabail alone, king of guenedot, rising up in the night, excaped, together with his army, wherefore he was called catgabail catguommed. egfrid, son of oswy, reigned nine years. in his time the holy bishop cuthbert died in the island of medcaut.* it was he who made war against the picts, and was by them slain. * the isle of farne. penda, son of pybba, reigned ten years; he first separated the kingdom of mercia from that of the north-men, and slew by treachery anna, king of the east anglians, and st. oswald, king of the north men. he fought the battle of cocboy, in which fell eawa, son of pybba, his brother, king of the mercians, and oswald, king of the north-men, and he gained the victory by diabolical agency. he was not baptized, and never believed in god. 66. from the beginning of the world to constantinus and rufus, are found to be five thousand six hundred and fifty-eight years. also from the two consuls, rufus and rubelius, to the consul stilicho, are three hundred and seventy-three years. also from stilicho to valentinian, son of placida, and the reign of vortigern, are twenty-eight years. and from the reign of vortigern to the quarrel between guitolinus and ambrosius, are twelve years, which is guoloppum, that is catgwaloph.* vortigern reigned in britain when theodosius and valentinian were consuls, and in the fourth year of his reign the saxons came to britain, in the consulship of felix and taurus, in the four hundredth year from the incarnation of our lord jesus christ. * in carmarthenshire. perhaps the town now called kidwelly. from the year in which the saxons came into britain, and were received by vortigern, to the time of decius and valerian, are sixty-nine years. a connecticut yankee in king arthur's court by mark twain (samuel l. clemens) part 5. chapter xxiii restoration of the fountain saturday noon i went to the well and looked on a while. merlin was still burning smoke-powders, and pawing the air, and muttering gibberish as hard as ever, but looking pretty down-hearted, for of course he had not started even a perspiration in that well yet. finally i said: "how does the thing promise by this time, partner?" "behold, i am even now busied with trial of the powerfulest enchantment known to the princes of the occult arts in the lands of the east; an it fail me, naught can avail. peace, until i finish." he raised a smoke this time that darkened all the region, and must have made matters uncomfortable for the hermits, for the wind was their way, and it rolled down over their dens in a dense and billowy fog. he poured out volumes of speech to match, and contorted his body and sawed the air with his hands in a most extraordinary way. at the end of twenty minutes he dropped down panting, and about exhausted. now arrived the abbot and several hundred monks and nuns, and behind them a multitude of pilgrims and a couple of acres of foundlings, all drawn by the prodigious smoke, and all in a grand state of excitement. the abbot inquired anxiously for results. merlin said: "if any labor of mortal might break the spell that binds these waters, this which i have but just essayed had done it. it has failed; whereby i do now know that that which i had feared is a truth established; the sign of this failure is, that the most potent spirit known to the magicians of the east, and whose name none may utter and live, has laid his spell upon this well. the mortal does not breathe, nor ever will, who can penetrate the secret of that spell, and without that secret none can break it. the water will flow no more forever, good father. i have done what man could. suffer me to go." of course this threw the abbot into a good deal of a consternation. he turned to me with the signs of it in his face, and said: "ye have heard him. is it true?" "part of it is." "not all, then, not all! what part is true?" "that that spirit with the russian name has put his spell upon the well." "god's wounds, then are we ruined!" "possibly." "but not certainly? ye mean, not certainly?" "that is it." "wherefore, ye also mean that when he saith none can break the spell--" "yes, when he says that, he says what isn't necessarily true. there are conditions under which an effort to break it may have some chance--that is, some small, some trifling chance--of success." "the conditions--" "oh, they are nothing difficult. only these: i want the well and the surroundings for the space of half a mile, entirely to myself from sunset to-day until i remove the ban--and nobody allowed to cross the ground but by my authority." "are these all?" "yes." "and you have no fear to try?" "oh, none. one may fail, of course; and one may also succeed. one can try, and i am ready to chance it. i have my conditions?" "these and all others ye may name. i will issue commandment to that effect." "wait," said merlin, with an evil smile. "ye wit that he that would break this spell must know that spirit's name?" "yes, i know his name." "and wit you also that to know it skills not of itself, but ye must likewise pronounce it? ha-ha! knew ye that?" "yes, i knew that, too." "you had that knowledge! art a fool? are ye minded to utter that name and die?" "utter it? why certainly. i would utter it if it was welsh." "ye are even a dead man, then; and i go to tell arthur." "that's all right. take your gripsack and get along. the thing for _you_ to do is to go home and work the weather, john w. merlin." it was a home shot, and it made him wince; for he was the worst weather-failure in the kingdom. whenever he ordered up the danger-signals along the coast there was a week's dead calm, sure, and every time he prophesied fair weather it rained brickbats. but i kept him in the weather bureau right along, to undermine his reputation. however, that shot raised his bile, and instead of starting home to report my death, he said he would remain and enjoy it. my two experts arrived in the evening, and pretty well fagged, for they had traveled double tides. they had pack-mules along, and had brought everything i needed--tools, pump, lead pipe, greek fire, sheaves of big rockets, roman candles, colored fire sprays, electric apparatus, and a lot of sundries--everything necessary for the stateliest kind of a miracle. they got their supper and a nap, and about midnight we sallied out through a solitude so wholly vacant and complete that it quite overpassed the required conditions. we took possession of the well and its surroundings. my boys were experts in all sorts of things, from the stoning up of a well to the constructing of a mathematical instrument. an hour before sunrise we had that leak mended in ship-shape fashion, and the water began to rise. then we stowed our fireworks in the chapel, locked up the place, and went home to bed. before the noon mass was over, we were at the well again; for there was a deal to do yet, and i was determined to spring the miracle before midnight, for business reasons: for whereas a miracle worked for the church on a week-day is worth a good deal, it is worth six times as much if you get it in on a sunday. in nine hours the water had risen to its customary level--that is to say, it was within twenty-three feet of the top. we put in a little iron pump, one of the first turned out by my works near the capital; we bored into a stone reservoir which stood against the outer wall of the well-chamber and inserted a section of lead pipe that was long enough to reach to the door of the chapel and project beyond the threshold, where the gushing water would be visible to the two hundred and fifty acres of people i was intending should be present on the flat plain in front of this little holy hillock at the proper time. we knocked the head out of an empty hogshead and hoisted this hogshead to the flat roof of the chapel, where we clamped it down fast, poured in gunpowder till it lay loosely an inch deep on the bottom, then we stood up rockets in the hogshead as thick as they could loosely stand, all the different breeds of rockets there are; and they made a portly and imposing sheaf, i can tell you. we grounded the wire of a pocket electrical battery in that powder, we placed a whole magazine of greek fire on each corner of the roof--blue on one corner, green on another, red on another, and purple on the last--and grounded a wire in each. about two hundred yards off, in the flat, we built a pen of scantlings, about four feet high, and laid planks on it, and so made a platform. we covered it with swell tapestries borrowed for the occasion, and topped it off with the abbot's own throne. when you are going to do a miracle for an ignorant race, you want to get in every detail that will count; you want to make all the properties impressive to the public eye; you want to make matters comfortable for your head guest; then you can turn yourself loose and play your effects for all they are worth. i know the value of these things, for i know human nature. you can't throw too much style into a miracle. it costs trouble, and work, and sometimes money; but it pays in the end. well, we brought the wires to the ground at the chapel, and then brought them under the ground to the platform, and hid the batteries there. we put a rope fence a hundred feet square around the platform to keep off the common multitude, and that finished the work. my idea was, doors open at 10:30, performance to begin at 11:25 sharp. i wished i could charge admission, but of course that wouldn't answer. i instructed my boys to be in the chapel as early as 10, before anybody was around, and be ready to man the pumps at the proper time, and make the fur fly. then we went home to supper. the news of the disaster to the well had traveled far by this time; and now for two or three days a steady avalanche of people had been pouring into the valley. the lower end of the valley was become one huge camp; we should have a good house, no question about that. criers went the rounds early in the evening and announced the coming attempt, which put every pulse up to fever heat. they gave notice that the abbot and his official suite would move in state and occupy the platform at 10:30, up to which time all the region which was under my ban must be clear; the bells would then cease from tolling, and this sign should be permission to the multitudes to close in and take their places. i was at the platform and all ready to do the honors when the abbot's solemn procession hove in sight--which it did not do till it was nearly to the rope fence, because it was a starless black night and no torches permitted. with it came merlin, and took a front seat on the platform; he was as good as his word for once. one could not see the multitudes banked together beyond the ban, but they were there, just the same. the moment the bells stopped, those banked masses broke and poured over the line like a vast black wave, and for as much as a half hour it continued to flow, and then it solidified itself, and you could have walked upon a pavement of human heads to--well, miles. we had a solemn stage-wait, now, for about twenty minutes--a thing i had counted on for effect; it is always good to let your audience have a chance to work up its expectancy. at length, out of the silence a noble latin chant--men's voices--broke and swelled up and rolled away into the night, a majestic tide of melody. i had put that up, too, and it was one of the best effects i ever invented. when it was finished i stood up on the platform and extended my hands abroad, for two minutes, with my face uplifted--that always produces a dead hush--and then slowly pronounced this ghastly word with a kind of awfulness which caused hundreds to tremble, and many women to faint: "constantinopolitanischerdudelsackspfeifenmachersgesellschafft!" just as i was moaning out the closing hunks of that word, i touched off one of my electric connections and all that murky world of people stood revealed in a hideous blue glare! it was immense --that effect! lots of people shrieked, women curled up and quit in every direction, foundlings collapsed by platoons. the abbot and the monks crossed themselves nimbly and their lips fluttered with agitated prayers. merlin held his grip, but he was astonished clear down to his corns; he had never seen anything to begin with that, before. now was the time to pile in the effects. i lifted my hands and groaned out this word--as it were in agony: "nihilistendynamittheaterkaestchenssprengungsattentaetsversuchungen!" --and turned on the red fire! you should have heard that atlantic of people moan and howl when that crimson hell joined the blue! after sixty seconds i shouted: "transvaaltruppentropentransporttrampelthiertreibertrauungsthraenentragoedie!" --and lit up the green fire! after waiting only forty seconds this time, i spread my arms abroad and thundered out the devastating syllables of this word of words: "mekkamuselmannenmassenmenchenmoerdermohrenmuttermarmormonumentenmacher!" --and whirled on the purple glare! there they were, all going at once, red, blue, green, purple!--four furious volcanoes pouring vast clouds of radiant smoke aloft, and spreading a blinding rainbowed noonday to the furthest confines of that valley. in the distance one could see that fellow on the pillar standing rigid against the background of sky, his seesaw stopped for the first time in twenty years. i knew the boys were at the pump now and ready. so i said to the abbot: "the time is come, father. i am about to pronounce the dread name and command the spell to dissolve. you want to brace up, and take hold of something." then i shouted to the people: "behold, in another minute the spell will be broken, or no mortal can break it. if it break, all will know it, for you will see the sacred water gush from the chapel door!" i stood a few moments, to let the hearers have a chance to spread my announcement to those who couldn't hear, and so convey it to the furthest ranks, then i made a grand exhibition of extra posturing and gesturing, and shouted: "lo, i command the fell spirit that possesses the holy fountain to now disgorge into the skies all the infernal fires that still remain in him, and straightway dissolve his spell and flee hence to the pit, there to lie bound a thousand years. by his own dread name i command it--bgwjjilligkkk!" then i touched off the hogshead of rockets, and a vast fountain of dazzling lances of fire vomited itself toward the zenith with a hissing rush, and burst in mid-sky into a storm of flashing jewels! one mighty groan of terror started up from the massed people --then suddenly broke into a wild hosannah of joy--for there, fair and plain in the uncanny glare, they saw the freed water leaping forth! the old abbot could not speak a word, for tears and the chokings in his throat; without utterance of any sort, he folded me in his arms and mashed me. it was more eloquent than speech. and harder to get over, too, in a country where there were really no doctors that were worth a damaged nickel. you should have seen those acres of people throw themselves down in that water and kiss it; kiss it, and pet it, and fondle it, and talk to it as if it were alive, and welcome it back with the dear names they gave their darlings, just as if it had been a friend who was long gone away and lost, and was come home again. yes, it was pretty to see, and made me think more of them than i had done before. i sent merlin home on a shutter. he had caved in and gone down like a landslide when i pronounced that fearful name, and had never come to since. he never had heard that name before,--neither had i--but to him it was the right one. any jumble would have been the right one. he admitted, afterward, that that spirit's own mother could not have pronounced that name better than i did. he never could understand how i survived it, and i didn't tell him. it is only young magicians that give away a secret like that. merlin spent three months working enchantments to try to find out the deep trick of how to pronounce that name and outlive it. but he didn't arrive. when i started to the chapel, the populace uncovered and fell back reverently to make a wide way for me, as if i had been some kind of a superior being--and i was. i was aware of that. i took along a night shift of monks, and taught them the mystery of the pump, and set them to work, for it was plain that a good part of the people out there were going to sit up with the water all night, consequently it was but right that they should have all they wanted of it. to those monks that pump was a good deal of a miracle itself, and they were full of wonder over it; and of admiration, too, of the exceeding effectiveness of its performance. it was a great night, an immense night. there was reputation in it. i could hardly get to sleep for glorying over it. chapter xxiv a rival magician my influence in the valley of holiness was something prodigious now. it seemed worth while to try to turn it to some valuable account. the thought came to me the next morning, and was suggested by my seeing one of my knights who was in the soap line come riding in. according to history, the monks of this place two centuries before had been worldly minded enough to want to wash. it might be that there was a leaven of this unrighteousness still remaining. so i sounded a brother: "wouldn't you like a bath?" he shuddered at the thought--the thought of the peril of it to the well--but he said with feeling: "one needs not to ask that of a poor body who has not known that blessed refreshment sith that he was a boy. would god i might wash me! but it may not be, fair sir, tempt me not; it is forbidden." and then he sighed in such a sorrowful way that i was resolved he should have at least one layer of his real estate removed, if it sized up my whole influence and bankrupted the pile. so i went to the abbot and asked for a permit for this brother. he blenched at the idea--i don't mean that you could see him blench, for of course you couldn't see it without you scraped him, and i didn't care enough about it to scrape him, but i knew the blench was there, just the same, and within a book-cover's thickness of the surface, too--blenched, and trembled. he said: "ah, son, ask aught else thou wilt, and it is thine, and freely granted out of a grateful heart--but this, oh, this! would you drive away the blessed water again?" "no, father, i will not drive it away. i have mysterious knowledge which teaches me that there was an error that other time when it was thought the institution of the bath banished the fountain." a large interest began to show up in the old man's face. "my knowledge informs me that the bath was innocent of that misfortune, which was caused by quite another sort of sin." "these are brave words--but--but right welcome, if they be true." "they are true, indeed. let me build the bath again, father. let me build it again, and the fountain shall flow forever." "you promise this?--you promise it? say the word--say you promise it!" "i do promise it." "then will i have the first bath myself! go--get ye to your work. tarry not, tarry not, but go." i and my boys were at work, straight off. the ruins of the old bath were there yet in the basement of the monastery, not a stone missing. they had been left just so, all these lifetimes, and avoided with a pious fear, as things accursed. in two days we had it all done and the water in--a spacious pool of clear pure water that a body could swim in. it was running water, too. it came in, and went out, through the ancient pipes. the old abbot kept his word, and was the first to try it. he went down black and shaky, leaving the whole black community above troubled and worried and full of bodings; but he came back white and joyful, and the game was made! another triumph scored. it was a good campaign that we made in that valley of holiness, and i was very well satisfied, and ready to move on now, but i struck a disappointment. i caught a heavy cold, and it started up an old lurking rheumatism of mine. of course the rheumatism hunted up my weakest place and located itself there. this was the place where the abbot put his arms about me and mashed me, what time he was moved to testify his gratitude to me with an embrace. when at last i got out, i was a shadow. but everybody was full of attentions and kindnesses, and these brought cheer back into my life, and were the right medicine to help a convalescent swiftly up toward health and strength again; so i gained fast. sandy was worn out with nursing; so i made up my mind to turn out and go a cruise alone, leaving her at the nunnery to rest up. my idea was to disguise myself as a freeman of peasant degree and wander through the country a week or two on foot. this would give me a chance to eat and lodge with the lowliest and poorest class of free citizens on equal terms. there was no other way to inform myself perfectly of their everyday life and the operation of the laws upon it. if i went among them as a gentleman, there would be restraints and conventionalities which would shut me out from their private joys and troubles, and i should get no further than the outside shell. one morning i was out on a long walk to get up muscle for my trip, and had climbed the ridge which bordered the northern extremity of the valley, when i came upon an artificial opening in the face of a low precipice, and recognized it by its location as a hermitage which had often been pointed out to me from a distance as the den of a hermit of high renown for dirt and austerity. i knew he had lately been offered a situation in the great sahara, where lions and sandflies made the hermit-life peculiarly attractive and difficult, and had gone to africa to take possession, so i thought i would look in and see how the atmosphere of this den agreed with its reputation. my surprise was great: the place was newly swept and scoured. then there was another surprise. back in the gloom of the cavern i heard the clink of a little bell, and then this exclamation: "hello central! is this you, camelot?--behold, thou mayst glad thy heart an thou hast faith to believe the wonderful when that it cometh in unexpected guise and maketh itself manifest in impossible places--here standeth in the flesh his mightiness the boss, and with thine own ears shall ye hear him speak!" now what a radical reversal of things this was; what a jumbling together of extravagant incongruities; what a fantastic conjunction of opposites and irreconcilables--the home of the bogus miracle become the home of a real one, the den of a mediaeval hermit turned into a telephone office! the telephone clerk stepped into the light, and i recognized one of my young fellows. i said: "how long has this office been established here, ulfius?" "but since midnight, fair sir boss, an it please you. we saw many lights in the valley, and so judged it well to make a station, for that where so many lights be needs must they indicate a town of goodly size." "quite right. it isn't a town in the customary sense, but it's a good stand, anyway. do you know where you are?" "of that i have had no time to make inquiry; for whenas my comradeship moved hence upon their labors, leaving me in charge, i got me to needed rest, purposing to inquire when i waked, and report the place's name to camelot for record." "well, this is the valley of holiness." it didn't take; i mean, he didn't start at the name, as i had supposed he would. he merely said: "i will so report it." "why, the surrounding regions are filled with the noise of late wonders that have happened here! you didn't hear of them?" "ah, ye will remember we move by night, and avoid speech with all. we learn naught but that we get by the telephone from camelot." "why _they_ know all about this thing. haven't they told you anything about the great miracle of the restoration of a holy fountain?" "oh, _that_? indeed yes. but the name of _this_ valley doth woundily differ from the name of _that_ one; indeed to differ wider were not pos--" "what was that name, then?" "the valley of hellishness." "_that_ explains it. confound a telephone, anyway. it is the very demon for conveying similarities of sound that are miracles of divergence from similarity of sense. but no matter, you know the name of the place now. call up camelot." he did it, and had clarence sent for. it was good to hear my boy's voice again. it was like being home. after some affectionate interchanges, and some account of my late illness, i said: "what is new?" "the king and queen and many of the court do start even in this hour, to go to your valley to pay pious homage to the waters ye have restored, and cleanse themselves of sin, and see the place where the infernal spirit spouted true hell-flames to the clouds --an ye listen sharply ye may hear me wink and hear me likewise smile a smile, sith 'twas i that made selection of those flames from out our stock and sent them by your order." "does the king know the way to this place?" "the king?--no, nor to any other in his realms, mayhap; but the lads that holp you with your miracle will be his guide and lead the way, and appoint the places for rests at noons and sleeps at night." "this will bring them here--when?" "mid-afternoon, or later, the third day." "anything else in the way of news?" "the king hath begun the raising of the standing army ye suggested to him; one regiment is complete and officered." "the mischief! i wanted a main hand in that myself. there is only one body of men in the kingdom that are fitted to officer a regular army." "yes--and now ye will marvel to know there's not so much as one west pointer in that regiment." "what are you talking about? are you in earnest?" "it is truly as i have said." "why, this makes me uneasy. who were chosen, and what was the method? competitive examination?" "indeed, i know naught of the method. i but know this--these officers be all of noble family, and are born--what is it you call it?--chuckleheads." "there's something wrong, clarence." "comfort yourself, then; for two candidates for a lieutenancy do travel hence with the king--young nobles both--and if you but wait where you are you will hear them questioned." "that is news to the purpose. i will get one west pointer in, anyway. mount a man and send him to that school with a message; let him kill horses, if necessary, but he must be there before sunset to-night and say--" "there is no need. i have laid a ground wire to the school. prithee let me connect you with it." it sounded good! in this atmosphere of telephones and lightning communication with distant regions, i was breathing the breath of life again after long suffocation. i realized, then, what a creepy, dull, inanimate horror this land had been to me all these years, and how i had been in such a stifled condition of mind as to have grown used to it almost beyond the power to notice it. i gave my order to the superintendent of the academy personally. i also asked him to bring me some paper and a fountain pen and a box or so of safety matches. i was getting tired of doing without these conveniences. i could have them now, as i wasn't going to wear armor any more at present, and therefore could get at my pockets. when i got back to the monastery, i found a thing of interest going on. the abbot and his monks were assembled in the great hall, observing with childish wonder and faith the performances of a new magician, a fresh arrival. his dress was the extreme of the fantastic; as showy and foolish as the sort of thing an indian medicine-man wears. he was mowing, and mumbling, and gesticulating, and drawing mystical figures in the air and on the floor,--the regular thing, you know. he was a celebrity from asia--so he said, and that was enough. that sort of evidence was as good as gold, and passed current everywhere. how easy and cheap it was to be a great magician on this fellow's terms. his specialty was to tell you what any individual on the face of the globe was doing at the moment; and what he had done at any time in the past, and what he would do at any time in the future. he asked if any would like to know what the emperor of the east was doing now? the sparkling eyes and the delighted rubbing of hands made eloquent answer--this reverend crowd _would_ like to know what that monarch was at, just as this moment. the fraud went through some more mummery, and then made grave announcement: "the high and mighty emperor of the east doth at this moment put money in the palm of a holy begging friar--one, two, three pieces, and they be all of silver." a buzz of admiring exclamations broke out, all around: "it is marvelous!" "wonderful!" "what study, what labor, to have acquired a so amazing power as this!" would they like to know what the supreme lord of inde was doing? yes. he told them what the supreme lord of inde was doing. then he told them what the sultan of egypt was at; also what the king of the remote seas was about. and so on and so on; and with each new marvel the astonishment at his accuracy rose higher and higher. they thought he must surely strike an uncertain place some time; but no, he never had to hesitate, he always knew, and always with unerring precision. i saw that if this thing went on i should lose my supremacy, this fellow would capture my following, i should be left out in the cold. i must put a cog in his wheel, and do it right away, too. i said: "if i might ask, i should very greatly like to know what a certain person is doing." "speak, and freely. i will tell you." "it will be difficult--perhaps impossible." "my art knoweth not that word. the more difficult it is, the more certainly will i reveal it to you." you see, i was working up the interest. it was getting pretty high, too; you could see that by the craning necks all around, and the half-suspended breathing. so now i climaxed it: "if you make no mistake--if you tell me truly what i want to know--i will give you two hundred silver pennies." "the fortune is mine! i will tell you what you would know." "then tell me what i am doing with my right hand." "ah-h!" there was a general gasp of surprise. it had not occurred to anybody in the crowd--that simple trick of inquiring about somebody who wasn't ten thousand miles away. the magician was hit hard; it was an emergency that had never happened in his experience before, and it corked him; he didn't know how to meet it. he looked stunned, confused; he couldn't say a word. "come," i said, "what are you waiting for? is it possible you can answer up, right off, and tell what anybody on the other side of the earth is doing, and yet can't tell what a person is doing who isn't three yards from you? persons behind me know what i am doing with my right hand--they will indorse you if you tell correctly." he was still dumb. "very well, i'll tell you why you don't speak up and tell; it is because you don't know. _you_ a magician! good friends, this tramp is a mere fraud and liar." this distressed the monks and terrified them. they were not used to hearing these awful beings called names, and they did not know what might be the consequence. there was a dead silence now; superstitious bodings were in every mind. the magician began to pull his wits together, and when he presently smiled an easy, nonchalant smile, it spread a mighty relief around; for it indicated that his mood was not destructive. he said: "it hath struck me speechless, the frivolity of this person's speech. let all know, if perchance there be any who know it not, that enchanters of my degree deign not to concern themselves with the doings of any but kings, princes, emperors, them that be born in the purple and them only. had ye asked me what arthur the great king is doing, it were another matter, and i had told ye; but the doings of a subject interest me not." "oh, i misunderstood you. i thought you said 'anybody,' and so i supposed 'anybody' included--well, anybody; that is, everybody." "it doth--anybody that is of lofty birth; and the better if he be royal." "that, it meseemeth, might well be," said the abbot, who saw his opportunity to smooth things and avert disaster, "for it were not likely that so wonderful a gift as this would be conferred for the revelation of the concerns of lesser beings than such as be born near to the summits of greatness. our arthur the king--" "would you know of him?" broke in the enchanter. "most gladly, yea, and gratefully." everybody was full of awe and interest again right away, the incorrigible idiots. they watched the incantations absorbingly, and looked at me with a "there, now, what can you say to that?" air, when the announcement came: "the king is weary with the chase, and lieth in his palace these two hours sleeping a dreamless sleep." "god's benison upon him!" said the abbot, and crossed himself; "may that sleep be to the refreshment of his body and his soul." "and so it might be, if he were sleeping," i said, "but the king is not sleeping, the king rides." here was trouble again--a conflict of authority. nobody knew which of us to believe; i still had some reputation left. the magician's scorn was stirred, and he said: "lo, i have seen many wonderful soothsayers and prophets and magicians in my life days, but none before that could sit idle and see to the heart of things with never an incantation to help." "you have lived in the woods, and lost much by it. i use incantations myself, as this good brotherhood are aware--but only on occasions of moment." when it comes to sarcasming, i reckon i know how to keep my end up. that jab made this fellow squirm. the abbot inquired after the queen and the court, and got this information: "they be all on sleep, being overcome by fatigue, like as to the king." i said: "that is merely another lie. half of them are about their amusements, the queen and the other half are not sleeping, they ride. now perhaps you can spread yourself a little, and tell us where the king and queen and all that are this moment riding with them are going?" "they sleep now, as i said; but on the morrow they will ride, for they go a journey toward the sea." "and where will they be the day after to-morrow at vespers?" "far to the north of camelot, and half their journey will be done." "that is another lie, by the space of a hundred and fifty miles. their journey will not be merely half done, it will be all done, and they will be _here_, in this valley." _that_ was a noble shot! it set the abbot and the monks in a whirl of excitement, and it rocked the enchanter to his base. i followed the thing right up: "if the king does not arrive, i will have myself ridden on a rail: if he does i will ride you on a rail instead." next day i went up to the telephone office and found that the king had passed through two towns that were on the line. i spotted his progress on the succeeding day in the same way. i kept these matters to myself. the third day's reports showed that if he kept up his gait he would arrive by four in the afternoon. there was still no sign anywhere of interest in his coming; there seemed to be no preparations making to receive him in state; a strange thing, truly. only one thing could explain this: that other magician had been cutting under me, sure. this was true. i asked a friend of mine, a monk, about it, and he said, yes, the magician had tried some further enchantments and found out that the court had concluded to make no journey at all, but stay at home. think of that! observe how much a reputation was worth in such a country. these people had seen me do the very showiest bit of magic in history, and the only one within their memory that had a positive value, and yet here they were, ready to take up with an adventurer who could offer no evidence of his powers but his mere unproven word. however, it was not good politics to let the king come without any fuss and feathers at all, so i went down and drummed up a procession of pilgrims and smoked out a batch of hermits and started them out at two o'clock to meet him. and that was the sort of state he arrived in. the abbot was helpless with rage and humiliation when i brought him out on a balcony and showed him the head of the state marching in and never a monk on hand to offer him welcome, and no stir of life or clang of joy-bell to glad his spirit. he took one look and then flew to rouse out his forces. the next minute the bells were dinning furiously, and the various buildings were vomiting monks and nuns, who went swarming in a rush toward the coming procession; and with them went that magician --and he was on a rail, too, by the abbot's order; and his reputation was in the mud, and mine was in the sky again. yes, a man can keep his trademark current in such a country, but he can't sit around and do it; he has got to be on deck and attending to business right along. chapter xxv a competitive examination when the king traveled for change of air, or made a progress, or visited a distant noble whom he wished to bankrupt with the cost of his keep, part of the administration moved with him. it was a fashion of the time. the commission charged with the examination of candidates for posts in the army came with the king to the valley, whereas they could have transacted their business just as well at home. and although this expedition was strictly a holiday excursion for the king, he kept some of his business functions going just the same. he touched for the evil, as usual; he held court in the gate at sunrise and tried cases, for he was himself chief justice of the king's bench. he shone very well in this latter office. he was a wise and humane judge, and he clearly did his honest best and fairest,--according to his lights. that is a large reservation. his lights--i mean his rearing--often colored his decisions. whenever there was a dispute between a noble or gentleman and a person of lower degree, the king's leanings and sympathies were for the former class always, whether he suspected it or not. it was impossible that this should be otherwise. the blunting effects of slavery upon the slaveholder's moral perceptions are known and conceded, the world over; and a privileged class, an aristocracy, is but a band of slaveholders under another name. this has a harsh sound, and yet should not be offensive to any--even to the noble himself--unless the fact itself be an offense: for the statement simply formulates a fact. the repulsive feature of slavery is the _thing_, not its name. one needs but to hear an aristocrat speak of the classes that are below him to recognize--and in but indifferently modified measure --the very air and tone of the actual slaveholder; and behind these are the slaveholder's spirit, the slaveholder's blunted feeling. they are the result of the same cause in both cases: the possessor's old and inbred custom of regarding himself as a superior being. the king's judgments wrought frequent injustices, but it was merely the fault of his training, his natural and unalterable sympathies. he was as unfitted for a judgeship as would be the average mother for the position of milk-distributor to starving children in famine-time; her own children would fare a shade better than the rest. one very curious case came before the king. a young girl, an orphan, who had a considerable estate, married a fine young fellow who had nothing. the girl's property was within a seigniory held by the church. the bishop of the diocese, an arrogant scion of the great nobility, claimed the girl's estate on the ground that she had married privately, and thus had cheated the church out of one of its rights as lord of the seigniory--the one heretofore referred to as le droit du seigneur. the penalty of refusal or avoidance was confiscation. the girl's defense was, that the lordship of the seigniory was vested in the bishop, and the particular right here involved was not transferable, but must be exercised by the lord himself or stand vacated; and that an older law, of the church itself, strictly barred the bishop from exercising it. it was a very odd case, indeed. it reminded me of something i had read in my youth about the ingenious way in which the aldermen of london raised the money that built the mansion house. a person who had not taken the sacrament according to the anglican rite could not stand as a candidate for sheriff of london. thus dissenters were ineligible; they could not run if asked, they could not serve if elected. the aldermen, who without any question were yankees in disguise, hit upon this neat device: they passed a by-law imposing a fine of l400 upon any one who should refuse to be a candidate for sheriff, and a fine of l600 upon any person who, after being elected sheriff, refused to serve. then they went to work and elected a lot of dissenters, one after another, and kept it up until they had collected l15,000 in fines; and there stands the stately mansion house to this day, to keep the blushing citizen in mind of a long past and lamented day when a band of yankees slipped into london and played games of the sort that has given their race a unique and shady reputation among all truly good and holy peoples that be in the earth. the girl's case seemed strong to me; the bishop's case was just as strong. i did not see how the king was going to get out of this hole. but he got out. i append his decision: "truly i find small difficulty here, the matter being even a child's affair for simpleness. an the young bride had conveyed notice, as in duty bound, to her feudal lord and proper master and protector the bishop, she had suffered no loss, for the said bishop could have got a dispensation making him, for temporary conveniency, eligible to the exercise of his said right, and thus would she have kept all she had. whereas, failing in her first duty, she hath by that failure failed in all; for whoso, clinging to a rope, severeth it above his hands, must fall; it being no defense to claim that the rest of the rope is sound, neither any deliverance from his peril, as he shall find. pardy, the woman's case is rotten at the source. it is the decree of the court that she forfeit to the said lord bishop all her goods, even to the last farthing that she doth possess, and be thereto mulcted in the costs. next!" here was a tragic end to a beautiful honeymoon not yet three months old. poor young creatures! they had lived these three months lapped to the lips in worldly comforts. these clothes and trinkets they were wearing were as fine and dainty as the shrewdest stretch of the sumptuary laws allowed to people of their degree; and in these pretty clothes, she crying on his shoulder, and he trying to comfort her with hopeful words set to the music of despair, they went from the judgment seat out into the world homeless, bedless, breadless; why, the very beggars by the roadsides were not so poor as they. well, the king was out of the hole; and on terms satisfactory to the church and the rest of the aristocracy, no doubt. men write many fine and plausible arguments in support of monarchy, but the fact remains that where every man in a state has a vote, brutal laws are impossible. arthur's people were of course poor material for a republic, because they had been debased so long by monarchy; and yet even they would have been intelligent enough to make short work of that law which the king had just been administering if it had been submitted to their full and free vote. there is a phrase which has grown so common in the world's mouth that it has come to seem to have sense and meaning--the sense and meaning implied when it is used; that is the phrase which refers to this or that or the other nation as possibly being "capable of self-government"; and the implied sense of it is, that there has been a nation somewhere, some time or other which _wasn't_ capable of it--wasn't as able to govern itself as some self-appointed specialists were or would be to govern it. the master minds of all nations, in all ages, have sprung in affluent multitude from the mass of the nation, and from the mass of the nation only--not from its privileged classes; and so, no matter what the nation's intellectual grade was; whether high or low, the bulk of its ability was in the long ranks of its nameless and its poor, and so it never saw the day that it had not the material in abundance whereby to govern itself. which is to assert an always self-proven fact: that even the best governed and most free and most enlightened monarchy is still behind the best condition attainable by its people; and that the same is true of kindred governments of lower grades, all the way down to the lowest. king arthur had hurried up the army business altogether beyond my calculations. i had not supposed he would move in the matter while i was away; and so i had not mapped out a scheme for determining the merits of officers; i had only remarked that it would be wise to submit every candidate to a sharp and searching examination; and privately i meant to put together a list of military qualifications that nobody could answer to but my west pointers. that ought to have been attended to before i left; for the king was so taken with the idea of a standing army that he couldn't wait but must get about it at once, and get up as good a scheme of examination as he could invent out of his own head. i was impatient to see what this was; and to show, too, how much more admirable was the one which i should display to the examining board. i intimated this, gently, to the king, and it fired his curiosity. when the board was assembled, i followed him in; and behind us came the candidates. one of these candidates was a bright young west pointer of mine, and with him were a couple of my west point professors. when i saw the board, i did not know whether to cry or to laugh. the head of it was the officer known to later centuries as norroy king-at-arms! the two other members were chiefs of bureaus in his department; and all three were priests, of course; all officials who had to know how to read and write were priests. my candidate was called first, out of courtesy to me, and the head of the board opened on him with official solemnity: "name?" "mal-ease." "son of?" "webster." "webster--webster. h'm--i--my memory faileth to recall the name. condition?" "weaver." "weaver!--god keep us!" the king was staggered, from his summit to his foundations; one clerk fainted, and the others came near it. the chairman pulled himself together, and said indignantly: "it is sufficient. get you hence." but i appealed to the king. i begged that my candidate might be examined. the king was willing, but the board, who were all well-born folk, implored the king to spare them the indignity of examining the weaver's son. i knew they didn't know enough to examine him anyway, so i joined my prayers to theirs and the king turned the duty over to my professors. i had had a blackboard prepared, and it was put up now, and the circus began. it was beautiful to hear the lad lay out the science of war, and wallow in details of battle and siege, of supply, transportation, mining and countermining, grand tactics, big strategy and little strategy, signal service, infantry, cavalry, artillery, and all about siege guns, field guns, gatling guns, rifled guns, smooth bores, musket practice, revolver practice--and not a solitary word of it all could these catfish make head or tail of, you understand--and it was handsome to see him chalk off mathematical nightmares on the blackboard that would stump the angels themselves, and do it like nothing, too--all about eclipses, and comets, and solstices, and constellations, and mean time, and sidereal time, and dinner time, and bedtime, and every other imaginable thing above the clouds or under them that you could harry or bullyrag an enemy with and make him wish he hadn't come--and when the boy made his military salute and stood aside at last, i was proud enough to hug him, and all those other people were so dazed they looked partly petrified, partly drunk, and wholly caught out and snowed under. i judged that the cake was ours, and by a large majority. education is a great thing. this was the same youth who had come to west point so ignorant that when i asked him, "if a general officer should have a horse shot under him on the field of battle, what ought he to do?" answered up naively and said: "get up and brush himself." one of the young nobles was called up now. i thought i would question him a little myself. i said: "can your lordship read?" his face flushed indignantly, and he fired this at me: "takest me for a clerk? i trow i am not of a blood that--" "answer the question!" he crowded his wrath down and made out to answer "no." "can you write?" he wanted to resent this, too, but i said: "you will confine yourself to the questions, and make no comments. you are not here to air your blood or your graces, and nothing of the sort will be permitted. can you write?" "no." "do you know the multiplication table?" "i wit not what ye refer to." "how much is 9 times 6?" "it is a mystery that is hidden from me by reason that the emergency requiring the fathoming of it hath not in my life-days occurred, and so, not having no need to know this thing, i abide barren of the knowledge." "if a trade a barrel of onions to b, worth 2 pence the bushel, in exchange for a sheep worth 4 pence and a dog worth a penny, and c kill the dog before delivery, because bitten by the same, who mistook him for d, what sum is still due to a from b, and which party pays for the dog, c or d, and who gets the money? if a, is the penny sufficient, or may he claim consequential damages in the form of additional money to represent the possible profit which might have inured from the dog, and classifiable as earned increment, that is to say, usufruct?" "verily, in the all-wise and unknowable providence of god, who moveth in mysterious ways his wonders to perform, have i never heard the fellow to this question for confusion of the mind and congestion of the ducts of thought. wherefore i beseech you let the dog and the onions and these people of the strange and godless names work out their several salvations from their piteous and wonderful difficulties without help of mine, for indeed their trouble is sufficient as it is, whereas an i tried to help i should but damage their cause the more and yet mayhap not live myself to see the desolation wrought." "what do you know of the laws of attraction and gravitation?" "if there be such, mayhap his grace the king did promulgate them whilst that i lay sick about the beginning of the year and thereby failed to hear his proclamation." "what do you know of the science of optics?" "i know of governors of places, and seneschals of castles, and sheriffs of counties, and many like small offices and titles of honor, but him you call the science of optics i have not heard of before; peradventure it is a new dignity." "yes, in this country." try to conceive of this mollusk gravely applying for an official position, of any kind under the sun! why, he had all the earmarks of a typewriter copyist, if you leave out the disposition to contribute uninvited emendations of your grammar and punctuation. it was unaccountable that he didn't attempt a little help of that sort out of his majestic supply of incapacity for the job. but that didn't prove that he hadn't material in him for the disposition, it only proved that he wasn't a typewriter copyist yet. after nagging him a little more, i let the professors loose on him and they turned him inside out, on the line of scientific war, and found him empty, of course. he knew somewhat about the warfare of the time--bushwhacking around for ogres, and bull-fights in the tournament ring, and such things--but otherwise he was empty and useless. then we took the other young noble in hand, and he was the first one's twin, for ignorance and incapacity. i delivered them into the hands of the chairman of the board with the comfortable consciousness that their cake was dough. they were examined in the previous order of precedence. "name, so please you?" "pertipole, son of sir pertipole, baron of barley mash." "grandfather?" "also sir pertipole, baron of barley mash." "great-grandfather?" "the same name and title." "great-great-grandfather?" "we had none, worshipful sir, the line failing before it had reached so far back." "it mattereth not. it is a good four generations, and fulfilleth the requirements of the rule." "fulfills what rule?" i asked. "the rule requiring four generations of nobility or else the candidate is not eligible." "a man not eligible for a lieutenancy in the army unless he can prove four generations of noble descent?" "even so; neither lieutenant nor any other officer may be commissioned without that qualification." "oh, come, this is an astonishing thing. what good is such a qualification as that?" "what good? it is a hardy question, fair sir and boss, since it doth go far to impugn the wisdom of even our holy mother church herself." "as how?" "for that she hath established the self-same rule regarding saints. by her law none may be canonized until he hath lain dead four generations." "i see, i see--it is the same thing. it is wonderful. in the one case a man lies dead-alive four generations--mummified in ignorance and sloth--and that qualifies him to command live people, and take their weal and woe into his impotent hands; and in the other case, a man lies bedded with death and worms four generations, and that qualifies him for office in the celestial camp. does the king's grace approve of this strange law?" the king said: "why, truly i see naught about it that is strange. all places of honor and of profit do belong, by natural right, to them that be of noble blood, and so these dignities in the army are their property and would be so without this or any rule. the rule is but to mark a limit. its purpose is to keep out too recent blood, which would bring into contempt these offices, and men of lofty lineage would turn their backs and scorn to take them. i were to blame an i permitted this calamity. _you_ can permit it an you are minded so to do, for you have the delegated authority, but that the king should do it were a most strange madness and not comprehensible to any." "i yield. proceed, sir chief of the herald's college." the chairman resumed as follows: "by what illustrious achievement for the honor of the throne and state did the founder of your great line lift himself to the sacred dignity of the british nobility?" "he built a brewery." "sire, the board finds this candidate perfect in all the requirements and qualifications for military command, and doth hold his case open for decision after due examination of his competitor." the competitor came forward and proved exactly four generations of nobility himself. so there was a tie in military qualifications that far. he stood aside a moment, and sir pertipole was questioned further: "of what condition was the wife of the founder of your line?" "she came of the highest landed gentry, yet she was not noble; she was gracious and pure and charitable, of a blameless life and character, insomuch that in these regards was she peer of the best lady in the land." "that will do. stand down." he called up the competing lordling again, and asked: "what was the rank and condition of the great-grandmother who conferred british nobility upon your great house?" "she was a king's leman and did climb to that splendid eminence by her own unholpen merit from the sewer where she was born." "ah, this, indeed, is true nobility, this is the right and perfect intermixture. the lieutenancy is yours, fair lord. hold it not in contempt; it is the humble step which will lead to grandeurs more worthy of the splendor of an origin like to thine." i was down in the bottomless pit of humiliation. i had promised myself an easy and zenith-scouring triumph, and this was the outcome! i was almost ashamed to look my poor disappointed cadet in the face. i told him to go home and be patient, this wasn't the end. i had a private audience with the king, and made a proposition. i said it was quite right to officer that regiment with nobilities, and he couldn't have done a wiser thing. it would also be a good idea to add five hundred officers to it; in fact, add as many officers as there were nobles and relatives of nobles in the country, even if there should finally be five times as many officers as privates in it; and thus make it the crack regiment, the envied regiment, the king's own regiment, and entitled to fight on its own hook and in its own way, and go whither it would and come when it pleased, in time of war, and be utterly swell and independent. this would make that regiment the heart's desire of all the nobility, and they would all be satisfied and happy. then we would make up the rest of the standing army out of commonplace materials, and officer it with nobodies, as was proper--nobodies selected on a basis of mere efficiency--and we would make this regiment toe the line, allow it no aristocratic freedom from restraint, and force it to do all the work and persistent hammering, to the end that whenever the king's own was tired and wanted to go off for a change and rummage around amongst ogres and have a good time, it could go without uneasiness, knowing that matters were in safe hands behind it, and business going to be continued at the old stand, same as usual. the king was charmed with the idea. when i noticed that, it gave me a valuable notion. i thought i saw my way out of an old and stubborn difficulty at last. you see, the royalties of the pendragon stock were a long-lived race and very fruitful. whenever a child was born to any of these --and it was pretty often--there was wild joy in the nation's mouth, and piteous sorrow in the nation's heart. the joy was questionable, but the grief was honest. because the event meant another call for a royal grant. long was the list of these royalties, and they were a heavy and steadily increasing burden upon the treasury and a menace to the crown. yet arthur could not believe this latter fact, and he would not listen to any of my various projects for substituting something in the place of the royal grants. if i could have persuaded him to now and then provide a support for one of these outlying scions from his own pocket, i could have made a grand to-do over it, and it would have had a good effect with the nation; but no, he wouldn't hear of such a thing. he had something like a religious passion for royal grant; he seemed to look upon it as a sort of sacred swag, and one could not irritate him in any way so quickly and so surely as by an attack upon that venerable institution. if i ventured to cautiously hint that there was not another respectable family in england that would humble itself to hold out the hat--however, that is as far as i ever got; he always cut me short there, and peremptorily, too. but i believed i saw my chance at last. i would form this crack regiment out of officers alone--not a single private. half of it should consist of nobles, who should fill all the places up to major-general, and serve gratis and pay their own expenses; and they would be glad to do this when they should learn that the rest of the regiment would consist exclusively of princes of the blood. these princes of the blood should range in rank from lieutenant-general up to field marshal, and be gorgeously salaried and equipped and fed by the state. moreover--and this was the master stroke --it should be decreed that these princely grandees should be always addressed by a stunningly gaudy and awe-compelling title (which i would presently invent), and they and they only in all england should be so addressed. finally, all princes of the blood should have free choice; join that regiment, get that great title, and renounce the royal grant, or stay out and receive a grant. neatest touch of all: unborn but imminent princes of the blood could be _born_ into the regiment, and start fair, with good wages and a permanent situation, upon due notice from the parents. all the boys would join, i was sure of that; so, all existing grants would be relinquished; that the newly born would always join was equally certain. within sixty days that quaint and bizarre anomaly, the royal grant, would cease to be a living fact, and take its place among the curiosities of the past. chapter xxvi the first newspaper when i told the king i was going out disguised as a petty freeman to scour the country and familiarize myself with the humbler life of the people, he was all afire with the novelty of the thing in a minute, and was bound to take a chance in the adventure himself--nothing should stop him--he would drop everything and go along--it was the prettiest idea he had run across for many a day. he wanted to glide out the back way and start at once; but i showed him that that wouldn't answer. you see, he was billed for the king's-evil--to touch for it, i mean--and it wouldn't be right to disappoint the house and it wouldn't make a delay worth considering, anyway, it was only a one-night stand. and i thought he ought to tell the queen he was going away. he clouded up at that and looked sad. i was sorry i had spoken, especially when he said mournfully: "thou forgettest that launcelot is here; and where launcelot is, she noteth not the going forth of the king, nor what day he returneth." of course, i changed the subject. yes, guenever was beautiful, it is true, but take her all around she was pretty slack. i never meddled in these matters, they weren't my affair, but i did hate to see the way things were going on, and i don't mind saying that much. many's the time she had asked me, "sir boss, hast seen sir launcelot about?" but if ever she went fretting around for the king i didn't happen to be around at the time. there was a very good lay-out for the king's-evil business--very tidy and creditable. the king sat under a canopy of state; about him were clustered a large body of the clergy in full canonicals. conspicuous, both for location and personal outfit, stood marinel, a hermit of the quack-doctor species, to introduce the sick. all abroad over the spacious floor, and clear down to the doors, in a thick jumble, lay or sat the scrofulous, under a strong light. it was as good as a tableau; in fact, it had all the look of being gotten up for that, though it wasn't. there were eight hundred sick people present. the work was slow; it lacked the interest of novelty for me, because i had seen the ceremonies before; the thing soon became tedious, but the proprieties required me to stick it out. the doctor was there for the reason that in all such crowds there were many people who only imagined something was the matter with them, and many who were consciously sound but wanted the immortal honor of fleshly contact with a king, and yet others who pretended to illness in order to get the piece of coin that went with the touch. up to this time this coin had been a wee little gold piece worth about a third of a dollar. when you consider how much that amount of money would buy, in that age and country, and how usual it was to be scrofulous, when not dead, you would understand that the annual king's-evil appropriation was just the river and harbor bill of that government for the grip it took on the treasury and the chance it afforded for skinning the surplus. so i had privately concluded to touch the treasury itself for the king's-evil. i covered six-sevenths of the appropriation into the treasury a week before starting from camelot on my adventures, and ordered that the other seventh be inflated into five-cent nickels and delivered into the hands of the head clerk of the king's evil department; a nickel to take the place of each gold coin, you see, and do its work for it. it might strain the nickel some, but i judged it could stand it. as a rule, i do not approve of watering stock, but i considered it square enough in this case, for it was just a gift, anyway. of course, you can water a gift as much as you want to; and i generally do. the old gold and silver coins of the country were of ancient and unknown origin, as a rule, but some of them were roman; they were ill-shapen, and seldom rounder than a moon that is a week past the full; they were hammered, not minted, and they were so worn with use that the devices upon them were as illegible as blisters, and looked like them. i judged that a sharp, bright new nickel, with a first-rate likeness of the king on one side of it and guenever on the other, and a blooming pious motto, would take the tuck out of scrofula as handy as a nobler coin and please the scrofulous fancy more; and i was right. this batch was the first it was tried on, and it worked to a charm. the saving in expense was a notable economy. you will see that by these figures: we touched a trifle over 700 of the 800 patients; at former rates, this would have cost the government about $240; at the new rate we pulled through for about $35, thus saving upward of $200 at one swoop. to appreciate the full magnitude of this stroke, consider these other figures: the annual expenses of a national government amount to the equivalent of a contribution of three days' average wages of every individual of the population, counting every individual as if he were a man. if you take a nation of 60,000,000, where average wages are $2 per day, three days' wages taken from each individual will provide $360,000,000 and pay the government's expenses. in my day, in my own country, this money was collected from imposts, and the citizen imagined that the foreign importer paid it, and it made him comfortable to think so; whereas, in fact, it was paid by the american people, and was so equally and exactly distributed among them that the annual cost to the 100-millionaire and the annual cost to the sucking child of the day-laborer was precisely the same--each paid $6. nothing could be equaler than that, i reckon. well, scotland and ireland were tributary to arthur, and the united populations of the british islands amounted to something less than 1,000,000. a mechanic's average wage was 3 cents a day, when he paid his own keep. by this rule the national government's expenses were $90,000 a year, or about $250 a day. thus, by the substitution of nickels for gold on a king's-evil day, i not only injured no one, dissatisfied no one, but pleased all concerned and saved four-fifths of that day's national expense into the bargain--a saving which would have been the equivalent of $800,000 in my day in america. in making this substitution i had drawn upon the wisdom of a very remote source--the wisdom of my boyhood--for the true statesman does not despise any wisdom, howsoever lowly may be its origin: in my boyhood i had always saved my pennies and contributed buttons to the foreign missionary cause. the buttons would answer the ignorant savage as well as the coin, the coin would answer me better than the buttons; all hands were happy and nobody hurt. marinel took the patients as they came. he examined the candidate; if he couldn't qualify he was warned off; if he could he was passed along to the king. a priest pronounced the words, "they shall lay their hands on the sick, and they shall recover." then the king stroked the ulcers, while the reading continued; finally, the patient graduated and got his nickel--the king hanging it around his neck himself--and was dismissed. would you think that that would cure? it certainly did. any mummery will cure if the patient's faith is strong in it. up by astolat there was a chapel where the virgin had once appeared to a girl who used to herd geese around there--the girl said so herself--and they built the chapel upon that spot and hung a picture in it representing the occurrence--a picture which you would think it dangerous for a sick person to approach; whereas, on the contrary, thousands of the lame and the sick came and prayed before it every year and went away whole and sound; and even the well could look upon it and live. of course, when i was told these things i did not believe them; but when i went there and saw them i had to succumb. i saw the cures effected myself; and they were real cures and not questionable. i saw cripples whom i had seen around camelot for years on crutches, arrive and pray before that picture, and put down their crutches and walk off without a limp. there were piles of crutches there which had been left by such people as a testimony. in other places people operated on a patient's mind, without saying a word to him, and cured him. in others, experts assembled patients in a room and prayed over them, and appealed to their faith, and those patients went away cured. wherever you find a king who can't cure the king's-evil you can be sure that the most valuable superstition that supports his throne--the subject's belief in the divine appointment of his sovereign--has passed away. in my youth the monarchs of england had ceased to touch for the evil, but there was no occasion for this diffidence: they could have cured it forty-nine times in fifty. well, when the priest had been droning for three hours, and the good king polishing the evidences, and the sick were still pressing forward as plenty as ever, i got to feeling intolerably bored. i was sitting by an open window not far from the canopy of state. for the five hundredth time a patient stood forward to have his repulsivenesses stroked; again those words were being droned out: "they shall lay their hands on the sick"--when outside there rang clear as a clarion a note that enchanted my soul and tumbled thirteen worthless centuries about my ears: "camelot _weekly hosannah and literary volcano!_--latest irruption--only two cents --all about the big miracle in the valley of holiness!" one greater than kings had arrived--the newsboy. but i was the only person in all that throng who knew the meaning of this mighty birth, and what this imperial magician was come into the world to do. i dropped a nickel out of the window and got my paper; the adam-newsboy of the world went around the corner to get my change; is around the corner yet. it was delicious to see a newspaper again, yet i was conscious of a secret shock when my eye fell upon the first batch of display head-lines. i had lived in a clammy atmosphere of reverence, respect, deference, so long that they sent a quivery little cold wave through me: high times in the valley of holiness! --- the water-works corked! --- brer merlin works his arts, but gets left? --- but the boss scores on his first innings! --- the miraculous well uncorked amid awful outbursts of infernal fire and smoke athunder! --- the buzzard-roost astonished! --- unparalleled rejoibings! --and so on, and so on. yes, it was too loud. once i could have enjoyed it and seen nothing out of the way about it, but now its note was discordant. it was good arkansas journalism, but this was not arkansas. moreover, the next to the last line was calculated to give offense to the hermits, and perhaps lose us their advertising. indeed, there was too lightsome a tone of flippancy all through the paper. it was plain i had undergone a considerable change without noticing it. i found myself unpleasantly affected by pert little irreverencies which would have seemed but proper and airy graces of speech at an earlier period of my life. there was an abundance of the following breed of items, and they discomforted me: local smoke and cinders. sir launcelot met up with old king agrivance of ireland unexpectedly last weok over on the moor south of sir balmoral le merveilleuse's hog dasture. the widow has been notified. expedition no. 3 will start adout the first of mext month on a search f8r sir sagramour le desirous. it is in com and of the renowned knight of the red lawns, assissted by sir persant of inde, who is compete9t. intelligent, courte ous, and in every way a brick, and fur ther assisted by sir palamides the sara cen, who is no huckleberry hinself. this is no pic-nic, these boys mean busine&s. the readers of the hosannah will re gret to learn that the hadndsome and popular sir charolais of gaul, who dur ing his four weeks' stay at the bull and halibut, this city, has won every heart by his polished manners and elegant cpnversation, will pull out to-day for home. give us another call, charley! the bdsiness end of the funeral of the late sir dalliance the duke's son of cornwall, killed in an encounter with the giant of the knotted bludgeon last tuesday on the borders of the plain of enchantment was in the hands of the ever affable and efficient mumble, prince of un3ertakers, then whom there exists none by whom it were a more satisfying pleasure to have the last sad offices performed. give him a trial. the cordial thanks of the hosannah office are due, from editor down to devil, to the ever courteous and thought ful lord high stew d of the palace's third assistant v t for several sau cets of ice cream a quality calculated to make the ey of the recipients hu mid with grt ude; and it done it. when this administration wants to chalk up a desirable name for early promotion, the hosannah would like a chance to sudgest. the demoiselle irene dewlap, of south astolat, is visiting her uncle, the popular host of the cattlemen's board ing ho&se, liver lane, this city. young barker the bellows-mender is home again, and looks much improved by his vacation round-up among the out lying smithies. see his ad. of course it was good enough journalism for a beginning; i knew that quite well, and yet it was somehow disappointing. the "court circular" pleased me better; indeed, its simple and dignified respectfulness was a distinct refreshment to me after all those disgraceful familiarities. but even it could have been improved. do what one may, there is no getting an air of variety into a court circular, i acknowledge that. there is a profound monotonousness about its facts that baffles and defeats one's sincerest efforts to make them sparkle and enthuse. the best way to manage--in fact, the only sensible way--is to disguise repetitiousness of fact under variety of form: skin your fact each time and lay on a new cuticle of words. it deceives the eye; you think it is a new fact; it gives you the idea that the court is carrying on like everything; this excites you, and you drain the whole column, with a good appetite, and perhaps never notice that it's a barrel of soup made out of a single bean. clarence's way was good, it was simple, it was dignified, it was direct and business-like; all i say is, it was not the best way: court circular. on monday, the king rode in the park. " tuesday, " " " " wendesday " " " " thursday " " " " friday, " " " " saturday " " " " sunday, " " " however, take the paper by and large, i was vastly pleased with it. little crudities of a mechanical sort were observable here and there, but there were not enough of them to amount to anything, and it was good enough arkansas proof-reading, anyhow, and better than was needed in arthur's day and realm. as a rule, the grammar was leaky and the construction more or less lame; but i did not much mind these things. they are common defects of my own, and one mustn't criticise other people on grounds where he can't stand perpendicular himself. i was hungry enough for literature to want to take down the whole paper at this one meal, but i got only a few bites, and then had to postpone, because the monks around me besieged me so with eager questions: what is this curious thing? what is it for? is it a handkerchief?--saddle blanket?--part of a shirt? what is it made of? how thin it is, and how dainty and frail; and how it rattles. will it wear, do you think, and won't the rain injure it? is it writing that appears on it, or is it only ornamentation? they suspected it was writing, because those among them who knew how to read latin and had a smattering of greek, recognized some of the letters, but they could make nothing out of the result as a whole. i put my information in the simplest form i could: "it is a public journal; i will explain what that is, another time. it is not cloth, it is made of paper; some time i will explain what paper is. the lines on it are reading matter; and not written by hand, but printed; by and by i will explain what printing is. a thousand of these sheets have been made, all exactly like this, in every minute detail--they can't be told apart." then they all broke out with exclamations of surprise and admiration: "a thousand! verily a mighty work--a year's work for many men." "no--merely a day's work for a man and a boy." they crossed themselves, and whiffed out a protective prayer or two. "ah-h--a miracle, a wonder! dark work of enchantment." i let it go at that. then i read in a low voice, to as many as could crowd their shaven heads within hearing distance, part of the account of the miracle of the restoration of the well, and was accompanied by astonished and reverent ejaculations all through: "ah-h-h!" "how true!" "amazing, amazing!" "these be the very haps as they happened, in marvelous exactness!" and might they take this strange thing in their hands, and feel of it and examine it?--they would be very careful. yes. so they took it, handling it as cautiously and devoutly as if it had been some holy thing come from some supernatural region; and gently felt of its texture, caressed its pleasant smooth surface with lingering touch, and scanned the mysterious characters with fascinated eyes. these grouped bent heads, these charmed faces, these speaking eyes --how beautiful to me! for was not this my darling, and was not all this mute wonder and interest and homage a most eloquent tribute and unforced compliment to it? i knew, then, how a mother feels when women, whether strangers or friends, take her new baby, and close themselves about it with one eager impulse, and bend their heads over it in a tranced adoration that makes all the rest of the universe vanish out of their consciousness and be as if it were not, for that time. i knew how she feels, and that there is no other satisfied ambition, whether of king, conqueror, or poet, that ever reaches half-way to that serene far summit or yields half so divine a contentment. during all the rest of the seance my paper traveled from group to group all up and down and about that huge hall, and my happy eye was upon it always, and i sat motionless, steeped in satisfaction, drunk with enjoyment. yes, this was heaven; i was tasting it once, if i might never taste it more. a connecticut yankee in king arthur's court by mark twain (samuel l. clemens) part 4. chapter xvii a royal banquet madame, seeing me pacific and unresentful, no doubt judged that i was deceived by her excuse; for her fright dissolved away, and she was soon so importunate to have me give an exhibition and kill somebody, that the thing grew to be embarrassing. however, to my relief she was presently interrupted by the call to prayers. i will say this much for the nobility: that, tyrannical, murderous, rapacious, and morally rotten as they were, they were deeply and enthusiastically religious. nothing could divert them from the regular and faithful performance of the pieties enjoined by the church. more than once i had seen a noble who had gotten his enemy at a disadvantage, stop to pray before cutting his throat; more than once i had seen a noble, after ambushing and despatching his enemy, retire to the nearest wayside shrine and humbly give thanks, without even waiting to rob the body. there was to be nothing finer or sweeter in the life of even benvenuto cellini, that rough-hewn saint, ten centuries later. all the nobles of britain, with their families, attended divine service morning and night daily, in their private chapels, and even the worst of them had family worship five or six times a day besides. the credit of this belonged entirely to the church. although i was no friend to that catholic church, i was obliged to admit this. and often, in spite of me, i found myself saying, "what would this country be without the church?" after prayers we had dinner in a great banqueting hall which was lighted by hundreds of grease-jets, and everything was as fine and lavish and rudely splendid as might become the royal degree of the hosts. at the head of the hall, on a dais, was the table of the king, queen, and their son, prince uwaine. stretching down the hall from this, was the general table, on the floor. at this, above the salt, sat the visiting nobles and the grown members of their families, of both sexes,--the resident court, in effect--sixty-one persons; below the salt sat minor officers of the household, with their principal subordinates: altogether a hundred and eighteen persons sitting, and about as many liveried servants standing behind their chairs, or serving in one capacity or another. it was a very fine show. in a gallery a band with cymbals, horns, harps, and other horrors, opened the proceedings with what seemed to be the crude first-draft or original agony of the wail known to later centuries as "in the sweet bye and bye." it was new, and ought to have been rehearsed a little more. for some reason or other the queen had the composer hanged, after dinner. after this music, the priest who stood behind the royal table said a noble long grace in ostensible latin. then the battalion of waiters broke away from their posts, and darted, rushed, flew, fetched and carried, and the mighty feeding began; no words anywhere, but absorbing attention to business. the rows of chops opened and shut in vast unison, and the sound of it was like to the muffled burr of subterranean machinery. the havoc continued an hour and a half, and unimaginable was the destruction of substantials. of the chief feature of the feast --the huge wild boar that lay stretched out so portly and imposing at the start--nothing was left but the semblance of a hoop-skirt; and he was but the type and symbol of what had happened to all the other dishes. with the pastries and so on, the heavy drinking began--and the talk. gallon after gallon of wine and mead disappeared, and everybody got comfortable, then happy, then sparklingly joyous--both sexes, --and by and by pretty noisy. men told anecdotes that were terrific to hear, but nobody blushed; and when the nub was sprung, the assemblage let go with a horse-laugh that shook the fortress. ladies answered back with historiettes that would almost have made queen margaret of navarre or even the great elizabeth of england hide behind a handkerchief, but nobody hid here, but only laughed --howled, you may say. in pretty much all of these dreadful stories, ecclesiastics were the hardy heroes, but that didn't worry the chaplain any, he had his laugh with the rest; more than that, upon invitation he roared out a song which was of as daring a sort as any that was sung that night. by midnight everybody was fagged out, and sore with laughing; and, as a rule, drunk: some weepingly, some affectionately, some hilariously, some quarrelsomely, some dead and under the table. of the ladies, the worst spectacle was a lovely young duchess, whose wedding-eve this was; and indeed she was a spectacle, sure enough. just as she was she could have sat in advance for the portrait of the young daughter of the regent d'orleans, at the famous dinner whence she was carried, foul-mouthed, intoxicated, and helpless, to her bed, in the lost and lamented days of the ancient regime. suddenly, even while the priest was lifting his hands, and all conscious heads were bowed in reverent expectation of the coming blessing, there appeared under the arch of the far-off door at the bottom of the hall an old and bent and white-haired lady, leaning upon a crutch-stick; and she lifted the stick and pointed it toward the queen and cried out: "the wrath and curse of god fall upon you, woman without pity, who have slain mine innocent grandchild and made desolate this old heart that had nor chick, nor friend nor stay nor comfort in all this world but him!" everybody crossed himself in a grisly fright, for a curse was an awful thing to those people; but the queen rose up majestic, with the death-light in her eye, and flung back this ruthless command: "lay hands on her! to the stake with her!" the guards left their posts to obey. it was a shame; it was a cruel thing to see. what could be done? sandy gave me a look; i knew she had another inspiration. i said: "do what you choose." she was up and facing toward the queen in a moment. she indicated me, and said: "madame, _he_ saith this may not be. recall the commandment, or he will dissolve the castle and it shall vanish away like the instable fabric of a dream!" confound it, what a crazy contract to pledge a person to! what if the queen-but my consternation subsided there, and my panic passed off; for the queen, all in a collapse, made no show of resistance but gave a countermanding sign and sunk into her seat. when she reached it she was sober. so were many of the others. the assemblage rose, whiffed ceremony to the winds, and rushed for the door like a mob; overturning chairs, smashing crockery, tugging, struggling, shouldering, crowding--anything to get out before i should change my mind and puff the castle into the measureless dim vacancies of space. well, well, well, they _were_ a superstitious lot. it is all a body can do to conceive of it. the poor queen was so scared and humbled that she was even afraid to hang the composer without first consulting me. i was very sorry for her--indeed, any one would have been, for she was really suffering; so i was willing to do anything that was reasonable, and had no desire to carry things to wanton extremities. i therefore considered the matter thoughtfully, and ended by having the musicians ordered into our presence to play that sweet bye and bye again, which they did. then i saw that she was right, and gave her permission to hang the whole band. this little relaxation of sternness had a good effect upon the queen. a statesman gains little by the arbitrary exercise of iron-clad authority upon all occasions that offer, for this wounds the just pride of his subordinates, and thus tends to undermine his strength. a little concession, now and then, where it can do no harm, is the wiser policy. now that the queen was at ease in her mind once more, and measurably happy, her wine naturally began to assert itself again, and it got a little the start of her. i mean it set her music going--her silver bell of a tongue. dear me, she was a master talker. it would not become me to suggest that it was pretty late and that i was a tired man and very sleepy. i wished i had gone off to bed when i had the chance. now i must stick it out; there was no other way. so she tinkled along and along, in the otherwise profound and ghostly hush of the sleeping castle, until by and by there came, as if from deep down under us, a far-away sound, as of a muffled shriek --with an expression of agony about it that made my flesh crawl. the queen stopped, and her eyes lighted with pleasure; she tilted her graceful head as a bird does when it listens. the sound bored its way up through the stillness again. "what is it?" i said. "it is truly a stubborn soul, and endureth long. it is many hours now." "endureth what?" "the rack. come--ye shall see a blithe sight. an he yield not his secret now, ye shall see him torn asunder." what a silky smooth hellion she was; and so composed and serene, when the cords all down my legs were hurting in sympathy with that man's pain. conducted by mailed guards bearing flaring torches, we tramped along echoing corridors, and down stone stairways dank and dripping, and smelling of mould and ages of imprisoned night --a chill, uncanny journey and a long one, and not made the shorter or the cheerier by the sorceress's talk, which was about this sufferer and his crime. he had been accused by an anonymous informer, of having killed a stag in the royal preserves. i said: "anonymous testimony isn't just the right thing, your highness. it were fairer to confront the accused with the accuser." "i had not thought of that, it being but of small consequence. but an i would, i could not, for that the accuser came masked by night, and told the forester, and straightway got him hence again, and so the forester knoweth him not." "then is this unknown the only person who saw the stag killed?" "marry, _no_ man _saw_ the killing, but this unknown saw this hardy wretch near to the spot where the stag lay, and came with right loyal zeal and betrayed him to the forester." "so the unknown was near the dead stag, too? isn't it just possible that he did the killing himself? his loyal zeal--in a mask--looks just a shade suspicious. but what is your highness's idea for racking the prisoner? where is the profit?" "he will not confess, else; and then were his soul lost. for his crime his life is forfeited by the law--and of a surety will i see that he payeth it!--but it were peril to my own soul to let him die unconfessed and unabsolved. nay, i were a fool to fling me into hell for _his_ accommodation." "but, your highness, suppose he has nothing to confess?" "as to that, we shall see, anon. an i rack him to death and he confess not, it will peradventure show that he had indeed naught to confess--ye will grant that that is sooth? then shall i not be damned for an unconfessed man that had naught to confess --wherefore, i shall be safe." it was the stubborn unreasoning of the time. it was useless to argue with her. arguments have no chance against petrified training; they wear it as little as the waves wear a cliff. and her training was everybody's. the brightest intellect in the land would not have been able to see that her position was defective. as we entered the rack-cell i caught a picture that will not go from me; i wish it would. a native young giant of thirty or thereabouts lay stretched upon the frame on his back, with his wrists and ankles tied to ropes which led over windlasses at either end. there was no color in him; his features were contorted and set, and sweat-drops stood upon his forehead. a priest bent over him on each side; the executioner stood by; guards were on duty; smoking torches stood in sockets along the walls; in a corner crouched a poor young creature, her face drawn with anguish, a half-wild and hunted look in her eyes, and in her lap lay a little child asleep. just as we stepped across the threshold the executioner gave his machine a slight turn, which wrung a cry from both the prisoner and the woman; but i shouted, and the executioner released the strain without waiting to see who spoke. i could not let this horror go on; it would have killed me to see it. i asked the queen to let me clear the place and speak to the prisoner privately; and when she was going to object i spoke in a low voice and said i did not want to make a scene before her servants, but i must have my way; for i was king arthur's representative, and was speaking in his name. she saw she had to yield. i asked her to indorse me to these people, and then leave me. it was not pleasant for her, but she took the pill; and even went further than i was meaning to require. i only wanted the backing of her own authority; but she said: "ye will do in all things as this lord shall command. it is the boss." it was certainly a good word to conjure with: you could see it by the squirming of these rats. the queen's guards fell into line, and she and they marched away, with their torch-bearers, and woke the echoes of the cavernous tunnels with the measured beat of their retreating footfalls. i had the prisoner taken from the rack and placed upon his bed, and medicaments applied to his hurts, and wine given him to drink. the woman crept near and looked on, eagerly, lovingly, but timorously,--like one who fears a repulse; indeed, she tried furtively to touch the man's forehead, and jumped back, the picture of fright, when i turned unconsciously toward her. it was pitiful to see. "lord," i said, "stroke him, lass, if you want to. do anything you're a mind to; don't mind me." why, her eyes were as grateful as an animal's, when you do it a kindness that it understands. the baby was out of her way and she had her cheek against the man's in a minute and her hands fondling his hair, and her happy tears running down. the man revived and caressed his wife with his eyes, which was all he could do. i judged i might clear the den, now, and i did; cleared it of all but the family and myself. then i said: "now, my friend, tell me your side of this matter; i know the other side." the man moved his head in sign of refusal. but the woman looked pleased--as it seemed to me--pleased with my suggestion. i went on-"you know of me?" "yes. all do, in arthur's realms." "if my reputation has come to you right and straight, you should not be afraid to speak." the woman broke in, eagerly: "ah, fair my lord, do thou persuade him! thou canst an thou wilt. ah, he suffereth so; and it is for me--for _me_! and how can i bear it? i would i might see him die--a sweet, swift death; oh, my hugo, i cannot bear this one!" and she fell to sobbing and grovelling about my feet, and still imploring. imploring what? the man's death? i could not quite get the bearings of the thing. but hugo interrupted her and said: "peace! ye wit not what ye ask. shall i starve whom i love, to win a gentle death? i wend thou knewest me better." "well," i said, "i can't quite make this out. it is a puzzle. now--" "ah, dear my lord, an ye will but persuade him! consider how these his tortures wound me! oh, and he will not speak!--whereas, the healing, the solace that lie in a blessed swift death--" "what _are_ you maundering about? he's going out from here a free man and whole--he's not going to die." the man's white face lit up, and the woman flung herself at me in a most surprising explosion of joy, and cried out: "he is saved!--for it is the king's word by the mouth of the king's servant--arthur, the king whose word is gold!" "well, then you do believe i can be trusted, after all. why didn't you before?" "who doubted? not i, indeed; and not she." "well, why wouldn't you tell me your story, then?" "ye had made no promise; else had it been otherwise." "i see, i see.... and yet i believe i don't quite see, after all. you stood the torture and refused to confess; which shows plain enough to even the dullest understanding that you had nothing to confess--" "i, my lord? how so? it was i that killed the deer!" "you _did_? oh, dear, this is the most mixed-up business that ever--" "dear lord, i begged him on my knees to confess, but--" "you _did_! it gets thicker and thicker. what did you want him to do that for?" "sith it would bring him a quick death and save him all this cruel pain." "well--yes, there is reason in that. but _he_ didn't want the quick death." "he? why, of a surety he _did_." "well, then, why in the world _didn't_ he confess?" "ah, sweet sir, and leave my wife and chick without bread and shelter?" "oh, heart of gold, now i see it! the bitter law takes the convicted man's estate and beggars his widow and his orphans. they could torture you to death, but without conviction or confession they could not rob your wife and baby. you stood by them like a man; and _you_--true wife and the woman that you are--you would have bought him release from torture at cost to yourself of slow starvation and death--well, it humbles a body to think what your sex can do when it comes to self-sacrifice. i'll book you both for my colony; you'll like it there; it's a factory where i'm going to turn groping and grubbing automata into _men_." chapter xviii in the queen's dungeons well, i arranged all that; and i had the man sent to his home. i had a great desire to rack the executioner; not because he was a good, painstaking and paingiving official,--for surely it was not to his discredit that he performed his functions well--but to pay him back for wantonly cuffing and otherwise distressing that young woman. the priests told me about this, and were generously hot to have him punished. something of this disagreeable sort was turning up every now and then. i mean, episodes that showed that not all priests were frauds and self-seekers, but that many, even the great majority, of these that were down on the ground among the common people, were sincere and right-hearted, and devoted to the alleviation of human troubles and sufferings. well, it was a thing which could not be helped, so i seldom fretted about it, and never many minutes at a time; it has never been my way to bother much about things which you can't cure. but i did not like it, for it was just the sort of thing to keep people reconciled to an established church. we _must_ have a religion --it goes without saying--but my idea is, to have it cut up into forty free sects, so that they will police each other, as had been the case in the united states in my time. concentration of power in a political machine is bad; and and an established church is only a political machine; it was invented for that; it is nursed, cradled, preserved for that; it is an enemy to human liberty, and does no good which it could not better do in a split-up and scattered condition. that wasn't law; it wasn't gospel: it was only an opinion--my opinion, and i was only a man, one man: so it wasn't worth any more than the pope's--or any less, for that matter. well, i couldn't rack the executioner, neither would i overlook the just complaint of the priests. the man must be punished somehow or other, so i degraded him from his office and made him leader of the band--the new one that was to be started. he begged hard, and said he couldn't play--a plausible excuse, but too thin; there wasn't a musician in the country that could. the queen was a good deal outraged, next morning when she found she was going to have neither hugo's life nor his property. but i told her she must bear this cross; that while by law and custom she certainly was entitled to both the man's life and his property, there were extenuating circumstances, and so in arthur the king's name i had pardoned him. the deer was ravaging the man's fields, and he had killed it in sudden passion, and not for gain; and he had carried it into the royal forest in the hope that that might make detection of the misdoer impossible. confound her, i couldn't make her see that sudden passion is an extenuating circumstance in the killing of venison--or of a person--so i gave it up and let her sulk it out. i _did_ think i was going to make her see it by remarking that her own sudden passion in the case of the page modified that crime. "crime!" she exclaimed. "how thou talkest! crime, forsooth! man, i am going to _pay_ for him!" oh, it was no use to waste sense on her. training--training is everything; training is all there is _to_ a person. we speak of nature; it is folly; there is no such thing as nature; what we call by that misleading name is merely heredity and training. we have no thoughts of our own, no opinions of our own; they are transmitted to us, trained into us. all that is original in us, and therefore fairly creditable or discreditable to us, can be covered up and hidden by the point of a cambric needle, all the rest being atoms contributed by, and inherited from, a procession of ancestors that stretches back a billion years to the adam-clam or grasshopper or monkey from whom our race has been so tediously and ostentatiously and unprofitably developed. and as for me, all that i think about in this plodding sad pilgrimage, this pathetic drift between the eternities, is to look out and humbly live a pure and high and blameless life, and save that one microscopic atom in me that is truly _me_: the rest may land in sheol and welcome for all i care. no, confound her, her intellect was good, she had brains enough, but her training made her an ass--that is, from a many-centuries-later point of view. to kill the page was no crime--it was her right; and upon her right she stood, serenely and unconscious of offense. she was a result of generations of training in the unexamined and unassailed belief that the law which permitted her to kill a subject when she chose was a perfectly right and righteous one. well, we must give even satan his due. she deserved a compliment for one thing; and i tried to pay it, but the words stuck in my throat. she had a right to kill the boy, but she was in no wise obliged to pay for him. that was law for some other people, but not for her. she knew quite well that she was doing a large and generous thing to pay for that lad, and that i ought in common fairness to come out with something handsome about it, but i couldn't--my mouth refused. i couldn't help seeing, in my fancy, that poor old grandma with the broken heart, and that fair young creature lying butchered, his little silken pomps and vanities laced with his golden blood. how could she _pay_ for him! _whom_ could she pay? and so, well knowing that this woman, trained as she had been, deserved praise, even adulation, i was yet not able to utter it, trained as i had been. the best i could do was to fish up a compliment from outside, so to speak--and the pity of it was, that it was true: "madame, your people will adore you for this." quite true, but i meant to hang her for it some day if i lived. some of those laws were too bad, altogether too bad. a master might kill his slave for nothing--for mere spite, malice, or to pass the time--just as we have seen that the crowned head could do it with _his_ slave, that is to say, anybody. a gentleman could kill a free commoner, and pay for him--cash or garden-truck. a noble could kill a noble without expense, as far as the law was concerned, but reprisals in kind were to be expected. _any_body could kill _some_body, except the commoner and the slave; these had no privileges. if they killed, it was murder, and the law wouldn't stand murder. it made short work of the experimenter--and of his family, too, if he murdered somebody who belonged up among the ornamental ranks. if a commoner gave a noble even so much as a damiens-scratch which didn't kill or even hurt, he got damiens' dose for it just the same; they pulled him to rags and tatters with horses, and all the world came to see the show, and crack jokes, and have a good time; and some of the performances of the best people present were as tough, and as properly unprintable, as any that have been printed by the pleasant casanova in his chapter about the dismemberment of louis xv's poor awkward enemy. i had had enough of this grisly place by this time, and wanted to leave, but i couldn't, because i had something on my mind that my conscience kept prodding me about, and wouldn't let me forget. if i had the remaking of man, he wouldn't have any conscience. it is one of the most disagreeable things connected with a person; and although it certainly does a great deal of good, it cannot be said to pay, in the long run; it would be much better to have less good and more comfort. still, this is only my opinion, and i am only one man; others, with less experience, may think differently. they have a right to their view. i only stand to this: i have noticed my conscience for many years, and i know it is more trouble and bother to me than anything else i started with. i suppose that in the beginning i prized it, because we prize anything that is ours; and yet how foolish it was to think so. if we look at it in another way, we see how absurd it is: if i had an anvil in me would i prize it? of course not. and yet when you come to think, there is no real difference between a conscience and an anvil--i mean for comfort. i have noticed it a thousand times. and you could dissolve an anvil with acids, when you couldn't stand it any longer; but there isn't any way that you can work off a conscience--at least so it will stay worked off; not that i know of, anyway. there was something i wanted to do before leaving, but it was a disagreeable matter, and i hated to go at it. well, it bothered me all the morning. i could have mentioned it to the old king, but what would be the use?--he was but an extinct volcano; he had been active in his time, but his fire was out, this good while, he was only a stately ash-pile now; gentle enough, and kindly enough for my purpose, without doubt, but not usable. he was nothing, this so-called king: the queen was the only power there. and she was a vesuvius. as a favor, she might consent to warm a flock of sparrows for you, but then she might take that very opportunity to turn herself loose and bury a city. however, i reflected that as often as any other way, when you are expecting the worst, you get something that is not so bad, after all. so i braced up and placed my matter before her royal highness. i said i had been having a general jail-delivery at camelot and among neighboring castles, and with her permission i would like to examine her collection, her bric-a-brac--that is to say, her prisoners. she resisted; but i was expecting that. but she finally consented. i was expecting that, too, but not so soon. that about ended my discomfort. she called her guards and torches, and we went down into the dungeons. these were down under the castle's foundations, and mainly were small cells hollowed out of the living rock. some of these cells had no light at all. in one of them was a woman, in foul rags, who sat on the ground, and would not answer a question or speak a word, but only looked up at us once or twice, through a cobweb of tangled hair, as if to see what casual thing it might be that was disturbing with sound and light the meaningless dull dream that was become her life; after that, she sat bowed, with her dirt-caked fingers idly interlocked in her lap, and gave no further sign. this poor rack of bones was a woman of middle age, apparently; but only apparently; she had been there nine years, and was eighteen when she entered. she was a commoner, and had been sent here on her bridal night by sir breuse sance pite, a neighboring lord whose vassal her father was, and to which said lord she had refused what has since been called le droit du seigneur, and, moreover, had opposed violence to violence and spilt half a gill of his almost sacred blood. the young husband had interfered at that point, believing the bride's life in danger, and had flung the noble out into the midst of the humble and trembling wedding guests, in the parlor, and left him there astonished at this strange treatment, and implacably embittered against both bride and groom. the said lord being cramped for dungeon-room had asked the queen to accommodate his two criminals, and here in her bastile they had been ever since; hither, indeed, they had come before their crime was an hour old, and had never seen each other since. here they were, kenneled like toads in the same rock; they had passed nine pitch dark years within fifty feet of each other, yet neither knew whether the other was alive or not. all the first years, their only question had been--asked with beseechings and tears that might have moved stones, in time, perhaps, but hearts are not stones: "is he alive?" "is she alive?" but they had never got an answer; and at last that question was not asked any more--or any other. i wanted to see the man, after hearing all this. he was thirty-four years old, and looked sixty. he sat upon a squared block of stone, with his head bent down, his forearms resting on his knees, his long hair hanging like a fringe before his face, and he was muttering to himself. he raised his chin and looked us slowly over, in a listless dull way, blinking with the distress of the torchlight, then dropped his head and fell to muttering again and took no further notice of us. there were some pathetically suggestive dumb witnesses present. on his wrists and ankles were cicatrices, old smooth scars, and fastened to the stone on which he sat was a chain with manacles and fetters attached; but this apparatus lay idle on the ground, and was thick with rust. chains cease to be needed after the spirit has gone out of a prisoner. i could not rouse the man; so i said we would take him to her, and see--to the bride who was the fairest thing in the earth to him, once--roses, pearls, and dew made flesh, for him; a wonder-work, the master-work of nature: with eyes like no other eyes, and voice like no other voice, and a freshness, and lithe young grace, and beauty, that belonged properly to the creatures of dreams--as he thought--and to no other. the sight of her would set his stagnant blood leaping; the sight of her-but it was a disappointment. they sat together on the ground and looked dimly wondering into each other's faces a while, with a sort of weak animal curiosity; then forgot each other's presence, and dropped their eyes, and you saw that they were away again and wandering in some far land of dreams and shadows that we know nothing about. i had them taken out and sent to their friends. the queen did not like it much. not that she felt any personal interest in the matter, but she thought it disrespectful to sir breuse sance pite. however, i assured her that if he found he couldn't stand it i would fix him so that he could. i set forty-seven prisoners loose out of those awful rat-holes, and left only one in captivity. he was a lord, and had killed another lord, a sort of kinsman of the queen. that other lord had ambushed him to assassinate him, but this fellow had got the best of him and cut his throat. however, it was not for that that i left him jailed, but for maliciously destroying the only public well in one of his wretched villages. the queen was bound to hang him for killing her kinsman, but i would not allow it: it was no crime to kill an assassin. but i said i was willing to let her hang him for destroying the well; so she concluded to put up with that, as it was better than nothing. dear me, for what trifling offenses the most of those forty-seven men and women were shut up there! indeed, some were there for no distinct offense at all, but only to gratify somebody's spite; and not always the queen's by any means, but a friend's. the newest prisoner's crime was a mere remark which he had made. he said he believed that men were about all alike, and one man as good as another, barring clothes. he said he believed that if you were to strip the nation naked and send a stranger through the crowd, he couldn't tell the king from a quack doctor, nor a duke from a hotel clerk. apparently here was a man whose brains had not been reduced to an ineffectual mush by idiotic training. i set him loose and sent him to the factory. some of the cells carved in the living rock were just behind the face of the precipice, and in each of these an arrow-slit had been pierced outward to the daylight, and so the captive had a thin ray from the blessed sun for his comfort. the case of one of these poor fellows was particularly hard. from his dusky swallow's hole high up in that vast wall of native rock he could peer out through the arrow-slit and see his own home off yonder in the valley; and for twenty-two years he had watched it, with heartache and longing, through that crack. he could see the lights shine there at night, and in the daytime he could see figures go in and come out--his wife and children, some of them, no doubt, though he could not make out at that distance. in the course of years he noted festivities there, and tried to rejoice, and wondered if they were weddings or what they might be. and he noted funerals; and they wrung his heart. he could make out the coffin, but he could not determine its size, and so could not tell whether it was wife or child. he could see the procession form, with priests and mourners, and move solemnly away, bearing the secret with them. he had left behind him five children and a wife; and in nineteen years he had seen five funerals issue, and none of them humble enough in pomp to denote a servant. so he had lost five of his treasures; there must still be one remaining--one now infinitely, unspeakably precious,--but _which_ one? wife, or child? that was the question that tortured him, by night and by day, asleep and awake. well, to have an interest, of some sort, and half a ray of light, when you are in a dungeon, is a great support to the body and preserver of the intellect. this man was in pretty good condition yet. by the time he had finished telling me his distressful tale, i was in the same state of mind that you would have been in yourself, if you have got average human curiosity; that is to say, i was as burning up as he was to find out which member of the family it was that was left. so i took him over home myself; and an amazing kind of a surprise party it was, too --typhoons and cyclones of frantic joy, and whole niagaras of happy tears; and by george! we found the aforetime young matron graying toward the imminent verge of her half century, and the babies all men and women, and some of them married and experimenting familywise themselves--for not a soul of the tribe was dead! conceive of the ingenious devilishness of that queen: she had a special hatred for this prisoner, and she had _invented_ all those funerals herself, to scorch his heart with; and the sublimest stroke of genius of the whole thing was leaving the family-invoice a funeral _short_, so as to let him wear his poor old soul out guessing. but for me, he never would have got out. morgan le fay hated him with her whole heart, and she never would have softened toward him. and yet his crime was committed more in thoughtlessness than deliberate depravity. he had said she had red hair. well, she had; but that was no way to speak of it. when red-headed people are above a certain social grade their hair is auburn. consider it: among these forty-seven captives there were five whose names, offenses, and dates of incarceration were no longer known! one woman and four men--all bent, and wrinkled, and mind-extinguished patriarchs. they themselves had long ago forgotten these details; at any rate they had mere vague theories about them, nothing definite and nothing that they repeated twice in the same way. the succession of priests whose office it had been to pray daily with the captives and remind them that god had put them there, for some wise purpose or other, and teach them that patience, humbleness, and submission to oppression was what he loved to see in parties of a subordinate rank, had traditions about these poor old human ruins, but nothing more. these traditions went but little way, for they concerned the length of the incarceration only, and not the names of the offenses. and even by the help of tradition the only thing that could be proven was that none of the five had seen daylight for thirty-five years: how much longer this privation has lasted was not guessable. the king and the queen knew nothing about these poor creatures, except that they were heirlooms, assets inherited, along with the throne, from the former firm. nothing of their history had been transmitted with their persons, and so the inheriting owners had considered them of no value, and had felt no interest in them. i said to the queen: "then why in the world didn't you set them free?" the question was a puzzler. she didn't know _why_ she hadn't, the thing had never come up in her mind. so here she was, forecasting the veritable history of future prisoners of the castle d'if, without knowing it. it seemed plain to me now, that with her training, those inherited prisoners were merely property--nothing more, nothing less. well, when we inherit property, it does not occur to us to throw it away, even when we do not value it. when i brought my procession of human bats up into the open world and the glare of the afternoon sun--previously blindfolding them, in charity for eyes so long untortured by light--they were a spectacle to look at. skeletons, scarecrows, goblins, pathetic frights, every one; legitimatest possible children of monarchy by the grace of god and the established church. i muttered absently: "i _wish_ i could photograph them!" you have seen that kind of people who will never let on that they don't know the meaning of a new big word. the more ignorant they are, the more pitifully certain they are to pretend you haven't shot over their heads. the queen was just one of that sort, and was always making the stupidest blunders by reason of it. she hesitated a moment; then her face brightened up with sudden comprehension, and she said she would do it for me. i thought to myself: she? why what can she know about photography? but it was a poor time to be thinking. when i looked around, she was moving on the procession with an axe! well, she certainly was a curious one, was morgan le fay. i have seen a good many kinds of women in my time, but she laid over them all for variety. and how sharply characteristic of her this episode was. she had no more idea than a horse of how to photograph a procession; but being in doubt, it was just like her to try to do it with an axe. chapter xix knight-errantry as a trade sandy and i were on the road again, next morning, bright and early. it was so good to open up one's lungs and take in whole luscious barrels-ful of the blessed god's untainted, dew-fashioned, woodland-scented air once more, after suffocating body and mind for two days and nights in the moral and physical stenches of that intolerable old buzzard-roost! i mean, for me: of course the place was all right and agreeable enough for sandy, for she had been used to high life all her days. poor girl, her jaws had had a wearisome rest now for a while, and i was expecting to get the consequences. i was right; but she had stood by me most helpfully in the castle, and had mightily supported and reinforced me with gigantic foolishnesses which were worth more for the occasion than wisdoms double their size; so i thought she had earned a right to work her mill for a while, if she wanted to, and i felt not a pang when she started it up: "now turn we unto sir marhaus that rode with the damsel of thirty winter of age southward--" "are you going to see if you can work up another half-stretch on the trail of the cowboys, sandy?" "even so, fair my lord." "go ahead, then. i won't interrupt this time, if i can help it. begin over again; start fair, and shake out all your reefs, and i will load my pipe and give good attention." "now turn we unto sir marhaus that rode with the damsel of thirty winter of age southward. and so they came into a deep forest, and by fortune they were nighted, and rode along in a deep way, and at the last they came into a courtelage where abode the duke of south marches, and there they asked harbour. and on the morn the duke sent unto sir marhaus, and bad him make him ready. and so sir marhaus arose and armed him, and there was a mass sung afore him, and he brake his fast, and so mounted on horseback in the court of the castle, there they should do the battle. so there was the duke already on horseback, clean armed, and his six sons by him, and every each had a spear in his hand, and so they encountered, whereas the duke and his two sons brake their spears upon him, but sir marhaus held up his spear and touched none of them. then came the four sons by couples, and two of them brake their spears, and so did the other two. and all this while sir marhaus touched them not. then sir marhaus ran to the duke, and smote him with his spear that horse and man fell to the earth. and so he served his sons. and then sir marhaus alight down, and bad the duke yield him or else he would slay him. and then some of his sons recovered, and would have set upon sir marhaus. then sir marhaus said to the duke, cease thy sons, or else i will do the uttermost to you all. when the duke saw he might not escape the death, he cried to his sons, and charged them to yield them to sir marhaus. and they kneeled all down and put the pommels of their swords to the knight, and so he received them. and then they holp up their father, and so by their common assent promised unto sir marhaus never to be foes unto king arthur, and thereupon at whitsuntide after, to come he and his sons, and put them in the king's grace.* [*footnote: the story is borrowed, language and all, from the morte d'arthur.--m.t.] "even so standeth the history, fair sir boss. now ye shall wit that that very duke and his six sons are they whom but few days past you also did overcome and send to arthur's court!" "why, sandy, you can't mean it!" "an i speak not sooth, let it be the worse for me." "well, well, well,--now who would ever have thought it? one whole duke and six dukelets; why, sandy, it was an elegant haul. knight-errantry is a most chuckle-headed trade, and it is tedious hard work, too, but i begin to see that there _is_ money in it, after all, if you have luck. not that i would ever engage in it as a business, for i wouldn't. no sound and legitimate business can be established on a basis of speculation. a successful whirl in the knight-errantry line--now what is it when you blow away the nonsense and come down to the cold facts? it's just a corner in pork, that's all, and you can't make anything else out of it. you're rich--yes,--suddenly rich--for about a day, maybe a week; then somebody corners the market on _you_, and down goes your bucket-shop; ain't that so, sandy?" "whethersoever it be that my mind miscarrieth, bewraying simple language in such sort that the words do seem to come endlong and overthwart--" "there's no use in beating about the bush and trying to get around it that way, sandy, it's _so_, just as i say. i _know_ it's so. and, moreover, when you come right down to the bedrock, knight-errantry is _worse_ than pork; for whatever happens, the pork's left, and so somebody's benefited anyway; but when the market breaks, in a knight-errantry whirl, and every knight in the pool passes in his checks, what have you got for assets? just a rubbish-pile of battered corpses and a barrel or two of busted hardware. can you call _those_ assets? give me pork, every time. am i right?" "ah, peradventure my head being distraught by the manifold matters whereunto the confusions of these but late adventured haps and fortunings whereby not i alone nor you alone, but every each of us, meseemeth--" "no, it's not your head, sandy. your head's all right, as far as it goes, but you don't know business; that's where the trouble is. it unfits you to argue about business, and you're wrong to be always trying. however, that aside, it was a good haul, anyway, and will breed a handsome crop of reputation in arthur's court. and speaking of the cowboys, what a curious country this is for women and men that never get old. now there's morgan le fay, as fresh and young as a vassar pullet, to all appearances, and here is this old duke of the south marches still slashing away with sword and lance at his time of life, after raising such a family as he has raised. as i understand it, sir gawaine killed seven of his sons, and still he had six left for sir marhaus and me to take into camp. and then there was that damsel of sixty winter of age still excursioning around in her frosty bloom--how old are you, sandy?" it was the first time i ever struck a still place in her. the mill had shut down for repairs, or something. chapter xx the ogre's castle between six and nine we made ten miles, which was plenty for a horse carrying triple--man, woman, and armor; then we stopped for a long nooning under some trees by a limpid brook. right so came by and by a knight riding; and as he drew near he made dolorous moan, and by the words of it i perceived that he was cursing and swearing; yet nevertheless was i glad of his coming, for that i saw he bore a bulletin-board whereon in letters all of shining gold was writ: "use peterson's prophylactic tooth-brush--all the go." i was glad of his coming, for even by this token i knew him for knight of mine. it was sir madok de la montaine, a burly great fellow whose chief distinction was that he had come within an ace of sending sir launcelot down over his horse-tail once. he was never long in a stranger's presence without finding some pretext or other to let out that great fact. but there was another fact of nearly the same size, which he never pushed upon anybody unasked, and yet never withheld when asked: that was, that the reason he didn't quite succeed was, that he was interrupted and sent down over horse-tail himself. this innocent vast lubber did not see any particular difference between the two facts. i liked him, for he was earnest in his work, and very valuable. and he was so fine to look at, with his broad mailed shoulders, and the grand leonine set of his plumed head, and his big shield with its quaint device of a gauntleted hand clutching a prophylactic tooth-brush, with motto: "try noyoudont." this was a tooth-wash that i was introducing. he was aweary, he said, and indeed he looked it; but he would not alight. he said he was after the stove-polish man; and with this he broke out cursing and swearing anew. the bulletin-boarder referred to was sir ossaise of surluse, a brave knight, and of considerable celebrity on account of his having tried conclusions in a tournament once, with no less a mogul than sir gaheris himself--although not successfully. he was of a light and laughing disposition, and to him nothing in this world was serious. it was for this reason that i had chosen him to work up a stove-polish sentiment. there were no stoves yet, and so there could be nothing serious about stove-polish. all that the agent needed to do was to deftly and by degrees prepare the public for the great change, and have them established in predilections toward neatness against the time when the stove should appear upon the stage. sir madok was very bitter, and brake out anew with cursings. he said he had cursed his soul to rags; and yet he would not get down from his horse, neither would he take any rest, or listen to any comfort, until he should have found sir ossaise and settled this account. it appeared, by what i could piece together of the unprofane fragments of his statement, that he had chanced upon sir ossaise at dawn of the morning, and been told that if he would make a short cut across the fields and swamps and broken hills and glades, he could head off a company of travelers who would be rare customers for prophylactics and tooth-wash. with characteristic zeal sir madok had plunged away at once upon this quest, and after three hours of awful crosslot riding had overhauled his game. and behold, it was the five patriarchs that had been released from the dungeons the evening before! poor old creatures, it was all of twenty years since any one of them had known what it was to be equipped with any remaining snag or remnant of a tooth. "blank-blank-blank him," said sir madok, "an i do not stove-polish him an i may find him, leave it to me; for never no knight that hight ossaise or aught else may do me this disservice and bide on live, an i may find him, the which i have thereunto sworn a great oath this day." and with these words and others, he lightly took his spear and gat him thence. in the middle of the afternoon we came upon one of those very patriarchs ourselves, in the edge of a poor village. he was basking in the love of relatives and friends whom he had not seen for fifty years; and about him and caressing him were also descendants of his own body whom he had never seen at all till now; but to him these were all strangers, his memory was gone, his mind was stagnant. it seemed incredible that a man could outlast half a century shut up in a dark hole like a rat, but here were his old wife and some old comrades to testify to it. they could remember him as he was in the freshness and strength of his young manhood, when he kissed his child and delivered it to its mother's hands and went away into that long oblivion. the people at the castle could not tell within half a generation the length of time the man had been shut up there for his unrecorded and forgotten offense; but this old wife knew; and so did her old child, who stood there among her married sons and daughters trying to realize a father who had been to her a name, a thought, a formless image, a tradition, all her life, and now was suddenly concreted into actual flesh and blood and set before her face. it was a curious situation; yet it is not on that account that i have made room for it here, but on account of a thing which seemed to me still more curious. to wit, that this dreadful matter brought from these downtrodden people no outburst of rage against these oppressors. they had been heritors and subjects of cruelty and outrage so long that nothing could have startled them but a kindness. yes, here was a curious revelation, indeed, of the depth to which this people had been sunk in slavery. their entire being was reduced to a monotonous dead level of patience, resignation, dumb uncomplaining acceptance of whatever might befall them in this life. their very imagination was dead. when you can say that of a man, he has struck bottom, i reckon; there is no lower deep for him. i rather wished i had gone some other road. this was not the sort of experience for a statesman to encounter who was planning out a peaceful revolution in his mind. for it could not help bringing up the unget-aroundable fact that, all gentle cant and philosophizing to the contrary notwithstanding, no people in the world ever did achieve their freedom by goody-goody talk and moral suasion: it being immutable law that all revolutions that will succeed must _begin_ in blood, whatever may answer afterward. if history teaches anything, it teaches that. what this folk needed, then, was a reign of terror and a guillotine, and i was the wrong man for them. two days later, toward noon, sandy began to show signs of excitement and feverish expectancy. she said we were approaching the ogre's castle. i was surprised into an uncomfortable shock. the object of our quest had gradually dropped out of my mind; this sudden resurrection of it made it seem quite a real and startling thing for a moment, and roused up in me a smart interest. sandy's excitement increased every moment; and so did mine, for that sort of thing is catching. my heart got to thumping. you can't reason with your heart; it has its own laws, and thumps about things which the intellect scorns. presently, when sandy slid from the horse, motioned me to stop, and went creeping stealthily, with her head bent nearly to her knees, toward a row of bushes that bordered a declivity, the thumpings grew stronger and quicker. and they kept it up while she was gaining her ambush and getting her glimpse over the declivity; and also while i was creeping to her side on my knees. her eyes were burning now, as she pointed with her finger, and said in a panting whisper: "the castle! the castle! lo, where it looms!" what a welcome disappointment i experienced! i said: "castle? it is nothing but a pigsty; a pigsty with a wattled fence around it." she looked surprised and distressed. the animation faded out of her face; and during many moments she was lost in thought and silent. then: "it was not enchanted aforetime," she said in a musing fashion, as if to herself. "and how strange is this marvel, and how awful --that to the one perception it is enchanted and dight in a base and shameful aspect; yet to the perception of the other it is not enchanted, hath suffered no change, but stands firm and stately still, girt with its moat and waving its banners in the blue air from its towers. and god shield us, how it pricks the heart to see again these gracious captives, and the sorrow deepened in their sweet faces! we have tarried along, and are to blame." i saw my cue. the castle was enchanted to _me_, not to her. it would be wasted time to try to argue her out of her delusion, it couldn't be done; i must just humor it. so i said: "this is a common case--the enchanting of a thing to one eye and leaving it in its proper form to another. you have heard of it before, sandy, though you haven't happened to experience it. but no harm is done. in fact, it is lucky the way it is. if these ladies were hogs to everybody and to themselves, it would be necessary to break the enchantment, and that might be impossible if one failed to find out the particular process of the enchantment. and hazardous, too; for in attempting a disenchantment without the true key, you are liable to err, and turn your hogs into dogs, and the dogs into cats, the cats into rats, and so on, and end by reducing your materials to nothing finally, or to an odorless gas which you can't follow--which, of course, amounts to the same thing. but here, by good luck, no one's eyes but mine are under the enchantment, and so it is of no consequence to dissolve it. these ladies remain ladies to you, and to themselves, and to everybody else; and at the same time they will suffer in no way from my delusion, for when i know that an ostensible hog is a lady, that is enough for me, i know how to treat her." "thanks, oh, sweet my lord, thou talkest like an angel. and i know that thou wilt deliver them, for that thou art minded to great deeds and art as strong a knight of your hands and as brave to will and to do, as any that is on live." "i will not leave a princess in the sty, sandy. are those three yonder that to my disordered eyes are starveling swine-herds--" "the ogres, are _they_ changed also? it is most wonderful. now am i fearful; for how canst thou strike with sure aim when five of their nine cubits of stature are to thee invisible? ah, go warily, fair sir; this is a mightier emprise than i wend." "you be easy, sandy. all i need to know is, how _much_ of an ogre is invisible; then i know how to locate his vitals. don't you be afraid, i will make short work of these bunco-steerers. stay where you are." i left sandy kneeling there, corpse-faced but plucky and hopeful, and rode down to the pigsty, and struck up a trade with the swine-herds. i won their gratitude by buying out all the hogs at the lump sum of sixteen pennies, which was rather above latest quotations. i was just in time; for the church, the lord of the manor, and the rest of the tax-gatherers would have been along next day and swept off pretty much all the stock, leaving the swine-herds very short of hogs and sandy out of princesses. but now the tax people could be paid in cash, and there would be a stake left besides. one of the men had ten children; and he said that last year when a priest came and of his ten pigs took the fattest one for tithes, the wife burst out upon him, and offered him a child and said: "thou beast without bowels of mercy, why leave me my child, yet rob me of the wherewithal to feed it?" how curious. the same thing had happened in the wales of my day, under this same old established church, which was supposed by many to have changed its nature when it changed its disguise. i sent the three men away, and then opened the sty gate and beckoned sandy to come--which she did; and not leisurely, but with the rush of a prairie fire. and when i saw her fling herself upon those hogs, with tears of joy running down her cheeks, and strain them to her heart, and kiss them, and caress them, and call them reverently by grand princely names, i was ashamed of her, ashamed of the human race. we had to drive those hogs home--ten miles; and no ladies were ever more fickle-minded or contrary. they would stay in no road, no path; they broke out through the brush on all sides, and flowed away in all directions, over rocks, and hills, and the roughest places they could find. and they must not be struck, or roughly accosted; sandy could not bear to see them treated in ways unbecoming their rank. the troublesomest old sow of the lot had to be called my lady, and your highness, like the rest. it is annoying and difficult to scour around after hogs, in armor. there was one small countess, with an iron ring in her snout and hardly any hair on her back, that was the devil for perversity. she gave me a race of an hour, over all sorts of country, and then we were right where we had started from, having made not a rod of real progress. i seized her at last by the tail, and brought her along squealing. when i overtook sandy she was horrified, and said it was in the last degree indelicate to drag a countess by her train. we got the hogs home just at dark--most of them. the princess nerovens de morganore was missing, and two of her ladies in waiting: namely, miss angela bohun, and the demoiselle elaine courtemains, the former of these two being a young black sow with a white star in her forehead, and the latter a brown one with thin legs and a slight limp in the forward shank on the starboard side--a couple of the tryingest blisters to drive that i ever saw. also among the missing were several mere baronesses--and i wanted them to stay missing; but no, all that sausage-meat had to be found; so servants were sent out with torches to scour the woods and hills to that end. of course, the whole drove was housed in the house, and, great guns!--well, i never saw anything like it. nor ever heard anything like it. and never smelt anything like it. it was like an insurrection in a gasometer. chapter xxi the pilgrims when i did get to bed at last i was unspeakably tired; the stretching out, and the relaxing of the long-tense muscles, how luxurious, how delicious! but that was as far as i could get--sleep was out of the question for the present. the ripping and tearing and squealing of the nobility up and down the halls and corridors was pandemonium come again, and kept me broad awake. being awake, my thoughts were busy, of course; and mainly they busied themselves with sandy's curious delusion. here she was, as sane a person as the kingdom could produce; and yet, from my point of view she was acting like a crazy woman. my land, the power of training! of influence! of education! it can bring a body up to believe anything. i had to put myself in sandy's place to realize that she was not a lunatic. yes, and put her in mine, to demonstrate how easy it is to seem a lunatic to a person who has not been taught as you have been taught. if i had told sandy i had seen a wagon, uninfluenced by enchantment, spin along fifty miles an hour; had seen a man, unequipped with magic powers, get into a basket and soar out of sight among the clouds; and had listened, without any necromancer's help, to the conversation of a person who was several hundred miles away, sandy would not merely have supposed me to be crazy, she would have thought she knew it. everybody around her believed in enchantments; nobody had any doubts; to doubt that a castle could be turned into a sty, and its occupants into hogs, would have been the same as my doubting among connecticut people the actuality of the telephone and its wonders,--and in both cases would be absolute proof of a diseased mind, an unsettled reason. yes, sandy was sane; that must be admitted. if i also would be sane--to sandy --i must keep my superstitions about unenchanted and unmiraculous locomotives, balloons, and telephones, to myself. also, i believed that the world was not flat, and hadn't pillars under it to support it, nor a canopy over it to turn off a universe of water that occupied all space above; but as i was the only person in the kingdom afflicted with such impious and criminal opinions, i recognized that it would be good wisdom to keep quiet about this matter, too, if i did not wish to be suddenly shunned and forsaken by everybody as a madman. the next morning sandy assembled the swine in the dining-room and gave them their breakfast, waiting upon them personally and manifesting in every way the deep reverence which the natives of her island, ancient and modern, have always felt for rank, let its outward casket and the mental and moral contents be what they may. i could have eaten with the hogs if i had had birth approaching my lofty official rank; but i hadn't, and so accepted the unavoidable slight and made no complaint. sandy and i had our breakfast at the second table. the family were not at home. i said: "how many are in the family, sandy, and where do they keep themselves?" "family?" "yes." "which family, good my lord?" "why, this family; your own family." "sooth to say, i understand you not. i have no family." "no family? why, sandy, isn't this your home?" "now how indeed might that be? i have no home." "well, then, whose house is this?" "ah, wit you well i would tell you an i knew myself." "come--you don't even know these people? then who invited us here?" "none invited us. we but came; that is all." "why, woman, this is a most extraordinary performance. the effrontery of it is beyond admiration. we blandly march into a man's house, and cram it full of the only really valuable nobility the sun has yet discovered in the earth, and then it turns out that we don't even know the man's name. how did you ever venture to take this extravagant liberty? i supposed, of course, it was your home. what will the man say?" "what will he say? forsooth what can he say but give thanks?" "thanks for what?" her face was filled with a puzzled surprise: "verily, thou troublest mine understanding with strange words. do ye dream that one of his estate is like to have the honor twice in his life to entertain company such as we have brought to grace his house withal?" "well, no--when you come to that. no, it's an even bet that this is the first time he has had a treat like this." "then let him be thankful, and manifest the same by grateful speech and due humility; he were a dog, else, and the heir and ancestor of dogs." to my mind, the situation was uncomfortable. it might become more so. it might be a good idea to muster the hogs and move on. so i said: "the day is wasting, sandy. it is time to get the nobility together and be moving." "wherefore, fair sir and boss?" "we want to take them to their home, don't we?" "la, but list to him! they be of all the regions of the earth! each must hie to her own home; wend you we might do all these journeys in one so brief life as he hath appointed that created life, and thereto death likewise with help of adam, who by sin done through persuasion of his helpmeet, she being wrought upon and bewrayed by the beguilements of the great enemy of man, that serpent hight satan, aforetime consecrated and set apart unto that evil work by overmastering spite and envy begotten in his heart through fell ambitions that did blight and mildew a nature erst so white and pure whenso it hove with the shining multitudes its brethren-born in glade and shade of that fair heaven wherein all such as native be to that rich estate and--" "great scott!" "my lord?" "well, you know we haven't got time for this sort of thing. don't you see, we could distribute these people around the earth in less time than it is going to take you to explain that we can't. we mustn't talk now, we must act. you want to be careful; you mustn't let your mill get the start of you that way, at a time like this. to business now--and sharp's the word. who is to take the aristocracy home?" "even their friends. these will come for them from the far parts of the earth." this was lightning from a clear sky, for unexpectedness; and the relief of it was like pardon to a prisoner. she would remain to deliver the goods, of course. "well, then, sandy, as our enterprise is handsomely and successfully ended, i will go home and report; and if ever another one--" "i also am ready; i will go with thee." this was recalling the pardon. "how? you will go with me? why should you?" "will i be traitor to my knight, dost think? that were dishonor. i may not part from thee until in knightly encounter in the field some overmatching champion shall fairly win and fairly wear me. i were to blame an i thought that that might ever hap." "elected for the long term," i sighed to myself. "i may as well make the best of it." so then i spoke up and said: "all right; let us make a start." while she was gone to cry her farewells over the pork, i gave that whole peerage away to the servants. and i asked them to take a duster and dust around a little where the nobilities had mainly lodged and promenaded; but they considered that that would be hardly worth while, and would moreover be a rather grave departure from custom, and therefore likely to make talk. a departure from custom--that settled it; it was a nation capable of committing any crime but that. the servants said they would follow the fashion, a fashion grown sacred through immemorial observance; they would scatter fresh rushes in all the rooms and halls, and then the evidence of the aristocratic visitation would be no longer visible. it was a kind of satire on nature: it was the scientific method, the geologic method; it deposited the history of the family in a stratified record; and the antiquary could dig through it and tell by the remains of each period what changes of diet the family had introduced successively for a hundred years. the first thing we struck that day was a procession of pilgrims. it was not going our way, but we joined it, nevertheless; for it was hourly being borne in upon me now, that if i would govern this country wisely, i must be posted in the details of its life, and not at second hand, but by personal observation and scrutiny. this company of pilgrims resembled chaucer's in this: that it had in it a sample of about all the upper occupations and professions the country could show, and a corresponding variety of costume. there were young men and old men, young women and old women, lively folk and grave folk. they rode upon mules and horses, and there was not a side-saddle in the party; for this specialty was to remain unknown in england for nine hundred years yet. it was a pleasant, friendly, sociable herd; pious, happy, merry and full of unconscious coarsenesses and innocent indecencies. what they regarded as the merry tale went the continual round and caused no more embarrassment than it would have caused in the best english society twelve centuries later. practical jokes worthy of the english wits of the first quarter of the far-off nineteenth century were sprung here and there and yonder along the line, and compelled the delightedest applause; and sometimes when a bright remark was made at one end of the procession and started on its travels toward the other, you could note its progress all the way by the sparkling spray of laughter it threw off from its bows as it plowed along; and also by the blushes of the mules in its wake. sandy knew the goal and purpose of this pilgrimage, and she posted me. she said: "they journey to the valley of holiness, for to be blessed of the godly hermits and drink of the miraculous waters and be cleansed from sin." "where is this watering place?" "it lieth a two-day journey hence, by the borders of the land that hight the cuckoo kingdom." "tell me about it. is it a celebrated place?" "oh, of a truth, yes. there be none more so. of old time there lived there an abbot and his monks. belike were none in the world more holy than these; for they gave themselves to study of pious books, and spoke not the one to the other, or indeed to any, and ate decayed herbs and naught thereto, and slept hard, and prayed much, and washed never; also they wore the same garment until it fell from their bodies through age and decay. right so came they to be known of all the world by reason of these holy austerities, and visited by rich and poor, and reverenced." "proceed." "but always there was lack of water there. whereas, upon a time, the holy abbot prayed, and for answer a great stream of clear water burst forth by miracle in a desert place. now were the fickle monks tempted of the fiend, and they wrought with their abbot unceasingly by beggings and beseechings that he would construct a bath; and when he was become aweary and might not resist more, he said have ye your will, then, and granted that they asked. now mark thou what 'tis to forsake the ways of purity the which he loveth, and wanton with such as be worldly and an offense. these monks did enter into the bath and come thence washed as white as snow; and lo, in that moment his sign appeared, in miraculous rebuke! for his insulted waters ceased to flow, and utterly vanished away." "they fared mildly, sandy, considering how that kind of crime is regarded in this country." "belike; but it was their first sin; and they had been of perfect life for long, and differing in naught from the angels. prayers, tears, torturings of the flesh, all was vain to beguile that water to flow again. even processions; even burnt-offerings; even votive candles to the virgin, did fail every each of them; and all in the land did marvel." "how odd to find that even this industry has its financial panics, and at times sees its assignats and greenbacks languish to zero, and everything come to a standstill. go on, sandy." "and so upon a time, after year and day, the good abbot made humble surrender and destroyed the bath. and behold, his anger was in that moment appeased, and the waters gushed richly forth again, and even unto this day they have not ceased to flow in that generous measure." "then i take it nobody has washed since." "he that would essay it could have his halter free; yes, and swiftly would he need it, too." "the community has prospered since?" "even from that very day. the fame of the miracle went abroad into all lands. from every land came monks to join; they came even as the fishes come, in shoals; and the monastery added building to building, and yet others to these, and so spread wide its arms and took them in. and nuns came, also; and more again, and yet more; and built over against the monastery on the yon side of the vale, and added building to building, until mighty was that nunnery. and these were friendly unto those, and they joined their loving labors together, and together they built a fair great foundling asylum midway of the valley between." "you spoke of some hermits, sandy." "these have gathered there from the ends of the earth. a hermit thriveth best where there be multitudes of pilgrims. ye shall not find no hermit of no sort wanting. if any shall mention a hermit of a kind he thinketh new and not to be found but in some far strange land, let him but scratch among the holes and caves and swamps that line that valley of holiness, and whatsoever be his breed, it skills not, he shall find a sample of it there." i closed up alongside of a burly fellow with a fat good-humored face, purposing to make myself agreeable and pick up some further crumbs of fact; but i had hardly more than scraped acquaintance with him when he began eagerly and awkwardly to lead up, in the immemorial way, to that same old anecdote--the one sir dinadan told me, what time i got into trouble with sir sagramor and was challenged of him on account of it. i excused myself and dropped to the rear of the procession, sad at heart, willing to go hence from this troubled life, this vale of tears, this brief day of broken rest, of cloud and storm, of weary struggle and monotonous defeat; and yet shrinking from the change, as remembering how long eternity is, and how many have wended thither who know that anecdote. early in the afternoon we overtook another procession of pilgrims; but in this one was no merriment, no jokes, no laughter, no playful ways, nor any happy giddiness, whether of youth or age. yet both were here, both age and youth; gray old men and women, strong men and women of middle age, young husbands, young wives, little boys and girls, and three babies at the breast. even the children were smileless; there was not a face among all these half a hundred people but was cast down, and bore that set expression of hopelessness which is bred of long and hard trials and old acquaintance with despair. they were slaves. chains led from their fettered feet and their manacled hands to a sole-leather belt about their waists; and all except the children were also linked together in a file six feet apart, by a single chain which led from collar to collar all down the line. they were on foot, and had tramped three hundred miles in eighteen days, upon the cheapest odds and ends of food, and stingy rations of that. they had slept in these chains every night, bundled together like swine. they had upon their bodies some poor rags, but they could not be said to be clothed. their irons had chafed the skin from their ankles and made sores which were ulcerated and wormy. their naked feet were torn, and none walked without a limp. originally there had been a hundred of these unfortunates, but about half had been sold on the trip. the trader in charge of them rode a horse and carried a whip with a short handle and a long heavy lash divided into several knotted tails at the end. with this whip he cut the shoulders of any that tottered from weariness and pain, and straightened them up. he did not speak; the whip conveyed his desire without that. none of these poor creatures looked up as we rode along by; they showed no consciousness of our presence. and they made no sound but one; that was the dull and awful clank of their chains from end to end of the long file, as forty-three burdened feet rose and fell in unison. the file moved in a cloud of its own making. all these faces were gray with a coating of dust. one has seen the like of this coating upon furniture in unoccupied houses, and has written his idle thought in it with his finger. i was reminded of this when i noticed the faces of some of those women, young mothers carrying babes that were near to death and freedom, how a something in their hearts was written in the dust upon their faces, plain to see, and lord, how plain to read! for it was the track of tears. one of these young mothers was but a girl, and it hurt me to the heart to read that writing, and reflect that it was come up out of the breast of such a child, a breast that ought not to know trouble yet, but only the gladness of the morning of life; and no doubt-she reeled just then, giddy with fatigue, and down came the lash and flicked a flake of skin from her naked shoulder. it stung me as if i had been hit instead. the master halted the file and jumped from his horse. he stormed and swore at this girl, and said she had made annoyance enough with her laziness, and as this was the last chance he should have, he would settle the account now. she dropped on her knees and put up her hands and began to beg, and cry, and implore, in a passion of terror, but the master gave no attention. he snatched the child from her, and then made the men-slaves who were chained before and behind her throw her on the ground and hold her there and expose her body; and then he laid on with his lash like a madman till her back was flayed, she shrieking and struggling the while piteously. one of the men who was holding her turned away his face, and for this humanity he was reviled and flogged. all our pilgrims looked on and commented--on the expert way in which the whip was handled. they were too much hardened by lifelong everyday familiarity with slavery to notice that there was anything else in the exhibition that invited comment. this was what slavery could do, in the way of ossifying what one may call the superior lobe of human feeling; for these pilgrims were kind-hearted people, and they would not have allowed that man to treat a horse like that. i wanted to stop the whole thing and set the slaves free, but that would not do. i must not interfere too much and get myself a name for riding over the country's laws and the citizen's rights roughshod. if i lived and prospered i would be the death of slavery, that i was resolved upon; but i would try to fix it so that when i became its executioner it should be by command of the nation. just here was the wayside shop of a smith; and now arrived a landed proprietor who had bought this girl a few miles back, deliverable here where her irons could be taken off. they were removed; then there was a squabble between the gentleman and the dealer as to which should pay the blacksmith. the moment the girl was delivered from her irons, she flung herself, all tears and frantic sobbings, into the arms of the slave who had turned away his face when she was whipped. he strained her to his breast, and smothered her face and the child's with kisses, and washed them with the rain of his tears. i suspected. i inquired. yes, i was right; it was husband and wife. they had to be torn apart by force; the girl had to be dragged away, and she struggled and fought and shrieked like one gone mad till a turn of the road hid her from sight; and even after that, we could still make out the fading plaint of those receding shrieks. and the husband and father, with his wife and child gone, never to be seen by him again in life?--well, the look of him one might not bear at all, and so i turned away; but i knew i should never get his picture out of my mind again, and there it is to this day, to wring my heartstrings whenever i think of it. we put up at the inn in a village just at nightfall, and when i rose next morning and looked abroad, i was ware where a knight came riding in the golden glory of the new day, and recognized him for knight of mine--sir ozana le cure hardy. he was in the gentlemen's furnishing line, and his missionarying specialty was plug hats. he was clothed all in steel, in the beautifulest armor of the time--up to where his helmet ought to have been; but he hadn't any helmet, he wore a shiny stove-pipe hat, and was ridiculous a spectacle as one might want to see. it was another of my surreptitious schemes for extinguishing knighthood by making it grotesque and absurd. sir ozana's saddle was hung about with leather hat boxes, and every time he overcame a wandering knight he swore him into my service and fitted him with a plug and made him wear it. i dressed and ran down to welcome sir ozana and get his news. "how is trade?" i asked. "ye will note that i have but these four left; yet were they sixteen whenas i got me from camelot." "why, you have certainly done nobly, sir ozana. where have you been foraging of late?" "i am but now come from the valley of holiness, please you sir." "i am pointed for that place myself. is there anything stirring in the monkery, more than common?" "by the mass ye may not question it!.... give him good feed, boy, and stint it not, an thou valuest thy crown; so get ye lightly to the stable and do even as i bid.... sir, it is parlous news i bring, and--be these pilgrims? then ye may not do better, good folk, than gather and hear the tale i have to tell, sith it concerneth you, forasmuch as ye go to find that ye will not find, and seek that ye will seek in vain, my life being hostage for my word, and my word and message being these, namely: that a hap has happened whereof the like has not been seen no more but once this two hundred years, which was the first and last time that that said misfortune strake the holy valley in that form by commandment of the most high whereto by reasons just and causes thereunto contributing, wherein the matter--" "the miraculous fount hath ceased to flow!" this shout burst from twenty pilgrim mouths at once. "ye say well, good people. i was verging to it, even when ye spake." "has somebody been washing again?" "nay, it is suspected, but none believe it. it is thought to be some other sin, but none wit what." "how are they feeling about the calamity?" "none may describe it in words. the fount is these nine days dry. the prayers that did begin then, and the lamentations in sackcloth and ashes, and the holy processions, none of these have ceased nor night nor day; and so the monks and the nuns and the foundlings be all exhausted, and do hang up prayers writ upon parchment, sith that no strength is left in man to lift up voice. and at last they sent for thee, sir boss, to try magic and enchantment; and if you could not come, then was the messenger to fetch merlin, and he is there these three days now, and saith he will fetch that water though he burst the globe and wreck its kingdoms to accomplish it; and right bravely doth he work his magic and call upon his hellions to hie them hither and help, but not a whiff of moisture hath he started yet, even so much as might qualify as mist upon a copper mirror an ye count not the barrel of sweat he sweateth betwixt sun and sun over the dire labors of his task; and if ye--" breakfast was ready. as soon as it was over i showed to sir ozana these words which i had written on the inside of his hat: "chemical department, laboratory extension, section g. pxxp. send two of first size, two of no. 3, and six of no. 4, together with the proper complementary details--and two of my trained assistants." and i said: "now get you to camelot as fast as you can fly, brave knight, and show the writing to clarence, and tell him to have these required matters in the valley of holiness with all possible dispatch." "i will well, sir boss," and he was off. chapter xxii the holy fountain the pilgrims were human beings. otherwise they would have acted differently. they had come a long and difficult journey, and now when the journey was nearly finished, and they learned that the main thing they had come for had ceased to exist, they didn't do as horses or cats or angle-worms would probably have done--turn back and get at something profitable--no, anxious as they had before been to see the miraculous fountain, they were as much as forty times as anxious now to see the place where it had used to be. there is no accounting for human beings. we made good time; and a couple of hours before sunset we stood upon the high confines of the valley of holiness, and our eyes swept it from end to end and noted its features. that is, its large features. these were the three masses of buildings. they were distant and isolated temporalities shrunken to toy constructions in the lonely waste of what seemed a desert--and was. such a scene is always mournful, it is so impressively still, and looks so steeped in death. but there was a sound here which interrupted the stillness only to add to its mournfulness; this was the faint far sound of tolling bells which floated fitfully to us on the passing breeze, and so faintly, so softly, that we hardly knew whether we heard it with our ears or with our spirits. we reached the monastery before dark, and there the males were given lodging, but the women were sent over to the nunnery. the bells were close at hand now, and their solemn booming smote upon the ear like a message of doom. a superstitious despair possessed the heart of every monk and published itself in his ghastly face. everywhere, these black-robed, soft-sandaled, tallow-visaged specters appeared, flitted about and disappeared, noiseless as the creatures of a troubled dream, and as uncanny. the old abbot's joy to see me was pathetic. even to tears; but he did the shedding himself. he said: "delay not, son, but get to thy saving work. an we bring not the water back again, and soon, we are ruined, and the good work of two hundred years must end. and see thou do it with enchantments that be holy, for the church will not endure that work in her cause be done by devil's magic." "when i work, father, be sure there will be no devil's work connected with it. i shall use no arts that come of the devil, and no elements not created by the hand of god. but is merlin working strictly on pious lines?" "ah, he said he would, my son, he said he would, and took oath to make his promise good." "well, in that case, let him proceed." "but surely you will not sit idle by, but help?" "it will not answer to mix methods, father; neither would it be professional courtesy. two of a trade must not underbid each other. we might as well cut rates and be done with it; it would arrive at that in the end. merlin has the contract; no other magician can touch it till he throws it up." "but i will take it from him; it is a terrible emergency and the act is thereby justified. and if it were not so, who will give law to the church? the church giveth law to all; and what she wills to do, that she may do, hurt whom it may. i will take it from him; you shall begin upon the moment." "it may not be, father. no doubt, as you say, where power is supreme, one can do as one likes and suffer no injury; but we poor magicians are not so situated. merlin is a very good magician in a small way, and has quite a neat provincial reputation. he is struggling along, doing the best he can, and it would not be etiquette for me to take his job until he himself abandons it." the abbot's face lighted. "ah, that is simple. there are ways to persuade him to abandon it." "no-no, father, it skills not, as these people say. if he were persuaded against his will, he would load that well with a malicious enchantment which would balk me until i found out its secret. it might take a month. i could set up a little enchantment of mine which i call the telephone, and he could not find out its secret in a hundred years. yes, you perceive, he might block me for a month. would you like to risk a month in a dry time like this?" "a month! the mere thought of it maketh me to shudder. have it thy way, my son. but my heart is heavy with this disappointment. leave me, and let me wear my spirit with weariness and waiting, even as i have done these ten long days, counterfeiting thus the thing that is called rest, the prone body making outward sign of repose where inwardly is none." of course, it would have been best, all round, for merlin to waive etiquette and quit and call it half a day, since he would never be able to start that water, for he was a true magician of the time; which is to say, the big miracles, the ones that gave him his reputation, always had the luck to be performed when nobody but merlin was present; he couldn't start this well with all this crowd around to see; a crowd was as bad for a magician's miracle in that day as it was for a spiritualist's miracle in mine; there was sure to be some skeptic on hand to turn up the gas at the crucial moment and spoil everything. but i did not want merlin to retire from the job until i was ready to take hold of it effectively myself; and i could not do that until i got my things from camelot, and that would take two or three days. my presence gave the monks hope, and cheered them up a good deal; insomuch that they ate a square meal that night for the first time in ten days. as soon as their stomachs had been properly reinforced with food, their spirits began to rise fast; when the mead began to go round they rose faster. by the time everybody was half-seas over, the holy community was in good shape to make a night of it; so we stayed by the board and put it through on that line. matters got to be very jolly. good old questionable stories were told that made the tears run down and cavernous mouths stand wide and the round bellies shake with laughter; and questionable songs were bellowed out in a mighty chorus that drowned the boom of the tolling bells. at last i ventured a story myself; and vast was the success of it. not right off, of course, for the native of those islands does not, as a rule, dissolve upon the early applications of a humorous thing; but the fifth time i told it, they began to crack in places; the eight time i told it, they began to crumble; at the twelfth repetition they fell apart in chunks; and at the fifteenth they disintegrated, and i got a broom and swept them up. this language is figurative. those islanders--well, they are slow pay at first, in the matter of return for your investment of effort, but in the end they make the pay of all other nations poor and small by contrast. i was at the well next day betimes. merlin was there, enchanting away like a beaver, but not raising the moisture. he was not in a pleasant humor; and every time i hinted that perhaps this contract was a shade too hefty for a novice he unlimbered his tongue and cursed like a bishop--french bishop of the regency days, i mean. matters were about as i expected to find them. the "fountain" was an ordinary well, it had been dug in the ordinary way, and stoned up in the ordinary way. there was no miracle about it. even the lie that had created its reputation was not miraculous; i could have told it myself, with one hand tied behind me. the well was in a dark chamber which stood in the center of a cut-stone chapel, whose walls were hung with pious pictures of a workmanship that would have made a chromo feel good; pictures historically commemorative of curative miracles which had been achieved by the waters when nobody was looking. that is, nobody but angels; they are always on deck when there is a miracle to the fore--so as to get put in the picture, perhaps. angels are as fond of that as a fire company; look at the old masters. the well-chamber was dimly lighted by lamps; the water was drawn with a windlass and chain by monks, and poured into troughs which delivered it into stone reservoirs outside in the chapel--when there was water to draw, i mean--and none but monks could enter the well-chamber. i entered it, for i had temporary authority to do so, by courtesy of my professional brother and subordinate. but he hadn't entered it himself. he did everything by incantations; he never worked his intellect. if he had stepped in there and used his eyes, instead of his disordered mind, he could have cured the well by natural means, and then turned it into a miracle in the customary way; but no, he was an old numskull, a magician who believed in his own magic; and no magician can thrive who is handicapped with a superstition like that. i had an idea that the well had sprung a leak; that some of the wall stones near the bottom had fallen and exposed fissures that allowed the water to escape. i measured the chain--98 feet. then i called in a couple of monks, locked the door, took a candle, and made them lower me in the bucket. when the chain was all paid out, the candle confirmed my suspicion; a considerable section of the wall was gone, exposing a good big fissure. i almost regretted that my theory about the well's trouble was correct, because i had another one that had a showy point or two about it for a miracle. i remembered that in america, many centuries later, when an oil well ceased to flow, they used to blast it out with a dynamite torpedo. if i should find this well dry and no explanation of it, i could astonish these people most nobly by having a person of no especial value drop a dynamite bomb into it. it was my idea to appoint merlin. however, it was plain that there was no occasion for the bomb. one cannot have everything the way he would like it. a man has no business to be depressed by a disappointment, anyway; he ought to make up his mind to get even. that is what i did. i said to myself, i am in no hurry, i can wait; that bomb will come good yet. and it did, too. when i was above ground again, i turned out the monks, and let down a fish-line; the well was a hundred and fifty feet deep, and there was forty-one feet of water in it. i called in a monk and asked: "how deep is the well?" "that, sir, i wit not, having never been told." "how does the water usually stand in it?" "near to the top, these two centuries, as the testimony goeth, brought down to us through our predecessors." it was true--as to recent times at least--for there was witness to it, and better witness than a monk; only about twenty or thirty feet of the chain showed wear and use, the rest of it was unworn and rusty. what had happened when the well gave out that other time? without doubt some practical person had come along and mended the leak, and then had come up and told the abbot he had discovered by divination that if the sinful bath were destroyed the well would flow again. the leak had befallen again now, and these children would have prayed, and processioned, and tolled their bells for heavenly succor till they all dried up and blew away, and no innocent of them all would ever have thought to drop a fish-line into the well or go down in it and find out what was really the matter. old habit of mind is one of the toughest things to get away from in the world. it transmits itself like physical form and feature; and for a man, in those days, to have had an idea that his ancestors hadn't had, would have brought him under suspicion of being illegitimate. i said to the monk: "it is a difficult miracle to restore water in a dry well, but we will try, if my brother merlin fails. brother merlin is a very passable artist, but only in the parlor-magic line, and he may not succeed; in fact, is not likely to succeed. but that should be nothing to his discredit; the man that can do _this_ kind of miracle knows enough to keep hotel." "hotel? i mind not to have heard--" "of hotel? it's what you call hostel. the man that can do this miracle can keep hostel. i can do this miracle; i shall do this miracle; yet i do not try to conceal from you that it is a miracle to tax the occult powers to the last strain." "none knoweth that truth better than the brotherhood, indeed; for it is of record that aforetime it was parlous difficult and took a year. natheless, god send you good success, and to that end will we pray." as a matter of business it was a good idea to get the notion around that the thing was difficult. many a small thing has been made large by the right kind of advertising. that monk was filled up with the difficulty of this enterprise; he would fill up the others. in two days the solicitude would be booming. on my way home at noon, i met sandy. she had been sampling the hermits. i said: "i would like to do that myself. this is wednesday. is there a matinee?" "a which, please you, sir?" "matinee. do they keep open afternoons?" "who?" "the hermits, of course." "keep open?" "yes, keep open. isn't that plain enough? do they knock off at noon?" "knock off?" "knock off?--yes, knock off. what is the matter with knock off? i never saw such a dunderhead; can't you understand anything at all? in plain terms, do they shut up shop, draw the game, bank the fires--" "shut up shop, draw--" "there, never mind, let it go; you make me tired. you can't seem to understand the simplest thing." "i would i might please thee, sir, and it is to me dole and sorrow that i fail, albeit sith i am but a simple damsel and taught of none, being from the cradle unbaptized in those deep waters of learning that do anoint with a sovereignty him that partaketh of that most noble sacrament, investing him with reverend state to the mental eye of the humble mortal who, by bar and lack of that great consecration seeth in his own unlearned estate but a symbol of that other sort of lack and loss which men do publish to the pitying eye with sackcloth trappings whereon the ashes of grief do lie bepowdered and bestrewn, and so, when such shall in the darkness of his mind encounter these golden phrases of high mystery, these shut-up-shops, and draw-the-game, and bank-the-fires, it is but by the grace of god that he burst not for envy of the mind that can beget, and tongue that can deliver so great and mellow-sounding miracles of speech, and if there do ensue confusion in that humbler mind, and failure to divine the meanings of these wonders, then if so be this miscomprehension is not vain but sooth and true, wit ye well it is the very substance of worshipful dear homage and may not lightly be misprized, nor had been, an ye had noted this complexion of mood and mind and understood that that i would i could not, and that i could not i might not, nor yet nor might _nor_ could, nor might-not nor could-not, might be by advantage turned to the desired _would_, and so i pray you mercy of my fault, and that ye will of your kindness and your charity forgive it, good my master and most dear lord." i couldn't make it all out--that is, the details--but i got the general idea; and enough of it, too, to be ashamed. it was not fair to spring those nineteenth century technicalities upon the untutored infant of the sixth and then rail at her because she couldn't get their drift; and when she was making the honest best drive at it she could, too, and no fault of hers that she couldn't fetch the home plate; and so i apologized. then we meandered pleasantly away toward the hermit holes in sociable converse together, and better friends than ever. i was gradually coming to have a mysterious and shuddery reverence for this girl; nowadays whenever she pulled out from the station and got her train fairly started on one of those horizonless transcontinental sentences of hers, it was borne in upon me that i was standing in the awful presence of the mother of the german language. i was so impressed with this, that sometimes when she began to empty one of these sentences on me i unconsciously took the very attitude of reverence, and stood uncovered; and if words had been water, i had been drowned, sure. she had exactly the german way; whatever was in her mind to be delivered, whether a mere remark, or a sermon, or a cyclopedia, or the history of a war, she would get it into a single sentence or die. whenever the literary german dives into a sentence, that is the last you are going to see of him till he emerges on the other side of his atlantic with his verb in his mouth. we drifted from hermit to hermit all the afternoon. it was a most strange menagerie. the chief emulation among them seemed to be, to see which could manage to be the uncleanest and most prosperous with vermin. their manner and attitudes were the last expression of complacent self-righteousness. it was one anchorite's pride to lie naked in the mud and let the insects bite him and blister him unmolested; it was another's to lean against a rock, all day long, conspicuous to the admiration of the throng of pilgrims and pray; it was another's to go naked and crawl around on all fours; it was another's to drag about with him, year in and year out, eighty pounds of iron; it was another's to never lie down when he slept, but to stand among the thorn-bushes and snore when there were pilgrims around to look; a woman, who had the white hair of age, and no other apparel, was black from crown to heel with forty-seven years of holy abstinence from water. groups of gazing pilgrims stood around all and every of these strange objects, lost in reverent wonder, and envious of the fleckless sanctity which these pious austerities had won for them from an exacting heaven. by and by we went to see one of the supremely great ones. he was a mighty celebrity; his fame had penetrated all christendom; the noble and the renowned journeyed from the remotest lands on the globe to pay him reverence. his stand was in the center of the widest part of the valley; and it took all that space to hold his crowds. his stand was a pillar sixty feet high, with a broad platform on the top of it. he was now doing what he had been doing every day for twenty years up there--bowing his body ceaselessly and rapidly almost to his feet. it was his way of praying. i timed him with a stop watch, and he made 1,244 revolutions in 24 minutes and 46 seconds. it seemed a pity to have all this power going to waste. it was one of the most useful motions in mechanics, the pedal movement; so i made a note in my memorandum book, purposing some day to apply a system of elastic cords to him and run a sewing machine with it. i afterward carried out that scheme, and got five years' good service out of him; in which time he turned out upward of eighteen thousand first-rate tow-linen shirts, which was ten a day. i worked him sundays and all; he was going, sundays, the same as week days, and it was no use to waste the power. these shirts cost me nothing but just the mere trifle for the materials--i furnished those myself, it would not have been right to make him do that--and they sold like smoke to pilgrims at a dollar and a half apiece, which was the price of fifty cows or a blooded race horse in arthurdom. they were regarded as a perfect protection against sin, and advertised as such by my knights everywhere, with the paint-pot and stencil-plate; insomuch that there was not a cliff or a bowlder or a dead wall in england but you could read on it at a mile distance: "buy the only genuine st. stylite; patronized by the nobility. patent applied for." there was more money in the business than one knew what to do with. as it extended, i brought out a line of goods suitable for kings, and a nobby thing for duchesses and that sort, with ruffles down the forehatch and the running-gear clewed up with a featherstitch to leeward and then hauled aft with a back-stay and triced up with a half-turn in the standing rigging forward of the weather-gaskets. yes, it was a daisy. but about that time i noticed that the motive power had taken to standing on one leg, and i found that there was something the matter with the other one; so i stocked the business and unloaded, taking sir bors de ganis into camp financially along with certain of his friends; for the works stopped within a year, and the good saint got him to his rest. but he had earned it. i can say that for him. when i saw him that first time--however, his personal condition will not quite bear description here. you can read it in the lives of the saints.* [*all the details concerning the hermits, in this chapter, are from lecky--but greatly modified. this book not being a history but only a tale, the majority of the historian's frank details were too strong for reproduction in it.--_editor_] nicanor teller of tales ----------------------------------------------------------------------[illustration: "in a physical ecstasy he spoke out that which clamored at his lips." (page 44)] ----------------------------------------------------------------------nicanor teller of tales a story of roman britain by c. bryson taylor author of "in the dwellings of the wilderness" having pictures and designs by troy and margaret west kinney chicago a. c. mcclurg & co. 1906 ----------------------------------------------------------------------copyright a. c. mcclurg & co. 1906 entered at stationers' hall, london, england all rights reserved published april 28, 1906 typography by the university press, cambridge, u.s.a. presswork by the lakeside press, chicago, u.s.a. ----------------------------------------------------------------------c. h. b. to you, whose love did come and oft did sing to me, when i was working in the furrows. ----------------------------------------------------------------------contents book i page the mantle of melchior . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 book ii the garden of dreams . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59 book iii pawns and players . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119 book iv the lord's daughter and the one who went in chains . . . . . . . 207 book v the night and the dawning . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 295 ----------------------------------------------------------------------illustrations page "in a physical ecstasy he spoke out that which clamored on his lips" [page 44] frontispiece "'were i that woman, i should have wanted to love him'" [page 85] 72 "'you sent for me, lady varia?'" [page 152] 176 "half a dozen young beauties had taken possession,--girls of the haughtiest blood in britain" [page 240] 254 "the sight burst upon him in all its hideousness--where had been the stately mansion of his lord" [page 344] 364 ----------------------------------------------------------------------characters eudemius, a roman lord living in britain varia, his daughter livinius, a roman citizen, a boyhood friend of eudemius marius, his son, of the roman legions in gaul marcus silenus pomponius, count of the saxon shore } aurelius menotus, duumvir of anderida } guests of felix, his son } eudemius caius julius valens, a roman citizen } julia } nigidia } roman girls, daughters of the paula } guests of eudemius gratia } nerissa, nurse to varia hito, master of the household of eudemius chloris, of all nations, living upon thorney sada, a saxon } inmates of her house eunice, a greek } eldris, a briton, a convert to christianity wardo, a saxon, a slave in the house of eudemius valerius, a roman, a soldier of fortune tobias, a hebrew, a worker in ivory rathumus, a british peasant, bound to the soil susanna, a hebrew woman, his wife nicanor, a story-teller, their son wulf, the red, a saxon free-lance ceawlin, a saxon chieftain father ambrose, of the christian church nicodemus, the one-eyed, a british freedman myleia, his wife marcus, a slave in the house of eudemius balbus, a convict juncina, a fish-wife on thorney sosia, her daughter a flower-girl, a saxon singer, slaves, trades-folk, soldiers of the military police; guards and overseers of the mines, and miners; roman nobles and patrician women; saxon men-at-arms, and men of the outland nations scene: britain in the last days of roman power time: between a.d. 410 and 446 ----------------------------------------------------------------------list of towns and rivers with their modern sites and names abus flumen humber river. ad fines broughing, hertfordshire. anderida pevensey. aquæ solis bath. bibracte _unknown_. caledonia scotland. calleva silchester. corinium cirencester. cunetio folly farm, near marlborough. deva chester. dubræ dover. eboracum york. gobannium abergavenny. glevum gloucester. isca silurum carleon. leucarum llychwr, county of glamorgan. londinium london. noviomagus holwood hill, parish of bromley. pontes staines portus magnus porchester. ratæ leicester. regnum chichester. rutupiæ richborough sabrina flumen severn river. serica china. tamesis flumen thames river. tripontium _near_ lilburne. uriconium wroxeter. urus flumen ouse river. ----------------------------------------------------------------------the mantle of melchior book i ----------------------------------------------------------------------nicanor: teller of tales book i the mantle of melchior i nicanor the story-teller was the son of rathumus the wood-cutter, who was the son of razis the worker in bronze, who was the son of melchior the story-teller. so that nicanor came honestly by his gift, and would even believe that his great-grandsire had handed it down to him by special act of bequest. now rathumus the wood-cutter, tall and gaunt and fierce-eyed, coming home with his fagots on his shoulder in the gloam of the evening, when the fireflies twinkled low among the marshes, saw nicanor on the side of the hill against the sky, sitting with hands clasped about his knees, crooning to the stars. rathumus bowed his head and entered his house, and to susanna, his wife, he said: "the gift of our father melchior hath fallen upon the child. i have seen it coming this long, long while. now he singeth to the stars. when they have heard him and have taught him, he will go and sing to men. he is our child no longer, wife. his life hath claimed him." susanna, the mother, said: "he will be a man among men. he will be a great man among great men. it may be that the lord governor will send for him. but--oh, my boy--my boy!" rathumus answered gravely: "pray the holy gods he will not misuse his power!" presently nicanor came in, with the spell not yet shaken off him, wanting his supper. a smaller image of his father he was, lean and shock-headed, with gray steady eyes changing from the stillness of childhood's innocence to the depth and wonder of dawning knowledge. rathumus said: "what hast been doing, boy?" nicanor stretched like one arousing from sleep. "i know not," he answered. "perhaps i slept out under the moon last night and she hath turned my head.--father, i have been thinking. when i am become a man i shall do great things. even you have told me that the destiny of a man's life lieth between his hands." "son," rathumus said quickly, "remember also that men's hands lie between the hands of the gods, even as a slave's between the hands of his over-lord. keep it in mind, child, that thou art very young, that thy first strength hath not yet come upon thee; and strive not to teach to others what thou hast not learned thyself. for that way lies mockery and the scorn of men." "now i do not understand where thy words would lead," nicanor said; and his gray eyes, in the wavering torchlight, were doubtful. "i teach no one. perhaps--it was not i who slept under the moon, after all." for he was young, and though his parents saw what had come upon him, he himself saw not. so nicanor had his supper, of black bean-porridge, taking no thought of those parents' loving thought for him; and later climbed the ladder to the loft where he slept. after a while, susanna, yearning over her boy in this, the first dim hour of his awakening,--yearning all the more since she saw that he was following blindly the workings of his own appointed fate, without any sense or knowledge of it himself,--went up the ladder also and sat beside him, thinking him asleep. but nicanor put out a hand and slid it into hers, and shuffled in his straw until he was close against her. she gathered him into her arms, his shaggy head upon her breast, and rocked him to and fro in the darkness. to-morrow he would go where this fate of his called him; but this last night he must be hers, all hers, who had borne him only to give him up. nicanor, stupid with sleep and comfort, murmured drowsily, and she bent close over him to listen. "mother, three nights ago my father spoke of melchior, and the name hath lingered in my head. who was he? what was he?" "thy father's father's sire," she told him. she saw it coming; the chains which bound his heart to hers were stretching. "he was a teller of tales, son, and--thy father thinks a fold of his mantle hath fallen upon thee. he it was who was first servus in the family of our lord. little one, tell mother; what thoughts hast thou when the night comes down and the wide earth hushes into drowsy crooning? hast ever felt dreams stirring at thy heart-strings like chords of faintest music?" "mother!" nicanor cried, and tightened his arms about her. "thou hast it--the words--the words! tell me how to do it! thoughts i have, and visions so far away that they are gone before i know them--but the words! i cannot say the things i would, so that they ring. teach it me, then!" susanna laughed, and stroked her boy's hot head. "words i have, little son," she said softly, "but i have no tune to sing them to. a woman hath but one tune, and that is ever in the same key. one song, and one only, in her life she hath, and when that is ended, she is dumb. but please the good god! thou'lt have what lies behind the words and alone makes them of value; the thought which is the foundation-stone to build upon. and then the words will come also. what visions hast thou seen, sonling?" "mother, i cannot tell, for my mouth is empty though my head rings. always it begins as though a curtain of mist were swept rolling back from the face of the world, and i see below me vague mountains and broad lonely wastes, and gray cities sleeping in dead moonlight, for it is ever night. i see clouds that reach away to the rim of the earth, and it is all as in a dream, and--and so deep within me that i lose it before i know it.--oh, i cannot tell!" he stirred restlessly and nestled his head deeper into her breast, and she stroked his hair in silence. when he spoke again there was a new note in his boy's voice. "mother, i too will be a teller of tales, even as was that sire of my father's sire whose name was melchior. for in that there is to me all joy, and no pain nor sorrow at all. and i shall be great, greater than he and greater than those who shall come after me." susanna laid her hand across his mouth. "hush thee, for the love of dear heaven, hush! that is boasting, and good never came of that! oh, little son of mine, listen to me, thy mother,--it may be for the last time,--and keep my words always in a corner of thy heart. they shall be as a charm to keep all danger from thee. pray to god nightly, the dear god of whom i have tried to teach thee; keep thy hands from blood, thy body from wanton sin, and thy tongue from guile. so shalt thou be pure and thy tales prosper; for untainted fruit never blossomed from a dunghill. remember that the lord loveth all his creatures even the same as he loveth thee. as thou hast good and evil both within thee, so have others; wherefore judge them in mercy as thou wouldst thyself. and judge thyself in sternness as thou wouldst them; so shalt thou keep the balance true. now thou art sleeping through my preaching--well, never mind! kiss thy mother, dear one, and i will go." she descended the ladder; and nicanor's voice came sleepily muffled through the straw. "all the same i shall be great--greater than that old man who was before me--greater than kings--greater than any who shall come after--" he slept, and the moonlight streamed upon him in a flood of silver. and below, at rathumus' side, lay susanna, the mother, and stared wide-eyed and wakeful through the darkness. ii nicanor sat beside the fire, his hands clasping his knees, his eyes glowing in the ruddy leaping of the flames. around him on the moor squatted a band of belated roving shepherds, who from all the country round were bringing their flocks to fold for the winter. about the fire, at discreet intervals, the sheep were herded, each flock by itself. around every huddle a black figure circled, staff in hand, hushing wakeful disturbers into peace. the shepherds ringing the fire sprawled carelessly; uncouth rough men with shaggy beards and keen eyes, their features thrown into sharp relief against the light. farther off, small groups, close-sitting, cast dice upon a sheepskin with muttered growls of laughter. the musky smell of the animals tinged the first chill of autumn which hung in the air. around them the moor stretched away, vast and silent, broken into ridges filled with impenetrable shadows until it melted into the mystery of the night. over the world's darkness a slender moon, sharp-horned, wandered through rifting clouds. nicanor's voice rose and fell with the crackling flames. his eyes gleamed, his face quivered; the men within hearing hung upon his words. gradually the dicers' laughter died; one by one they left their clusters and joined the circle at the fire. nicanor saw, and his heart swelled high. this was what he loved,--to fare forth at night and come upon such a crowd of drovers, or it might be wood-cutters or charcoal burners; to begin his chant abruptly, in the midst of conversation; to see his listeners draw close and closer, gazing wide-eyed, half in awe; to move them to laughter or to tears, as suited him; to sway them as the marsh winds swayed the reeds. at times, when this sense of power shook him, he took a savage delight in seeing them turn, one to another, great bearded men, sobbing, gasping for breath, striving for self-control,--simple-hearted children of moor and forest, whose emotions he could mould as a potter moulds his clay. he could have laughed aloud, he could have sung for sheer joy and triumph, to watch this thing. again, he would make them shiver at his tales of the world of darkness--shiver and glance from side to side into the outer blackness, with eyes gleaming white in the firelight. for it was a superstitious age, in which every field, every hearth-stone, had its presiding genius for good or ill; and there were many things of which men spoke with bated breath and two fingers out. nicanor ended his chant: "so this man died, being unpunished, and went away into a great country which was a field of flowers. and in the midst of the field was a city wherein the man would enter. but even as he walked through this field of flowers, he saw that out of the flowers ran blood, and the flowers spoke and cried out upon him because of that thing which he had done when he was upon the earth. and the man was sorely frightened." there was a mutter and a stir among the crowd. a black bulk heaved itself up between nicanor and the firelight, and a swollen voice cried out: "now by christ his cross, how comes it that this snipe of a stripling may speak from his mouth of what lieth beyond the grave? for this is death, and death is a matter concerning holy church alone. by what right doth he tell us of what she says no mortal may know?" cries from his mates interrupted. "nay, rag; shut thy gaping mouth and leave the lad in peace! and so--and so--what then befell this wicked man, son?" but rag was not minded to be put aside so lightly. "i say 'tis wrong!" he bawled. "no man, without warrant, may thus blab of what goeth on beyond the grave!" a voice seconded him from the outer ring, but dubiously. "i think the saxon right! how may we know if this lad speaks true of that which comes to pass hereafter? boy, what earnest canst give that this thing happened so?" but another shouted: "in the name of the gods, rag, get thee to sleep once more, thou stupidest lout in britain! it is a scurvy trick to waken thus at the wrong time and trumpet thy nonsense in such fashion. good youth canst not skip that bit for peace's sake, and get on to the next part?" rag's voice blared into this one's speech. "nay, now i am awake, i'll not sleep again until i know if a lie hath waked me. for if it be not the truth, it is a lie, and a lie shall have short shrift with me!" the men, stirred by the tale, took sides. a gale of conversation sprang up. some wished the story to go on; others would know by what means this lanky youth could tell of what was to come to pass hereafter. they knew not the word imagination. consequently fierce arguments arose. the burly cause of the uproar curled up and went quietly to sleep once more, leaving his fellows to settle for themselves the questions he had propounded. it is the way of his kind. high words fanned the spark of their excitement. two met with blows; one stumbled into the hot embers. he cursed, and the light flashed on a drawn blade. instantly the noise redoubled. mingled with it was the bleating of frightened sheep, the oaths of drovers who strove to check incipient stampedes. nicanor hugged himself with joy. if but his father could be there to see! melchior, that wonderful great-sire of his, could not have so stirred men that they were ready even for blood and violence. he, nicanor, could; wherefore he was greater than melchior. his blood leaped at the thought; he wished to proclaim his exultation to the world. but things soon took a different turn. in the confusion, rag, lying almost beneath his comrades' feet, got himself kicked. he leaped to his feet, dazed, roaring like a bull, and, stupid lout that he was, took unreasoning vengeance upon the first object which caught his eye. this chanced to be nicanor. "see what thou hast brought us to, son of perdition!" he cried. "but for thee and thy fool's tales we should be lying asleep like good men and true. this is thy work, with thy talk on heaven and hell and flowers which vomit blood. god's death! heard ever man the like? if thou knowest not of what thou pratest, thou hast lied, and that deserves a beating. if thou dost know, thou hast the black art of magic,--an evil-doer, with familiars who tell thee things not to be known of earth; and that deserves a flaying!" his voice was loud. his partisans took up his cry. nicanor found himself surrounded. he became enraged; forgot that he himself with his wizard tongue had worked them into a very fitting state for any outbreak. that the emotions he had aroused should be turned against himself was a monstrous thing. he drew his knife; one seized it from his hand and flung it into the heart of the fire. black figures danced around him; he was lifted off his feet by their rush; flung down, trampled upon, bruised, kicked, beaten. men, losing all thought of him, fought over his head, clamoring old pagan creeds and shrieking aloud their theories concerning the seven mysteries of the church. they differed wildly. from the criticism of a romantic tale, the discussion flamed into a religious war. one with a broken head fell senseless near nicanor. he, in scarcely better case, turned and squirmed until he got himself covered with the body; so saved his ribs and perhaps his life. the combat ended, after a lapse of minutes, as abruptly as it had started. a cry arose from the hurrying guardians of the flocks: "the sheep! look to the sheep! they scatter!" the animals, frightened by the uproar into panic, broke from their cordon and bolted into the darkness. religion was forgotten on the instant; men in the act of giving a blow swung around and fled after their property. seeing this out of the tail of his eye, nicanor crawled from beneath the protecting body. he stood upright beside the deserted fire, panting, glaring, his clothes in tatters. blood flowed from his nose, and from a cut upon his temple. he was a sorry sight. he lifted his clenched fist and shook it at his vanishing assailants. "by christ his cross!" he swore, repeating rag's oath, "after this i shall make you believe what i tell you, though i say that your hell is heaven and your heaven hell. you have bruised me, beaten me, because of what? something too high for your sodden brains to know! you have flouted me; now i shall flout you. i shall make you fear me, tremble at my words--ay, kiss the very ground beneath my feet. you shall learn to fear me and my power; you shall cringe like the curs you are!" he went home in a quiver of rage and hate and shame, wounded in his body, still more sorely in his dignity, and told his mother he was going away. where, he did not know. this was a small detail, since to him all the world was new. folk had faith in the manifestations of providence in those days; rathumus and susanna believed they heard fate speaking by the mouth of their angry son. susanna's eyes filled with tears. rathumus nodded his great head gravely and slowly. nicanor, overflowing with his wrongs, strode up and down the hard earth floor in a passion. again he gave tongue to his lamentations. "i am stronger than they--i shall conquer! thou shalt see! i shall make them acknowledge that i, son of rathumus, am greater than they. this shall be my revenge, and though it take me all the years of my life, i shall win to it by fair means or foul." "son, son!" rathumus said sternly. "speak not thus rashly. for the gods, and the gods alone, is vengeance." but susanna took her boy to his own loft, and there comforted him, motherwise. "thou wilt yet get the better of them all, my son. that they should have dared to treat thee so! but oh, be careful, for my sake! now hearken. i will have thy father pray that our gracious lord permit thee to go to christian saint peter's church, on thorney, which is called the bramble isle, to learn a trade. though he be no believer in the faith, our lord is a good man, merciful unto us, his slaves, and i doubt not will give consent. then seek there a man by name of tobias, a colonus and a worker in ivory for the good christian priests. he, it may be, will aid thee for sake of her who is thy mother." she stopped, then, and looked into his face. but he met her eyes without a change, and never thought to question what her words might mean. for he was very young; also his mother was his mother. so that susanna smiled, for pure joy and happiness, and said: "he is a wise man, with goodly store of wealth. also hath he been in far strange countries, and seen right marvellous things. and he will take thee to learn of him, if so be thou wilt say thou art son to rathumus and susanna his wife. and so wilt thou become great, and very wise, and loving." so in the end, nicanor started off alone in the world, with his parents' blessing, which was all they had to give him, to find out whither this fate of his had called him. iii thus it was that nicanor left his home in the gray northlands, up by the rolling hills and the barren moors which lay under the great wall of hadrian; and journeyed down the long road which led ever southward to londinium. past eboracum, on the urus, that "other rome," where the governor of britain dwelt, famous as the station of the sixth legion, called the victorious, the flower of the roman army, which men said had been there for upwards of three hundred years. he crossed the wide river abus, and thought it the ocean of which he had heard tales; he stole at stations and begged at farms, and drank in all that he could see and hear. over hills and through valleys the great road ran, straightaway for league upon league, turning aside for no obstacle, invincible as its builders, ancient and enduring. it crossed rivers, it clove through darkling woods, it traversed wide and lonely wastes, and led past walled towns, worn by the feet of marching legions, scored with the grooves of wheels. and even as across the world all roads led to rome, so here did all roads lead to londinium, and therefore to thorney on tamesis. and londinium was no longer the collection of mud huts filled with blue-painted britons, of which dim tales were told. for under roman rule fair britain had cast half off the shroud of her brutish early days, and blossomed into a civilization such as she never before had known, and would not know again for many hundred years. one passing glimpse of light she caught--even though it had its shadows--before the veil shut down once more with the coming of the saxons. for, though roman rule in britain was said to end with the fourth century, roman influence, roman customs, roman laws, survived and were paramount during the years of independence which followed, until throttled by the slowly tightening hand of saxon barbarism. then the old dark times returned. the romans were hard taskmasters, but the task they had was hard. they were often merciless, but those beneath them had been wild beasts to tame. they were in power supreme and absolute, and they lived in ease and plenty upon the toil of native serfs and bondsmen. fair villas, stately palaces, costly foods and fine raiment--all the luxuries those old days knew were theirs. under them was the mass of the native population, staggering beneath their burden of taxation, bound to the soil, often absolute slaves, who spent their lives toiling in brickfields, in quarries, in mines, and in forests, living in straw-thatched cabins upon the lands of masters who paid no wage. when there was rebellion, these masters knew how to deal punishment swift and sure; when there was submission, they gave kindness and reward. had rome not been as strong as even in her decline she was, romans could not have held britain as long as they did. for on sea and land, on the verge of the civilization they maintained, were restless tribes, scots, picts, and saxons, seizing every pretext, every moment of unguardedness, for encroachment and disturbance. so that their stern discipline was necessary, and not without results which went for further good. under roman rule all the surface of the land was changed. great towns, walled and fortified, rose on the sites of ditch-surrounded villages. marshes were drained, bridges were built, and rivers banked; forests were cleared and waste lands reclaimed. more than all, the land was tilled and rendered productive, so that britain became the most important grain province of the empire. romans found in britain a scant supply of corn, grasses on which the cattle fed, wild plums, a few nuts and berries. they brought to britain fruits and vegetables from many lands beyond the seas; from italy gooseberries, chestnuts, and apples; walnuts from gaul; apricots, peaches, and pears from asia. paved roads webbed the island, wide and well-drained, by which bodies of troops could be massed at any given point with incredible rapidity. fortifications were built and in the north walls of solid masonry were thrown across the country from the oceanus ibernicus to the oceanus germanicus, for the determent of common foes. that upon which rome once set her seal could never wholly lose the mark; must remain bound to her by ties, which, stretching across the centuries, would link the future to the past. in spite of the bitterness of her defeat and ruin, and because she still was rome, she was mighty enough to leave precious gifts to the peoples who should come after her. to britain, because britain had been her own, she left many legacies great and small: the sonorous richness of her speech, soon corrupted to make for a new world a new speech as noble; and more than all, she left the word of her mighty law, proudest monument ever reared by mortal hands to a nation's glory. rome's sons builded well for her; and the labor of their hearts and hands was not for the day alone, but for the ages. towns yet to rise upon the ashes of her stately cities would find their model in her municipal government, and in her laws concerning the taxation of land and the distribution of personal and real estate. old customs she left to be handed down to those who should sit in her sons' places,--the luctus of widows, who for a full year of widowhood might not wed again; the names of her deities she gave to the days of the planetary week. her superstitions and folk-lore, deep-rooted, survived and lingered long among many nations: the old sorcery of the waxen image of an enemy transfixed by bodkins for the torment of that enemy; the belief in the were-wolf (one of the oldest of roman traditions); the association of the yew tree with mourning and the passing of human souls. britain, with all her virgin wealth unmined, furnished rome with enormous food supplies; sent many thousand men to serve with roman armies on the continent; and received the colonists, called auxiliaries, brought thither in accordance with rome's invariable policy of transplanting to the land of one nation captives from another. thus the population of britain, composed of people from nearly every race or tribe which has been subdued by rome, was strangely heterogeneous, yet as strangely fused. it was romanized; the national individuality of its units was lost in that of their conqueror. but as rome destroyed the nationality of her captives, so in time she inevitably destroyed her own. if they were romanized, she was gothicized and gaulicized. but by this means only was the circulation of her life-currents maintained to the uttermost branches of the empire. that great empire, age-old, rotting inwardly almost to decay, was vitalized, as it were galvanically, against her approaching dissolution by the blood of her colonies. in the throes of hierarchical government, torn by three irreconcilable religions,--polytheistic, julian or augustan, and christian,--she had no strength to spare for these outsiders when her own life was at stake. the story of roman britain is the old story which history repeats down all the ages: rome sacrificed one part of europe that the whole might not be lost, and offered up the few for the good of the greater number. for in those dark days from the second century of the christian era until near the close of the fifth, when came the last stage of the struggle and the extinction of the empire of the west, the world seemed tottering to its ruin. kingdoms shook and crumbled to their fall; new powers strove headlong for their seats; men found themselves harried on all sides, with no pause for respite, and harried again in turn. they did not understand; they knew only that fierce unrest possessed all the earth, manifesting itself in the terrible wandering of the nations, which was to culminate in a new world and a new order of things. small wonder that bewildered folk, swept on and overwhelmed in the maelstrom of world-wide turbulence, unknowing what must happen next, predicted and believed that with the year 999 the end of the world would surely come. they had good reason for such belief. at rome the fierce tribes from northern europe could no longer be held back. goths, vandals, huns, each in their own good time had joined in the attack. rome the mighty, the eternal, invincible as fate, whose power no man believed could have an end, was brought to bay at last, impotent, drained by internal sores, goaded and tortured by foes without, with a horde of wolfish barbarians snarling and snapping at her throat. from one distant province after another her legions were called home. the fated twelve centuries of her power were ended; the direst tragedy of history had begun. britain, with all her fear and hatred of the heavy roman hand, had yet been secure from outer harm while the strength of that hand was with her. for in the north were skulking bands of picts and scots, lawless and undisciplined, seized with the contagion of excitement which stirred their neighbors. in the south were saxons, the terrible men of the short knives; about the coasts to east and south were bands of pirates, jutes and saxons both. driven from their own lairs, they could but seek new resting-places; and britain was the only spot where they might obtain a foothold. these rovers the roman legions had held long years in check; yet it was told that soon the troops would be recalled to rome's defence. none believed that britain would be left wholly to herself; for rome was too far away for her full peril to be brought home to those whose own affairs kept their hands well filled. but in the tenth year of the fifth century across the sea came letters from honorius the emperor, urging the cities of britain to provide for their own defence, since rome could no longer send them aid. and for britain this was the slow beginning of the end. there followed then invasion after invasion of barbarians, which the cities, forever quarrelling among themselves, were forced to unite in repulsing. the saxons thus overcome, ended usually by settling in roman cities under roman government peaceably enough until the next attack by their countrymen, in which they invariably joined. by the year 420 angles and saxons had gradually established themselves on the eastern and southeastern coasts, while other allied tribes constantly harassed the western districts. since the second century rome's army in britain had dwindled to four legions. at deva, in the west, was the twentieth legion, holding in check the fierce mountain tribes of the silures, and, with the second, farther south, at isca silurum, keeping at bay the pirates who at times sailed up the broad sabrina on plunder bent. in the north, at eboracum, was the famous sixth, within quick reaching-distance of valentia and caledonia. at ratæ was the ninth, guarding the low country and the eastern fens. but after the emperor's letter, the ninth and the twentieth sailed away, and the proconsul at eboracum perforce sent part of his own troops to fill their places. two years later, the sixth was recalled. and then the consul abandoned eboracum, that great city which since its foundation had been the seat of government for all the land, and with his forces moved farther south, leaving it deserted. but not for long. for caledonians and saxons came down from the north and occupied it, and settled there to stay. and after that, whenever romans left the northern towns, seeking greater security in the southward provinces, the barbarians advanced and took possession, and thus gained the foothold for which they had been struggling ever since the conquest. and so the coming of the end was hastened. those later days of the departure of the troops were stirring days. the island, governed by the lords of the cities, each in feudal independence, had shaken off the leading-strings of rome. it was wealthy; as yet it was prosperous; the advance of the barbarians, though it might be sure, was slow. when rome's troubles were past, she would send her troops again, and the invaders would be driven out for good and all. yet there were many folk abroad in those days, asking anxious questions, filled with responsibility and care. and ever and again, along the great white roads, a cohort would go flashing past, lined up to full number, gallant in fighting trim, with standards flying, and eyes set always southward, toward the sea and rome. * * * * * there were many other folk upon the busy highways,--an endless procession that went and came. pack-horses, war chariots, slaves and soldiers, nobles, merchants, and artificers, men with goods to sell and men without,--a motley throng from many lands. nicanor, shy and fierce-eyed and of shaggy hair, tramping steadily southward in the wake of the swift-footed soldiers, felt that the world was a very mighty place, and never had he dreamed of such great people. as he drew nearer londinium, the traffic and the bustle increased. more troops kept coming up; and again others passed them, going down. and now, among the low hills, he caught glimpses of fair and stately houses gleaming among wooded groves; and there were huts of plastered mud, straw-thatched, where dwelt gaunt, collared slaves. on either side of the road were broad meadows where sheep were grazing; and ploughed fields where men and women stood yoked like cattle and strained to the cut of the ploughman's lash; and quarries where men toiled endlessly under heart-breaking loads, driven on by blows and curses. these were the things which nicanor had known all his life, for his father worked, and his mother. but when he met a fat and perfumed man, riding upon a milk-white mule, with servants before and behind him, and beasts of burden bearing hampers,--then nicanor could not understand. he bowed before the fat man deeply, thinking him the great lord governor himself; and men by the roadside laughed and mocked him. so that he fought them, and came out of his second conflict very valiantly, with a closed eye and a lip badly cut. and so, in the fulness of time, he came to the last day of his journey. it was a gray day, touched with the smoky breath of autumn, with all the country veiled in softest haze. it was very early morning, and few people were upon the road, although since the first light of dawn men had been working in field and forest. from a farmhouse off the road came the crowing of a cock and the creak of a cumbrous handmill hidden in a thick copse near by. nicanor, sitting by the roadside where he had slept, ate the food remaining overnight in his wallet, and rolled his sheepskin cloak into a bundle for his shoulders. behind him, from the road, came a man's voice, suddenly, singing a rollicking drinking-song. the singer brought up beside nicanor, a black-haired man in a soiled leather jerkin and cap of shining brass, with a matted beard and narrow eyes, and a great leaf-shaped sword swinging at his thigh. this one hailed him heartily, in a loud voice. "good youth, canst tell me where i am?" "why, yes," said nicanor, proud to display his knowledge of the locality. "this be the street a saxon man at ad fines named to me eormen--" "ad fines? thirty miles from londinium? now i could have sworn that yesternight i was in tripontium, thrice thirty miles from there. i was there yesterday--or maybe that time a week ago. 'tis a small failing of mine to go where i do not mean to go, and know not how i get there, when the wine is in me. but this way will do, and now i am so far upon it, i may as well go farther." he sat down beside nicanor. "dost know of any lord would have a fine stout serving-man?" he said with a wheedle. "one who can carve, be it swine or human, skilled with sword or sling, who can drive a chariot, pair or single-span?" "not i," nicanor answered. "i be a stranger in these parts." "bound for londinium?" asked the black-haired man. "nay, for the christian church of saint peter's, on thorney which is called the isle of brambles," said nicanor, without guile. "why, then, i'll go there too," the stranger said amiably. "for i am most devilishly lost, driven from town and camp, the first time sober in a week; and money i must gain, or starve. eh, bacchus! the women--the women!" he sighed, shaking his black head dolefully. "what concern had they with it?" nicanor wished to know. "did they turn thee out from camp and town?" "ay, boy, turned me out and turned me inside out," said the black-haired man, and grinned. "never a little copper ass have i left upon me. see, now, our paths lie in the same direction, since my path is any path. shall we go together? for i swear i'll not get lost again. behold me, valerius, sometime of the ninth legion at ratæ, now, by the grace of god, of no legion at all. i have my tablet of discharge from service; a follower of fortune you see me, with my sword as long as the purse of him who hires it." nicanor, half shy, half pleased with his new acquaintance, told in turn his name and station. "thou and i will be good friends," the soldier said. "i love a lad of spirit, such as thou. i'll fight for thee and thou shalt steal for me. 'tis a fair division of labor. hear you how my tongue waggeth? for a week it hath been sleeping off the wine, and now that it be sober again, it runneth by itself. come, friend, art ready?" on the way valerius talked irrepressibly, with many strange oaths and ejaculations, mixing his religions impartially. he told weird tales of life in camps and teeming cities, so that nicanor's blood tingled, and he longed to go also and do these things of which he heard. the tales of valerius did not always hang together, but nicanor cared not at all for that. by and by valerius took to asking questions, his tongue in his cheek at some of nicanor's replies. in half an hour he had learned the boy's life, deeds, and ambitions, and had extracted a promise that nicanor would get the worthy tobias to provide him also with employment, preferably around the church, where would be fat pickings and little work. at noon they ate by the roadside with two kindly disposed merchants, and later continued on their way, meeting other folk, with whom valerius passed the time of day. so, toward sunset, they came with many others ahorse and afoot, to thorney, the isle of brambles, at the foot of the road. and here nicanor thought he had never seen anything so wonderful, and stood staring wide-eyed, while valerius hummed his drinking-song and chewed a piece of metyl leaf, which turned his lips and teeth quite red. for here the country broadened out into a great marsh, vast and spreading widely over the land, dotted with eyots, where birds flew low among the sedge. away to west and east were low grim hills, with a sense of unending space and loneliness upon them. and at the foot of the street was the ford, crowded here with men,--soldiers and serfs and freedmen,--with horses and mules and heavy carts. through the ford they all went splashing; and it was wide and shallow, marked out by stakes and with stepping-stones showing above the water. and beyond the ford, under the gray skies, was thorney, the bramble isle, alive with a swarming throng of people. on the right of the island was saint peter's church, upon the spot where next saint peter's abbey, and centuries later the great westminster, would stand. it rose silent in a smother of confusion and a babel of noise of men shouting, and horses neighing, and the songs of boatmen on the tamesis which bounded the southern end of the island. there was a temple of apollo close beside it, for old gods and new dwelt side by side. to the ancient faith of their pagan fathers the aristocracy of britain still held true; the new god was for slaves and humble folk, who had derived no benefits from the old creeds and were willing to try any which promised help. and old rome had seen the rise and fall of many gods, for she was aged and very wise. jupiter, best and greatest, isis, mithras, astarte, serapis--what was one more or less in her pantheon? around the church was a formless huddle of houses, thinning out and straggling at the water's edge; and fires were blazing here and there, and men were hurrying to set all in order for the night. for thorney was a halting place where travellers from north and south and east and west rested a space and went their way,--a noisy, crowded place, where centred traffic for all britain passing to and from londinium, the great port, and the greater inland cities. all of this nicanor took in with delighted eyes. he ran down to the ford, dodging between pack-mules and jolting two-wheeled carts, and slipping eel-like past other pedestrians, forgetting valerius, who hurried after. he strode from stone to stone, splashed by straining horses that tugged beside him, and sprang to shore upon the island. so he won to his journey's end. "now to find that good man tobias," quoth valerius, and shook his wet feet daintily, as a cat that has stepped by accident in a puddle. "he will give thee food and lodging, which thou wilt share with me--so? knowest thou his house? jesus, lord! did ever man see the like of the nest of houses? hey, friend!" he laid a hand on the shoulder of one passing. "canst tell us where dwells the worthy tobias, worker in ivory to the christian church?" "nay, not i," the man said, and hurried on. over his shoulder he called back: "ask the good priest yonder." valerius doffed his brazen cap to this holy man. he, in frock of sober gray, with head shaven to the line of the ears, and worn, pale face, walked toward the church, his beads swinging by one finger. at valerius's question he looked up. "the house next the open space on the right," he answered; raised two fingers in benediction upon them, and went his way. valerius and nicanor betook themselves to the house appointed. it was then that nicanor began to realize that he wished himself alone. valerius hung to his arm affectionately, and nicanor was too shy to shake him off. he did not know what to do; wherefore he did nothing. the house next the open space was low, of stone and timber. it was evident that tobias was well-to-do. valerius pounded upon the door; the heavy shutter of a window swung open, and a man's head peered out. it was a pink head, very bald, with flabby cheeks, a full-moon face, and pursed lips, and the beaked hebraic nose of his father's race. "who comes?" the man asked, and stared at them. nicanor said: "art thou tobias, the ivory carver?" and the pink head nodded. then nicanor said: "from rathumus and susanna his wife i come, and i am nicanor, their son, and would be prentice to thee." "and valerius, thy friend," whispered valerius, plucking at his sleeve. "and valerius, my friend," said nicanor, obediently. "why, holy saints!" tobias said. "from susanna--and would be prentice to me! hold a minute till i let thee in." his pink head disappeared and the shutter slammed. soon the door was opened, and tobias welcomed them to his house. and a very good house it was, for tobias was wealthy. he called his slave, and she brought food and wine, and they sat at the trestled board on cross-legged stools and ate until they could eat no more. then tobias asked questions, and nicanor told of his home and of his parents and of his mother's words, while valerius, full-fed, dozed with his head on the table. and as nicanor talked, tobias watched him, for to save his life the boy could not open his mouth without a tale coming out of it; and when he had ended tobias rose and kissed him on both cheeks, and said: "thou'lt stay with me, boy, and learn all that i can teach thee, until thou'rt master-workman. and thou shalt live with me, and be my son, for sake of her who is thy mother--and it is not my fault that thou art not my son in very truth. marry, but thou hast a silver tongue in that shock head of thine. now come to bed; thy friend here is snoring like an ox. and in the morning we'll begin work, and one of my lads shall tell thee what to do." so they roused up valerius and took him off to a room with one window and a bed. and here valerius, slipping out of his baldric, pulled the blanket from the bed, flung himself, dressed as he was, upon the floor, and was instantly as one dead. iv but nicanor went to the window and opened the wooden shutter and leaned out. he heard the roar of the many camps, blending into one vast undercurrent of sound; he caught the red gleam of fires half hidden behind intervening houses; now and then a bellowed chorus reached him. also there were sweet tinkling sounds, of a kind which he had never heard before, which thrilled him strangely. sudden desire took him to be out in the midst of this new stirring life; to see the crowded places, the mingling of many men. preparations for the night were going on, for it was dark by now, with high twinkling stars. he could see, by leaning far out, the moving glare of torches held high as belated wayfarers crossed the ford, the reflection of the lights dancing on the shallow waters. the fascination of it, this his first sight of life, gripped him, not to be denied. he sprang to the ledge of the window, writhed himself through, and dropped to the ground outside. then, at once, he was in a new world,--a world of flickering flames and black dancing shadows, and strange sights and sounds, and restless figures passing always to and fro. and, quite dazed, he stumbled against one, not a rod from the house, who laughed, with a laughter which made him think of the tinkling music he had heard, and beckoned him, drawing him in the darkness. but nicanor, thrilling through all the awakening soul and body of him, turned and ran, shy suddenly, but at what he did not know. so he came to a fire burning in a ring of stones; and around the fire men were sitting, eating and drinking, and the light played on their faces. with them were women, at whom nicanor stared agape. for they were very fair to look on, with jewel-bound hair and slumberous eyes, lithe as snakes, with bare shoulders and dress of strange clinging stuffs. these were dancing girls, being taken to the great inland cities for sale or hire. and near by, huddled close for warmth, were slaves,--men, women, and children, chained in long strings, on the way to be sold in gaul. here were fishermen, also, and boatmen, gathered by themselves, a noisy crew, with loud jokes which nicanor heard and did not understand. all about him was a babel of voices and laughter, boisterous and profane; now and then an altercation, short and violent. it went to nicanor's head like wine. never had he known anything like it; life like this had passed his bleak northern home entirely by. he drew nearer the groups around the fire, drinking it all in greedily,--new sights, new sounds, new impressions. his face was flushed with excitement, his breath came short; so much he found to interest him that he stared bewildered, uncertain what to look at first. the smell of cooking food was in the air, mingled with the aromatic pungency of many fires of wood. horn cups clashed; at intervals hoarse laughter drowned the shouts of teamsters and the creak and strain of wheels. and suddenly, under the intoxication of it all, nicanor found himself speaking in a new, fierce mood of exultation. what he was going to say he did not know; but his voice fell into the old measured chant, regular as the tramp of marching feet, which carried through all the tumult of sound around him. his heart beat hard, his hands clenched, but he flung back his head with eyes which glittered in the firelight. those nearest looked on him in amazement, ready to scorn. then they held silent, and listened. others drew closer, to see what might be going on. more came, and more. women left men's knees and joined the little crowd, smiling, then with parted lips of wonder. nicanor neither saw nor heard them. for the first time in all his life he was carried beyond himself; in a physical ecstasy he spoke out that which clamored at his lips, caring nothing for his audience, unconscious of them utterly. and because that is the one thing which will grip men's minds and compel them, he held them spellbound, in spite of themselves,--until, abruptly, in a flash, he became conscious of himself, seeing himself, hearing himself. that moment he lost his hold of them. and he knew it, and stopped short. and for an instant there was silence. then a woman drew a long breath which was like a sigh, and a man muttered something into his beard. the spell snapped; and like a flood let loose their talk leaped at him. they shouted, "more!" they would know who he was, and whence he came, and he must finish the tale for them. but nicanor shook his head, dumbly, with a new and strange emotion surging through him. he was frightened at himself, at his feeling, at what he had done. and back of his fear lay something deeper, something which he could not name,--half exultation, half truest awe, as though he stood in a presence mightier than he and knew himself for but the tool with which the work was wrought. there came a woman, very wonderful, and hot as flame, and put into his hand a broad piece of silver, looking into his eyes. a man with a broken nose thrust a copper coin into his palm; others followed. for a moment he stood staring at the fire-lit faces around him like one foolish or in a trance, with his own face quite white. that he might receive money for his soul had never entered his head. then he broke away from them all and ran--ran as though for his life--back to the house of tobias, and clambered through the low window and flung himself upon the bed, laughing and sobbing and shaking, and clutching his coins in sweating hands. for he had entered into his heritage at last, and the future had become the present. v the working-place of master tobias was a small room half underground, with three windows on a level with the street. long boards on trestles were ranged upon three sides, leaving the centre free; these were much chipped and scarred, and black with oil and dirt. on these tables were small list-wheels for polishing, formed of circular thicknesses of woollen stuff clamped tightly between two wooden disks of smaller diameter which left a pliant edge of wool projecting, held firmly in wooden frames and turned by hand. there were trays of tools for carving and graving and scraping, and boxes of fine sand and of glass-parchment. in a corner was a grindstone; and the unclean floor was littered with sawdust and scrapings of bone. here half a dozen men were working, in oil-stained aprons of leather. the wheels hummed continuously, with a steady droning; at intervals the great saw shrieked and grated; from the storeroom a boy brought long tusks ready for the first cutting. men have worked in ivory before ever history began, and of all known arts it is the most ancient and one of the most beautiful. and no two master-workmen have gone about it after precisely the same manner, but each has followed his own method of treating the bone, of cutting, which is a delicate business, of smoothing, and of polishing. at different ages widely differing means were employed to bring about the same effect. there were many curious things to be learned in the way of what and what not to do,--how to treat bone with boiling vinegar, and secret processes of rolling out ivory and joining it invisibly, for the making of larger pieces than could possibly be cut from any one tusk. lost secrets, these, to us; and being lost, by many doubted as having ever been. these things master tobias had learned, many years before, from a workman of byzantium, where the work was already famous, and far and away ahead of all. this man, dying, had left master tobias all he knew, and tools such as never otherwise could he have obtained. so that the fame of master tobias went abroad through the province; and he did much work in the way of tablets, diptychs, caskets, figures of gods and goddesses and of christian saints. many a carven comb and jewel-box found its way to some haughty roman beauty's dressing-table, the work of master tobias's own fat hands. he found good markets for his wares, since roman love of bijouterie was strong, and he had few competitors. it was not until the establishment of saxon dominion that the art obtained a permanent foothold in britain; and then it went back to its first crude beginnings, as did nearly all other things at that second conquest. so behold nicanor, bare-armed and in leathern apron, carrying tusks to and fro, cleaning them after their arrival from the merchants' hands, and giving them out to the workmen as required. thus he came to learn the various shades of coloring; how to tell when bone was healthy and might be expected to take the cutting well, or when it would be apt to crack and split under the saw. having come to know the differences in degree, he was put to checking off the lots as they arrived, according to kind and grade. mammoth tusks of elephants, sometimes ten feet in length, weighing close on a hundred pounds, solid to within six inches of the tip; teeth and tusks of the wild boar, walrus-bone and whale-bone, used for coarser work and filling,--all these he must tell apart at a glance. for to the untrained, bone is bone. this was light work, and left him time to watch what others did; whereby, quite unconsciously, he absorbed much useful knowledge, which was as master tobias intended. then, being well acquainted with color and texture and grain, he was put to help with the big saw, coarse-toothed, worked by two men, and had to learn to cut his lengths to a fraction of an inch as required, with the least possible waste. this took him some time, for a bone is full of twists and turns which render it liable to be cut to pieces, so that much care is needful. so he went up, step by step, knowing well each detail before he undertook the next, until at last he began to work under master tobias's own eye. and then, for the first time, having acquired an insight into the art, was he able to appreciate the skill of the master-workman. and this is the way of all art from the beginning, and as it must be to the end, since only he who knows may understand. in long course of time, when many months had gone, came the day when he brought forth his own first work, a crucifix, the fruit of his own labors, touched by no other hands from first to last. himself he selected the tusk, flawless, finely grained; cut it to the block, shaped it, the upright of the cross, the arms, the rough outline of the christ upon it. then, bit by bit, cutting, cutting, cutting, the figure grew, with rounding outlines, and coherent features. the straining ribs,--for this effect he cut against the grain, in the way that master tobias had taught him,--the pierced hands and feet, the draped cloth about the loins; slowly it formed under his eager fingers. he smoothed it with glass-parchment, polished it on the list-wheel; in the end painted it, with red lips and crimson drops of blood and draping of richest purple. and he chose that christian symbol solely because, out of all the subjects offered by master tobias, it presented fewest difficulties in the matter of draperies--greatest stumbling block to all novices. so it was finished, and became the pride of his life,--but not for what it was; only for that it was the work of his own hands. had it been an offering to apollo he would have loved it just as well. and when he had finished it, master tobias kissed him upon either cheek, even as he had done once before, and declared that he could die happy, for he should have a successor to keep his art alive. but all this took much time; and meanwhile nicanor was learning many things besides the art of carving. when he was in the humor for it, nicanor could work very well indeed, as he had shown. but more often than not he was sadly out of humor; and liked nothing so much as to slip away from the hum and drone of the wheels and the smell of bone and oil, and wander out of the quiet church precinct down to the busy life at the fords. here was unending amusement; all day long he would watch the going and the coming, listen to the uproar of traffic, silent himself or mingling with the crowds. day after day narrow barges went up the tamesis with the tide from the port of londinium, deep-laden with wines and spices, silks, glass, candles, and rich stuffs from foreign lands; with lamps and statuary and paintings for the great roman houses; with fruits and grain, vegetables, meats and poultry. and at the ebb came the barges down again, this time with wool and pelts, smelling villanously and tainting all the air as they went by. here also was the river-ford, passable at low tide, marked out by stakes, and leading from the southern side of thorney, opposite the marsh-ford, over to the mainland, where again the road began and stretched away to londinium. here the fisher-folk cast their nets for salmon in their season, for other fish in plenty the year round, shouting across to the bargemen passing up or down. these, besides the few priests and servants of saint peter's church, and the keepers of the inns, were the only ones who lived upon the bramble isle. all others came and went, and never stayed save for a night. day after day came craftsmen, traders of all kinds, merchants with bundles of hides on pack-horses to be shipped at dubræ; mimes, actors, musicians, jugglers. crested-helmeted cohorts, with glancing shields and bristling spears, splashed through the fords on their way south, stern dark-faced men from many nations. long strings of slaves, who then as later formed so large a part of britain's export trade, were marched with clanking chains along the highways. always was color, life, movement, the clamor of voices, the rumble of wheels; a constant stir, ceaseless, pulsing, feverish. it was small wonder, then, that nicanor, alive in every fibre of his eager being, thirsting for adventure, should escape from the workshop's confinement as often as might be, to watch and wonder at the passing show. also it was small wonder that master tobias did not like such rovings of his pupil, and openly disapproved. with reason he argued that if a man would make his work worth while he must stick to his bench and tools. but nicanor, at such times, cared little whether or not he made that work worth while. at his bench he was restless, fretting to be gone. only outside, amid hurrying men and the confusion of arrival and departure, was he at peace, entirely happy and content. and this was but natural, since young dogs strain always at the leash, and as his fate had written. but this, master tobias, bound heart and soul to his beloved task, could not understand. being both fiery, they clashed often, when dire confusion followed. upon these occasions, master tobias, purple with wrath, brandished his burin and raved. nicanor was an ingrate; nicanor was a fool and a good-for-naught, who deserved everlasting punishment and would surely get it. and nicanor, white-hot within and silent,--two years before he would have screamed with rage like any other infuriate young wild thing,--laid aside his tools and left the work-room, his head in air, his jaws set like steel to a thin smile, his wrath blazing all the fiercer for being dumb. not until he found himself with a circle of gaping faces around him, hanging on his words, would his anger cool and his world right itself to normal. then, his steam worked off, himself peaceful and serene, he would return to the house for supper, meet master tobias's menacing growls with demure politeness, and forthwith charm him into abject surrender with diabolical art. so peace would be restored, with the combatants firmer friends than ever--until the spirit within him moved nicanor once more. and yet,--for this is as it always happens,--each fresh quarrel was fiercer than the one before. it was after one of these passages-at-arms that nicanor, losing his temper completely, spoke to master tobias as he had never dared speak before. and then, foolishly bound to keep the last word, strode off in a fume, out of the church grounds, through the huddle of houses and crowd of passing folk, whose clamor put him yet more out of sorts, and down to the river-ford. here he paused, kicking up the earth with the toe of his laced leather shoe, in a very evil temper, wanting only something to vent his spleen upon. and standing thus, he heard all at once an outcry behind him, and wheeled, and saw a thing which made him forget his grievance and consider that after all he was more lucky in his lot than some. at first he saw only a crowd of men and boys, who jeered and hooted. this was a sight not new; but in their midst he caught a glimpse of a crested helmet and the black cloak of a slave-driver. and then the crowd parted, and nicanor saw a girl, a lean wisp of a thing, with burning eyes and a gray face framed in straight black hair, with chained wrists and a ragged frock which slipped aside to show a long red welt across her brown shoulders. the slave-driver held the end of the chain, his heavy whip tucked beneath one arm,--a squat man with a black and brutal face and small hard eyes. he was appraising the girl's good points glibly, as though of a mare to be sold,--her working strength, present perfections, future possibilities. the soldier, wax tablets and stylus in hand, his back half turned to nicanor, made notes of what he said, at intervals throwing in a comment or a question. "from the north, you say?" "ay, lord, born of a roman soldier and a british wench. a good investment, noble sir, and the price but small,--only five-and-fifty sestertii,--and that because i give thanks to be rid of her." "hath she spirit, fire? i want not a puny, slinking chit." "spirit--fire!" the man repeated with a curse. "if that be what you wish, lord, it is here in very flesh. this young she-devil hath given me as much trouble as three men." the soldier fumbled for his pouch and counted money into the dealer's hand. the latter counted it again, spat upon it for luck, made his mark in the roman's book, and unchained the girl's wrists. the roman laid a hand on the shoulder of his bargain. "come, pretty one!" said he, and turned, so that for the first time his face was to be seen. "thou'lt get no more blows nor curses, if so be thou'lt do thy duty well." leering, he drew her forward. nicanor cast a glance upon him, and started, and hailed him. for the roman was valerius, the errant one; and what he wanted with a slave girl who had no beauty, and where he got her price, was more than nicanor could tell. valerius, still with a hand on the girl's shoulder, grinned at him, and said: "why, now, friend, 'tis a very good day that brings thee to my sight. not since i was repairer of sandals to the good fathers--thanks to thee--have i seen thee, though i hunted the place over for thee, and mourned right tenderly when i found thee not. and that was near a year ago." and always, though his speech was pleasant, as he spoke he moved away, sidling, with a certain stealthiness, a glinting of his narrow eyes from side to side. nicanor became interested, and followed a pace. the girl stared at him with desperate dumb eyes. "thou hast made a good purchase," he said carelessly, and thought that for an instant the other showed his teeth. "not for myself!" valerius said humbly. whether it suited him, for motives of his own, to play the worthy poor man, nicanor could not tell. "i but act on behalf of my lord eudemius, of the great white villa off the noviomagus road, this side of londinium--hey, now! by all the furies, what is this?" for the gray-faced girl, with hunted eyes, flung herself suddenly from his hand, crying in a hoarse croak of a voice: "not for him! not for the lord eudemius, the torturer! i am not bought for him!" again nicanor found himself staring, for there was fear and anguish in her voice such as he had never heard in human tones. and as they looked at her in amazement, she rocked from side to side, sobbing without tears, and whispering keenly: "not for him! ah, dear christ in heaven! not for him!" "and why not?" valerius demanded. "what hast thou against him that his name sends thee squealing--" "what against him?" the girl said fiercely. "he tortures--he mutilates--he strips flesh from living bones, and laughs! let a slave raise an eyelid in his presence, and he were better dead. ay, i know--i know! i will not go to him! i will drown--choke--hang myself first!" she glared around her as though to seek deliverance where none was. valerius shook her roughly by the arm. "thou'lt come with me and hush thy whining!" they had reached a lane between the houses, unpaved, trampled hard and uneven by many feet. this lane was known then as the street of the black dog; and it ended abruptly at the low stone wall which here marked the boundary of saint peter's land. by the wall, at the head of the street, was one of the rude stone crosses which were raised at intervals around the walls and at every gate therein. this was forty or fifty yards ahead of them as they stood. as valerius touched the girl she sprang away from him and fled forward up the street, with head thrown back and torn rags fluttering and her black hair streaming behind her in a cloud. valerius shouted and plunged after her, a hand outstretched with clutching fingers. and after them went nicanor, his eyes alight with the lust of the chase, the fierce joy of the hunting, old as mankind itself. as valerius snatched at a rag on the girl's shoulder, he gave a sharp yelp of triumph, as a hound yells when its leash-mate has nipped the fox. but the rag tore away as the girl struggled free. she reached the head of the street, a flying figure of terror, with the black-browed roman at her heels and nicanor racing alongside; staggered, recovered, stumbled again even as he touched her, and fell forward at the foot of the stone cross, with a sob like that of a horse ridden to the death, clasping the column with both hands and crying: "i claim sanctuary! i claim sanctuary!" then her head fell forward on her outflung arms, and she lay with thin shoulders heaving to her fighting breath, and her face hidden in her tangled mane. valerius stopped, almost in his stride, all but overrunning her, so close upon her had he been. he shook his balled fist and cursed her, glaring down upon her, not daring to touch so much as a strand of hair. for she was in the shelter of holy church; and few men were bold enough to violate that terrible, wonderful law of sanctuary which even then was beginning to be dreaded and respected, and which high and low might claim alike. so that valerius walked in half-circles about her, like a baffled beast which sees its prey torn from its very jaws; and she lay and shuddered, and nicanor stood watching with avid eyes. for as yet he was only a very primitive young animal, with the instinct of his kind to join with the hunter against the hunted. people began to gather, quickly, clamoring with question and theory; and upon these valerius scowled, biting his nails in fury. the girl raised herself, crouching close beneath the cross, and looked around her like a trapped thing, crying: "a priest! is there no christian priest here who will tell this man that i be safe from him in sanctuary?" valerius pulled nicanor to him. "go thou and find one," he said harshly; "for while she sticketh to this cross i dare not lay finger upon her lest i be torn limb from limb by fools. he can but give her up; for she is bought and paid for, and it is not hers to say whether she finds her master to her liking. and quick with thee, that i may get her where she cannot fly again." so nicanor went swiftly through the nearest gate into the yard of the church, and looked about him for a priest. and it seemed to him that the more hasty grew his search, the less was it rewarded, for he was in a desperate hurry to get back and see what followed. presently, ahead of him, he saw a priest, whom he knew as father ambrose, and he ran to him, shouting: "holy father, a slave hath claimed sanctuary at the cross by the street of the black dog, and asketh for a priest to confirm her right." the good father kilted up his gown, and together they ran through the nearest byway to that street. and then, quite suddenly, as they reached the end of it, nicanor felt with a shock that he must have mistaken the place. for although the cross was there, and the wall, and the street was the street of the black dog, yet there was no sign of the girl, nor of valerius, nor of any of those who had gathered to look on. so that nicanor turned to father ambrose with a face of pure fright, and stammered: "but i left them here, upon this spot! or else i am sure bewitched!" he looked to right and left and back to father ambrose. father ambrose shook his head and said passively: "it may be that they have arranged the matter among themselves. let us return." he walked off, placid and unstirred; and nicanor touched the cross to make sure that it was real and no delusion, and looked into the sky and around upon the clustered houses, and spoke no word at all. but he knew quite surely that the matter had not been arranged. ----------------------------------------------------------------------the garden of dreams book ii ----------------------------------------------------------------------book ii the garden of dreams i the years went on,--misty springs, golden summers, flaming autumns, winters stark and chill, leaving each its tale on the unrolling scroll of time. for in those years the consul departed from britain with his forces, and the cities ruled themselves, each in a state of feudal independence, now warring amongst themselves, now making common cause against their common foes. were history to write itself more often with a view to cumulative dramatic effect, there would be small need for the romance of imagination. one would have history a tale, of swift climax and excitement, when it is in fact a scattered medley--a battle here, a bit of statecraft there; here a burning rome, yonder a new god; and between these the commonplace round of human life and toil and death, the inevitable dead level of the tale. it is because of the long lapses between cause and effect, the revolutions slow and of secret tardy growth instead of by fire and sword, that men turn to imagination to bridge the gap. events, grand and stirring, woven, one believes, into the very fabric of history, are proved to be the pleasant tale of some ancient ardent romancer, with an eye for dramatic effect. and often it is the bit choicest and most intimate of detail, binding the chronicle into a dramatic whole, which the iron pick of research digs from the heap of bones, and wise men say: "that brilliant hero never lived; this great battle was but a skirmish; some old monk wrote that--it never happened." many a glowing jewel, cherished tenderly and shining bravely through the dust of ages, has turned, in the white light of knowledge, to worthless glass. so do the old gods perish. thus came the chronicle of saxon conquest down to us,--a brave and lusty tale, scarred with battles, written in blood, picturing a horde of savage foe-men that swarmed over the walls and swept through a blood-drenched land. in fact and deed, it was a conquest of absorption rather than extermination, dramatic only in its vast significance; a gradual amalgamation of two forces, in which the stronger, cleaner norse blood triumphed over worn-out and depleted roman stock. as weeds, rank and sturdy, overrun a garden, choking out other plants, so in britain, saxon life overgrew roman life, inch by inch, almost imperceptibly. the conquest was by no means bloodless. towns were sacked and men were slain; here was an explosion, there an outbreak of lawlessness; but for the most part the change was wrought with deadly slowness and a sureness which nothing could check. in these years nicanor grew tall and strong and long of limb, and his voice ceased to play him false with strange pipings which had filled him with wrath and dire dismay. he learned to use eyes and ears as well as tongue; he worshipped at the altars of strange gods, and laughed at them. he lived from day to day as the birds live, picking up a crumb here and yonder. in the workshop he spent as little time as might be, restless, not content with what he had, ever eager for that which he had not, devoured by the curiosity which would lay hands on the strange throbbing thing called life, and probe its inmost hidden meaning. and as time went on, the unrest deepened which possessed him. he was unhappy, and he could not tell why. he wanted something, and he knew not what. his shyness developed into fierce aggressiveness, unreasonable, alarming. he prowled continually among the camps, sullen and quarrelsome, vaguely miserable, and blaming his misery upon all the world. he took to spending much time, with small profit to himself, among the chained gangs of slaves, where were cruel sounds and crueller sights. at the hiss and cut of the lash on bared backs and thighs he thrilled with savage exultation; he took morbid delight in the sight of pain inflicted; and this he could not at all understand. at this season his tales were all of war and blood and violence, of treachery and despair. when night came he slept fitfully or not at all, with uneasy half-formed dreams. and in these dreams he was always searching for a thing which had no name, starting over the river-ford upon the high southern bank, ending nowhere under gray skies and desolation. he neglected his carving, waged bloody battles with his fellow workmen, bullied master tobias like any slave-driver. lonely and shy and sullen, he fought through his crisis by himself, not knowing that it was a crisis, nor why it had come upon him. no one took the trouble to help him; he would not have thanked them if they had. outwardly he was taller, more gaunt, with a certain rough virility which impressed. men knew that he was savage, and baited him even while they feared him; himself only knew that he was miserable,--more miserable, because he could not understand why he should be so at all. he lived the wild life of the camps, drinking, brawling, making fierce love with a vague notion that this was what he wanted, ever finding the fruit of desire change to ashes in his mouth. always the power within him grew; and always he despised those upon whom he wrought his magic. for it was nothing to master these, to do with them as he willed; all his art was lost upon them since they could not understand. he was then at work with master tobias upon a book-cover for the gospels, which was for saint peter's, and very much interested he was and pleased with his share in it. in the morning he went to work right willingly, with no thought other than to do as best he might with all his skill. so he got his tools, and the oil and glass-paper for the first polishing, and, master tobias not having yet appeared, started to go on himself with the bit of scroll he had begun the day before. seeing it with fresh eyes after a lapse of hours, it struck him that a change might be made in one place with much advantage from the design which they had planned. so he made the change, and was still more pleased. when master tobias entered, nicanor pointed to what he had done, and said: "is not this a better way, good sir? that corner needs balancing, and it is in my mind that the design should work up this way--" he illustrated with his burin--"and so bring into harmony--" and then it was that the unexpected happened. for master tobias rose from his stool and stood over him, and said: "hast thou changed the design i made?" nicanor replied that he had, and wished to show the advantage of his new idea. but master tobias struck his hand aside, and shrill with rage, exclaimed: "thou good-for-nothing clod! thou hast spoiled the work with thy clumsy handling! why canst not leave alone what thou dost not understand? who gave permission to change? body of me! must i stand over thee every hour in the day and switch thy hands for disobedience?" "but it is not spoiled!" nicanor protested with indignation. master tobias stormed. "i say it is! i say it is, and must be smoothed out and changed. and thou'lt stay within and do it, until all is as it was before. i'll show thee my designs are not to be altered thus unwarrantably!" and herein he made a mistake. for when he said "thou shalt!" nicanor's impulse was "i will not!" and as yet he acted upon impulse. master tobias could have flogged him if he wished; nicanor cared not a rap for flogging. he rose in open rebellion and pushed away his stool. "not i!" he said. "the design is false, and i will not put into my work what is not as it should be!" he turned and marched out of the room--leaving master tobias dumb with astonishment and rage--surly and savage and very bitter, with his hand against every man because he thought that every man's hand was against him. and then, quite suddenly, there swept over him the fierce, insistent longing for change which wrestles with every man at some time or other in his life; the hot desire to fling himself out of the rut into which that life inevitably must settle, to encounter anything, good or bad, so long as it brought a change. and because he was still too young to see that this is the very one thing which may not be; the one thing of which fate says: "come and go, and plan as ye will, but remember that i hold the leading-strings; for my name men call circumstance, and my law is that man shall do not what he will, but what he must,"--because as yet he could not see this, he left thorney that day for londinium, saying no word of his grievance to any man, with his bundle tied to a stick upon his shoulder. it was on the road to londinium that he overtook one journeying in the same direction, who kept pace with him persistently, let him go fast or slow. this was a venerable man, with a long beard of white, and wise, all-seeing eyes that smiled and smiled beneath the penthouse of his brows. nicanor came to hate him vindictively, with no reason at all, as he hated all the world just then. nicanor stopped at evening by the roadside, and sat down to eat the food he had brought with him. and this ancient man stopped also, and sat upon a stone near by, and watched him. nicanor, with meat and black bread in his hands, glanced up, ready to scowl, and met the old man's eyes, smiling at him. it was so long since any man had done other than revile him--since one's own mood will reflect itself like an image in clear water upon the minds of those around one--that nicanor was surprised into smiling back, uncertainly, it is true, but still smiling. then it was as though a bit of that outer crust of moroseness melted, and left something of his old boyish shyness in its place. without stopping in the least to think why he did it, he broke the bread and meat into two portions, and held out one, in silence, awkwardly, as a child who does not know whether his gift will be accepted or cast upon the ground. now if that old man, perhaps not understanding, had not taken what he offered, turning from him then, it must surely have been that nicanor would have shrugged his shoulders, and flung the food upon the road, and shut up once more within his shell of surliness, with his opinion of mankind fully justified in his own mind. but whether he wanted it or not, the old man took his gift, with eyes grave yet always smiling upon his lowering, half-shamed face, and said in a voice like a deep-toned bell, so clear was it and vibrant: "i thank thee, my son." he ate the food, slowly; and nicanor watched him slyly, as he ate his own supper, fancying himself vastly indifferent to all ancient smiling strangers. but deep down in his rough shy heart he was pleased for that he had succeeded in not turning another soul away from him--so small a thing has power to change the balance sometimes; and when the old man spoke he did not wish to repulse him, as often. the stranger said, quite as though he had a right to know: "son, art sure that it will be well for thee to go to londinium? is what thou seekest there?" nicanor answered with immense surprise: "i seek nothing." "so?" the old man said, and smiled. "now i thought that surely thou wert seeking something, and very near to black despair because thou hadst not found it." and at once, like an echo from another world, there came to nicanor the memory of a time when he had wandered seeking for something which he could not name, upon the downs, under gray skies and desolation. and he did not know if this had really happened or had been but a dream. but he began to think the old man very strange and rather to be feared. he said: "old man, how may you tell that i seek for what i cannot find; and why would it be not well for me in londinium?" the old man's face changed then, so that for an instant nicanor was frightened. for into it there came a high far look of utter peace, such as the face of a holy saint who has suffered all might wear, if he awakened. and while nicanor stared, not knowing what to think about it, the old man said gently: "son, i may tell by right of having known myself what thou art knowing now. for the faces of men are as an open scroll to those who have learned to read what is writ therein, and thy story is upon thee very clear. thou art in a world of thine own creation, but this world of men hath also claims upon thee, which thou canst not ignore. and i say to thee, go again to that place which thou hast left, for to find what thou art seeking, one need not go afield. and when thou hast found that thing, which is in this world of men, seek thou sanctuary, which is holy love." nicanor said: "i do not understand! what hath love to do with it?"--and told of the love that he had seen, which was all he knew. the old man listened, with unchanging eyes upon him, and said: "now truly i see thou dost not understand. this be not love, but a blast of furnace heat which scorcheth. but some time thou wilt come to understand the meaning of my words, and then shalt thou find sanctuary and peace. ay, peace--that is what men cry for in the dark days that are passing; and they shall seek refuge and find none, and the bitterness of death shall be upon them. for it shall be said even as by the prophet of babylon, mother of old evil--'rome the mighty is fallen--is fallen!'" he swayed gently as he sat, with hands uplifted and eyes no longer smiling; and to nicanor's eyes his long white beard and hair were as a mist of silver around his head. "thou also shalt pass through the valley, for the black dog of trouble is upon thee; and thou shalt work out thine own unhappiness and thine own salvation. for thy way is the way of loneliness, and of misunderstanding, and of the cross. and this is as it must be, since the price of heart's blood and heart's desire is pain, and for what thou gainest, thou must pay the price." he ceased, and his hands fell to his sides and his white head drooped. he leaned to nicanor, groping, old, and suddenly very feeble, and whispered: "son of men, i too have trod the path which thou art treading now. and i say to thee, seek thou sanctuary while yet there may be time, for no man knoweth what the end shall be. and when thou art entered in, all else on earth shall matter nothing, for thou shalt be at peace. this i know, o youth, and tell thee, for--i did not enter in." he rose and laid a withered hand on nicanor's bent, shaggy head. "unto each his own appointed work, and his own appointed fate, and the reward which he hath merited. now peace be with thee!" he turned away and passed onward into the falling night. thereafter the world unrolled itself between them, for they never met again. wrapped in his cloak, nicanor lay and stared at the stars above him, and pondered those things which he had heard. and, because again he could not understand, he put upon them his own interpretation. but he at once began to make a tale about that old man, with his silver beard and his smiling eyes; and so he fell asleep, thinking that that was all there was in it. when he awoke at break of dawn, he was inclined to think the whole a dream. but there was a new and softer mood upon him, greatly surprising to himself, and the black soul within him was tamed and stilled. so, in blindly superstitious obedience to the word of the strange old man, he turned his face away from londinium and all that he longed to find there, back toward the life which was his, and the work which was his, and the isle of brambles in the fords. and so came fate, hard following on his heels. ii for out of the gray mists of morning came soldiers, six or eight, with ring of weapons and shuffling thud of feet; and with them was a centurion in command. these overtook nicanor where he went slowly back toward thorney; and the centurion laid a rough hand upon him and bade him halt. nicanor turned; but before he could ask angrily why they had stopped him, his wrists were fast in handcuffs and he was a prisoner in chains. he turned upon the centurion. "now what is this? i have done no wrong. i demand release!" "demand if it please thee," the soldier said. "but in truth i think thee something more than fool to let thyself be thus caught doddering by the way. to escape once, and baffle all the great lord eudemius's searchers, and then be stumbled upon like any sheep--faugh! i expected better things of thee!" "now have i naught at all to do with the lord eudemius!" said nicanor. he explained, carefully, who he was, and whence he came and to whom he belonged, and they turned a deaf ear to him. he was the man they sought, even the slave of eudemius, escaped three days ago, with a reward out for his capture. this last explained it, but that nicanor could not know. they insisted that they were in the right; all he could say and do would not convince them otherwise. they skirted around londinium by a street lined widely with tombs, and struck a road leading south and slightly west, which the men, talking among themselves, named the noviomagus road. ten miles, and they reached the station known by that name, and here took horse, with nicanor mounted behind a guard. the road led through the neck of the great forest of anderida, and came out again into the open, and they followed it until three hours after noon. then they turned aside into a narrower branch road, and so rode easily for another hour until they entered a grove of ilex trees. to the farther end of this they came abruptly, and saw before them open country, a broad and gentle slope of hill; and on its summit a great stately house, white-walled, with outbuildings in the copse around it. in the centre of the blank wall of the front of the house which confronted them, was a gateway, with gates of bronze, and a porter's lodge. here the porter, looking through his wicket, asked their business, and, being told, directed them around to the rear. so they entered at another smaller gate, and were in a court, open to the sky and surrounded on all sides by buildings, where slaves were working. this, nicanor learned from the soldiers' talk, was in the quarters of the slaves. [illustration: "'were i that woman, i should have wanted to love him.'"] and here the centurion found the overseer, and talked with him long and earnestly. the overseer paid over the reward, and the centurion, as nicanor saw without at all understanding the transaction, returned certain broad pieces, which the steward hid away upon himself with a furtive glance around. the soldier then departed with his men, his tongue in his cheek; and the overseer came to where nicanor stood in chains, and looked at him. he was a very fat man, with little eyes sunk in unwholesome flesh, and was far haughtier than the great lord eudemius himself. when he saw nicanor's face, he began unexpectedly to curse and bluster, and said: "how now, fellow! is this a trick thou and thy mates have played upon me, to obtain my master's gold? thou art not he who escaped three days ago." but light had broken upon nicanor, and he answered: "so i told them, and so thou couldst have seen if thou hadst looked before thou didst pay--and receive back--thy master's gold. if this be thy practice, sure thy lord must be the poorer for thy loyal service!" but the overseer was talking very fast, without paying heed at all. "by my head, but this is a scurvy trick to play a man! but now thou art here, here shalt thou stay in that other's place; for it would go hard with me were my lord to learn that reward had been paid for nothing--and a slave is a slave to him." nicanor turned on him in a blaze of wrath, and the fat overseer, wary of the lean strength of him, called his men. "take him to the armorer's and have put upon him the collar. and on pain of punishment let no man say he is not the one who went away." so they put upon him the brazen collar of slaveship, with the name of eudemius engraved thereon; and set him to work among the household slaves. and he, being alone, was helpless, and could do no more than bide his time as best he might. but at first, when his bonds galled, he stormed, raging in fury at his impotence and the high-handedness of those who had betrayed him to his servitude. finding that this brought him but blows and curses, and was of no manner of good, he calmed down and simmered inwardly. then--and herein he surprised himself--he began to take an interest in this new life into which he had been cast. he had abiding faith in himself, and this is a thing of which every man has need; he was undergoing a new experience, which at the outset was interesting. when he became tired of it--well, he would then find means of escape. the work was not over hard, since there were many hands to lighten it; he was brought into contact with a magnificence of which he had never dreamed. as always, he kept his eyes and ears open; with his strange, sure prescience that all he could see and hear and know would be useful to him, somehow, somewhen, he set out to learn all he could of the life of the great mansion and of those who dwelt therein. so he found out many things; and one day he found varia, the great lord's daughter. the house was so vast that one might lose himself with ease among its many halls and courts and passages if he did not know its plan. nicanor, sent one day on an errand to the kitchens, reached them in safety; and then took the wrong way back, and found himself wandering in a part of the house new to him. this did not trouble him, for by then he was well known among the household servants, and was sure of soon meeting some one who would set him right. so, quite without thought, he pushed open a door at random, and then abruptly lost all his wits through sheer amazement and delight. for he was in a garden, beautiful to his eyes beyond all words, with broad terraces and gleaming marble steps where peacocks strutted; with at one end a fountain banked in a tangle of roses, where sprays of water fell with silvery splash and tinkle; with marble seats and statues gleaming from the cool gloom of trees. around the garden were high walls, vine-hung, with the surrounding buildings of the villa for a broken background. an untamed profusion of green life rioted here; pale flowers of night, whose fragrance hung heavy on the air, swam in a sea-green dusk; ivy clung and clambered along the crannies of gray walls; roses sprawled in a red torrent of perfume over the yellowing images of old gods and heroes. in one corner a placid lake gazed still-eyed at the sky, with white swans floating on its mirrored black and silver. nicanor drew breath with a quick pleasure which was almost pain; here one might think great thoughts and dream great dreams. for it was as a bit of that forgotten land of dreams, through which all men have journeyed, though the road to it is lost, with a glamour of mystery and a charm upon it which held him spellbound. out of the velvet shadow into the still evening light, one came toward him, in silence, with dark hair hanging in heavy braids on either side of her pale face, with dusky eyes and scarlet lips and jewels that glimmered in the folds of her perfumed robes. he bowed before her, keeping his eyes upon her face; for though he was a slave, he was first a man, and next a poet, which means a lover of all things beautiful, and he had never seen a woman like her in all his life before. "who art thou?" she said. and though she was a great lady and the daughter of that noble house, she was yet a girl, and scarce beyond her childhood, and she drooped her head before his glance. "nicanor, thy slave," he answered, but his voice was not a slave's voice. "why art thou here?" she asked him. "this is mine own place, where none but i and my women come." "i crave thy pardon, lady," he said; and told her how he came. in turn, her eyes rested on his face; and he, meeting them, felt his pulses leap to a sudden shock which sent the blood back pounding to his heart. for they were wandering eyes, awake and seeing, yet which slept, with no light of reason in them. so then he understood why the name of their lady was spoken throughout the household in hushed tones as of one dead; why she was so closely hidden from the eyes of the world. and she was the lady varia,--the lord eudemius's only child,--the last of his great house, fair, futile flower. "nicanor," she repeated, with a pretty halting on the word. her voice was low and dreaming, more tender than a dove's. "where have i heard that name? why, nerissa hath told me thou art he who telleth tales to the men and maids at evening. see, it is evening now. wilt not tell me too a tale? i should like it, for sometimes i am very lonely." she was far above him as the stars; but she was a woman, and he a man--and the first tale was told within a garden. she held out a hand to him, and he took it and touched it to his forehead, and it fluttered in his and then lay still. she led him to a bench by the sleeping lake, a child whose will might not be thwarted, and bade him tell her tales such as he told her men and maidens. this the sure instinct of his art taught him he might not do, since those tales which held them thralled were not for such as she. but he locked his hands about his knee, and thought an instant, his head flung back and his eyes intent and eager, with an odd shining deep within them. so his tale began, in the deep-voiced chant which had rung out by moor and camp-fire, hushed now, that the peace of the evening's stillness might not be broken. she sat quite still beside him, her hands clasped childlike in her lap, listening with parted lips. the dusk deepened, and the golden moon hung over the surrounding wall and flooded the garden in wan hoary light. the pool lay a lake of silver in a black fringe of trees. the night flowers breathed forth drowsy perfume, making heavy the summer air. nicanor's voice rolled on, endlessly through the scented darkness.... until nerissa, the old nurse, came upon them suddenly, clamoring for her charge. varia sprang to her and kissed her, with fond coaxing arms about her, so that she relented, since her lady's will was law. she dismissed nicanor, and he crossed his arms before his face, and went away from paradise. varia hid her face on her nurse's shoulder--poor groping soul that found its happiness in things so small--and said: "he hath told me tales, nerissa, so strange and wonderful that never was aught like them in all the world. i will have him to come again, for i am so happy--so happy! and thou shalt not tell, for then he could not come, and he is not to suffer for it. promise, nerissa, dear nerissa--it is but a little thing!" thus varia. and nicanor--ah, nicanor! that night there opened to him a new world,--a world of beauty and of sweetness and of pain. he, a son of the soil, knowing his roughness, his uncouthness, his bondage, never giving them a thought till then, had led her by the hand, a daughter of the stars, for a little space, the barriers down between them. one bit of common ground they had; beyond it, distance immeasurable and impassable. * * * * * that night nicanor was once more seeking, always seeking, for something vague and left unnamed; past the river-ford of thorney, where ever that night-long search began; and so through all the world to where a garden lay in moonlight. here also he would have sought, for he knew that what he strove to find was waiting. but a web of moonlight held him back from entering; and from the outer darkness an old man's voice came to him, clear as a deep-toned bell, which said: "the price of heart's blood and heart's desire is pain, and for what thou gainest, thou must pay the price." iii in the garden was a little narrow door, vine-hung, which led to the outer world. no one ever used this door; for long years it had stood locked, and the key to it was lost,--so long lost that no one ever thought to look and see that the lock was clean and newly oiled that it might turn without noise; and the vines which half hid it on the inner side could tell no tales. marcus, oldest of all the many household slaves, white-headed and shrunken, and bent with the toil of years, squatted by the fire in the court of the slaves' quarters, cleaning a copper pot with a swab of twigs soaked in oil to pliancy. within the house a feast was in progress, so that all the slaves were there on service, and marcus had the fire to himself. he crooned softly as he scrubbed; and the flames struck gleams of light from the collar of brass about his neck and the round shining sides of the kettle, as it turned and twisted in his hands. presently nicanor came into the circle of firelight, staggering under the weight of a great cask upon his back, with sweat-matted hair that streaked his face, and straining muscles. out of the zone of light he passed, with only the panting of labored breath and the pad of naked feet; and the darkness swallowed him. following came another, also laden; and another, with a squat stone jar upon his shoulder; and yet another, each giving out every ounce of power within him, straining like a beast of burden beneath the yoke, that those in the great house might be served perfectly and without fault. they passed; and from the kitchens came a rattle of crockery, a hiss of burning fat, the shrill voices of cooks and scullery women. marcus flung his mop into the fire, got himself to his feet, and went after them, kettle in hand. the fire, left to itself, cast wavering gleams upon the dark walls about the court, the bare trodden ground, the covered well in its centre. marcus, seeking nerissa to give the kettle to her, came to the garden, and stood in the entrance and looked across it. further than this even he dared not venture, since all the space within was sacred to the lord's daughter and her women. opposite him, across the open lawn, were the wide steps, white in the moonlight, leading to the tessellated walk above. beyond this, light shone softly from lady varia's chamber, half screened by the tall slender columns of the gallery. the two windows, reaching to the floor and giving upon the terrace, were open to the warm air; in the room the lights were low. marcus saw suddenly the lady varia herself enter the room alone, walking slowly, like one unwilling or tired. then he would have gone, lest he be reprimanded; but even as he turned, the vines along the farther wall rustled, though no wind stirred. so that marcus, faithful old watch-dog, drew back in the shadows and waited, thinking no danger, yet bound to see that all was well. this was what he saw: lady varia moving within the low-lighted room, pausing before her dressing-table near the tall silver lamp, to remove the weight of jewels which loaded her, aimless, and with slow uncertain steps like a child too weary to know rightly what it does. and from the darkness by the wall a figure coming with swift silent strides across the turf to the marble steps, black as a shadow in the moonlight, lean and lithe and with an untamed shock of hair. the figure stood upon the lowest step and called softly,--a tender, wordless call which drifted low across the night and scarcely reached to marcus's ears. marcus felt for the knife-hilt at his belt. but the lady varia, within the lighted room, heard the call, and stepped across the threshold with head raised and hands hanging at her sides like any sleep-walker, and crossed the pavement where the moonlight lay in silver, and came down the steps, slowly, yet hesitating never at all. marcus, watching in wonder and fright and awe, saw the black figure lift her hand and kiss it; saw the two walk hand in hand across the garden into the dusky jungle of tall shrubbery. so that marcus was in two minds,--whether to give the alarm at once, and have the intruder captured, or whether to go up quietly himself and find out what was going on. in the end he crept along through the shadow beneath the walls; and presently, as he came, heard a voice speaking softly, yet with passion. the words were plainly audible, and marcus heard, and crept closer yet and listened,--listened to words such as in all his stunted life he had never heard before; words which stirred forgotten memories of other things once known, once loved and lost, which he understood in part, and felt more than he understood. he crouched in the shelter of a wide-leaved plant, seeing only the outline of a black figure on the stone bench, and a white one half lost in the darkness beside it. the spell of the voice wrapped him round, deep-toned, vibrant, yet hushed into accord with the stillness of the night. bent on capture, he found himself all at once held captive, his mind swayed as grass in the wind to the sweep of that other's fancy. but abruptly the voice ceased, and the stillness settled deeper. marcus heard a rustle of soft garments upon the bench; a low voice saying: "more--more! cease not, i pray thee, friend!" and that other voice, answering: "nay, lady; what use? something is wanting--the words will not come. i know not why, whether it be in me, or whether--" "nay, but i'll have one more. once thou didst begin to tell of a youth who was poor and lowly, who lived in the country of the north--" "does she, then, remember that?" marcus muttered, "she, whose mind is water, where an image fades with the changing light? eh, thou black-headed slaveling, what miracle hast thou wrought?" "wouldst have that tale?" nicanor asked. "ay, lady, once i did begin, and dared not finish. dare i now? my faith! the trouble will not be for lack of words in this! so then; it was even as thou hast said. the youth lived in the gray northlands, up by the great wall, where gray hills roll over all the earth and gray skies look down upon them. he tended sheep upon these hills for his father's lord, and lived upon black porridge and sour bread, and went clad in a sheepskin. and because he had never known that life held other things than these, it was all to him as it should have been. but there came a time when this youth went out into the world. he left his flocks and herds, with his lord's permission, and went down the long road to the south, past great cities where men lived in luxury and ease and other men toiled and sweated that this might be. he saw many strange faces, heard the babble of many tongues; and it seemed to him that each face was seeking for a thing which had no name, and each tongue was calling for what might not be found. and after a while the youth knew that he too was seeking what he could not find, and he wondered if it might be that same thing for which those stranger faces hungered. in the end, he came to a fair house, and dwelt there, among those ones who sat in luxury and ease and those others who toiled for them. and in this house was a certain place, of which was said: 'this spot is holy ground. here none may enter rashly.' but the youth was rash, and entered." his voice faltered. on the seat beside him the lady varia leaned forward. "and then?--" she said softly. "and there he found what he had been seeking," said nicanor, very low. "what every soul upon this earth has a right to search for, but not every soul has a right to take. the name of this thing, o lady of mine, was happiness; and some there be who call it also love, and others there be who know that it is pain. for in the garden dwelt one fair and pure and holy,--a daughter of the great ones of the earth. and because she was fair he loved her; and because she was great he might not woo her; and because she was pure he would not stain her. for she had taught him to love as a woman may teach a man." "he loved her?" lady varia said. her voice was low and dreaming under the spell of his. "ay, lady of mine, he loved her!" nicanor said; and in place of the vibrant tenderness of his voice was a swift fierce triumph. "he loved her, and nothing could do away with that." once more his tones were hushed. "on earth, between man and woman, are two kinds of love, my lady,--one which a man may teach a woman, which is quick desire and the bitter sweetness of passion, the meaning of a kiss, the thrill of a caress: and this, when all is said and done, is of earth, and of the flesh; and one which a woman may teach a man: and this is reverence, and tenderness, and holiness, and of the spirit. and she taught the youth this kind of love, my lady; taught him to revere and honor what in other women he had ever held lightly; taught him that because she was weak she was so strong that nothing he might do could prevail against her. and so--he went away." "and she?" said the dreaming voice. "did she love him?" there fell a pause. in the bushes, close at hand, one strained his ears to listen, a naked knife gleaming in his hand. "ay," nicanor answered slowly. he turned to her, not touching her, yet so close that he felt her breath on his sleeveless arm. "she loved him. and she did not know it." "not know it?" varia said. she turned her face toward him, and the moonlight fell full on the warm whiteness of her throat. "i think she should have known. and then, she being great, and he so lowly, i think she should have told him that she knew." "if--if you were she," said nicanor, and his voice shook, "would you have told him?" "oh, i should have told him!" varia said, and her voice was low and strained. "i should have said--'i want you to love me! i want you to love me and stay with me always--'" nicanor bowed his face forward on his hands. lady varia, leaning forward, put her hand upon his shoulder. "were i that woman, i should have wanted to love him if he had been like that," she said, tremulously, yet very sweetly. nicanor straightened up and caught both her hands. "ah, no, my lady, you would not!" he said hoarsely. "you would have driven him from you and been angered beyond forgiveness. you would have hated and despised him, because--oh, don't you understand, it is the only thing you could have done! if she had said that--how could--how could he have left her?" "but why did he leave her?" varia asked. "could he not have stayed always in the garden?" nicanor mastered himself with an effort. "no," he said thickly. "because he was only a man--and some day--it would be more than he could endure. if he saw that in her sweet innocence she did not realize the temptation she held out to him, he might--he might have done that which always after he must regret." he raised her face with one hand and looked at her. her eyes were closed, her red mouth quivered. he hesitated, his breath coming hard; then he bent his head and kissed her. as he took her in his arms, she shivered, crying softly: "i am afraid! oh, what is this that you would do!" but when he loosened his hold she clung to him, murmuring: "nay, i am not afraid! i love your kisses. oh, you must not go as did that youth--always you must stay within this garden--" then marcus crept from his shelter and stood before them, silent, his knife gleaming in his hand. nicanor, lifting his head, saw him suddenly, and started, for this meant death by tortures no man might name. he sprang to his feet and thrust lady varia behind him in the same motion, so that in the darkness his body hid her as she crouched upon the bench. marcus snarled, like an aroused watch-dog, and said: "thou more than fool! dost know what this night's work will bring thee?" nicanor, his heart pounding hard, his hands clenched, answered nothing, glancing about him to see if the old man might be alone. but the garden lay silent. then he sprang, as a wolf springs, straight for the old slave's throat, and felled him. lady varia screamed,--a quick, shrill sound which stabbed the night stillness like a knife, and cried: "oh, kill him not--kill him not! i pray thee, kill him not!" "hush thee, dear lady, or the house will be upon us!" nicanor exclaimed, his words rushing through locked teeth. "get quickly to thy chamber and leave all things to me." she sped away over the turf, panting with fear and excitement, and flitted up the steps and across the marble walk and into her room, and closed the window. nicanor, kneeling on the slave's chest, gagging him with a wad torn from his own garment, heard the doors shut with a gasp of relief. he tied the old man's arms tightly with his girdle, trussing him as he had trussed the carcasses of sheep to be loaded upon mules. then, having him bound and helpless, he rose and stood over him, whetting his knife on his hand, with senses keyed to hear footsteps in every stir of leaf and sigh of wind. but the garden lay always silent under the moon's cold eye. he spoke to his captive, in a voice which grated just above a whisper. "i'll not kill thee now, since she begged thy life, old man. but while thou'rt above the ground there's no more peace for me. now what to do with thee?" he stood over his prisoner, motionless in meditation, muttering his thoughts aloud. "there's no place within the house to keep thee safe. and if that clacking tongue of thine betrays us, it needs not much to fancy what will happen then. this is what comes to pass when one serves a brutal master, old man; one must e'en be a brute one's self. i cannot kill thee; they'd miss thee and start a search--besides, my lady said me nay. ha, that makes thee squirm? ay, she'd be mine for the lifting of my finger--even i, nicanor, thy master's slave, have but to say to her, thy master's daughter, 'go thither!' and she goes, and 'come!' and she comes to me as i will. hearest thou that, old man? her lips have been defiled by a slave's kisses; she hath lain unresisting in a slave's arms, to the unending shame of her proud lord father. and why do i tell thee this, old man? to see thee writhe, thou also, at that shame; to have thee know the whole, and never profit by thy knowledge. again i say, i cannot kill thee, but none the less i'll stop that tell-tale mouth of thine. look you, it's the choice between my life and thy eager tongue which even now yearns to blab the tale of my sin and her disgrace. therefore--" he knelt above his captive, who glared at him with bloodshot eyes that glittered in the moonlight. he tested the keenness of his blade, shook back his shaggy hair, and with a sudden twist removed the gag from the old man's jaws, choking back, at the same moment, with pitiless hands, the cry which rose to his lips. then he bent over, so that the bulk of him hid from the moonlight his victim and his work. there was a single glint of steel, a convulsion of the thin figure on the ground; a faint click, and a choked and gurgling cry, instantly suppressed. then nicanor cleaned his blade by driving it thrice deep into the soft ground, and stood up; and marcus rolled over and over in agony at his feet, with inarticulate animal cries which scarcely rose above the silence of the night. nicanor unloosed his bonds and touched him with his foot. "hereafter thou'lt hold thy peace, old man! neither good nor ill wilt thou ever prate of mortal more, for i've drawn thy sting. once thou wert kind to me; twice, in return, did i steal for thee, and once took a beating from thy shoulders. but thou wert more loyal to thy master than thou wert friend to me--and in a matter such as this, i take no chances. as i have served thee, so will i serve any man who crosses me. now go. wash thy mouth with cold water and chew pounded leaves of betel. it will stop the blood." he left the garden with noiseless strides, a black shadow in the moonlight. marcus got himself slowly to his feet, moaning like an animal in pain. he shook his fist at the vanishing figure, with uncouth and terrible sounds which had once been speech, but even then were none the less a curse. so, shuddering and crying, he crept from the sleeping garden, where all was still and peaceful, and where pain and sorrow should have had no place. * * * * * and never again was that garden so peaceful and so still, for life had entered it, by the little narrow door, bringing with it what life must bring. iv nicodemus, the freedman, one-eyed, short, immensely broad, beetle-browed, and grizzled, stood in the door of his wine-shop and watched the crowding press of travellers at the marsh-ford, fore-runners of the throng which nightly descended upon thorney. behind him, in the dim recesses of the smoky shop, his wife, myleia, hawk-nosed and slatternly, prepared food for the strangers who would soon be upon them clamoring for bed and board. it was early evening, with a faint twilight haze still tinged with pink and primrose; but already lights were twinkling here and there among the clustered houses, and fires had been started on the beach. there was no more excitement at the ford than was usual at that hour; the noise was no greater, the confusion no more profound; yet nicodemus watched it all intently, as though he had not seen it every night before. his one eye, small and hotly blue beneath its bushy brow, glinted over the bustling scene; watched a dozen men flogging a horse that had slipped in mid-stream and fallen with its pack, blocking a long file of animals and carts behind it; followed three half-drunken soldiers lurching through the shallow water, using their pikes as staves; lingered over a bloody battle between two carters whose wheels had locked; and suddenly sobered into gravity at sight of a figure striding through the ford, in worn leathern jerkin and brazen cap, with a ponderous leaf-shaped sword swinging at its side. at sight of this one, nicodemus turned and went within. the shop, lighted dimly by an evil-smelling lamp, showed small and low-ceiled. jars of cheap wine and casks of ale and beer, with an array of drinking-cups of all shapes and sizes, stood on shelves along the wall at one side. a trestled board, much scarred and hacked, ran down the centre of the room, flanked by rows of stone stools. built around two sides of the room was a series of rude bunks. over the edge of one of these a head of rough and matted black hair was visible. an odor of stale liquor, scorched meat, and pungent wood-smoke hung heavy in the air. myleia entered, from the kitchen beyond, with a tray of half-cooked beef. nicodemus went to the bunk and shook the occupant ungently. "valerius is here!" he said. his voice, like himself, was rough and brusque, rumbling hollow from the depths of his cavernous chest. the figure in the bunk stirred and muttered. nicodemus turned his head. "he'll not sleep this off for another six hours," he growled. "wife, some water." the hawk-nosed woman came to his side with a jug of water. as she gave it to him, she put one hand, gnarled, distorted by work, hairy as a man's, on his broad shoulder, and he put his own hand up over it. they stood silent, looking down at the black head buried in the dingy blankets. the lamplight fell soddenly on their faces, throwing them into relief against the murky gloom of the room. nicodemus grunted, and without warning emptied the water over the black head. myleia laughed huskily. the remedy was partially effectual. the head rose dripping from the blankets, with dazed and drunken eyes. "pull thyself together, nicanor, lad!" nicodemus said sharply. "valerius is coming for thee. thou hast overstayed thy leave; he is to take thee back to the house of thy lord. dost understand?" nicanor, answering nothing, sat upright with an effort, pressing his hands to his head, his body swaying slightly from the hips. nicodemus put a hand on his shoulder. "come!" he urged. nicanor looked at him, blinking stupidly. still he did not speak, but moistened his lips with a swollen tongue. he began to sink slowly back into the blankets, supine and inert. nicodemus sat on the edge of the bunk and passed a long gorilla arm about his shoulders. he motioned to his wife, who stood watching, arms akimbo, her face expressive of lively sympathy. she went to the shelves where stood the jars of liquor, returning with a brimming horn cup. nicodemus took this, tilted back the heavy head at his shoulder, and started to pour its contents down nicanor's throat. nicanor choked, gasped, and swallowed automatically. a black figure blocked out the twilight in the door. "peace be with ye, friends! what's all this?" said a hearty voice. valerius entered; saw the face of the patient, and stopped short. "nicanor!" he exclaimed. "why, i'm come for him. he should have been back last night. hito--prince of overseers--hath a black mark against him. drunk again?" nicodemus nodded casually. "bide a bit, friend, and i'll have him in shape. he's awake now." nicanor, slowly recovering his sodden wits, looked at valerius, recognizingly, opened his mouth to speak, found the exertion too great, and shut it again. he let his head sink back against nicodemus. presently, with his eyes closed, he said thickly: "you, valerius? what now?" "i want you, my friend," said valerius, promptly. "it would seem you forget the trifling fact that hito commanded your return last night. while you wear the collar, you'll have to heed the word of him who holds the chain--mark you that. you're in for a flogging as it is--best not let your case get to higher quarters." he turned to nicodemus. "can we get him started, think you?" nicodemus let the shaggy head drop back into the bunk, and rose. "let him bide an hour and he'll be ready for you," he suggested. "which is to say that he'll be able to walk, with help. sit you down, comrade--the night's young yet." he beckoned valerius with him to the table, with a nod at myleia. she brought cups and an ampulla of wine--not from among those upon the shelves. valerius, with a grunt of satisfaction, pushed his sword out of his way and sat down. but voices at the door, a shout, a pounding of horses' hoofs, recalled nicodemus to his duties as host. he signed to valerius to help himself, and hurried to the door. the twilight had deepened into dusk, through which the fires at the ford glowed redly. the air, sharp with the evening chill, was vibrant with sounds of preparation for the night. outside the wine-shop door a group was gathered,--three men mounted, three others afoot. one of the latter, a slave, was calling lustily for admittance, beating with his staff upon the door. "here, lords, here!" cried nicodemus in alarm. "what may the lords be pleased to want?" "food and drink and a place to sleep if you have it," said one on horseback. his voice was full and resonant and very deep; the tones of one used to command men. another added querulously: "this place is crowded to the doors. every public-house--say quick if you can take us in, for a cloud of vermin is swarming at our heels, ready to snap the food from our very jaws." nicodemus's eye, long used to sizing up the purses of would-be customers, lighted to quick and eager greed. "all i have is at your lordships' service. you say truly; thorney is crowded, so that many will sleep on the naked ground to-night." there came a group of weary carters along the street, smelling loudly of drink and of the stables, clamoring at every crowded house for bed and board. nicodemus saw the disgusted scorn with which the lord who had last spoken regarded these; saw the other two on horseback turn away as though contaminated by the very atmosphere of their presence,--an atmosphere none too sweet, in truth,--and promptly took his cue. "nay, friend," said he to the foremost carter, as they clustered close around, hopeful at last of shelter. "you're too late--i'm full. best go to the black cock--a step further down the street. there you'll find all you ask for." "the black cock be full also," the man protested sulkily. "you have room to spare! see then, friend, we'll pay 'ee well." but nicodemus, fearful lest his golden geese should fly, turned on him fiercely. "get ye gone! i've no time to dicker over coppers. i'm full, i tell you, and that's all there is to it.--this way, lords." he led his guests into the house, shouting for myleia to come and put up the horses. two wore the dress of private citizens of wealth; the equipment of the third and youngest proclaimed him a military tribune. the face of this one, the most noticeable of the trio--a man of some seven-and-thirty years--was pale and aristocratic, with high nose, thick and level brows, a thin-lipped mouth at once refined and sensual. and the eyes were the eyes of a son of rome the mighty, dark, keen, dominant, impatient of restraint. behind them one might read what the man himself stood for; the epitome of centuries of culture, of severest physical training and the restraint of the discipline of the mightiest machine the world had ever seen; and, at the same time, of equal centuries of indulgence and luxury and vice--a curious mingling of ascetic and sybarite. of the other two, one bore a marked resemblance to the soldier, with the pride and passion of the younger face tempered by years to a mellower dignity. he was richly dressed, and on his thumb was a large and heavily chased signet ring. the third man, who at first spoke little, keeping his eyes cast down, was small and shrivelled, with a scholar's face and a distinct cast in the right eye. these three sat at the table, whence valerius had hurriedly removed himself and his wine, and were served obsequiously by nicodemus and his wife with the best the house afforded. for a while they ate and drank in silence. then the tongue of the small old man, loosened by the wine, began to wag. he spoke abruptly, in a voice husky and somewhat over-precise. "i had not looked to see thee here, friend marius. thy father made no mention of thy coming." "he knew nothing of it," the young tribune answered shortly. "there was no time to send word from gaul--where i have been stationed these last two years--that i had been ordered into britain. and when i arrived, he was travelling, and my letter did not reach him." "he came with his legion, which is that one sent hither by the proconsul ætius of gaul, at the request of the governors of the cities to drive out the barbarians from britannia secunda. and that was nine months ago," his father explained. "so; i see. it was gallant work of gallant men," said the old man with effusion. the soldier shrugged his broad shoulders in an indifference half contemptuous. "and thou hast remained in britain since thy comrades sailed back to gaul?" "the commander left certain men to guard against further outbreak," the father of marius explained, patiently. "and my son is of that number. but the trouble seems thoroughly subdued, and they have been ordered to return to gaul." "i have applied for leave by the physicians' orders, having been wounded during the affair," said marius. "myself i know that i am fit for service, but i am constrained--" again he shrugged. "a campaign hath been started in gaul against the huns who threaten us, and you may guess if i like the prospect of missing it. until my leave is granted, i am here to make arrangements for a vessel for my cohort. after, i shall remain for some weeks; it is long since my father and i have been together." "and those weeks, i doubt not, you will spend together at the house of eudemius," the old man persisted, and received a curt grunt of assent. undeterred by lack of enthusiasm of his hearers, he settled to the discussion of a new subject. "it is years since i have seen him, but men say that he is greatly changed, since the physicians have failed to mend his daughter's misfortune." the soldier, staring moodily into his horn cup, made no sign of having heard. his father poured himself more wine, and nodded. the old man added, with a chuckle and a senile attempt at jocularity: "marius, boy, thou shouldst but see her! not a goddess of rome herself could equal her. eh, but she's the morsel for thy lips, she and her fat lands and the gold of her father's coffers. and it were high time thou shouldst think of marriage." "i care nothing for damaged goods," marius interrupted. "and as for marriage, that may well wait awhile." "but since thou art to visit the father, it is but meet that thou shouldst become enamoured of the daughter, for the time at least. what else could be expected of thee?" quavered he of the cast. he poured himself another cup of wine; his hand, none too steady, shook, and the liquor spilled. hereat he wept, dolefully, and forgot his discourse on the duty of guests to their hosts' daughters. unheeding him, the others talked quietly, in low tones. but he, bound to hold the centre of the stage, remembered suddenly what he wished to say, and began again. "my boy, thou couldst have her for the taking!" marius, his speech with his father interrupted, eyed him with a sort of grim patience, waiting until he chose to cease. "a fit morsel for thy lips," the garrulous one repeated. "i speak of what mine eyes have seen. what if the mind be wanting, so long as the face is fair? many a man hath found too much mind a sorry investment in a wife. and she's fair enough! by venus, yes! eyes like clouded stars, midnight tresses, a bosom whiter than milk--" marius laughed scornfully. "maybe so! but so have a thousand others, with sense thrown in. why so keen to set me after her? let the poor fool be. i tell you i'll have no damaged goods. if i marry at all, by the veil of isis, the price i must needs pay will be high enough to warrant me in asking the best in return." nicanor, hearing the murmur of voices, raised his head slowly and looked over the edge of the bunk. he saw valerius in his corner, sound asleep, and wondered what he wanted there. the old man sat with his back to him, but the face of the soldier was in plain sight. at him nicanor stared, stolidly, without interest, and let himself drop back into the blankets. but the remedy of nicodemus was beginning to have effect. by degrees his head became clearer; objects in the room no longer jumped startlingly when he set his glance upon them; his thoughts became more connected. there had been a scene in a garden--her garden. marcus had come; had discovered him with her. his heart stood still. what had happened then? had he killed the old man? he recalled the truth with a gasp of relief which yet was mingled with apprehension. but afterwards? there came to him, slowly, a memory, vague and confused, of a weary wandering through endless night, torn by temptation and desire, raging with defiance of the consequences of his rashness, consumed by fever that ran through his veins like fire and dried the very heart within him. what had become of varia? of marcus? how much had been found out? sudden blind fury at his impotence in the face of supreme and arrogant power possessed him. the brazen collar about his throat burned like a band of fire. he raised his hands to it, and let them drop. what could he do--a slave? after all, what did it matter? nothing mattered then, save varia. he lay devising ways and means of seeing her again, since this he was bound to do, though gods and men might say him nay. the voices at the table droned on, as from a great distance, and nicanor lay and listened. they spoke of some woman. no name was mentioned, but the description of her, as it fell from the old man's maudlin lips, sent his heart pounding. so might be described another woman, who for him held life and death and all that lay between. the voice of valerius at his ear made him start. "awake, lad? art better? so, then; it's time to start." nicanor got out of the bunk. once on his legs, he discovered that he was by no means steady. the three at the table ceased talking as he rose, more from prudence than curiosity, it seemed. the soldier glanced at him, with keen eyes, indifferent at first, lighting to faint professional interest, that noted every point of bearing and physique; the lean flanks, swelling upward to muscular torso and the shoulders of a chariot-racer; the knotted muscle of forearm and back; finally rested on the broad collar circling the brown massive throat. "that fellow would look well in the ranks," he observed casually. his father glanced at nicanor as one might at a dog whose good points were under discussion, and nodded. marius added, continuing what had gone before: "you can't kill a man with hard work if you know how to handle him. i tell fabian that these brushes with barbarians at least serve the purpose of keeping the men in condition." his father sighed. "always thou wert a hard taskmaster, marius," he said gently. "it may be that thou drivest the men farther than thou knowest. men are not brute beasts, that they must be goaded even to the breaking-point." "most men are, my father," marius returned. "most men will do what they are made to do, no more. as for driving them to breaking-point, i think you need not fear for that. men need a lot of killing." he fell into silence, staring into the amber depths of his cup of wine. his father glanced at him, sighed once more, and turned away. nicodemus and myleia hurried in to prepare fresh beds for their lordly guests. valerius and nicanor went out into the night. the keen air struck nicanor like a dash of cold water. he drew a deep and grateful breath of it, and felt revived. "how long have i been from the house?" he asked, with intent to fill in the blank spaces of his memory. "it is the second night," valerius answered. "when you asked hito for leave, he gave command that you return last night." "when i asked hito--" nicanor repeated. he had no recollection of having asked the overseer for anything. "you did not come, so, being angry, he directed me to search for you and bring you back for a flogging. what more was in store, he did not say." nicanor shot a glance of swift suspicion at him through the darkness. "what more should there be?" he demanded. "why, how can i tell?" valerius parried. "imprisonment, maybe, for a day or so.... though, in truth, as the offence is repeated by some one or other every day, he can have no excuse for--" "well?" nicanor said impatiently, as valerius paused. "treating you as he would like to do," the latter added soberly. "hito hates you, my friend." nicanor shrugged his shoulders. this tale of an overseer's feelings was not what he had feared. "oh, that!" he exclaimed, and snapped his fingers. "if that were all i had to think about.... valerius, tell me this. each time i have seen you i have wished to ask. how comes it that you are in the service of the torturer?" "i got tired of the church," valerius answered simply. "the good fathers were very good, but me they singled out as the black sheep of all the fold, and it was more than could be endured. 'what religion have you?' says father ambrose. 'none at all,' says i, 'and want none.' so he nearly wept, and told the others, and they agreed that i was fit food for the fires of hell. so they gave me their blessing, and told me holy church was better off without me, and there were no more sandals to be repaired. then i fell in with hito, and he took me into the service of our lord. how hath it been with you?" nicanor told of the manner of his capture, and valerius laughed. "clever!" he chuckled. "but tell me truth, lad. is not this a long sight better than the work-room of that fish-faced brother tobias? are we not hand in glove with the great ones of the earth? do we not know them, in all their parts, far better than those of their own world could ever do, since we serve them?" "ay," said nicanor. "that is so. and yet, after all--when i was in the workshop, if the bone cut straight, and if there was what i liked for supper, i was happy, and wanted nothing more. now--" "now," said valerius, dropping into his old familiar tone, with an arm thrust through nicanor's--"now thou hast found that there are many other things in life which a man may want. is it not so?" "ay," nicanor said again. "that is so also." v in the slaves' quarters, next morning, nicanor took his flogging without a change of face, while hito, the fat overseer, looked on and grinned in evil glee. but nicanor had so much worse than flogging hanging over him that he scarcely felt the blows, and merely grinned back at hito, with insolent bravado, until the latter was cursing with rage. then, being set to grind sand for the floors of the kitchens, he made an opportunity to seek out marcus. but marcus was nowhere to be found. nicanor questioned, cautiously; no one had seen him. apparently, no one cared what had become of him. he might have been rotting in sewer or drain-hole for all his fellow-slaves seemed concerned. to save his life nicanor could not have told just why he wished to find the old man, since the farther he and marcus were apart, the better it would be for both. foiled in his search, he went back to work again. many times before his labor was ended, he passed the closed door of the garden where varia dwelt; and each time his heart beat hard and his face flushed and his brown hands trembled. to know her so near, and not to see her; to be conscious of her in every throbbing pulse, and not to seek her; not to know whether she was safe and unharmed, or whether blame for his rashness had fallen, through her father's wrath, on her-"last night i could have gone to her had i not chosen to make myself a drunken swine," he said, and caught himself up in fear lest he had spoken the words aloud. "did she look for me--wait for me?--for i'll warrant she has not forgotten. but to-night--to-night--" he caught his breath, his eyes lighting. "i'll make her confess she loves me! i'll have the words from her own lips--words, ay, and kisses also! ah, lord, noble lord, mighty lord! what wouldst say to know that for the lifting of a slave's finger thou standest to lose what all thy gold could never buy thee back?" his passion died before it had fairly gathered force. he stood an instant, motionless and shaken, drew a hand across his eyes, and returned to his labor. all that day hito worked him mercilessly, in a mean and entirely comprehensible spirit of revenge, until, being not fully recovered from his drinking-bout, his brain was reeling and he could scarcely keep his legs. at sunset he took his share of the rations dealt out nightly to the slaves, but although he was faint from emptiness the sight of the food turned him sick. he went to the cell where he, with others, slept, and dropped like a log, exhausted in mind and body. here he lay until hito's whistle summoned the household slaves for emergency service. not to obey meant punishment, but in his present state nicanor cared little for that. he lay listening to the sound of hasty feet and voices as slaves passed to and fro across the courtyard to the house, expecting momently to be called to account for his delinquency. but no one came to him, and by and by he slept. waking, he found the world dark and peopled with restless, moving shadows. there was still much hurrying here and there, and from the kitchens came strident sounds of nervous activity. thither nicanor started, across the unlighted court, stopping on the way for a cup of water at the well. as he put down the dipper and turned to go, he ran into some one bound in the same direction, who staggered under the shock with an exclamation, and dropped a dish, which crashed into fragments on the ground. at the same instant nicanor caught her by the shoulder and steadied her; in the darkness he could not see her face. "it is broken!" she exclaimed. "i must go quickly and get another." "it was my fault," said nicanor. "i will go." "there is no need," the woman answered. she started back, nicanor keeping perversely beside her. "what is happening?" he wished to know. "is there a feast made in the house to-night?" he could feel that she was looking at him in surprise. "you do not know? two strangers came to-day, with news of importance, men say, for our lord. there be strange things told: they urge that our lord will go back with them to rome. the old man was indisposed when he arrived; his servant tells that he is not over strong." she hurried off, and nicanor stood still, repeating stupidly her words. "our lord will go back with them to rome. then she will go with him. but that is not possible. his home is here--why should he leave it?" at once he was filled with feverish anxiety to find out what truth there might be in the gossip. he invented an errand which would take him within the house, to see if by chance lady varia might be among the feasters. since she was kept in strictest seclusion by eudemius, he was quite sure of not finding her, but his mood of perversity still held. on the way he met a saxon slave, wardo, a fair-haired, blue-eyed fellow, hurrying toward the atrium with a pierced copper bowl packed with snow for cooling wines. him nicanor stopped with a question. "hast seen these strangers, wardo? whence come they, and who have been bidden to meet them?" "they and our lord sup alone," wardo answered. he shifted his bowl from hand to hand, and blew on his fingers as though it burned instead of freezing him. "the dancing girls have been commanded, and wine is to be brought. much hath been brought already. and nicanor, hark 'ee! egon, who pours the wines, saith that the talk is strange talk for feasting. they urge that our lord go back with them to rome--wherefore, think you? they speak of rome, and londinium, and the legions from gaul, and of losses of ships and money, until one's head rings. what might it be about? think you that we go to rome? i should like to go to rome, if it be anything like londinium--" "we go to rome?" nicanor repeated. "say rather that we should be left here to die like chained rats that the trainer hath forgotten." he went off; and watched his chance and slipped away outside, and stopped before the little garden door. he put his hand upon it, drew back, and glanced over his shoulder as though for possible pursuit. his face held a curious mixture of doubt and boldness, hesitancy and desire. only a moment he paused; then opened the door with a silent key, slipped inside so that the vines scarcely rustled, and closed it without noise. no one was in the garden. his eagerness took fire at the delay; lithe and silent as a mountain cat he crossed the open space of lawn, mounted the steps of the terrace, and gained the windows, whence came no light from the tall silver lamps within. and here he discovered that the windows were closed. with all his boldness he dared venture no further. baffled, yet keener set in his determination for being thwarted, he drew back into the shadows and waited. from where he stood by the marble bench no sound came to him save the chirring of insects in the grass, the squeak of a bat or twitter of a sleepy bird. one might never have thought the place to be in the heart of a house whose inmates numbered five hundred souls and more, so still it was, so seemingly remote from all human noise and tumult. the combined effects of the silence and the perfume of the many night-blooming plants made him drowsy; also his head was light from want of food. every clump of bushes seemed suspicious; he began at last to hear footsteps in every sough of wind and creak of branch. but he set his teeth grimly, bound not to be beaten, fighting hard against sleep and overwhelming weariness. yet what it meant for him should he, in spite of himself, fall asleep and be discovered there by lady varia's women, none knew better than he. "she will come! she must come!" he muttered, and kept himself awake with that. and she did come. after untold hours of waiting, during which he alternately dozed and started into uneasy watchfulness through sheer force of will, she came to him out of the scented darkness, walking slowly, with hands hanging straight at her sides, a slim figure dimly white. so suddenly did she appear that at first he did not move, believing himself still drowsing. but she stopped before him; and at once the world fell away from him, leaving him thought and memory of nothing but that she had come to him at his call and that they were alone together. "i am here," she said, very low. "didst call me, or did i dream it? and why?" "because i wanted thee!" he answered, and caught her hands and kissed them. his own hands shook as he drew her down upon the bench beside him; he dared not trust his voice to utter what was on his tongue. she sat beside him, leaving her hands in one of his, and he slipped his arm about her, unrebuked. in the darkness he could not tell whether or not her eyes were on him. presently she spoke. "hast thou not a tale to tell to-night? last night thou didst not come, and i was lonely. all the night i did not sleep. now i am tired--so tired...." her voice drifted into silence. she yawned, quite openly, like a sleepy child, and leaned her head slowly back against his arm. nicanor quivered from head to foot, and tightened his clasp about her. it was these innocent tricks of hers, these child ways, wholly trusting, without thought of guile, that made him mad for her, tempted him almost beyond endurance, and yet, in their very innocence, made themselves her strongest shield. she knew nothing, with that child's soul of hers, of the passion which shook him at her touch, which sent his hands hot when her fingers fluttered into his, and set his heart pounding in heavy throbs when, as now, she leaned her cheek above it. how should she know? her mind was a child's mind, unawakened, even though her body was a woman's body, fragrant cup of the mystic wine of life, abounding in sweet allurements of which she knew not the smallest meaning. "i would have another tale!" she said at length, imperiously, and raised her head to look at him in grieved surprise that her command should be so slighted. but nicanor drew her back to him, lifting both her cool palms to his burning face. "ah, lady mine!" he said, "the only tale i have to tell thee, i may not utter. none other have i to-night; my heart is big with it, my brain reels with it, but my lips must e'en be dumb. and yet--i know that thou wouldst listen; that what i might say would echo in thy heart forever and a day. then why should i not say it? why, if the thorns be not strong enough to guard, should i not pluck the rose?" he gathered her more closely into his arms, drinking the perfume of her hair, the warmth of her, into every fibre of his being. she lay quiet, her head thrown back against his shoulder, great eyes wide open in the darkness, resting easily as a bird in its nest against his strength. "because the rose is too fair and fragrant for common hands to pluck." nicanor's voice grew to a hushed intensity, as though he argued with himself a point gone over many times before, yet never wholly gained--what higher manhood there was in him contending with temptation innocently offered, striving against lawless passion and desire. "now it is but a half-blown bud, this rose, knowing nothing of the perils which beset all roses in all gardens, lady mine, hiding the golden heart of it in shy, half-open leaves. some day a high-born stranger will enter the garden, and the gardener will point to this his rose, and say: 'look you, friend, at the fair flower i have nurtured here. i have tended it well, kept from it frost and blasting heat, watered it, let the sun to shine upon it. now it is ready for the plucking--take you it.' then the stranger will pluck the rose, and will watch it unfold, petal by petal, until all the beauty of it is laid bare. and gardener nor stranger will ever know that one was in the garden there before them, with his hand upon the rose's stem and his breath upon the rose's heart." varia stirred and brushed a hand across his lips. "but that is not a tale!" she said plaintively. "or if it be a tale, it is a sad one. the poor rose! it may be that it wished to stay within the garden, and not be plucked to fade away and die. i had not thought of that before! never will i pluck a rose again; i will let it live where the gardener plants it. i thought it pretty to pluck them and smell them, and watch the leaves all fall; i did not know i killed them! sometimes i think that people do not know when they kill roses. now tell another tale, i pray thee! tell that tale of when thou and i lived long and long ago, and of how we met in that other world which is gone. that tale i love the best of all." "of how we met--" nicanor repeated absently. again his mood had changed, as always in her presence. when away from her, with but the memory of her face, her innocent wiles, her passiveness under his caresses, passion had its way with him, blinding him, rendering him desperate, careless of consequences. but when with her, that very innocence of hers wrought its own spell upon him, taming and stilling him with an awe which he but half understood. curiously, this chastened mood left him invariably sullen and surly, after the manner of a beast which sulks at having missed its kill. "of how we met?" he said again. "so then. once thou and i lived very long ago. ages and ages ago it was, when the world was young, and only the moon and the stars were old. none walked upon the earth save we two, and the world and its beauty was for us alone. dusky forests covered all the land, where strange birds sang and great flowers grew. wild beasts roamed these forests with us, but we walked among them unafraid, for they knew not that they could harm us. beneath the sunken light of old scarred moons we wandered hand in hand; and day by day i told that tale to thee i dare not tell thee now, and there was none to hinder me. "canst dream of a world all happiness, my lady, a world without shadow of sorrow or cloud of care, with nothing but happy sunshine and the songs of birds? that world was our world. and in it we were free, we two, free to wander where we would, free as the winds that called us. who may know freedom as do those who walk in chains? we knew not then the measure of this our freedom, for we had known no thraldom of flesh nor spirit. therefore the high gods decreed that we should be brought to know the greatness of their gift, by losing it; that in our lives to come we should be bound, and bound remain until we knew what we had lost. thy bonds sit upon thee lightly, yet in thine eyes i read that they are there. and i--i am learning fast what freedom means. in the shade of great trees which upheld the very floor of heaven we rested, thou and i, and saw the wide earth smiling in warm golden noons. it was then thy hands first learned to cling to mine"--he raised her hands and kissed them--"it was then thy head first leaned above my heart--ay, even so long since, in the beginning of the world. down all the after ages it hath been the same; somewhere, somehow, we met; and each time of our meeting there came to us a memory of dear dead days long gone, forgotten until a breath from dim gardens where we wandered blew to us from the past. oh, but those days were long, each one a jewel of flame and azure, strung on the golden chain of time; and the nights were long, and warm, and clear, and perfumed as thy hair. our food was fruit and the nuts i gathered; our wine the waters of clear brooks which thou drankest from my hands. ferns, deep and fragrant, made our couch." he stopped abruptly. "as my soul liveth, i can tell no more!" he said, and his voice was shaken. "sweet lady o' mine, urge me not, for thine own sake! thou dost not understand--how shouldst thou? any tale i'll tell thee--any tale save a tale of thee and me." "that is the tale which i will have," said varia, drowsily. nicanor smothered an exclamation. "child, canst not see that my hands tremble, that i burn with fever, and am scarce master of myself?" his tone quickly changed and softened. "there, then, i will not frighten thee! only ask me not to try my strength beyond its limit with that tale i taught thee to love and long for--" "then i shall go," said varia, with no smallest understanding of his cry, and rose from the bench. but nicanor was quicker than she. he caught her hand and turned her half around to face him. "nay, i'll not let thee go!" he said unevenly. "the hour is mine, and the night is mine--and i cannot let thee go!" she sat down once more upon the bench, passively submissive as a child to its elders' will. nicanor dropped on one knee on the grass beside her, his arms across her lap, his hands prisoning one of hers. his deep voice lowered to a note of lingering tenderness that thrilled like the strings of a harp gently touched. "oh, light of all the world to me!" he said softly. "if i but dared tell thee of the thoughts that are mine, and the madness that is mine, and the punishment for them that is mine also! wouldst understand? ay, truly, i think so! for i'd tell it so that the deaf trees, that whisper always and hear not--ay, and the very winds of heaven, could not help but know the meaning of my words." she put her free hand to his face, upturned to hers, and stroked it. "thou poor one!" she said with gentle pity. "is it that thou art ill to-night? thy face burns hot, like fire. is all well with thee?" nicanor suddenly bowed his head forward on her knees. "nay," he answered huskily. "it is not well." she sat a moment, her hand resting idle on his rough black head. "i am sorry!" she said then, simply. "is there--is there aught that i could do? when my lord father is ill, he will have me sometimes to stroke his head, to ease the pain. wilt thou that i should stroke thy head also?--nay, do not move! see, i will touch it so, and so, and soon thou shalt be cured." she bent over him, as he leaned against her, her soft hands slowly stroking his forehead with touch as light as the brushing of a rose-leaf. nicanor stood it as long as he could. then he crushed her hands in his, and kissed them passionately, many times, and rose to his feet. "dear little hands, that would cure all the pain and sorrow of the world an they might! they have healed me, sweet, and made me sane--ay, and wounded deeper than they healed! go now, quickly, dear heart, while i have courage and will to say it." "but--" she began, hesitating. he interrupted, fiercely. "go, child, go! or i'll not give thee the chance again!" "but thy head--" she persisted. "it is cured," he answered. as she turned away, surprised at his sudden brusqueness, he took a step beside her. "hast heard that thy lord father will leave britain for rome?" he asked abruptly. "leave britain? but it is not so!" she exclaimed. "why should he do that? he would not leave without me, and i--i will not go. i will stay here; i will not go to rome! and thou,--" she came closer to him,--"wilt thou come to-morrow and tell me tales? last night i waited for thee, and when thou didst not come i was lonely. do not let me be lonely again, i pray thee!" nicanor looked at her for a time. "ay," he said finally, in a hushed voice. "i will come." she turned from him and started across the grass. he watched her, and his hands slowly clenched. she looked back once over her shoulder, her face glimmering white in the starlit darkness. it was enough. in a stride he was after her; in a heart-beat she was in his arms, her face hidden against his breast. "i love thee--i love thee!" he whispered hoarsely. "heart of mine, that is the tale i dared not tell! a tale of three words, three little words, which yet is longer than any tale that ever was said or sung. dost understand, dear heart, what that must mean to thee and me?" she drew herself away from him with her hands against his breast. "you love me," she repeated, not questioningly, but as one making statement of a fact. "ay, i understand that. why should i not?" her voice grew tenderly solemn. "'where thou art, caius, there am i, caia; and thy people shall be my people' ... _that_ is when one loves." nicanor cut her short with an exclamation. "ay, that is when happy other men and women love!" he said bitterly. "but not for such as thou and i. for us, beloved, it means that where thou art, there i may not be; that all men, all circumstance, would strive to part us, since the world will have it that high blood may not mate with lowly." "but why?" she asked. her voice was wondering. "if two people love, is not that enough?" "'if two people love,'" nicanor repeated. he drew her back into his arms and turned her face upward to the stars and to his eyes. "beloved, i have said i love thee with a love that must last through life and death and all that lies beyond. so, since i am what i must be, i have placed my life within thy hands for good or ill. thou sayest 'if two people love.' dost thou then love me?" she raised her head and looked full at him. "ay, surely i love thee," she answered. "thou hast told me tales so strange and wonderful that none were ever like them in the world before. and thou hast been kind to me, nor ever scolded, nor called me fool, as does my lord father when i have displeased him. does not one always love those who are kind to one? it is the least that one can do, i think. and yet ... i do not know. what is this love thou hast?" "the most terrible thing in the world, and the sweetest," nicanor answered, his eyes on hers. "it is a chain that binds life to life, and the links of the chain are drops of heart's blood. it is pain from which one would not seek relief. men have called it a flower, beloved, but it is no flower, for flowers wither in a little space, and die, and love hath eternal life. ay, for it is eternal; and death, to it, is but a moment in the dark." varia caught her breath with a smothered sob. "ah, but i do love thee when thou talkest so!" she whispered. "often i cannot understand thy words, but i can feel them, here,--" she clasped her hands above her heart,--"and sometimes they make me glad, and sometimes sorry, and sometimes they frighten me, and i do not at all know why. but always i long to hear more. they make me to want things i have not got, to know things i do not know, for i am very foolish. oh, thou wizard of the silver tongue!" she raised both hands to his temples, and he could feel that her fingers shook. "play not with me for the sake of thy sport, i pray thee! ay, i am very foolish,--i know it,--for i may not understand how such things be; but thy speech leads me as a nurse leads her child by the hand, and i am afraid, because i cannot understand whither thou wouldst have me go." "play with thee! beloved, it is no play to me," nicanor answered. "i'd give thee all my life and soul, as i've given thee my heart, could i but keep from thee a moment's fear or sorrow." he bent his head and kissed her snowy eyelids. "whatever god or gods there be that men may pray to, may they have thee, lady mine, in their holy keeping. whoever they may be, i give thanks that this night they guarded thee--or was it the veil of thine own white innocence around thee?--for this night hath a beast been held at bay." he let her go, and stood watching hungrily as she slipped away from him across the grass. over the surrounding walls of the villa a faint gray mist came stealing. the song of the insects had died, and the world hung silent, awaiting the mystery of the day. the trees and bushes of the garden massed themselves into denser shadow against the tinge of ghostly light. from somewhere, far away, a cock crew, and another answered. nicanor listened until the faint click of a closing window reached him. suddenly he buried his face in his hands and stood an instant motionless, a dark and sombre figure in the gray loneliness of dawn. before the light had gathered strength for him to be more than a moving blot among the shadows, he pulled himself together with a quick shake of his shoulders, and vanished amid the tangle of vines and shrubbery that hid the little garden door. ----------------------------------------------------------------------pawns and players book iii ----------------------------------------------------------------------book iii pawns and players i the lord eudemius, covered with tawny leopard skins, lay stretched on a couch of carven ebony in the library of the villa, of which the windows overlooked the great central courtyard. he was a tall man, spare, with black, sombre eyes, a high nose, and a wiry black beard, close clipped. his hands, long and white and nervous, held a scroll which he kept slowly unwinding and letting roll together again. his face was remarkable for nothing save its complete impassivity; devoid of all expression, it was merely a mask behind which the man kept locked his real self and thoughts. a dish of fruit stood on a stand at his elbow. with him in the room sat livinius, the father of marius, making notes with a stylus on a tablet of ivory coated with wax. the face of livinius was grave, yet eager. he began to speak presently, as though continuing a conversation which had gone before. "rome has often needed gold, and has wrung it from the people mercilessly; but i tell you, eudemius, that her need was never greater than in this hour. ay, and not gold alone she must have, but brains to plan for her, hands to work for her, blood to be spilled for her. you, yourself, friend, have been soldier, senator, statesman. you know, as i know, and as every roman in his soul must know, that the core of the trouble lies in the fact that she hath gathered in more than her two hands could hold. i would not see her other than she is,--mistress of the world; but i would first see her in a position to maintain that title in the face of all challenge. and she is not in such position. outwardly, she hath all show of might, of force invincible and impregnable. but behind this, what is there? the weakness of dissension, where there should be solidarity; division of interests, where nothing can save but union; rottenness, where there should be wholesomeness and vigor. this is not treason i speak, but truth. we have served her in field and forum, you and i; we have offered our blood on her altars; we shall both carry the marks of her service until we die. and she hath paid us well. now i am worn out, useless, and cast aside; she has taken all she would from me, even my son. but you, old friend, have still what she needs to offer. she needs gold; but more than that, she needs one, powerful as you are powerful, to come forward and point to more timid ones the way. when she enters her own once more, she will repay your loan with interest, for that hath ever been rome's way. i tell you, rome in these days is like a sinking ship, from which the rats scurry in swarms, to stand aside and wait to see if there be prospect of a safe return. here, overseas, you get but an echo of the truth. every day the call goes out for more troops, and more." eudemius nodded thoughtfully. "so the third legion is to be recalled from gaul to rome. it is what may be expected, but i had not thought so soon. their plans have been kept well secret. ætius will soon not have men enough for himself, not to speak of sending over men to our assistance. i suppose your son goes with them? it must be all of ten years since i saw him last." "he hath changed," the father answered quietly. "yes, he goes, and i go with him. come thou with us, friend! what has rome done to thee that thou shouldst not answer to her need? now, if ever, is the time when her sons must rally to her, for with all her faults--and she hath many--she is still the mother of them all. i know well that it was within her walls that thy trouble fell upon thee; but was she to blame for that?" eudemius's dark face never changed from its graven inscrutability, but his thin hands clutched the scroll tighter and let it fall. livinius eyed him tenderly. "is not the old wound healing, even yet?" he asked with great gentleness. for a moment silence fell. then eudemius, stooping from the couch to pick up the fallen roll, said in his hard and even voice, as though he discussed matters of small moment and everyday concern: "healing? nay, how should it heal when each day fresh salt is rubbed into it? take a look at it now, if you will, for hereafter we'll let it bide and rankle as it must. tell me; have not your eyes seen changes, mental as well as physical, concerning which your lips have not questioned?" "changes? in you?" said livinius, dropping into the other's more distant tone. "ay, that is true, and my heart aches to see them. that is another reason why i urge your return to rome. new scenes, new faces--your life is broken, yet a broken pitcher may be mended." "true," eudemius admitted evenly. "but who expects it to hold water again? is it not rather placed upon the shelf and forgotten--if, indeed, it be not flung upon the rubbish-heap?" "but think of this--" livinius persisted. eudemius broke in. "ay, i have thought of this and that, and this is all it comes to!" he said harshly. "that when i am gone, my name, blazoned in the annals of rome before great cæsar was, must dwindle out to nothing with a weak girl. it came to me great, unstained, heavy with memories of soldiers, heroes, statesmen, who had borne it worthily and left it clean for their sons and their sons' sons. i made it the name of wealth as well as of greatness; i thought to hand it down to my sons and my sons' sons, as the fires of vesta are handed down from one generation to the next. a son i prayed for--what any sodden carter is judged worthy to beget; a male child to uprear in the traditions of his house, to add, an he might, his share to the glory of it. a son to serve rome as his fathers served. and what was born to me? a puling fool, not worthy even to breed her kind into the world. were she blessed with wit, she might mate with one worthy of her blood and keep her name thus from complete extinction. as it is--what man would have her to bear him mindless brats? who would become sire to a race of idiots?" livinius scratched the wax of his tablet absently, and rubbed his finger over the mark. "i have wondered often why you never married again," he remarked, tentatively. "it is fifteen years since constantia's death; surely in that time you might have found a woman to become the mother of your sons." "true, i might," eudemius admitted, coolly. "but those fifteen years ago, through mine own folly and hatred of life after that double blow of her death and knowledge of the girl's condition,--for it was a blow, livinius, since i was not then the wooden image of to-day,--there fell on me the judgment of the gods for such rebellion as mine." he turned his sombre eyes full on livinius. "would you believe, to see me as i sit here, that mine is a body racked by the tortures of the damned, drained of the very sap of life by disease that eats into every nerve and leaves it raw and quivering, yet that only numbs when its fury is spent, and will not kill? that time after time, when its throes are on me, i have turned craven and begged claudius for a potion to end it all?" he laughed shortly, with no sound of merriment. "i marry again--a rotten hulk fit only for carrion!" livinius listened, shocked. "oh, my dear!" he exclaimed in honest sympathy, "is it indeed thus with thee? and i had thought of thee entering the harbor of thy rest, wealthy, honored, reconciled, perhaps, to what the gods in their wisdom had ordained for thee, to end thy days in quiet and content. for fifteen years, thou sayest. man, how hast thou lived to tell it?" eudemius smiled, a smile which began at his lips and ended there, leaving his bitter eyes unlightened. "ay, fifteen years--and yet not so bad as that!" he said shortly. "or it would have been well over with me by now. but i have known from the first what lay ahead. i won it from claudius,--poor fool, how he trembled to tell me!--knew that each attack must be more severe than the one before; that each day the disease would stride forward a slow inch, no more, and no human skill might advance it or hold it back." his harsh voice sank a note lower. "at such times, when that grip closes upon me, i know not what i do. rather, i know, yet am powerless to act otherwise. i tell thee, livinius, i have had slaves flogged, ay, tortured, before my eyes, to see if by chance i might find suffering greater than mine own. and if they died, i have had tortured those who let them die, for it is not death i want, but what i have found to be worse than death. judge then if i were not better out of the world! yet the only way of release open to me i will not take, since i have not yet lost courage enough to brand myself a coward. i have told claudius, on pain of death for disobedience, that no matter how i cry to him for peace, he shall pay no heed. strange, is it not, that in this house the only happy thing is the cause of all the sorrow that hath entered it? and yet--perhaps it is not so strange. she is but the cause; on others fall the effects, ... and in their wisdom the gods have ordered that only effects shall count in their scheme of things." he put a hand over livinius's hand, held it a moment, and let it go. for the first time he fell into the intimacy of the other's speech. "thank thee, old friend, for thy sympathy. it is not often that the gall of my bitterness overflows, for i have learned the wisdom of the stoic at first hand. but i can claim scant sympathy here,--and would not if i could,--where men call me the torturer behind my back and cringe like curs before my face. i am hard and cruel and calloused to the bone; yet were i not thus, in the name of the high gods, what should i be? a thing lower than man, who can be lower than the beasts; from which gods and men--ay, and beasts themselves--would turn in loathing. thou art my childhood's friend; thy sympathy hath been sweet to me, and i've bared my heart to thee. i have said: 'the world runs thus and so with me; were it in my power, i'd have it otherhow. as it is, no good will come of its discussion, so let there be an end to it, now and for all time.'" a quick step sounded on the marble floor; the curtains at the entrance parted, and marius came in. he went clad in spotless white, which oddly accentuated his bulk and made his swarthiness darker by contrast. he stopped short at sight of the two apparently in earnest conversation. "pardon!" he said easily. "i was told that i should find my father here, but i intrude." "not at all!" eudemius answered. "we had finished our talk, and it was over time we were brought back from the memory of other days." livinius smiled at his son as the latter sat down on the wide low ledge of the window, and his genial eyes were full of pride. eudemius caught the look, and his own eyes darkened, even though the mask of his face never changed. this indeed was a son of whom one might be proud--a son such as he himself should have had but for the mockery of the gods; a son strong of mind and body, able to hold his own against all men, to assume the burdens that one by one slipped from his father's shoulders. there was hint of dissipation in the clear-cut face; there was more than a trace of headstrong will, which might easily enough turn to sheer brutality against whoever crossed it. there was hardness, and small tenderness, in the firm jaw and the black keen eyes; but what roman father could not condone such things as these? for to roman eyes, all this went to spell strength; and romans worshipped strength as athenians worshipped beauty. and marius was strong, so that eudemius, who was strong also, with the most unbreakable strength of all, and could appreciate mere physical vigor the more since his own had gone from him, looked at him and envied the father of him with bitterness. "to-day i go on to londinium," marius said, gazing out into the sun-flecked courtyard. "will you wait here, father, for me? to-morrow i shall return, or next day at most--the business will not take long." he turned to eudemius with an explanation. "there is trouble about one of the transports which are assigned to my cohort for our return to gaul. she has been discovered unseaworthy and in need of repairs, and may not be able to start with the rest of the fleet. this is doubly inconvenient, as there is small prospect of securing a vessel to take her place, and our orders are to sail for gaul with as little delay as possible. so much misunderstanding and confusion has resulted, that i have been sent to report personally what are the chances for a start." "that is too bad," eudemius said. he was looking at marius at the moment, and marius was looking beyond him into the court. eudemius saw that all at once his face changed slightly, and his eyes awoke to a faint, curious interest. eudemius knew that nothing in his words could have aroused this, and waited. then he understood that marius was watching some one outside in the courtyard; some one whose approach he could gauge by following the man's glance. the some one came to the door that opened on the court, and stopped there, and eudemius glanced aside and saw varia on the threshold. at the same instant marius rose. she wore robes that flowed and yet were clinging, of faintest green, like the young shining leaves of springtime; and her skin glowed and her lips were crimson, and her hair was loose and tumbled. she held a ball in her hands, and stood in the doorway, hesitating, like a child who does not know whether or not it will be welcomed, and yet would like to enter and find out what was going on. in her pose there was a quaint and tender dignity, in odd contrast with her rumpled hair and the childish plaything in her hands. eudemius looked at her; and for a single instant the veil of prejudice was lifted from his eyes, and he saw that, in spite of all, this child of his was fair,--as fair as the dear dead woman who had given her to him and lived to know what she had done. for that instant hope rose in him; he shot a glance at marius and read the dawning admiration in his eyes; perhaps, after all, in some not too distant time, there might be--then he realized the futility of such hopes, that had wakened and died so many times before. marius did not know the truth. when he did know--he saw that varia did not look at either of the others, but straight at him, and he spoke to her. "come hither, child!" she came, docile, and stood near the foot of his couch. with her there seemed to enter a breath of pure fragrance, as of wind blowing softly among unspoiled, wild flowers of the country-side, of all things young and innocent and holy. livinius's face softened as he looked at her. she waited, watching her father, expecting nothing. always he had given her nothing to expect, neither unkindness nor affection. eudemius looked at livinius; from him to marius, where he stood in the window, silent, dominant even in his silence. "and this is mine!" he said, with a motion of his hand toward varia. livinius, alone understanding all that his words and tone implied, gave him a glance of mute reproach. he took varia's hand, as she stood near him, and patted it. "i am glad to know thee, dear child," he said gently. "thy father i have known these many years, but thou wert a little baby when i saw thee last. perhaps he has not told thee that i am a friend of his, and this is my son." and varia, for the first time, looked into marius's face, and smiled, saying nothing at all. she sat on the edge of the couch, the ball in her lap. "where have you been, child?" eudemius asked. "in the garden, playing ball. i am going to play again," she answered, and never thought to wonder why he frowned. but marius came over to the couch. "will you let me play also?" he asked, with a faint note of amusement in his voice. "perhaps i can show you a game you do not know, which soldiers play in camp. when they have no ball, like yours, they take a lump of bread, that is round, and very hard, and will keep for months without spoiling, and they play with that." varia jumped up. "i should like that!" she said eagerly. "i cannot show you any game, for i know none that are interesting; but i can learn yours!" the two went out into the courtyard, side by side. livinius said, in his gentle voice: "she is a dear child." and eudemius answered: "she is a bad bargain dearly bought," and turned his face away from the window. varia wearied of the new game shortly, and sat down beside the fountain to rest, with a frank intimation that her companion might go back to the house. this he showed no intention of doing, but threw himself on the grass beside her, and set himself the task of making her talk. he studied her curiously; he had seen much of many women in many lands, but none who were quite like her. her utter simplicity was baffling; artificial himself, brought up in a civilization which was artificial, he could not get it out of his mind that it was not a pose. very soon he got her mental calibre; with it got also certain surprises. she was all-innocent; yet, at times, when she sat with hands clasping her knees and looked past him, without speech or motion, as regardless of him as though he had not been there, he caught a hint in her eyes of something he could not read. it was as though she struggled to recall a memory of something gone by,--something sweet yet unholy which she did not understand, would not ask about, and could not forget. and, at other times, in the midst of her childish prattle, she would say what would make him glance at her strangely, in a voice like hers, yet whose subtle intonations were not like hers. also, he had not found many women who were at times as honestly regardless of him as though he had not been there. with all her contrarieties he found her merry, full of a primitive joy of life, touched only at moments with a haunting mystery which to his mind but added to her charm. her laughter bubbled over as water from a spring; she was careless, thought-free, light-hearted. for it is only those who remember nothing that regret nothing; and varia had neither remembrance nor what it brings. when he mounted and rode for londinium that afternoon it was with the full determination to despatch his business as quickly as might be and return. he told himself amusedly that he had been singed too often, by too many flames, to care for the feeble light of one broken lamp. this was quite true. but also he acknowledged that when other lamps were wanting, a broken one might answer for an hour. ii that night the sun went down in angry crimson that ate like fire through the sullen heart of clouds banked low along the horizon. in varia's garden the shrill insect voices were hushed; the trees drooped their leaves motionless. it was a hot and breathless night, when thunder muttered distantly and vague lightnings played hide-and-seek among the clouds, and the earth was still as an animal that crouches waiting for a blow. eudemius entered his room shortly before midnight, while the storm menaced and would not break. his thoughts still had their way with him, and they were none too happy thoughts. by the open window stood a tall standard of wrought bronze, from the arms of which seven lamps swung by chains, their flames flaring in the faint hot breeze which entered; otherwise the room was dark. eudemius drew a light couch near the window and stretched himself upon it, slowly, like one worn out by weariness and pain. the lamplight fell upon his face, and showed it less of a mask, more unguarded, grim and hollow-cheeked, stamped with the seal of suffering. a slave entered, without noise, and placed on a stand a bowl of dewy fruit, a silver pitcher of wine, and a tall cup of the exquisite samian ware, rose-pink, thin as a fragile egg shell. in the dim light it glowed like a ruby; eudemius glanced at it with a faint pleasure in its beauty. as the slave turned away, he spoke. "hath thy lady retired?" the man stopped in the doorway. "lord, i know not." "then find out. if not, bid her come to me here." the man, bending, crossed his arms before his face, and went. eudemius lay and waited, watching the wan lightning at play in the lowering sky, listening to the far-off grumble of the thunder. scents from the garden drifted to him on the warm sickly breeze; once a bat flapped past the window. his eyes grew heavy with drowsiness. but a step close at hand aroused him. he turned his head and saw varia coming toward him, her face pale in the dim light. she stopped when she reached the couch, and stood waiting in silence. eudemius rose, carefully, lest he bring on a spasm of pain, and stood under the light of the seven lamps. "come here to me, child!" he said. varia came, and stood where the light fell on her face and throat; and he took her by the shoulders and looked long at her. his dark eyes passed over her from brow to feet; noted the dusky warmth of her hair, where jewels gleamed like a coiled snake's eyes; the curves of cheek and throat, the ripening grace of her slim body, half-revealed beneath her silken robe. he studied her with an impersonal criticism, as though she were a statue with whose workmanship fault might be found. had she been a statue, he could have found no fault. "thou art fair, child," he said musingly, while she stood passive under his hands. "art thou fair enough to win him, handicapped as thou art? and yet, who would take thee, when there are others for the asking, as fair as thou and with none of thy defects? if thou didst but know how to use that beauty of thine, it might make less of difference. for men have wedded fools before this. ay, but those fools must have been half woman as well as fool; but thou--thou art all fool." he looked at her strangely; suddenly pushed aside the robe from her shoulders and laid his hands on her soft bare flesh. "ay, she's fair enough!" he muttered. "if i could but lash that torpid soul of hers to life--teach her what all other women in the world know by nature and instinct! for if she have the beauty of the immortal women, without the warm spirit of sex behind it, it will avail her nothing. passionless, she can never inspire passion. to see her mated to him--his child in her arms--a son--a son!--who should redeem for me all the bitterness and the disappointment she hath brought--would not that be better than nothing?" his hands on her shoulders shook. she glanced up at him under her lids,--a strange glance into which there flashed something that died as it came. her eyes were dilated, but she made no motion to push his hands from her. "could she win him?" eudemius's voice was not above a whisper, yet it was tense with restrained excitement. drops of sweat beaded his forehead; the cords of his neck were taut. "varia, dost know, child, what thou art?" "ay," she answered quietly. "a fool. thou hast said it." eudemius gave an exclamation of bitter impatience. "fool--yes, and child and woman as well. hast thou never thought what it might be to become as other women are? to know the kiss of a man's lips on thine--to feel his arms about thee--to listen to the tale of love that is told to all but thee--" "tale!" said varia, catching at the word. "oh, i have heard tales--wonderful tales, more wonderful than any that ever were told before! and i have known the kiss of a man's lips on mine; and i have felt a man's arms about me!" eudemius gripped her slender shoulders, staring at her, and his face worked. then he flung her away from him. "thou poor fool!" he said in contemptuous pity. he clenched his hands and strode up and down before the couch. "oh, if i could but waken thee--if i could but waken thee! i'd use thee, poor tool as thou art--i'd make thee, a worthless pawn, queen to play my game for me! thou art mine, bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, to do with as i will. sometimes my hands itch to shake into thee the sense thou lackest--or else to shake the useless life out of thee." he stopped before her, breathless with thwarted passion that time after time dashed itself like surge against the inexorable rock of circumstance, to fall back baffled and beaten. "tell me!" he said, in a voice grown suddenly calm. "child o' mine, dost think that thou couldst win a man?" it was a strange question from father to child, but then he did not see it so. and varia, looking at him, made a strange answer. "i have won a man!" she said, and her voice was slow and haunting. "body and soul i have won him; he is mine for all time to come, to do with as i will. i am a fool, but i have done this thing, and i think--" she stopped, and her voice changed and grew scornful--"i think it is but a little thing to do!" eudemius stared at her. "thou hast--" he whispered, and moistened his lips with a dry tongue. "say that again, girl! thou hast--is this thy raving? nay, tell me, who is the man?" but another mood was on varia. she laughed, like a rippling brook. "he hath no name!" she said merrily. "no name--nothing; for he is nothing! he comes in the clouds and in the storms and in the moonlight, and whispers strange things which none may hear but i. his voice is the wind and his words are the rustle of the leaves, and his speech is golden as flame; and oh, the tales he hath told to me!" eudemius laughed shortly. "at first i even thought--" he muttered, and broke off. "child, are thy women always with thee?" "ay, save at night. i sleep alone," said varia. eudemius poured wine from the silver pitcher and drank it. outside, the rain was falling with a gentle dripping. the thunder had died; the breeze, cooler, came laden with damp earthy smells. varia went to the window and knelt beside it, leaning out into the warm darkness. her father's eyes followed her. but if varia's mood had changed, his was not to be shaken off so lightly. he sat down on the couch, wiping his forehead free from sweat. here, he was close enough to touch her, and he drew her back from the window so that she leaned against the couch and his knee. "varia," he said, moved by an impulse born of what had gone before, "dost love thy father?" "nay," said varia, simply. "why should i, my lord?" "true," said eudemius. "why shouldst thou?" varia leaned her elbows on his knee, looking up at him with her chin on her hands. her attitude held the frank fearlessness of a child. "does my lord father love me?" she asked, and smiled up at him. something within him warned eudemius to honesty. "nay, varia," he said gently, and put a hand on her dark soft hair. "thy father hath never loved thee." varia suddenly rested her cheek against his other hand. "poor father!" she murmured, as though he were somehow deserving of all sympathy for this, "didst ever wish that i had not been born?" "ay," said eudemius, still gently. "i have wished that." varia considered a long moment, and he knew that her eyes were on him. "why was i born?" she asked. eudemius turned his head away. "because thy mother loved me," he said, low and harshly. "because--my mother--loved thee!" varia repeated. "now that is strange! did ever any one love thee?" eudemius started. then he laughed. "_habet!_" he exclaimed, in the language of the arena when a gladiator is down; and laughed again. "ay, child; once one loved me, and once i loved. thou canst not credit such softness in me? well, i do not blame thee; but it is truth." "i believe," said varia, "for thou hast told me truth before, to-night. if thou hadst said my father loved me, i should never have believed thy word again, but thou gavest me truth for the truth i gave to thee. i am a fool, and sometimes it is given to fools to know the truth." "and therein to be wiser than the sane," eudemius muttered. "and that is truth also." he looked at her a moment with something awakened in his face. "is there a change then, after all, in thee?" he said suddenly, deep in thought and study of her face. "thrice to-night hast thou said what i did not understand, and never thought to hear thee say. can it be that sometime in the future the dawn will break?" varia looked at him in her turn, a curious sidelong glance. in the dim light her face all at once showed strange to him, as occasionally one will see a well-known face in a new aspect--pale, with scarlet mouth and long veiled eyes. "thou art something besides the child i've known; though whether that thing be good or evil--" his speech died; he gazed at her as though he would pierce the mystery which shrouded her and learn what it was that made her alien, forgetting to finish his words. "there is a change, and i cannot fathom it. what is working in thee? or is it the delusion of mine own imaginings? thy face--thy eyes--have they changed also? mine own imaginings--vain imaginings! what is there in thy life which could have changed thee? ah, if but these next months might see thee still more changed!" varia rose from her knees beside him. "why should i be changed?" she asked. "and why wouldst have me changed? i am happy--i have been happy as i am. if the joy of life is not mine, as thou hast said so often, the sorrow of life is not mine either; and i do not wish to change!" her voice grew and gathered passion. "i fear to change, for i know not what the change might bring. i do not understand. oh, father--do not wish that i should change!" she took a step toward him with outstretched, appealing hands. eudemius watched her with critical eyes. but even as he watched, his own face changed and went gray, and he caught his breath and put a hand against his side. his body stiffened and grew rigid, while at the same time long shudders ran through it, dumb protest of tortured nerves against what was in store for it and them. "go for claudius!" eudemius gasped; and varia turned and ran. eudemius flung himself back on the couch and lay there, striving with all his iron will to hold the convulsions in check. but he began to writhe, terribly, with no sound but the whistling of his breath through locked jaws. his hand, outflung, touched the cup that glowed like a ruby on the stand beside the couch. he clutched it, and crushed its fragile beauty into atoms; and blood dripped with the wine upon the floor. a torch gleamed outside the door, and hasty feet came running. claudius, the physician, entered, very old, very small, with silver hair and beard that was like a snow-drift, followed by two slaves with lights and instruments. they lighted all the lamps, so that the room was bright as noon; and claudius took from them what he wanted, and sent them both away. then he rolled his sleeves above his elbows, and went to the couch where the silent figure lay twisting; and as he went he tucked his long white beard inside the collar of his gown. iii but the plans of marius did not fall out as he had intended. it was a month before he returned to the villa, with the prospect of remaining on british soil until another galley could be fitted out and commissioned. this was exasperating, and marius fumed secretly and swore at the delay. thinking to make the best of his enforced idleness by betaking himself to aquæ solis, the fashionable watering-place of britain, and what solace he could find there, he found himself again disappointed. the leave he applied for was granted, but as he was starting upon his journey, word was brought to him that his father was ill. he found it nothing serious, but livinius, grown querulous and childish in his fever, begged marius not to leave him. so, perforce, marius stayed, contenting himself with boar-hunting in eudemius's vast parks, and being entertained by his host. eudemius, seemingly unchanged since his illness, had not forgotten that the young tribune's eyes had once looked with favor on his daughter. and since love, like life, is but a game, and much may be done by a player who handles his pawns wisely, eudemius began to conjure up hopes which, in spite of himself, he knew might never see fulfilment. the more he saw of marius, the more he coveted his strength to prop his dying house. his fortune would be safe in marius's hands, his name would be safe in marius's keeping. for with all his faults marius had a soldier's honor, and could guard what was given to his charge. forthwith, then, eudemius began to lay silent plans; to scheme indirectly, with cautious skill. it was a new game for him; he went about it much as one ruler who seeks alliance, for political ends, with a neighboring kingdom. he was entirely consistent in his course; no thought of his daughter's desires or wishes moved him--even no thought as to whether or not she had desires or wishes on the subject. nor did he consider the personal inclinations of marius himself. the alliance would mean much for him, saving only for one thing--a thing which yet might override all advantages. this was where eudemius considered all his skill and finesse would be needed. at first eudemius mentioned this, the desire of his heart, to no living soul. he took marius with him over his estates on his tours of inspection, tours become unexpectedly frequent; he took pains to have him present when overseers came with long tax-lists and rent-rolls to render account to their lord. marius saw himself surrounded with every luxury art could devise and skill could execute, not as though brought forth for some occasion, but quite plainly in everyday use and service. life, eased for him from all exertion by the unseen hands of many slaves, became a dream of indolence and content. horses, grooms, slaves, were at his disposal; no wish of his, however lightly uttered, but was unostentatiously fulfilled. in the midst of all this he was left with no sense that it was done with a view to impress upon him the magnificence of the villa and the villa's lord. he took it as he was intended to take it, and as it was, as a matter of course, since all his life he had been accustomed to wealth and the luxury it might bring. and, being so accustomed, he was able to appreciate justly the amount of money it must take to maintain such an establishment in such a style. he listened to the reports of overseers and stewards, all unaware that he was meant to do so; by degrees his own and his father's fortunes came to seem by contrast mean and small. he fell readily enough into ways which, reasonable for eudemius, were extravagant for him. but, in spite of his inclinations toward the life sybaritic, it was plain that he had no intention of getting himself in debt to eudemius in any shape or form. when eudemius judged the time to be ripe, he brought varia upon the scene. this he did after his own fashion, studying carefully each effect that she should make, with an artist's eye and a mind that would stop at no subterfuge to gain its end. livinius was convalescent, though still weak and unable to leave his bed, when eudemius went upon a day to his apartments and was admitted. livinius lay in bed, looking gentler and frailer than of old, with a slave reading to him from the _de ira_ of seneca. he signed to the latter to leave, and held out a hand to his friend. "sit by me here, if you will," he said. "i have much to ask, and, i doubt not, you to tell. that worthy physician of yours is dumb as any oyster. were it not for my boy bringing me scraps of news now and again, i should indeed feel out of touch with the world." eudemius seated himself beside the bed, his back, as usual, to the light. "the world wags to its own appointed end," he said carelessly. "have you heard, then, that rome has again refused to send troops to our aid? verily, britain is left to struggle with her independence like a dog with a bone too large for it. there is but a sorry time in store for us, if present indications point aright. you have asked me often to go back with you to rome, and i have been long considering it. but rome has twenty strong men where britain has one, and i think that my place is here. to my mind, the people of the land, seeing those in power withdrawing, and not knowing what to do of themselves, will turn like sheep to any who will stand by them. why, man, if one played his game with skill in this coming crisis, and kept from joining in the panic into which others have flung themselves headlong, he might make his power here little short of absolute, and reap his reward when rome has settled her affairs and the storm has blown over. one might become a second carausius, another constantine. already, since the troops of ætius have gone, folk believe they hear that endless storm muttering again in the west and south, and tell tales of new invasions of jutes and saxons. it is a fact also that merchants going north require a double bonus on the goods they take. what britain will do without the hand to hold to which has led her for so long, is a question which no man can answer and all men ask. but these be weighty topics to concern a sickroom, and i have other matters to discuss with thee." livinius turned inquiring eyes upon him, but eudemius was staring past him, thoughtfully. "a matter which touches me nearly," he said, and all at once dropped into a more familiar mode of speech. "thou art my oldest friend, and there is none to whom i would sooner speak in confidence. thou knowest that i am growing old. soon the gods of the shades will lay their hands upon mine eyes, and my daughter and my house will be left alone. and a heavy time of trial it will be for her, incompetent, with the burden of my wealth upon her. were it not for this, i could willingly leave all this; but some one first i must find to charge himself with that burden for the recompense it may bring him. and there is but one way to do this; i must mate her to some worthy man. if he be in humble circumstances, her gold shall alter that; if he be great, it shall make him greater. to take her with it would be, after all, but a little thing, since she is too much a child to want more than is given her, and is content with little. with her unmated, as she is, fancy what would follow were she alone. no--it needs a strong hand to guard what i have guarded; but it is a task well worth the taking. and it is in my mind that i have found that strong hand i seek--if so it be that the owner thereof is willing." he paused, to see that the sick man's eyes were on him in quickened interest. "that man, friend," eudemius said slowly, "is thy son. him i would have, and none other, to reign in my stead and take the place of that son denied me, who was to rear his children in the traditions of my house and his. what say you to this, friend, if it chances that marius himself is willing?" for a moment there was a pause. livinius lay back on his pillows, and his face was a battleground of contending thought. plainly it said: "power is great, but gold is greater, since it can purchase power; therefore gold is a good thing to have. yet no bargain was ever offered without a 'but,' and what goes with this bargain of thine, o friend? an incubus which a man might well hesitate to let fasten upon him; a hindrance to himself and, it may be, a menace to generations yet unborn. and yet, the prize is worth risking much for, and the temptation is great." at this point came wavering, uncertainty, a look of greed, cautious and eager. eudemius, watching, let the battle wage itself. when livinius finally spoke, it was slowly, weighing his words with care. "you have spoken with all the frankness one friend could wish from another. it is only meet that i too should be as frank. if my words offend, remember that it is i who shall grieve most. your daughter, fair though she is, and lovely, is yet a child, despite her years,--a child who needs the care and thought which only love can give. needing all, she could give nothing save herself to her husband; and man's needs are of the spirit as well as of the flesh. and suppose he wanted not the gift; what would there be for him? you see, i set aside all mention of her dower; for though a man may marry gold, he must marry the woman also. i have watched marius from his cradle; i have marked when his nature followed the lines along which i strove to train it, and when it turned of itself into new channels of its own. and of these channels, some, i confess, ran widely counter to those which i had planned. no parent ever saw a child grow precisely to the measure of the ideal of which he dreamed; it may be that every father under the sun is doomed to disappointment at some trait or other in the child of his flesh." eudemius looked away from him, nodding soberly. "so it hath been with me," said livinius. "marius has been a good son; but a good man he has not been. for a bad man may make a good son, even though a bad son never makes a good man. but i am not blind, and year by year have i watched the changes in him, some for the better, some for the worse. when he was a child i chastised; when he was a youth i counselled; when he became a man i could do no more than stand aside and watch him start upon the road he had marked out for himself. and i tell you, eudemius,--and you may guess if the words come easily,--that were i in your place i would not give my daughter, being what she is, to such a man as he. for her sake as well as his i say this. he is my son, and my house is his home for so long as he wills it, and what i have is his. but to your daughter, young, innocent, knowing nothing of the world, and less than nothing of men, he would bring only unhappiness and woe. she could not understand him; he would be at no pains to understand her. whether love might raise him to its own height, i dare not say; rather i fear that he would lower it to him. he is passionate, yet cold; but he is strong, and to men he is loyal and a lasting friend. he is a soldier through and through; no mistress, were she never so madly loved, could come before his sword. for to him, arms mean ambition and the fame he has set himself to gain; love is a dalliance by the way, pleasant for the hour, soon forgotten. sorry sport for a wife, you see! there you have him, as i, his father, know him. and how can i, his father, say these things of him, who should stand with him against all the world? because he needs not my help to win his battles; and there is one who in my mind may need it sorely." and again there was a silence. eudemius rose. "thank thee, friend," he said. "thy words have made me to hunger all the more for that son of thine. mine also he shall be, if i can compass it. what need he give her but a name?--and that, in good sooth, it will not hurt him to bestow." he turned on his heel and went away; and livinius looked after him long and gravely. when marius entered, some time later, it was to find his father alone and in deep thought. marius inquired how he had been feeling that day, and if he thought his strength returning. livinius answered abstractedly. he was aware that eudemius's plan was taking root in his mind; coming to weigh its pros and cons, he found that after all it might not be such a bad thing for marius--and himself. he motioned marius to seat himself. marius obeyed, waiting for what his father might have to say. but livinius kept his abstracted silence, and presently marius himself spoke. "will eudemius return with you to rome?" livinius shook his head thoughtfully. "i fear not. i have tried to persuade him, but--i think his plans lie here. for one thing, he does not like the idea of going back with that daughter of his." marius turned a slow glance on his father. "it is a pity about that girl," he said indifferently. "she is very fair--as fair as any of rome's beauties." "and as wealthy. when her father hath undergone his fate, his estates will pass to her," said livinius. he did not look at his son, and his voice was careless. "it is a pity," marius repeated, noncommittally. livinius put his own construction upon the words. "you mean--her misfortune? ay, true. but many a man would overlook even that for sake of the gold she would bring him." "and that is true also," marius said. "and yet--it were a risky thing for a man to give his sons a mother found so wanting." so that livinius knew that marius's thoughts, like his own, had strayed into those paths wherein eudemius would lead them. he changed the subject then, speaking of the delayed transport and affairs in gaul. then he became weary, being still weak, and marius left him. the next evening, marius, returning from hunting to the villa just before dusk, unwontedly thoughtful over prospects which his mind was beginning to conjure up, to look at, and play with, as it were, was met by a slave who said that the lady varia sent word that she wished to see him on his return. somewhat surprised at this, for he had scarcely seen her, much less spoken with her, since his arrival from londinium, he followed the man to the door of her apartments. here he passed a second slave, a tall fellow with a shock of black, unkempt hair, who was trimming a lamp near by. this one turned his head to watch him as he entered, with fierce wolf eyes into which leaped sudden jealous distrust. but a slave was a slave to marius; and so heedless was he of the man's presence, that later he could not have told whether or not he had been there. just inside the door marius's guide crossed his arms before his face, bending low, and left him, as though at an order. marius, again surprised at this, stood and waited. the room, lofty and warm and floored with exquisite tiling, seemed to overlook a garden, where dusk was gathering fast. it was furnished sumptuously, and was filled with flowers which stood in great jars of gorgeous eastern coloring. halfway down its centre ran one of the dwarf walls so common in roman rooms, which was made to serve as the back of a low and cushioned couch on either side of it. a lamp of wrought bronze stood near, and by its light marius saw that a figure was lying on the couch, with head thrown back against the cushions and one white arm hanging over the side. "lady varia?" marius exclaimed. she did not answer, and he saw that she seemed asleep. he went to the couch, walking softly, with a faint wonder as to why she had sent for him. she lay with long lashes sweeping her cheeks and her warm lips parted, in the careless abandon of a child, infinitely graceful, full of allurement. the thought entered his mind that it was a pose, a piece of pretty trickery. he bent down until his lips all but touched her cheek and the perfume of her hair rose to him, so that had she been feigning she must have given sign, or else been better skilled in the gentle art of flirting than he believed. but she slept on, unconscious, with slow, regular breathing, so still that he could see the beat of her heart under the filmy stuff of her tunic. and even as he watched her, so another, unseen, watched him,--another with gaunt, haggard face and calculating eyes that took in every move of his pawns in the game to which he had set them. with his father's words, in which he had read the hint, clear in his mind, marius stood looking long at the sleeping girl. patrician she was from the crown of her dusky head to the tip of her jewelled sandal. fair she was,--and his breath came shorter as his gaze wandered unchecked over her,--eminently desirable, and yet--he found himself confronted by the unavoidable fact of her affliction. a man might well hesitate in face of all that it could mean. one could not tell--that was the trouble. he realized, all at once, that her eyes were open, and that she was looking at him, without speech or motion. he drew back, with a certain wholly unconscious veiling of expression, and spoke. "you sent for me, lady varia?" she raised herself on an elbow, pushing the hair out of her eyes to look up at him. with the motion, the jewelled fibula which held her tunic at the shoulder became unfastened, letting the drapery slip lower over snowy neck and arm. he noticed that if she saw this, she made no effort to replace it. "sent for you? not i!" she said, and tapped her fingers on her lips to stifle a yawn. "or if i did, i have forgotten. why should i have sent for you?" she let herself sink back in the cushions, and he pulled a seat near the couch and sat down. she began to play idly with the coiled golden snake around her bare arm, looking down at it with long sleepy eyes. again, as once before, the novelty of this lack of attention piqued him into a passing interest. "if i disturb you, i will go away," he offered. "you were sleeping; it were pity to disturb such sweet repose." "you do not disturb me," she answered, with all calmness, not looking at him. "why should you? if you like to stay, you may. i am not asleep now." "did you have pleasant dreams?" marius asked, as he might have asked it of a child. she turned scornful eyes on him. "i do not dream asleep!" she said. "only when i wake. what are dreams but thoughts, and how can one think, asleep?" he looked at her, surprised. she relapsed into silence, unwound the snake from her arm, at length, and took to turning it over and over in her fingers, letting the light play on its emerald eyes and the rich chasing of its scales. he continued to watch her, with greater freedom under her entire indifference. he felt that, if he should get up and leave her, she would take no notice, but lie there just the same, drowsy-eyed and indifferent, turning and turning the golden snake. this slipped from her fingers after a time and dropped to the floor at his feet. he picked it up, and as she held out her hand to receive it back, he clasped her wrist gently and began to coil the snake about her arm, above the elbow. she let him do it; emboldened, he kept her hand, when the jewel was in place, and pressed it gently. but she drew it away, not as though in rebuke, however, and examined the armlet to see that it was on properly. "is it not right?" marius asked, amused. "let me do it again; this time i will make sure." she shook her head, with a slow smile at him. greatly daring, he leaned nearer, and fastened the loosened pin on her shoulder. in the operation, his fingers touched her soft flesh. but she seemed not to notice him at all; so that quite suddenly he felt baffled and perplexed. "you are a strange girl!" he said abruptly. again she smiled. "why?" she asked. "because you cannot understand me, you call me strange?" he laughed. "perhaps that is it, o my lady wisdom. but truly i begin to think you a riddle worth the reading. it may be, that with somewhat of teaching, you might prove a pupil apt enough for any man." she looked at him eagerly. "is it a game?" she asked. "you taught me one before, and i liked it. wilt teach me also this other game? is it a good game?" "ay," said marius, amusement in his voice. "it is a good game--the finest game in the world, for the one who wins. and, indeed, i have it in mind to teach thee, thou pretty witch, the more so since i should have the methods of no other to unteach. see, then, i'll show thee the first move. give me thy hand--so." varia held out her hand, leaning back on her pillows with eager eyes of anticipation. marius took the hand. it was small and soft and fragrant, with rosy, polished nails. "this, you must know, is a game at which but two can properly play," he explained, as a schoolmaster might propound theories to a class. "three have sometimes tried it, but the third in most cases has wished he had kept away. most players divide it into three parts, for the sake of convenience. the first, for the woman; the second, for the man; the third, usually, for the lawyers. this latter may be played in various ways--sometimes is omitted altogether. a great advantage of this game is that so many rules govern it, that whatever one does, is in accordance with some rules, even though it may be at variance with certain others." he turned the little hand over and kissed the palm. "certain things there be which every player should possess," he added in the same tone. "for the woman, beauty--or if not this, a cleverness which is clever enough to manifest itself only in results. also, if a woman hath not beauty, it is imperative that she be an adept at the game. innocence, in one party, not in both, is a valuable asset, since one of the objects of the game is the winning of it. were both to have it, it would become in very truth a child's game. wealth is also a good thing to have,--and this for both players,--since one or both are apt to pay dearly in the end. and wealth is also nearly always an object in the game. it hath many points, you see, which must be remembered." "i fear it is a hard game," said varia, and shook her head in doubt. "i--i cannot remember things very well sometimes." "even that hath been found an advantage at times," said marius, and laughed softly. he changed his place and sat on the edge of the couch beside her, and possessed himself of her other hand. varia glanced from her prisoned fingers to his face and back again. "the game may be played fast, or it may be played slowly," said marius, his eyes on her perplexed face. "in most cases, the faster the better, lest one or other of the players should tire. what say you, sweetheart--shall ours be short and therefore merrier?" he drew her back into his arms, and raised her face with his free hand and kissed her lips. "no!" said varia, quickly, and struggled slightly to sit up. "yes--that is in the game!" said marius, and would not let her go. "does it come hard at first, my sweet? never mind--soon you will like it better. besides, i have told you that it is part of the game. so--rest quiet, and i will show you how else it goes." in her eyes he read a struggle to recall something gone before and all but forgotten; a mental groping, painful in its intensity. she ceased her resistance, and he drew her closer and kissed her many times, with a growing passion which surprised himself. her breath came quicker, but in her eyes was only the dumb striving after things forgotten, with no fear at all nor anger with him. his lips strayed where they would; in her strange absorption she seemed scarcely conscious of him. "truly i did well to call thee strange!" marius said low in her ear. "did one not know the facts of the case he might well count thee as good a player as himself." varia wrenched her hands from his and sat up. so swift was her motion that he had let her go before he knew it. she put her hands to her temples. "but i have played this game before!" she cried, unheeding him. "i know now--oh, i know now! thou wilt tell me that i am beautiful, and that thou lovest me, and thou wilt say that all is not well with thee for the pain thou hast. and i will stroke thy head to ease the pain, as sometimes my lord father will have me do. that is how the game goes. and marcus comes and tries to play as he came before; he was the third, as thou hast told, who wished that he had not. but it should be in the garden; it was in the garden before!" "now what is this raving?" marius exclaimed, wholly uncomprehending. he tried to take her again, but she slid off the couch and escaped him. he pursued and caught her, but instead of the passive yielding he expected, he met resistance which was unlooked-for. "no! i'll have no more!" she cried. "let me go--i do not wish to play this game with thee! always he stops when i bid him--thou must do the same. i do not like this thy way. he is not rough, but gentle, and i do not fear him. oh, let me go!" "thou hast played this game before, then?" said marius. "be still, girl! i'll not hurt thee, but i will not let thee go. is there more in this than i had fancied? are thy words mere idle raving? by the gods, i think not! answer me what questions i shall ask, and i'll let thee go, not sooner. i have a mind to know the truth of this!" she stood still, half in tears, breathing fast, like a frightened child. "hast thou played this game before?" marius asked. "ay," she murmured, like a child brought to task, and tried again to release herself as though to escape punishment. "with a man didst thou play it?" "ay, with a man." "what man?" she ceased her futile efforts to escape, and wrung her hands helplessly. "i will not tell! he said that if my lord father knew it he would be displeased!" she wept. "i think it likely that he would," said marius, grimly. "but to tell me would not be telling him. it may be that i can help thee. there, never cry like that! am i not thy friend?" "i know not!" she sobbed. "oh, i am frightened! let me go, i pray thee!" "tell me first!" marius persisted. he cast a hasty glance around. "quick, for we shall not be alone much longer. tell me, i say!" she only wept, her face hidden in her hands. marius's temper, a fragile thing at best, gave way. "never think to keep it from me! i'll have it whether thou wilt or no," he said roughly. the idea of an intruder upon what he had suddenly come to consider his own domain was not to be tolerated. varia again struggled, with violence, and finding herself held fast, screamed loudly. "hush, little fool!" marius exclaimed. "i am not hurting thee!" "let the girl go, lord!" said a voice behind them. marius turned his head, to see a figure bearing down upon them, lean and tall, with a shock of black hair and angry eyes. varia, turning at the same instant in marius's grasp, saw the man, and cried: "make him to let me go! he hath tried to make me tell thy name--do not thou tell it!" "so!" marius exclaimed in triumph, catching the clew. "thou art the man--thou!" his tone held wrath and amazed disgust. the slave stood his ground. "let the girl go!" he repeated. it might well have been that never had a man used such a tone to marius in his life before. from a slave it was not to be brooked. "get you gone, you dog!" he said savagely. "later i'll settle with you, if it be that my suspicions be correct. how dare you enter here unbidden?" "i heard my lady cry out," nicanor answered. varia's voice broke into his speech. "i tell thee make him to let me go! he is a beast, and i hate him--i hate him!" rather than prolong the scene before a slave, marius let her go. she ran to nicanor and caught his arm. "take me away!" she cried through tears. "i will not stay with him!" "it were best that you should go," marius agreed promptly. "as for you, fellow--" "he shall come with me!" varia said imperiously. "you will harm him--i will not have him stay. go yourself, bad man!" "there will be no harm done, my lady," nicanor said gently. there was all possible respect in his voice, but varia went, obedient, with a last look backward on the threshold. marius turned upon nicanor. "now, who are you?" he asked curtly. "you see me--a slave," nicanor made reply. his voice was sullen; he was cornered, and he knew it. also he was powerless, unable to strike a blow in his own defence; and who would see that justice was done a slave? marius sat down on the couch and eyed him. nicanor returned his gaze with watchful eyes alert for any move. "i have seen your face before!" marius said suddenly, awaking to a consciousness of the fact. nicanor answered nothing. the two eyed one another in silence, neither yielding an inch, the roman coldly haughty, the slave always watchful. "hast ever held communication with the lady varia?" marius asked. "i have served her," nicanor answered. marius laughed, looking him up and down as though he had been a horse put up for sale. "so i begin to think!" he muttered. "after what fashion, dog?" nicanor's eyes blazed beneath their shaggy brows; his brown hands clenched in fury. "as a servant should," he said harshly. again marius laughed. "so! that drew blood, did it? what has passed between you? have you, you base-born clod, dared draw her attention to you, and she a noble's daughter? speak, you fool, if you would not die the death!" nicanor raised his head slowly and looked his questioner in the eyes, a defiance as direct as insolent bravado could make it. marius's thin lips drew tighter. "you refuse to answer, do you? do you know that for this you will be broken on the rack at the lifting of my finger? and if you refuse to speak, this shall be done before another day is past. you have a chance now which you will not have again, to deny or to confess. and it is not every one who would give it!" "my lord hath not questioned me. to no other am i accountable," said nicanor. marius grunted scornfully. "you fool! do you think your silence can save you? i'll have the story from lady varia; how may she withhold it? her own lips shall seal your guilt, as already they have convicted you." this was true. nicanor knew it, but he did not flinch. all that was left to him was to die game, and this he knew also. marius all at once wearied of his examination. "be off with you!" he ordered insolently. "i'll have you cringing yet before i am through with you." nicanor turned on his heel, with no obeisance such as a slave should make, and strode out of the room. marius gave a short, angry laugh. "the brute will not whine! by all the furies, he's worth the breaking. now, methinks, i have my scornful lady where i want her--and my lord as well. this slave may be a weapon worth the having, since my foot is on his neck also. we shall soon see!" iv that night eudemius and his younger guest supped alone, with but one slave to wait upon them. marius, never prone to speech, kept his own counsel as to the events of the afternoon, and bided the time when he might turn them to his own ends. eudemius also was more silent than his position as host seemed to warrant. that he was in bad humor was to be seen from the threatening glances he cast at the luckless slave when a dish was delayed or a wine too warm. he was an old man, this latter, white-haired and bent and very skilful, with a sunken face as pale as parchment. marius, as keen to observe as he was silent, saw that always the old man watched his lord's face with an eager anxiety, like a dog that would read every thought in its master's eyes. eudemius, as was his custom, took only fruit and one of the light cyprus wines. marius, not at all disturbed by his host's example, dined luxuriously and drank freely. wine had small effect on him; but he noticed that each time his glass was filled eudemius glanced at him, with apparent carelessness. this amused him, and, sure of himself, out of sheer perversity, he took care to have it replenished many times. halfway through the meal, eudemius clapped his hands. "marcus, come hither!" he said shortly. marcus came, with servile submission. "go to nerissa, and bid her bring her mistress here. she will know what to do." the old man hesitated a bare instant, with a strange glance at his lord, crossed his arms, and went. "marius." marius's keen wits, instantly at work upon the name and the half-forgotten idea it conjured up, found the thread they sought. "marcus came once and tried to play; he was the third," varia had said. marius's eyes lightened to a secret satisfaction. here was one, at his hand, who could supply the information he wanted. he leaned forward across the table. "to-day i had speech with thy daughter," he said, as one introducing a topic which may prove of interest. eudemius turned his inscrutable eyes on him. "so?" he said calmly. "she told me a wondrous tale of a man who came to her in a garden," said marius; and watched suspicion grow into the other's eyes and burn there. "she said it was a game they played--what game, thou and i may guess. i put it down to the--fancies she hath at times, and paid no heed. but when she said that one marcus had seen this man there also, it came to me that perhaps there might be more in it than might be thought. if this be the marcus of whom she spoke, it may be that he would have something to tell.--try these roasted snails, i pray thee; they are beyond praise. it would seem that they are delicate enough--" "she herself hath said--" eudemius began, and stopped. the mask of his face never changed; only his mouth settled into sterner lines and his eyes grew more forbidding. silence fell between the two and lasted until marcus came in again and held the curtains apart for varia. she entered quickly, her bosom heaving, lips pouting, eyes full of tears. "nerissa would have it that i should wear this dress, and i hate it!" she cried petulantly, before either man could speak. "she said that thou didst will it so. wherefore? i will not wear it ever again. i scolded her until she wept, but she made me wear it." "she was right. i gave command to her," eudemius said coldly. "sit there." varia dropped into the seat opposite marius, with a resentful glance at her father and a wrathful twitch of the hated robe. it was of faintest amethyst, with tunic embroidered in gold, fastened by many jewels. she looked like a fair young princess, a very angry young princess; and marius, from where he reclined at ease on the opposite side of the table, looked across at her with quite evident admiration. "why should you hate it, if unworthy man may ask?" he said amusedly. "surely not because you think it makes you less fair, since nothing could do that. why, then?" "because i do!" she flashed at him, as though that settled the matter. marius bowed in mock humility. "the best reason of all!" he said gallantly. "child, with whom didst thou play thy game in the garden?" eudemius asked. his voice was gentler than his face, and quite casual. varia fell into the trap. she looked up eagerly. "it was a game--" she began, and stopped, with the red blood flushing into her face and her eyes turning from her father to marius. "i do not remember!" she stammered. eudemius turned his sombre eyes full on her, and she shrank and trembled. "thou dost not remember?" eudemius said in his even, inexorable voice. "but there was a game? was it a game in which a man held thee in his arms and kissed thee?" she nodded quickly. "ay, a game," she exclaimed, and caught herself up. "no, no!" she cried fearfully. "it was no game--oh, i do not know! i cannot remember!" she hid her face in her hands and wept. eudemius motioned to the silent slave behind her chair. "take her to her nurse and return," he said. "i'll have the truth of this by some means." marcus led his weeping mistress away; and eudemius saw that marius's eyes followed her until the curtains fell behind her, and read the look therein. with her exit, eudemius all at once lost his composure. he sprang from his place at the table and took to striding up and down the room. unexpectedly he stopped before marius. "if there be truth in this," he said, and his voice shook with rising fury, "i'll find the man who hath entered my gates by night, and for what damage he has wrought i will make him pay tenfold with living flesh and blood. marcus was there, thou sayest; he will know. and if he will not tell--if he thinks to shield him--" he broke off with a quick intake of breath, and put a hand to his side. a spasm of pain crossed his pale face and distorted it. "come back, thou knave, while i have sense to question!" he muttered, and dropped into the nearest seat, and sat there, with head bent forward and hands clutching claw-like the arms of the chair. marcus entered, alone. eudemius raised his head. "didst thou--" he began, and stopped. but he gathered himself together, and tried again. "didst thou see him who entered the women's place by stealth to hold speech with thy mistress?" marcus nodded eagerly. his voice was drowned in eudemius's exclamation of fury. "so the fool spake truth when i thought she raved! not so much fool after all, perhaps, but better fool than--" he checked himself on the word. "who is the man?" again his face grew distorted; on the hands that gripped his chair the veins stood out dark and swollen. pain made him brutal; he glared at marcus with the bloodshot eyes of a goaded beast. marcus, with a hoarse cry, bowed himself to the ground, his hands before his face. eudemius brought his fist down on the arm of his chair. "who is the man? answer, slave, if thou wouldst keep the flesh on thy living bones! who is the man, and what hath been his work?" then marcus raised himself, with outstretched hands, gesticulating frantically. the effort he made to speak was fearful; his face became congested, his eyes seemed starting from his head. and his voice was as fearful, hoarse, bestial, with apish gibberings. but no words came; he could only beat the air and cry out in impotent despair. "the man is mad!" marius exclaimed, staring. eudemius lifted himself half out of his chair. beads of sweat stood thick upon his forehead. "mad or sane, i'll have the truth from him!" he snarled. he caught the dog-whip from the back of his chair and lashed the slave across the face. "now speak!" he shouted. "think not to shield him so, for i'll have thee flayed alive before thou shalt defy me thus!" "i--i!" groaned marcus. the word had a strange and guttural sound, but eudemius did not notice. "go on!" he ordered furiously. "i--i--!" marcus screamed, and fell grovelling at his master's feet. a spasm of pain shook eudemius and turned him livid. he kicked savagely at the writhing figure on the floor and clapped his hands thrice loudly. two slaves came running, with faces pale with apprehension. eudemius, almost beyond speech himself, raised a shaking hand and pointed downward at the heap. "take him to the stone room and put him to the rack until he is ready to say what i would hear!" he said hoarsely. his voice broke into a gasp; he leaned back heavily, with his other hand against the chair from which he had risen. "when he is ready, call me!" the men lifted marcus to his feet and took him away. marius watched interestedly. to counsel mercy never crossed his mind--the mind of a roman bred to consider bloodshed a sport and mortal strife a pastime. if eudemius chose to kill his slave for a whim--well, the slave was his, and it was nobody else's business. he turned to the table and poured himself another glass of wine. eudemius dropped back heavily into the chair and sat, as before, with head bent slightly forward and gripping hands. and, as before, he seemed listening; only this time it was with a cruel and eager greed, and his eyes, bloodshot and terrible, were as the red eyes of a vulture that waits for its victim's death. from time to time his mouth twitched, and a shudder, long and uncontrollable, ran through him. but still he waited, and there was silence in the room. v that day nicanor had been assigned by hito to the squad of the fire slaves, whose duty it was to tend the fires of the hypocausts which warmed the guest apartments, the rooms of the master's family, the banquet halls, and the baths. the great fireplaces, one for every hypocaust, built in arches under the outer walls of the villa, were approached from the outside by passages of rough masonry. from them the hot air was carried back through the hypocaust and led to the rooms above by means of an ingenious system of flue tiles. the fires, burning constantly from the first approach of the keen weather of autumn, needed incessant attention. all day slaves went back and forth, carrying wood and buckets of mineral coal from the great mines near uriconium, through the narrow alleys to the roaring furnaces, where the air, smoke-laden and acrid, was hot to suffocation. here, panting, dripping with sweat, they fed the flaming mouths; then back again into the outer air, which by contrast struck knife-like to the very vitals. the colder the weather and the greater the necessity for fires, the more was the suffering of the slaves increased. the feeding and attendant cleaning of the furnaces was a task given usually either to none but the lowest menials or else as punishment. hence nicanor knew himself in hito's black books, and obeyed his orders with an ill grace which did not tend to lighten his labors. once that day already he had shirked his duty, driven by restless longing, to stand outside the door which for him hid all the enchantment of the world, until the coming of marius had sent him about any task he could lay hand to. with what had followed, and with the knowledge that his fate was absolutely in the hands of marius, he became impatient at the delay. the sword hung above him and would not fall. if he but knew what was to happen he fancied that he might have prepared himself in a measure to meet it. nothing in the way of escape could be attempted until after nightfall; he was too much the object of hito's malicious attention for that. and escape meant escape from varia, from stolen, memory-haunting visits, from all that just then made life bearable. suspense and his own powerlessness turned him sullen; he went about his tasks under hito's eye with a dogged surliness at which his fellow-slaves laughed in private and dared not challenge him in good-natured raillery. away from hito, he straightway forgot what was in his hands, and remained deep in boding thought, his face lowering. he was on the edge of a precipice into whose depths no man dared look; into which marius's hands might plunge him at will. thoughts of thorney, of the churned-up waters of the fords, of the camp-fires glowing through dusk, of the nervous press of men and beasts that lit upon the island like a swarm of bees, and, like a swarm, buzzed awhile and settled to brief rest, crowded upon him then. he would go back to thorney--though never to the ivory workshop--and he would make enough to live on by telling tales to those who circled about the fires, even though these were not the worlds he had dreamed of conquering. and first of all, and somehow, he must free himself from the welded collar of brass about his throat. with this to brand him for what he was, the first man he met along the highway might return him to his master--if he could--and claim reward. the slaves' quarters, following the general plan of the house, were built around a square inner court, with a cryptoporticus, or covered gallery, at the northern and southern ends. but here were no polished floors of rich design and coloring; no soft couches and brilliant draperies, no marbles and paintings. there were no hypocausts beneath to warm the rooms to summer heat; these, small and bare as cells, were always cold. on the eastern side of the court were housed the women slaves; on the western, the men. between these, on the northern end, were the apartments of the freedmen and stewards and overseers, with their offices. on the southern side, to the right of the main entrance to the court, were the storerooms leading down to the dark coldness of the wine-cellars. to the left of the entrance were the kitchens, with stoves, and with hypocausts beneath them. outside the walls, singly and in groups, were the wattled huts of the field-hands, who cared for the parks and immediate lands of the villa, and who came twice daily to the great house to be fed. in such a household, where economy was a lost word and extravagance the order of life, the stewards and overseers who managed it, being accountable only to their lord, were vested with much power, and made the most of it. head and front of them all was hito, fat and shining, with glinting pig's eyes. no detail of the great establishment was too trivial for his notice. supposed to have general control over each division of slaves, which in turn was managed by its own headman, he yet had a finger in all businesses. like all men of his stamp, he went in mortal fear of ridicule; thought to show his power by abuse of it. on his word alone a slave might be put to the rack; let an unfortunate incur his displeasure, and he had endless ways of revenge. his predominating characteristic was an oily sleekness; the very voice of him was smooth with unctuousness. violent likes and dislikes he took, and was in a position to gratify both, a bad enemy and a worse friend. and his methods had but one trait in common,--an entire and often apparently irrational unexpectedness. it was the one thing which in him might be relied on; he would do the thing he was least expected to do. after the evening meal came a period of respite for those not on duty at the house. much license was carried on at such times, at which hito discreetly winked--unless he held a grudge against some luckless one. even he had been known to take a hand himself in various affairs, using his official authority to gain his private ends. dusk deepened, and night fell. hito rolled to the door of his office and stood looking out into the court, picking his teeth with grunts of well-fed content. a slave was lighting a brazier of charcoal near the well in the centre of the court. the bit of blazing tinder, which he nursed carefully between his hands, threw its light up into his face and showed it in relief against the darkness, sombre, strongly marked, with a thatch of black bushy hair. hito, recognizing him, scowled with an instantly aroused antagonism. "nicanor!" he shouted. nicanor lifted the brazier by its handle and came. when he reached hito, he set it down, for it was heavy. hito jerked his head at it. "where are you taking that?" he demanded. if he had thought nicanor had been trying to steal it, he could not have thrown more suspicion into his voice. "to the rooms of the lady varia," nicanor answered. from his tone it was plain that the antagonism was mutual. "who commanded it?" "her nurse." even hito had nothing to say to this. but, bound to show his authority, he thought to have the last word. "well, leave it, and i will send another. i have a thing for you to do." "no!" said nicanor. hito's little pig eyes glinted. "so be it! take it, then," he said, and his voice was smooth as oil. "you can still do what i would have--perhaps even better. now pay attention. when you go to our lady's apartments, look well around and see one of her women there. she is, i know, on duty at this time, but in what room i do not know. speak with her, if you can, and say that i, hito, am willing to see her to-night, and that i expect her. she will understand! say that i wait for her,--she will know where,--and if she does not come, i will find out why." he crossed his arms on his fat chest. "if she is not in the outer room i cannot seek her. i am no eunuch," said nicanor, shortly. "maybe she will be there," hito replied. "see, this is how you shall know her. look for one with black hair, with dark brows and eyes blue, white in the face and somewhat lean, as though consumed by inward fires,--of passion, you understand! be sure and say to her that if she doth not come, i will find out why." he hugged himself gently, leering at nicanor. "and--nicanor, i ask this as a friend, not require it as a service; wherefore--you understand?--nothing need be said about it. i would not get the poor girl into trouble, but seeing that she urgeth so--" nicanor looked unmoved upon his fat smirk. "i will do as you command," he said, and picked up the brazier and turned to go. "nay, never say command," hito said in haste, and deigned to lay a hand on the slave's broad shoulder. "i do but ask it of you in all friendship. therefore you should be grateful that i, hito, admit you thus to confidence. for, look you, there be reasons; this, one might say, is--not official." nicanor's grim lips relaxed to a half smile. "i will do it, then, since hito craves it," he said, and went his way across the court. hito shook his heavy jowls in rage. "dog!" he muttered. "'hito craves' forsooth! i'll have that up against you, mighty lordling, one of these fine days! in the name of the gods, what is one to do with a fellow who cares not the snap of his finger for any punishment i can devise?" nicanor went along the covered gallery leading from the slaves' quarters to the mansion. at intervals he shifted the heavy brazier from hand to hand. the heat of the smouldering charcoal in it rose to his face, gratefully warm. when he reached the anteroom of lady varia's apartments, going by the rear passages, he found no one. the room, warmed to summer heat, and filled with flowers, was empty. perfumed lamps burned low, swinging from their bronze and silver standards; in a curtained recess in the wall a marble minerva gleamed shadowed white, half concealed by curtains of dusky red. a silver jar of incense, burning before the shrine, tinged the air with faint fragrance. all was quiet and peaceful, a safe and sheltered nest. from the other inner rooms he could hear voices; a girl's voice steadily intoning sonorous blank verse; at intervals another voice, interrupting, slow and languid, that set his heart beating hard and his face flushing. he picked up a bell from the stand near the entrance and rang it. the recitative stopped; there was a murmur of mingled voices, and footsteps. a girl parted the curtains which hung between the rooms and came toward him. her hair was black, fastened by long pins of bone; her face white and resentful; her brows were straight and dark, and the eyes beneath were shadowy. she was slim and moved swiftly, and her skin was white as milk. this, then, was the girl upon whom hito had cast his evil glance. nicanor kept his eyes on her as she came, and wondered if she was newly bought, that he had not seen her during the months he had been at the villa. "i bring the brazier nerissa commanded," said nicanor, and she nodded. "nerissa is busy with our lady. i will take it in." "she is not ill?" he asked anxiously. "nay, not ill," the girl answered. "it is but that she feels the cold. i will take the brazier." she looked at him with some surprise that he did not give it up. "it is heavy," he warned her. "stay one moment, i pray you. will you not tell me your name? i have been in this house these many months, and never before have i seen you." "i am called eldris," she answered. "and i have been here also, but--it is true you have not seen me, although at times i have seen you. i have been seen by none save--" "save one, perhaps," said nicanor, and looked into her eyes. "i bring you word from hito--if you are she he told me to seek out. he saith that he, hito, is willing to see you to-night; that he expects you, and that you will understand. he saith that he awaits you--you will know where; and if you do not come, he will find out why. also--" he stopped on the word. the girl had gone gray; and into her eyes there leaped a look of helpless terror, of dumb anguish and nameless fear. and at once, with the look, she became elusively familiar. a memory, half lost, beckoned to him, of a white and tortured face, of eyes which held the terror of a wounded animal at bay, of a long red welt across brown shoulders. his glance went to the girl's shoulders, white as milk, half hidden under her coarse white tunic. [illustration: "'you sent for me, lady varia?'"] "hito!" the girl exclaimed below her breath; and again--"hito!" she flung out her hands with a movement of bitter despair and hid her face in them. "what can i do? where can i go?" she cried hopelessly. "since the first day he saw me this hath hung over me--and what can i do? o my god! what can i do against him?" "you do not go willingly?" nicanor questioned, and took note of the exclamation she had used. "you will not force me to him!" she gasped in terror, misunderstanding, and shrank from him. "not i! i am no man's procurer!" nicanor said curtly. "i give his message; the rest lieth with you and him." "never with me!" the girl exclaimed. she broke into hard dry sobs that racked her. nicanor watched, quite at a loss what to say or do. "he hath--he hath threatened force and the rack if i refuse," she sobbed. "the rack is a bad thing to know!" said nicanor, thinking of what he had seen in the room at the end of the passage. he spoke with all sincerity, being no better than his time. "ay, but there is something worse!" eldris flashed back. "i would rather face my lord in the torture-chamber; i would rather be broken on the wheel and die the death--" she shuddered, and again hid her face. "and there is no way out of it but death. what can i do, a slave?" the old bitter cry, wrung from the lips of many that the word of the nations' law might be fulfilled--wrung from the lips of nicanor himself. he knew the full measure of its bitterness, and somewhere in him an answering chord stirred and woke to life. he put his hand on her shoulder. "see then, if that be thy feeling,--though them knowest not the rack!--i too am a slave, but it may be that i can help thee." the girl stilled her sobs to listen. "hito is a fat swine. it would give me great joy to foil him." "i have tried to move him," she said, with a weary hopelessness more suggestive than many words. "it is because i struggle--" she stopped, biting her lips, her eyes dark with misery. "it is not me he would have now, but his way," she said forlornly. "for me to take thy refusal would do no good," said nicanor, his voice reflective. "tell thy lady; surely she will give thee protection." "often i have tried to do that," eldris answered. "always nerissa or other women are there to know what i would have with her; and always they say it is not for me to talk with her unless she gives command--that i am to tell them and they will carry the word to her. and when i tell,--" she faltered, with drooping head,--"they laugh, and call me fool, and ask why i should hold myself too good to do as others have done, and say our lady is not to be troubled with a thing such as this. that is what they say, and they are worse than he. and i fear him! oh, i fear him!" she clenched her hands tightly across her breast and shivered with closed eyes. "by day i go in dread lest he give command to seize me; by night i start awake lest i see his face grinning in the dark, even though for weeks at a time he will give me peace and make no sign. when my service is done, i hide like a rat in its hole, wishing to be seen by none. but he never forgets, and he never forgives, and i have scorned him. oh, i would to god that i were dead!" "art thou christian?" nicanor asked curiously. "ay," she answered, without spirit. "once i was at a christian church," said nicanor. "art thou of the faith?" she asked, quickly and eagerly. "not i," said nicanor. "what good may it do a man? and if it doeth no good, any faith will do to swear by. it hath not done thee much good, this faith of thine, since it leaves thee in this pass." "i trust it," she said quietly. "nay," said nicanor, in all seriousness. "it is i whom thou must trust. it is not thy faith will help thee here, but i, and the wit i have and the strength i have, because i am the only one near thee. how then, if it be i, can it be thy faith?" "i trust it," she repeated vaguely, as though she did not quite understand his meaning. he laughed shortly. "i had rather trust myself. see now, if the door were opened, couldst thou escape from here?" "i have no money--nowhere to go," she answered. nicanor shook his head. "money i have not, but i could see that friends received thee." she shrugged her shoulders, a gesture half resignation, half despair. and with the movement, the elusive familiarity returned; the flickering memory leaped to life. black straight hair, framing a gray face and burning eyes; a girl, a lean wisp of a thing, with chained wrists and a ragged frock which only half concealed a long red welt on a brown shoulder--he had seen them all before. the memory grew and would not be denied; suddenly forced itself into words. "art thou she who was bought at thorney of a slave-driver by one valerius, and claimed sanctuary of a christian cross by the church of saint peter?" her glance at him was startled. "yea; but how dost thou know of it?" she asked in turn. "i saw thee sold," said nicanor, and looked at her with new eyes. "when valerius pursued thee to the foot of the cross, i ran also. it was i who went for the priest, and came back and found no one. often since, i have wondered what became of thee and the folk who had gathered." he laughed. "but it made a good tale. more than once i have used it, and fitted to it endings of mine own." "while i lay grasping the cross, a man in the crowd cried out: 'girl, the priest cometh! run thou quickly to him!' and i, being well-nigh dazed with fear, had no better sense than to spring up, crying, 'where?' and no priest was there at all; but the instant my hands were off the cross that man seized me and ran, and all the crowd ran after to see what might happen next, some saying it was not just, and others finding it rare good sport. at the river he thrust me into a boat and gave the man money to row quickly; and since their sport was over, the people went away. it did not take long." she looked at him with quickened interest, and in her face also there was new thought. "so--art thou, then, that teller of tales, whom men call nicanor of the silver tongue?" nicanor laughed again, but softly, all the hardness gone from his grim face, his eyes shining oddly. did they indeed call him that? "i am nicanor," he said. his quick ears caught a step approaching from the inner rooms. "some one comes!" he said warningly, and added, "it is heavy; let me take it to the door." he picked up the brazier and carried it to the door. eldris followed, her steps lagging. "i will wait near until thy duty here is ended," he said in a rapid undertone. "none shall touch thee this night, i promise thee. as for to-morrow--well, to-morrow is to-morrow, and there is small use in worrying to-day." she flashed a glance of gratitude at him and took the brazier. it was too heavy for her, but she staggered bravely with it across the threshold, and the curtains fell behind her. nicanor heard nerissa's sharp voice from within. "why so long, girl? bring it quickly--thy lady's feet are chilled." nicanor lingered a moment, his eyes on the hidden entrance, and turned and went out with his long and cat-like stride. in the courtyard one ran against him in the darkness and cursed him soundly. nicanor, recognizing the ring of hito's eloquence, halted and waited for what might come. hito, in his turn, recognized him, and changed his tone. "so, thou? in the dark i did not know thee. didst find the girl?" "ay, i found her," nicanor answered with indifference. "but she is on duty to-night with our lady, and knows not when she can get away." he gave a short laugh. "truly, hito--since this is not official!--i had thought thee with an eye for woman-flesh as keen as the best. but that!--at first i doubted mine own eyes, that thou hadst singled out such an one for thy favor, when there be others whose better no man could wish. what one can see in long sulky eyes, a gray face that never smiles, hair like a mare's tail, a body gaunt and spare as a growing boy's--i cannot say i admire thy taste. thou, who art so keen a judge of women's beauty, who can pick and choose from among the fairest--what hath bewitched thee, man?" "you do not know her!" hito said sulkily, forced into a defence of his choice. "a creature all fire and ice--well, i know she hath no beauty, but--i'd not have thee believe it is because i am no judge. what do i care for the girl? bah!" he snapped his fingers in contempt. "but she hath flouted me, defied me,--me, hito, whose word could send her stripped to the torment,--and by my father's head i'll break her for it! when i approached her with soft words, these many weeks ago, she laughed,--mind you that!--and it is dangerous to laugh at hito. but she will not laugh when i am through with her! also she said that she would prefer the rack. a pity that in this world people cannot always have what they prefer. more than ever i desire her; i would break her, see her cringe and follow like a beaten hound; and the more she fights me, the more surely i shall win, and the more my victory shall cost her. that is my way--the way of hito!" he licked his thick lips. "'and the lion said: "i find it rare good sport to hunt a mouse; it is most noble game!"'" nicanor quoted. his voice held a taunt. "no insolence, sirrah!" hito snarled, instantly suspicious of ridicule. "because i held speech with thee to-night, it does not follow that thou art privileged to criticize!" "if i am insolent, why choose me for your messenger?" nicanor asked boldly. hito slipped an arm about the slave's broad shoulders and patted him. "because thou art a man after mine own heart," he said smoothly. "because i love thee and thy bold eyes and thy dare-devil recklessness, and would make a friend of thee. why else? now, then, to-morrow thou shalt bring the girl to me. i am minded for an hour's sport with the tiger-cat. my fingers itch for that lean throat of hers. after, i will give her to thee if it please thee--and then we'll see what the rack will leave of her beauty." his oily chuckle was diabolic. "and our lady?" nicanor suggested. "what will she say when she knows how a handmaiden of hers hath been disposed of?" "how will she know," hito retorted, "when there be a dozen and odd to take her place? a slave more or less is a small matter in this house." his tone was significant. "so bring her to-morrow at the noon hour, my friend. i think thou canst find a way! till then, good-night. the gods have thee in their keeping!" "and thee!" nicanor responded with a grin. hito was absorbed into the darkness. nicanor spat upon the ground where he had stood. "rather the gods smite thee with death and ruin!" he muttered. "now to wait for thy lady. how well he loves her, in truth!" he took to pacing up and down the gallery before the storerooms, for the night air was biting cold, noiseless, a blot of shadow in the darkness. his thoughts wandered from the black-haired slave girl to her whom they both served; to marius; to his own plight. how long would it be before it pleased marius to speak and snap the jaws of the trap upon him? why did he hold his hand? or had he perhaps already spoken? he knew that if he were to escape at all, the sooner he made the attempt, the better. his fingers went uncertainly to the collar at his throat. he could bribe no one to cut it for him; to do it himself would be more than difficult, even if he could steal the tools. he paused before a door that led into deeper blackness. at the far end of that passage was another door through which he must enter, where many another had entered before him, and where he had seen too much of what went on within to expect less for himself than had fallen to the lot of these. he shrugged his shoulders. "even a trapped rat may fight," he muttered, and turned to continue his pacing. then it was that he saw a light coming down the gallery, dancing upon the wall; and a group of three approaching, revealed by a torch in the hands of one. wary as a buck which scents danger on every breeze, he drew back into the space between two pillars to wait and watch. and he saw that of the three, the middle one was marcus, held fast and struggling, and whimpering like a dog dragged to a beating. in the first moment, nicanor did not understand. then it grew upon him that this had something to do with him, and it might be well to find out what. the three passed him and entered at that door before which nicanor had paused. "so--they take him to the torture!" nicanor muttered. "i think that i shall see the end of this." lithe and noiseless as a cat he went after the three down the passage, keeping well out of range of the flaring torch. vi but when he reached the door at the end of the passage, it was closed, and he could only stand outside and listen. a lamp of pottery, burning wanly on a stone shelf jutting from the wall, showed the door, low, metal-bound, of tough black oak. he could see nothing, but his ears caught fragments of sound at intervals from within; a clank of chains, a scraping as of a heavy object dragged across the floor. he leaned against the wall of the passage, the lamplight on his face, his figure tense with expectation, his hands quite unconsciously hard clenched. without warning there rose from inside a frantic gibbering, meaningless, bestial, horribly shrill. nicanor smiled with narrowed eyes. "well for me i drew thy sting, old man!" he muttered. the gibbering broke suddenly into a scream that rang for an instant and stopped short, leaving blank silence. nicanor's face sharpened and grew pinched with eagerness; under scowling brows his eyes took on a strange glitter like the eyes of an animal in the dark. he crouched closer to the door, his body rigid with the strain of listening. once more the cry of pain rose, this time sustained and savage with despair; it choked and gurgled horribly into silence; and rose again, more agonized, more bitter. "perhaps he wishes now he had not entered that garden!" said nicanor, and laughed low in triumph. every nerve was thrilling to the savage lust of blood, half-lost instinct of old days when men lived and died by blood, when the battle was to the strongest, and life was a victim's forfeit. he longed to look through the iron-bound door, to see for himself marcus paying the price for his temerity. strangely, he could not bring himself to believe that marcus was unable to betray him; it seemed to him as though the man's fearful straining after speech must have result of some sort. even though he knew this idea to be absurd, he found himself on edge with suspense. the cries became long-drawn, agonized, unceasing. there is but one sound in the world as bad as the sound of a man's screaming, and that other is the scream of a wounded horse. nicanor set his teeth. "now they are twisting the cord about his head.... and yet, though they kill him, the poor fool cannot speak. i have well taken care of that, it appears.... they have him on the stone table, and his hands are bound. i can see it--oh, ay, i can see it well enough. i can see that he writhes in torment; and his face--what would his face be? purple, perhaps; and the cord about his temples hath bitten through the flesh. there is blood upon his face, and it takes four men to hold him. body of me! who would have thought the old man to have such lungs!" a smothered exclamation from the semi-darkness beside him sent his hand leaping to the dagger concealed in his tunic. in the same instant he saw that it was eldris. "who is it?" she whispered fearfully. "oh, why do they not kill him and have it over! i heard as i was passing--i had to come!" she clasped her hands over her ears and shuddered. nicanor folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall, looking down at her. when she lowered her hands, he said: "it may be that our lord hath not given command that he die." "who is it?" she repeated. "marcus," he answered, and saw her draw breath with a quick sob. "ah, poor old man! what hath he done to deserve this?" "rather it is because he will not--because he cannot do what they would have him," said nicanor. his words were reckless, still more his tone; it was even as though he cared not enough about the matter to hide his knowledge from her. "do you know what it is? oh, if they would but kill him in very pity!" she wrung her hands. "ay, i know," said nicanor. "was it his fault?" she asked eagerly. he hesitated, his bold eyes on her face. "no," he said. "it was not his fault. he was in the right." she turned on him in horror. "you know him innocent, and yet you stand here idle while he is done to death!" she cried. "oh, go--go quickly and tell them he is not to blame! make them set him free!" she caught his arm and he felt her fingers shake. "are you a coward, that you will listen to his cries when a word of yours could release him? i had not thought it of you--oh, i had not thought it of you!" "suppose a word of mine should set me in his place?" said nicanor harshly. "maybe i am coward; but calling me one will not make me one. suppose i were in his place; suppose that in my fall i carried others with me,--others who at all costs must be shielded,--is it not better that one should suffer than that our world should crash about our ears? he is old and worthless--" "and you are young and worthy to have his blood spilled for you!" she taunted in a shaking voice. "i do not understand, it may be, but it seems that this frail old man must suffer that you, so brave, so powerful, whose life is of so great worth, may go unharmed. why should you be set in his place? is the fault yours? if it be, and you seek shelter behind his helplessness, you are lower than the cringing curs. are you afraid, o great and worthy one, to stand forth and confess your wrong as any man would do?" she stopped breathless. he looked at her with eyes hot and sullen. "now i should like to wring your neck for that!" he said. at the swift ruthless savagery in his tone the girl shrank back. nicanor saw and laughed. "since i may not, i'll take payment otherhow. as for the old man, let him squeal as best likes him. if they break him on the wheel, i shall go and tell them how to do it; if they boil him in oil, i shall go and stir the gravy. your opinion of the cringing cur should not go unjustified." the screaming died suddenly into moaning. eldris covered her face with her hands. "oh, but that is worse, if worse can be! why does he not tell them he knows nothing, has done nothing? surely they would let him go! is he trying, perhaps, to shield you?" her voice, under all its fear and pity, was mocking. "not he! he would be glad to see me in his place," nicanor retorted. he laughed a little. "strange, is it not, that he doth not tell?--since thumb-screws and argolins soon find a man's limit." she faced him, gathering all her courage. "now do i believe you know more of this than you will say!" she cried. "perhaps!" he said boldly. "it is not well to tell all one knows." "not even to save a fellow-creature's life! oh, what are you--brute or man? man with the speech of angels--brute with the heart of hell!" "perhaps!" said nicanor again. "why should i tell you what i am?" "do you know, yourself?" she questioned. his eyes hardened. "who can know himself?" he parried, with a shrug of his heavy shoulders. "this much i know--that i am brute and man, slave and king. at times i am lower than man, who can be lower than any crawling beast; at times i am more than god, with all the world beneath me. why? how should i tell?" "you, who sing of birds and butterflies, of flowers in summer, of sunshine and sweet love and the brightness of life!" she said bitterly and with reproach. "indeed, you are two men, and i know not either. one, all men must hate and fear; the other--ah, the other is of the silver tongue. why should this be? i can tell no more than you--i can but pray that that black beast may be tamed and stilled." "i say i do not know!" nicanor said sullenly. "and speak we of something else. i am _one_ man, nicanor, slave and teller of tales. that is all with which you have concern. and i do not need praying over." "have you no gods?" she asked him, shocked. he looked rather blank at her attack. "why, no," he said, and his voice held a faint tinge of surprise. "there are no gods in the bogs and fens and on the hills where i tended sheep. what gods with any sense would live in such parts as these? and i knew no need of them. why should i have learned? when my mother would tell me of one god whom she worshipped, i would go and play. is this your god?" "ay," she answered, without hesitation. "i think your mother, too, was christian." "maybe," nicanor answered with indifference. "but he is not the god of the mighty--of none but slaves and bondsmen and the humble, from all that hath been told to me." "of those who are oppressed," she said softly. "wilt let me tell thee of him? of how he was born in a stable, with wise men journeying from the east, bearing gifts of homage?" nicanor looked at her with a gleam of quickening interest. "why, that is a tale," he said. "now i have never heard of this before. why was he born in a stable, and what gifts did those wise men bring?" within the room the sounds had died, leaving a heavy silence, and neither noticed. for of old death young life is ever heedless; ever the brazen fanfare of life's trumpets drowns the thin reed-plaint of death. in the passage their voices whispered guiltily. "because his mother went to a place which was called bethlehem, with joseph her husband, to pay the taxes, and there was no room at the inn," said eldris, explaining. "and the angel of the lord had told joseph that these things should be, and that he need not put away mary as he was minded to do." she knew the facts of the story she would tell him; give it form and coherence she could not. "who was mary?" "the wife of joseph." "why put her away?" "because the child was to be born." nicanor drew his heavy eyebrows to a scowl of intense perplexity. "now why should he put her away for doing what all good wives should do?" "because her child was the son of god, and at first joseph did not--" "and not the son of joseph!" cut in nicanor. his voice became all at once enlightened. "now by my head, this is a quaint tale thou tellest! so the god you christians worship was a--" "oh!" cried eldris; and the shock in her voice cut his words short. "never say it! you do not understand! it was a miracle!" "a miracle--well, that is different," said nicanor. "i have told tales of miracles, for such things may be. and so--?" "for it had been foretold that one should be born, of a pure virgin, who should redeem the world and take upon himself the sins and sorrows of all men. so an angel told mary that she was blessed among women--but i think that she was frightened." nicanor nodded, as one in entire understanding. in place of the hard glitter of his eyes had come a certain luminosity as though from inner fires, an odd deep shining; his face was keen with a lively interest. "and so--what happened then?" he questioned her, even as men, so many times before, had questioned him. "yet she was glad, for that she was chosen to bring peace into the world," recounted eldris. "so they went into bethlehem, and all the inns were full. but mary could go no farther, and they went into a stable, where oxen and cattle were stalled. and there the child was born; and men say that a great star in the sky guided shepherds who fed their flocks upon the moors to that stable where he lay. and it is told that three kings came out of the east, laden with perfumes and gifts for him who was to be the saviour of the world." "kings," nicanor repeated, musing. "then would they be clothed bravely, with jewels and fine linen, and this would make good contrast with the stable. go on. what did they when they came into the stable?" "they marvelled greatly that he whom they had journeyed to seek should be but a new-born babe, and they bowed down and worshipped." "paid homage," said nicanor, following out his own train of thought. "ay, it is a good tale, but as i have heard it, it lacketh something--what? i must think of that. it hath no point, no pivot on which to hang the whole. for, look you, a tale is built as any other thing is built; it must have its parts balanced; it must have cause, and meaning, and effect. this hath a beginning, but it leads nowhere, without end." "but it hath no end," said eldris, not understanding. "and it can have no end until the end of time. for it was but the beginning; and the little jesus that lay in the manger is he who liveth and reigneth above all gods--" "now i care not for the little jesus!" said nicanor, gruff with impatience. "it is the tale i would get at--the tale! well, it will come, as always it hath come before. on a night i will wake to find it full-grown in my head and clamoring at my tongue. now we will go, or that fat lover of thine will be upon us." brought back to the present and its portents, eldris bent her head, listening. "why, the cries have ceased," she said. "ay, this long time past," said nicanor carelessly. "how much, think you, human flesh and blood can stand?" "is he dead?" she asked, startled. "i hope so!" said nicanor. "nay then, i do not care, which is nearer truth. if i do not fear a fangless serpent in the grass, why should i fear him?" there was sudden movement behind the door; before either could think of flight it opened, showing the room within. a still figure on the raised slab of stone, for centre of the picture, with two half-stripped africans beside it; three figures coming doorward: and these were eudemius, and marius, and the physician claudius. eudemius, his face pinched and gray, leaned tottering with weakness on the arms of the other two; behind them walked a slave with a great peacock fan, and another slave was waiting at the door. at once nicanor clapped his hardened hand over the thin flame of the lamp on the shelf, and the passage where they stood was plunged in darkness. before the three lords had reached the threshold, he had drawn the girl out of sight behind one of the squat pillars of the passage. perhaps no harm would come to them, even were they discovered; but he had reasons for wishing to take no chances. the three passed by unheeding, eudemius stumbling and cursing because the passage was dark. when they had gone, nicanor went into the room, where the slaves were busy. eldris stood hesitating on the threshold, afraid to enter, unwilling to go. "he is dead, is he?" nicanor asked, and went and stood over the broken body on the stone slab. one of the africans grinned, showing strong white teeth beneath his yellow turban. "our lord was a devil to-night," he said. "the madness was on him, and he would have blood. but look you; here is a strange thing." with ungentle hands he forced open the dead jaws, not yet stiffened in the rigor of death. "now sure this be a miracle, for mine own ears heard him speak but yesterday." "so?" said nicanor, with lifted brows. "now i should have said a week ago, or maybe two. ay, if you heard him speak yesterday, it was sure a miracle. likely he hath done something displeasing to his gods." the slaves carried the limp body away, and others came and resanded the floors. the chamber was circular, of rough blocks of stone, with two doors. opposite the one where eldris stood was a raised dais where were two chairs and a flaring cresset on a tall standard. around the walls hung instruments of war, of torture, and of the chase; chains with heavy balls of iron attached; a stand of spears, and another of great bronze swords, leaf-shaped and burnished. a collection of daggers hung upon the walls, with the terrible short knives worn by the saxons, each with the two nicks in the blade which would leave a ragged and dreadful wound. here also were great six-foot bows, such as the numidian archers used; and suits of armor in corium and in bronze, with shields and breastplates and crested helmets of brass and iron. here was a narrow bed, of wood and iron, with bolts and screws for tearing muscle from muscle and joint from joint. nicanor, with grim humor, had called this the bridal bed, and the name would stick to it forever. and here, higher than a man's height above the floor, was a leaden tank with a water-cock, from which would fall water, drop by drop, hour by hour, into a leaden basin with a drain-pipe sunk into the floor. once nicanor had seen a man sit screaming there for untold hours, chained to a stone bench, with water dripping, drop by drop, upon his shaven skull. he had used this upon a day, in a tale he had told in the wine-shop of nicodemus; and men had shuddered and drawn back from him as from one possessed of unholy powers. and nicanor, looking at this now, and with that terrible gift of his seeing himself chained and screaming in that other's place, set his teeth and muttered: "i shall leave this house this night." but he did not, for he was but mortal, and subject, like other mortals, to the decree of the goddess fate. for as the slaves went out of the other door with their buckets of sand, nicanor heard a cry from where the girl stood in the entrance to the passage; a cry sharp and quick, as he had heard a rabbit squeal in the trap. he wheeled and saw her shrinking inside the doorway, her hands before her face, and over her hito standing, his little pig's eyes alight. now the girl was nothing to nicanor; he could have cursed her roundly for getting in his way and perplexing him with her troubles when he had need of all his wit to save himself. he would have vented his displeasure upon her as readily as upon hito. he was not chivalrous; if she had pleased his fancy he would quite surely have pursued her as relentlessly as the steward. but he had said, "none shall touch thee this night"; and he would maintain his word not because he wanted to, but because he must. "keep your hands off her!" he said savagely, as hito stooped. his hands were clenched, his black brows lowering, his mood, plainly, was not to be trifled with. that he should pay for his temerity he knew as well as hito; but since he was lost in any case, he considered that a little more or less would make small difference. "what have you to say about it?" hito snarled. "did i not send you for the girl? quartus! sporus! come back, ye knaves, and bind me this fellow!" but nicanor, with a bound like a tiger cat's, flung himself on the door, slammed it shut, and locked it. and he had need of all his quickness, for he was playing fast and loose with death. hito yelled and started for the second door through which he had come and near which the girl was crouching. but again nicanor was too quick. he got between hito and the door and stood ready to shut it,--erect, defiant, every muscle tense to spring. he would die, that was certain, but he would give somebody trouble first. now hito was fat and scant of breath, and hito was soft with good living and much ease; and when he was cornered, he turned not rat, but rabbit. moreover, he had seen this lean devil of a slave in action before and he remembered it. so he stopped and merely yelled again for quartus and sporus. without taking his eyes off the overseer, nicanor put out his hand and pulled the girl to him. "if you swoon, i shall kill you!" he muttered, stooping until he could whisper in her ear. "go to thorney in the fords, and find there nicodemus the one-eyed, who keeps a wine-shop. tell him i sent you. i cannot hold our friend here for long, but it is all that i can do. you know what it will mean to be caught and brought back." he raised his voice somewhat, so that hito should hear apparently without his meaning it. "go to your room and lock yourself in. we shall see what our lord has to say to such doings!" he held the door ajar, and pushed the girl through, and closed it, but in the lock there was no key. hito sneered. "clever lad! 'go to your room and lock yourself in!' hast thought what will happen when she must come out? 'see what our lord has to say to such doings!' hast thought that what he will say will be through me? what else didst tell the girl? answer, son of an ill-famed mother, or the rack shall question for me!" nicanor said nothing. his ears strained for approaching footsteps, but the walls were thick, and many had cried for help before and none had heard them. he had no plan; he had given the girl what chance he could, and it was all that he could do. if she could not help herself--well, there would be one more to cross the threshold of fate. his only thought was to give her what time he could. let her once get away from the house, and over the frozen ground it would be hard to find her trail until morning. hito took it in his head to make a dash. he started for the door, shouting at the top of his lungs for help. nicanor barred his passage, silent and inexorable. he did not raise hand against hito, but stood like a rock against the fat one's futile pummellings. for to strike a superior meant, for a slave, instant and lawful death. hito would none the less maintain that he had been struck, but nicanor could not help that. so that hito battered until his fists were sore; and nicanor stood and took it silently, with set jaws and eyes gleaming like a wolf's in his dark face. he could not hope to keep hito there much longer. the latter, wearied at length and puffing, sat on the edge of that grim bridal bed and cursed nicanor by all the evil gods. after this, when his invention gave out, he fell silent and sat and stared at the tall figure that guarded the door, with his little eyes half closed. but quite suddenly those eyes flew wide with astonishment. for the figure against the door had begun to sway from side to side, gently and rhythmically, with a low mutter of incoherent words. hito looked again, somewhat startled. the slave's face was set and blank; his eyes stared straight ahead and were dull and without lustre. "the gods save us!" hito muttered, watching uneasily. "hath the man a fit?" "see them coming!" said nicanor. his finger pointed here and there, and in spite of himself, hito's eyes followed it. "bright maidens, flower-crowned, robed in gauze. ah, flee not, sweet ones!" he stretched his hands imploringly. "whence come ye, from the mist? see the mist, how it rises, full of dreams which are to come to men. are ye dreams, ye radiant ones? no, for ye do not vanish. ha! i have thee, lovely nymph! and thou shalt find my arms as strong to hold as the gods' from whom thou camest. unveil thyself, sweet, and let me see thy face. it should be fair, with so fair a form. so--thou thinkest to escape and fly from me?" he sprang forward, hands outstretched, almost upon hito, who turned with a yelp of alarm, and dodged. nicanor started back as one in sudden surprise. "ha, julia, sweet friend!" he cried. "who sent thee here to me, with thy scarf of gold and pearl, thy raven locks and thy dewy lips, with bells upon thine ankles, and a tambour in thy hand? see, our lord cometh! let us dance for him that perhaps we may find favor in his sight." standing in front of hito he began to dance, his hands hanging limp at his sides, his face utterly without expression. hito gasped. "what hath come to thee?" he quavered. "fool--come to thy senses before thou art flogged back to them." "dance with me, sweet maiden!" said nicanor; and suddenly caught hito's fat and helpless hands in his lean brown ones and danced down the length of the room with him. perforce, since he could not struggle free, hito ran alongside, dragging back unwillingly, his face gray with fright. at the end of the room nicanor turned and danced back again, dragging his captive. "dance, fair julia, dance!" he cried; and in his gyrations brought without warning his nail-spiked sandal down on hito's foot. hito bellowed and danced upon one foot with pain, and once dancing, found that he could not stop. "let me go!" he panted, furious. "slave--thou madman--let me go, i say! i do not wish to dance--i will not dance!" "not when our lord commands it?" cried nicanor, breathing hard himself. "why, then, i do not wish to dance either. but since he saith 'dance,' dance i must, and so must thou, sweet girl!" "i am no girl!" shrieked hito, haled off down the room again. "i am hito, and i command that you stop!" "now why give me lies like that?" said nicanor. "have i not eyes which have long hungered for thy beauty? do i not know thee, julia the dancing girl?" "thou art mad in very truth! good nicanor--sweet nicanor--let me go, and i'll swear to keep between us this tale of thy doings!" nicanor answered nothing. always his face was blank, but his grip on hito's wrists was iron. up and down the room he went, leaping, dancing; and up and down went hito after him, struggling, sobbing for breath, his unwieldy bulk trembling with fright and weariness. when his steps slackened, through sheer inability to keep up, nicanor, with a bound forward, dragged him after, so that, to save himself from falling on his face, he bounded also, on his fat legs, with explosive grunts of breathlessness. without warning nicanor increased his speed and danced faster. he also was panting hard, the strain of towing two hundred odd pounds of unwilling flesh being great. his arms and shoulders shone with sweat; on his forehead his hair was plastered and damp. "julia, julia," he cried, "i pray you stop! i can dance no more. thou art trained to this work, but i--i faint with weariness. though our lord flay me, i can dance no more!"--and danced the faster. "stop! i stop!" gasped hito, purple in the face. "_deae matres!_ am i not trying to stop? stop thyself, or i die! i am exhausted--i have no breath--have a little pity--oh, nay, nay, i did not mean it! it is as thou sayest, of course! i--was wrong--to thwart thee! i will do whatever thou sayest, if thou wilt let me go! i--i do not think our lord--likes to see--such rapid motion. it maketh his head to swim. i, julia, pray thee, not--quite--so fast!" he lurched and nearly fell, and nicanor jerked him up again. there was the noise of a door being opened. nicanor knew it must be the door leading to the passage, since the other was locked. he dropped hito, who crumpled into an abject heap upon the floor, past speech or motion, and went on dancing by himself. from the tail of his eye he saw wardo the saxon and quartus enter and stand gaping, dumb with amazement. hito shook his fist at them from the floor and stuttered. when breath enough had entered into him, he screamed at them. "bind me this madman! he hath a devil in him. hold him, i say, until i can speak!" "why, he's mad!" said wardo, staring in awe at nicanor, who, expressionless, danced invincibly. "thou sayest!" quartus agreed, and stared also. "what hath seized him? here, lad, what means all this? stop thy prancing and say what thou hast done to our lord hito, here." but nicanor answered nothing, and danced. "chain him!" wheezed hito. "stop him, or i shall go mad, also, with looking at him! i'll have him strung by the thumbs for this!" and so it had been done, instantly, madness or no madness, since hito's word was law, and hito was very wrathful, but that interruption came from a quarter least expected. a tall figure blocked the open doorway, and a deep voice said: "what is the meaning of all this?" every slave knew it for the voice of their lord's guest, and every slave wheeled and crossed his arms before his face, and wondered what their lord's guest should be doing there,--every slave except nicanor, who still danced doggedly. it would have needed a quick eye to see that his step had faltered, if never so slightly. "this fellow hath a devil, lord!" said hito, with an effort at coherency. "me he did force to dance until i am no better than dead. he called me julia and made me to dance with him so that my life fainted in me. he is mad--most mad--and i will have him strung--" marius looked at nicanor, and in his face was recognition and a merciless triumph. he broke hito's speech midway. "who is this fellow?" "lord, he is called nicanor," said hito. "and he is mad--" again marius's face changed, back to its former haughty calm, in which was mingled a certain satisfaction. "so--nicanor, is it? i have seen men seized this way before." he spoke to hito, but his eyes were on nicanor. "most commonly it is the effect of over-severe discipline, but it may be that there are other causes. then if he is mad, friend hito, it might be better not to slay him lest the gods take vengeance for him upon you. were it not best to take him to the dungeons? so, you may see how long this madness of his will last; and when it is past will be the time to punish." his tone assumed sudden authority. "look to it that you harm him in no manner, but hold him fast where you may deliver him at your lord's word. it will be your life for his life--remember that." he gathered his cloak about him and strode away, and the three looked after him with wonder in their faces. hito was first to voice it. "our lives for his life, is it?" he grunted. "so, master slave, you would be important, it seems. what have you done now, that our lord's favorite should give such orders for you? you'll not cheat me for long--promise you that! a little while and he'll forget you; so my turn will come. quartus, put the chains upon him and take him to the cells." "please you, we are told to harm him in no manner," wardo ventured. nicanor had done many a good turn to the fair-haired saxon, as one comrade to another, and wardo was not one to forget it. "were he in chains, he would soon fret himself into worse raving, and likely do himself harm." "bring him without, then!" said hito. the two seized nicanor, and wardo winked at him behind hito's back, as the latter got painfully to his feet. nicanor submitted, sullenly. he, who had trusted to no man save himself, was forced to pin what faith he might to the hint of succor that lay in wardo's wink. and this was but a frail straw to trust. they took him along a side passage behind the storerooms, down damp and slippery steps to the depths of the cellars. here were the dungeons, half of masonry, half of living rock, whose walls glistened with slime where the torchlight fell upon them. they thrust him into the smallest of the cells, and left him. the light of their torch was shut out with the slamming of the iron door; and darkness, dense and tangible, fell upon him in a reeking pall. nicanor spoke aloud, with a laugh that jarred on the heavy stillness. "when friend hito gains wind enough after his gambollings to remember that lean lady of his, she should be far enough away to snap her fingers at him. so, the rat is trapped at last. now to see whether he can fight or no; for if he cannot, he'll have no chance to try again." then silence fell; and other rats, boldened by the darkness, began to come forth to peer at the intruder in their midst. ----------------------------------------------------------------------the lord's daughter and the one who went in chains book iv ----------------------------------------------------------------------book iv the lord's daughter and the one who went in chains i marius rejoined eudemius in his library. "i have given command to have the slave nicanor sent to the cells," he said. "it was he, as i have just found, of whom the lady varia spoke in the early evening. when we left the torture chamber, it is now two hours ago, i saw him in the passage outside, with another, a woman, i think. he put out the lamp in the passage, but i saw him first. it is as well to catch our bird before he flies, as without doubt he will now try to do, finding himself discovered, and keep him safely nested until we want him. he is a surly brute, but i know a way to get what we want out of him." "and that is?" said eudemius. "salt food and no water," said marius curtly. "i have tried it before, in camp. we will let him recover from this so-called madness, first. but you said you would speak with me. i am at your command." eudemius shook his head. "not to-night," he said. "i am over tired, and it grows late. to-morrow, perhaps. did the africans tell me that the old man marcus is dead?" "they did," marius answered, somewhat surprised at the question. "undoubtedly he was mad, for never did i see such actions in a sane man." "and you believe that the gods will take vengeance on me for having brought to pass the death of such a haunted one?" eudemius asked unexpectedly. marius shrugged. "i did not say that," he answered. "maybe they will, maybe not. if you believe that they will, it is probable that they will do so." eudemius laughed. as quickly he became grave once more. "i had not meant to kill him! i was fond of him--i was even going to give him gold and have put upon him the pileus of a freedman, for he hath served me well. he had belonged to constantia, my wife. perhaps it was i who was mad to-night. sometimes i have thought--i must ask claudius if there is prospect of that--" he broke off. "pardon! i forgot, and thought aloud. to-morrow i shall be myself, but to-night i am shaken. if you will excuse me, i shall leave you. the house is at your service, if you do not choose to retire yet. summon mycon--he shall fill marcus's place--and give what commands you will." "i think that i shall follow your example," marius said, and stifled a yawn, "if you will tell me how to reach my rooms from here through these labyrinthine passages of yours. this part of the house i do not know well." eudemius looked at him in silence a moment, so that marius thought he had not heard his question. he was about to repeat it, when eudemius said: "from this door go to your left, until you come to the gallery which runs along the northern, not the southern, end of the large court. go down this to your right, and you will reach your own apartments. vale!" marius took his leave, wishing his host good rest. he strolled through halls on which looked numberless rooms, furnished richly, warm and silent, waiting for the guests who never came. not a servant was in sight; the silence of midnight wrapped the place in slumber. lamps, swinging from tall standards or from the ceilings, shed a mellow light around; his feet pressed rich woven rugs which hid the mosaic pavements beneath. around him was a golden perfumed stillness. he went more slowly, steeping his senses in the aroma of luxury. "how a man might welcome his friends to such a house as this!" he muttered. "i can see them here around me--fabian, julius, volux, all the rest. ye gods, how the walls would echo! now it all lies fallow, its wealth unknown, its treasures unseen. it should be used--ay, used to the very top notch of its value. where is the use of paintings, marbles, rugs, halls, gardens, wealth such as this, with none to enjoy them all, save a dying man and a fair-faced fool?" his thin lips tightened. the seed eudemius had planted was springing to lusty growth. "and they are mine, all mine, for the taking. by the soul of my mother, i will take them! i shall give feasts here such as lucullus might have envied; i can win what legion and what station i will; whatever fields rome hath left unconquered, i shall conquer for her. from the field i can reach the forum, with a name which without wealth i could never gain. the times are changing; it is time that men changed with them." the words died upon his lips. he had reached a glass door, leading into the small room formed by the angle of the north and east galleries which flanked the court. this room, screened like the gallery, by glass walls from the outer air, was filled with plants, answering in some sort to a conservatory. such rooms, used for different purposes and varied as to furnishing, were at all the angles of the galleries. marius, looking through the half-open door, thought that the place seemed unfamiliar, and began to fear he had taken the wrong way. yet he had followed closely the directions of eudemius. he was about to turn back when his eye fell on some one asleep close by the window which overlooked the court. "my lady herself, in very fact. this will be the second time i have waked her. without doubt, fate hath willed it so. what may she be doing here at this hour, without her women? watched to see some one enter the court, perhaps, and dropped asleep. to see whom? did she know, by chance, that i must pass this way from her father's rooms?" he opened the door softly and entered. but the slight noise aroused varia. she sat up, rubbing her eyes. "is it not late for such solitary communing, sweet friend?" marius asked, approaching. he saw that she was in a plain robe of sheerest white, ungirdled; that her hair fell loose, undecked with jewels, that her feet were bare. "perhaps you wait for some one?" she sat on the edge of the couch, her hands clasped in her lap, betraying no smallest consciousness of the unconventionality of her appearance. her white feet against the deep crimson of the rug held his eyes. "oh, no!" she said sweetly. "besides, if i did, should i tell you?" he found himself again in the attitude of treating her as a child; felt again his baffled perplexity at her glance, veiled and sidelong, which was not a child's glance. he bent toward her. the time had come to crown his schemes of high ambition, and the gods had thrown opportunity in his way. "was it for me you waited?" he asked boldly. he was prepared for indignation, repulsion, anything except what followed. she dropped her eyes, leaning a trifle away from him. "and--if it were?" she murmured. he stared an instant, and seized his chance. "i should thank the gods and you, sweet one, and do my best to show appreciation," he said; and sat down on the couch beside her. "but it was not!" she cried hastily, and moved farther away. in spite of himself marius's lips twitched to a smile. as she retreated, he advanced. "no? but it was i who came!" he said, his keen eyes on her. but her look did not falter. "you waited because the gods willed that i should come to you," he said, speaking rapidly, since she showed signs of nervousness. "and i have come, to plead my love, and to ask yours in return. once before were we interrupted when i tried to speak; now the chance is mine at last. you shall anoint my door with wolf's fat and rule at my hearth as wife. your father wishes it--he would be glad to see our love blossom into flower. say, wilt thou love me, sweet?" but varia sprang to her feet, clasping her hands over her ears. "love--love!" she cried fretfully. "nay, i have had enough of love!" marius laughed aloud. "so, thou strange beauty? maybe, but i have not. and i think there is still something left for thee to learn. dost remember a game i was to teach thee once--a game which two can play?" she interrupted him, standing poised as though for flight, her head on one side, a smile touching her crimson lips, her veiled eyes glancing sidewise into his. "nay--i remember?" she said with a rippling laugh. "why now, how should i remember, my lord? am i not a fool?" his glance was somewhat taken aback. "fool or not, i love thee, pretty witch, and thou shalt be my wife." she shook her head, and the laughter died from her face, leaving it startled. "thy wife? wife to thee? oh, no! i cannot be that!" "oh, yes! thou canst and must and shalt be that! i'll not let thee go so lightly!" he advanced upon her, but she stretched out a white naked arm to full length, a finger pointing at him, and he stopped. just why, he did not pause to think. "nay, my lord!" she said, and her voice took on the haunting tones which had so perplexed her father. "that i am not as other girls i know right well. why, then, should my lord desire me for wife? thou dost not love me. were i thy wife, i must love thee, and i do not wish to love thee. i could say,--what are the words?--always and ever they are ringing in my heart,--'where thou art, caius, there am i, caia,' with my lips as well as with my heart, but not to thee--oh, not to thee!" she flung out her arms with a gesture of sudden wild abandonment, and clasped them over her eyes. her voice broke in a storm of tears. "now--woe is me!--all i can say is 'where art thou, caius?' i have waited so long--so long!" "but he is here at last," said marius, and took her hand. she wept softly, with hanging head, making no effort to get away. "i will pray my lord father that he force me not to become wife to thee!" "thy lord father gives command that thou shalt become wife to marius since he desires thee, and to no other man!" said eudemius's voice behind them. marius wheeled, as varia gave a startled cry and wrenched her hand free. eudemius came into the room, his face changed as no living soul had seen it changed until then. "i feared that thou hadst not taken the right way back," he said to marius, and there was a shade of significance in his tone. "therefore--i came to see." "father, say i need not be wife to him!" cried varia, bold in her terror. "why not?" eudemius asked harshly. "what reason lies behind thy refusal?" "i do not know!" she stammered. "i know only that i would not wed with him. i love him not--" "love! what hath love to do with it? and what know you of love, little fool?" said eudemius, with impatience. varia started forward, catching desperately at the straw. "thou hast said it!" she cried stormily. "i am fool--fool--fool--fit wife for no man! who wants to wed a fool?" "be silent! i'll teach thee--" eudemius exclaimed, but marius interposed. "pray thee--father--leave the taming of this wild bird to me!" he said, and emphasized the word, and watched. he had judged subtly. eudemius turned to him, his hands out, his stern face broken up and working. he patted marius's shoulders with shaking hands, and leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. "my son--oh, my son, my son!" he cried. but varia, unnoticed of either, cast herself upon the couch and wept, her face hidden in its silken cushions. livinius came from his sickroom and joined them in a week, and was told the news. from his face it was apparent that he was pleased, and that in spite of all his words, the match would be very well to his liking. but when he got marius alone, which was difficult, since eudemius would scarce let his prospective son-in-law out of his sight, he spoke to him with all seriousness. "it will be a great thing for thee, my son; thou canst carve out for thyself what career thou wilt. i am pleased; thou art pleased; eudemius--why, for eudemius, he is a changed man utterly." "truly, he is," marius agreed. "who could dream that behind that iron mask of his there dwelt such affection, such store of human kindness?" "all for thee, lad," said livinius. his tone, with all its pride, held a tinge of sadness. "it brings the water to my eyes to watch the new nature struggling in him with the old. he hath pinned all his faith and hope to thee. be thou worthy of the trust." "ay, so i will," said marius readily. he shook himself with a quick breath. "and the task will be no easy one, father mine. i do not feel myself at all a cuckoo stealing into a nest ready feathered. what i get i shall pay for, in degree, if not in kind. there will be three men's work in handling this estate." "and the one who is most nearly touched in this?" said livinius. "she whose poor little hands are weighted with the gold of which she knows nothing, whose child's head is filled with dreams in which thou hast no part?" "oh, varia?" said his son. "i suppose it is no worse for her than for other women. she shall have all that i can give to content her. father, it is a strange thing about that child. when i am away from her, i will own that her memory doth not linger over long with me. but when i am with her, she bewitches me. i know not what else to call it. always i am trying to probe her; always i find myself foiled and baffled when i think that i have found the clew to her mystery. if ever she should waken from this state of hers.... at present she is angry, and i have not seen her for two days. that may be, but she forgets that soon it will not be for her to say whether i shall see her or whether not." his lips tightened; in his dark eyes a yellow spark flashed and died. livinius glanced at him, smiled, and held his peace. it was even as livinius had said. eudemius was, if not a changed man, at least a changing one. sombre his face would always be; fate had bitten too deep for the scars ever to be smoothed away. but with the haunting fear removed that his name and fortune should fall into unworthy hands, he seemed to have shaken off ten years of nightmare trouble. his voice began to lose its bitter harshness; for the first time his slaves no longer trembled at his glance. his attitude toward marius was curious--also, in view of his nature, touching. on marius he lavished all the pride and tenderness of an adoring father to his son, and of both there was more than anyone had guessed. he worshipped marius openly, gloried in him exultingly, and was fiercely and suppressedly jealous of livinius's prior right. he hung on marius's every word; shared his sports and hunting; tried to regain a moment of his lost youth that he might be a comrade as well as a father. at times a strange mood took him, when he, eudemius the proud, became humbly grateful that marius should be willing to mate with the ill-starred daughter of his house. in general they accepted each other on terms of complete equality. each was receiving and conferring a favor; there was no debt on either side. marius found himself not in the least embarrassed by his superfluity of parents. he adjusted himself to the circumstances with tact and a sympathetic consideration which would scarcely have been expected of him. he managed the two fathers with consummate skill, divided his attentions honorably between them, and played the role of demigod to perfection. when livinius and eudemius were together, he was circumspect, careful lest he arouse parental jealousy on either side; but when he and eudemius were alone, he cast aside restraint and called him "father" to eudemius's heart's content. more and more the two came to lean on the ready strength of him; since it is the law of life that the old, for all their wisdom and the experience of their years, shall inevitably come to look for support and guidance to the young, who enter the lists unproven in all but strength. six months at least must elapse before marius could lawfully claim what was already his in fullest measure. there were endless settlements to be made, for eudemius was determined that nothing should be left undone which would assure the maintenance of his name and fortune. marius's heirs must take the name, even as he himself must do; the gold and lands must be protected so far as human means might devise. eudemius had lawyers from the famous law-school at eboracum, and spent long hours in his library, poring over deeds and instruments. there must be an exact accounting of his estates in britain and in rome; houses, lands, personal effects, and slaves. also, since an imperial alliance could have been effected with scarcely greater pomp and circumstance than eudemius planned, six months was the shortest time in which the festivities could be arranged. "while i live," said eudemius, in one of their daily talks together, "i shall retain nominal control as head of the family. when you write _diis manibus_ over me, every denarius will belong to you and the heirs of your body forever. but should the gods of the shades claim me before you are legally my inheritor, all will revert to our lord the emperor as guardian of the girl, to be parcelled out among his minions, and there will be left nothing. therefore my haste." with this, marius had entire sympathy. he also welcomed the speed with which the business was being put through. if eudemius had changed, marius was changing also. for no man can look on power well-nigh as limitless as any man below a sovereign may wield, knowing that power between his own hands for good or ill, and not become either a despot or a chastened man. and there comes a moment in the transition when it is doubtful which role will fit. marius, in the natural course of events, had reached this stage. he was sobered at the prospect opening before him; withal his ambition was mounting by leaps and bounds. there seemed nothing which he could not do. he thrilled at the contemplation of the position which would be his; for he was human and roman, and power, and still more power, was as the breath of life to his nostrils. and he thrilled again at the absolute confidence placed in his integrity by eudemius; for he was honorable, and that his honor should remain untarnished as his sword was the only law to which he owned. but since this would generally serve all other purposes, it sufficed. ii over the marshes twilight was falling. the sun had set; the western sky was tinged with cold pale lemon; further, where the color faded into the dusky dome of night, hung a wan evening star. the land was snow-bound and desolate as far as the eye could see. the marsh-ford was glazed with a thin sheet of ice, through which, by the banks, clumps of black frozen reeds protruded. through this ice, much broken by wheels, dark shallow water showed. on the other side of thorney the river flowed sluggish and sullen, ice-bound along its banks. midstream, making slow way to the island, a round clumsy coracle, such as were used by fishermen, was paddling, the only vessel abroad. in it sat two persons, the boatman and eldris. she sat huddled forlornly in the coracle's bottom, shivering in her long black cloak. two carts creaked from the high-road down to the marsh-ford on the northern side of the island, and labored through, their drivers muffled to the eyes in cloaks with heavy hoods drawn close around their faces. on the island itself men appeared at intervals in the alleys between the houses. there were few camp-fires on the beach, showing that those who had come had nearly all found shelter within the houses. the air was keenly cold and very still, so that sounds carried clearly; but, unaccountably, there were few sounds. at this, the busiest time of the day, thorney seemed strangely silent. the coracle grounded gently on the beach, almost at the moment that the carts entered the ford on the opposite side of the island. eldris stepped ashore, gave a bit of money to the boatman, who spat on it and cursed. she asked faintly: "canst tell me, friend, where might be the wine-shop of one nicodemus?" but the man, plainly considering that he had given good measure for the wage he had received, was surly. "near the end of this street that runs straight back from the beach to the other side," he answered briefly, and heaved his boat of bull's hide and wicker to his back, and went off, waiting for no further questioning. eldris looked after him in half resentful reproach, and started up the street which cut across the island from ford to ford, walking slowly like one faint and weary from long continued exertion. in all the length of the street she saw no one who might direct her to the wine-shop. it was deserted, save for stray prowling dogs that nosed and shivered among heaps of refuse. lights showed through chinks from behind closed doors of houses; there was a smell of cooking in the air; at times a low-pitched growl of talk or muffled boisterous laughter reached her. dusk was deepening fast and the cold was bitter. eldris stumbled on toward the end of the street, her eyes searching the houses on either hand. when but three remained between her and the open strip of beach on the marsh side, she paused irresolute. one was a low and vulgar place, its door fast closed, no light to be seen about it. the second was a half burnt ruin, where cattle had been stalled. the third seemed of somewhat better class. it presented a blank wall to the street, broken only by a low and narrow door with a wicket, betraying nothing. eldris, still hesitating, saw two carts, growing out of the gloom ahead, coming toward her. she heard the thud of the horses' feet on the frozen ground, the creak of wheels and straps, finally the voices of the drivers. "surely they will know this nicodemus," she said, and started forward to hail them, when a word of one carter, shouted back to the other, a few yards to the rear, transfixed her where she stood and sent her shivering with fright as well as cold. "quicker, man, or we'll get no bed this night. hito will have something to say to us for the hours we've been away, i'm thinking." swift terror seized on eldris at the word. that there might be two hitos in the country she never stopped to think. these were eudemius's men; if they saw her, they would report to hito at the house; she would be searched for, overtaken, and suffer the fate of captured runaway slaves. in a panic she fled back to the blank-walled house and beat upon the door. instantly it was opened. in her excitement she had time for no surprise at this, no feeling but relief that no time was lost. as the carters drew abreast of the door, she slipped within and slammed it shut. "well!" said the one who had opened. "what are you trying to do?" "pardon!" eldris stammered. "there were men passing--" at her voice the woman looked at her keenly. "girl, you are frozen with cold! this is no night for you to be abroad." "i could not help it!" said eldris with chattering teeth. her voice failed her with her strength; before she had time to so much as see the woman's face all things grew dark before her eyes. the woman caught her as she fell. she awoke to life again with burning pains in her face and head, and found two women bending over her. one held a bowl, from which the other was rubbing eldris's face with snow. both were young; both were tawdrily dressed, with many strings of beads and rings on neck and fingers. eldris, looking at them, raised her head, and asked the first question that came into her head. "where am i?" the woman with the bowl smiled a little. she was a fair-haired creature, with eyes of saxon blue, with hollow cheeks and scarlet lips. "do you not know the house of chloris?" she asked. eldris shook her head. her eyes asked a question which her lips had not strength to utter. the second woman spoke; a dark-haired beauty, she, with a profile of purest grecian outline. "cease thy chatter, sada! canst not see the girl is dead with cold and hunger? leave me the bowl and go get food and wine." sada put down the bowl and ran out of the room. "your face was frozen," said the greek. "it is well that you found help in time." "you are good," eldris murmured with stiff lips. she was dropping to sleep again through sheer exhaustion in spite of pain, when sada returned with a tray which held a bowl, smoking hot, an ampulla of wine, and a cheap brass cup. between them the women roused eldris and fed her carefully. as her strength began to return, she looked about her with quickening interest. but the room told her nothing. it was small and bare, furnished with but the bed on which she lay, a copper brazier of charcoal, and a couple of wooden stools. the women, over her head, talked in low voices. "she will sleep to-night, and to-morrow our mistress will see her," said sada. "where didst find her, eunice?" "at the door," the greek answered. "i was stationed there to let in you know who, and heard a knock. so this girl entered, crying out that men were after her, so far as i could understand, and slammed the door before i could say her nay. you told chloris of her, then?" sada nodded and laid a finger on her lips. "she sleeps," she whispered. "let us go." but eldris opened heavy eyes with effort. "pray you tell me where is the wine-shop of nicodemus!" she murmured, husky with drowsiness. "it is there that i must go and wait--" the tall greek eunice laid a hand on her aching head. "sleep now," she said. "to-morrow will be time enough to know." and eldris slept, as lost to the world behind the dead blank wall as nicanor in his dungeon cell. it seemed to her, in her sleep, that she lay with body dead but soul alive and conscious. she dreamed confusedly, strange formless dreams, in which women dark and fair, hito, nicanor, and herself were involved inextricably. she dreamed of stealthy whisperings behind closed doors, of laughing faces which looked down upon her as she lay with body dead and soul conscious. with awakening came remembrance and a thrill of apprehension. she lifted herself on an elbow and saw the saxon girl sada sitting on the floor, regarding her steadfastly. "have i slept long?" eldris asked. "it is evening again," said sada. "then i must go at once!" eldris exclaimed. she got out of bed, tottering a little, and shivering in the chilly air of the room. "if thanks be any payment for what you have done for me, you have all of mine. they are all i have to give." sada answered nothing. she helped eldris to dress, combed her hair, and brought her food. then eldris, in a fever to be at her journey's end and know what was in store for her, said again: "pray you tell me where is the wine-shop of nicodemus"--and thought the other smiled. but sada, instead of answering, said only: "before you go, our mistress would hold speech with you." "your mistress? are you, then, slaves?" eldris ventured. a strange look crossed sada's face. "ay," she answered. "slaves, who shall die in bondage." she led eldris from the room across a small and ill-paved court to another door. "you will find her here," she said, and pushed eldris gently across the threshold. the room was lighted by many lamps, some of pottery of the cheapest sort, others of wrought bronze, and was filled with a strange and subtle perfume. there was a confusion of furniture, and the walls were hung with curtains, which gave the place a bizarre and eastern look. so much eldris took in with her first step forward. then she saw a figure seated upon a mattress on the floor, a fat and shapeless figure, bunched in many garments. atop of the fat figure was a fat face, with thin hair whose natural gray showed through its ruddy dye, with flabby painted cheeks, and heavy-lidded eyes darkened beneath with antimony. a greek might have called it the face of a greek, and looked again to make sure; a roman might have called it the face of a roman. in it one seemed to catch a hint, mysterious and elusive, of all ages and all nations. once it had been a fine face; even, in a time long past, it had been touched with beauty. now it was at once a relic and a monument. the substance was the same, but transmuted into coarser mould. where had been soft blue tracings were red and angry veins; where had been gracious roundness was gross fleshiness. only the brow, god-made, the only feature which may be neither made nor marred by human means, remained the same, broad and white, and smooth as marble. the woman sat perfectly motionless, looking at nothing. on her fat hands, which rested on her knees, were rings set with blazing stones; on every finger a ring, and on every ring a slender chain which led back over the hand to a heavy wristlet of gold in which a great ruby burned. her garments were held by fibulæ of iron and bone, cheaply made; around her neck were many strings of beads, some of carved jet, some of silver, some of colored glass. in her grotesqueness and impassivity she might have posed as a graven goddess of some unholy rite. in the sight of her, also, was something so unexpected that eldris stopped and stared. "will you close that door?" said the woman. her voice was low-pitched and clear and very sweet, with no hint of coarseness in its modulations. coming from such a bulk it was surprising--more, it was startling. eldris obeyed, taken wholly aback. "now come hither." eldris came. the woman's heavy-lidded eyes settled on her as a vulture settles on its prey, devouring her, line by line, feature by feature, until, to her surprise and discomfort, eldris felt herself flushing as though she had been under the eyes of a man. "whence come you?" said the soft voice; so commonplace a question and so casually asked, that eldris was nearly betrayed into indiscretion. she caught herself and said instead: "from londinium." "and you are--" the woman looked her over again. "perhaps a dancer, or maybe a mime, running away because your master misused you?" "a dancer--yes, that is it," said eldris, catching at the invention. "and my master misused me, and i ran away. now i seek the wine-shop--" the woman laughed, a silvery tinkle of mirth. "child, spare your conscience!" she said lightly. "see, let me tell you how it lies with you. whence come you? from a great house to the southward, where one hito rules with a rod of fear. what are you? a slave, my dear, and a runaway, with your life, in consequence, forfeit and lying this moment in my hand. some one helped you to get away, and bade you wait for him at the wine-shop of this master nicodemus, for whom you clamor. how dare you put me and mine in jeopardy, girl, by thrusting yourself upon us? know you not the penalty visited on those who harbor fugitive slaves?" eldris started back from her, gray and pinched with fear. how did the woman know? who had told her? eldris could not guess; knew nothing but that her life indeed lay in the fat jewelled hands resting on the woman's knees. but the latter's tone changed. perhaps there was in her something of the feline; the instinct of the cat to gambol with its prey. she laughed again. "nay, child!" she said gently. "i did but sport with thee. and i am sorry, poor hunted rabbit. never fear, my girl--chloris has yet to turn distress from her door. how do i know these things? why, that is easily answered, since all night long in sleep your tongue went over this and that--such a babble as was never heard. the tongue by day may lie, but the tongue by night speaks truth. my women who waited on you did piece its fragments, and came with the whole and told me. now i have this to say: stay in this house, and you shall be safer than in your father's. when search is made for you, be sure the searchers will come hither, and that is the best thing that could be. you will not be the first girl who has sought shelter with chloris. and i dare take the risk of keeping you, because i am so very sure that you will not be found. if the house be searched, no one of your description would be found herein--and you yourself might tell the stationarii so without fear. stay with me, and you shall have food and shelter and protection from the law." "and i--what wouldst have of me in return?" asked eldris slowly. "naught but what you would give willingly," said chloris. "mark you this, girl: chloris forces no man nor woman to do her bidding. if one wishes to enter here, she may enter; if one wishes to leave, she may leave. i can but repeat what i have said. come to me and you shall be safe--i'll lay my life on that. if you will not, well, go your way; you shall not be betrayed by me or mine." "if you would but let me be servant to you!" eldris begged. "i am friendless and weary, and i dread to face the world again, for there is no rest nor safety for me at all. i would work in scullery or in kitchen, and serve you loyally and gladly; more than this i will not do. once i fled to escape shame; shall i then seek that from which i fled?" "so be it, then," said chloris. "i shall not compel you, for that is not the way of chloris. you have told so much while no sense was in you that you might now straighten out the tale. i see your doubts; you do not know me, yet you have your opinion. that is right, child; better for one's own peace of mind to trust too little than too much. but you need fear nothing. i, too, was friendless once, and weary once, and found no rest nor safety. that was long and long ago; but sometimes i think of it, even these days. so, if you will, tell your tale; and if you will not, keep it. but remember, i have said that your secret shall not be betrayed by me or mine. many things i have come to hold lightly, but my promise is not one of them." "i will tell," said eldris. it was an impulse, born of she knew not what emotion. so she told, taking a fellow-mortal on trust for sake of the faith that was in her; and again the heavy-lidded eyes fastened on her, never wavering from her face as she told her tale. "i am slave to the lord eudemius, him whom men call the torturer. hito, who is steward there, hath persecuted me for a year and more, so that i went in dread of him. six nights ago i escaped from that house through the help of one therein, and was told by him to seek thorney, and nicodemus who kept a wine-shop there. but i dared not come here direct lest i be traced at once. i wandered, seeking what food i might, and then i lost my way. for five days did i toil on, but yesterday regained my road. i had strayed wrong many miles, but it may be that this was a good thing, if it would help to throw off those pursuing. for unless i can find hiding, i shall be lost." "and that one who aided your escape?" said chloris. "i do not think it would be just to speak of him," eldris answered, hesitating. "what i have told concerns myself. there is no need that another should be put in danger through me." "is he your lover?" under those changeless, boring eyes, dull color crept into eldris's white face. "nay," she answered. "do you, then, love him?" "nay," said eldris again. "i think--" she spoke slowly, as though the words were impelled--"i think that no one loves him. rather is he looked on with fear and hate." "then must he rear his head in some fashion above the herd," said chloris, and laughed at the uncomprehension in eldris's eyes. but with the mention of nicanor, remembrance of his direction returned anew to eldris, seduced for a moment by sure promise of safety. "he bade me go to this nicodemus, and i dare not do otherwise," she said distressfully. "last night i was searching for the place. if he were to come and find me not there--" "so, he will be a runaway also?" said chloris, lightly. and at eldris's distress--"fear not, foolish! should not all slaves stand together? body of bacchus! did they do so, there would shortly be no slaves! but that is as it must be. as for nicodemus, know you what place his wine-shop is? a drinking den where violent men gather to brawl and gamble. no fit one, truly, for a maid! rather, stay you here, and when this unloved comrade of yours arrives, why, i'll hear of it, and you shall know." eldris hesitated and lost her game. chloris clapped her hands. sada entered, with a glance full of curiosity. "take the girl to the kitchen," chloris gave command. "tell the cooks she will serve as scullery maid and naught else. and hark you, sada girl! no word of last night's doings, or it will go hard with you. now go, the two of you." she waved them away, and they went out and left her sitting there. "she is strange!" said eldris, pondering deeply. "ay, strange!" sada echoed. "us she rules with a rod of iron, and yet--we love her, every one." "i fear her," said eldris, trying, after her nature, to analyze the emotions in her. "for she is old and very evil. and i was helpless, and she gave me help; homeless, and she took me in." iii the winter wore away and the great house hummed with preparation for the marriage festivities of marius and varia. all the friends of eudemius and of livinius and marius were bidden; rich men and powerful, these, foremost of the circle of feudal lords whose power in britain had become supreme, and whose allegiance to the empire was long since merely nominal. of them were quintus fabius, a senator in the curia, or governing body of londinium; caius julius valens, duumvir--chief magistrate, with rank corresponding in some sort to that of governor--of isca silurum, that great city which in the old days the second legion, the augustan, had made famous. also came the comes litoris saxonici, marcus silenus pomponius, count of the saxon shore, in whose ward were the eastern marches and the fens, of whose ancient power all the responsibilities and few of the prerogatives were left; maximus crispis, who owned the largest villa at the fashionable aquæ solis, and boasted his own private and complete system of mineral baths; and fifty others with names as great as these. eudemius threw himself into the arrangements with an energy which made light of all obstacles. and of these there were many, since inevitably the disordered state of the country reacted on private concerns. from all the ends of the earth treasures were brought at his command. swift-winged vessels, manned by tireless rowers whose one law of life was speed, came laden with rich stuffs and gems from the east; cups and dishes of virgin gold, crusted with uncut jewels; statuettes of bacchus, the god of feasts, crowned with grapes of purple amethyst and leaves of emerald; of fortuna, with the horn of amalthea; of hymen the torch-bearer, god of marriage; cups of figured and embossed glass, inscribed with sentiments such as "bibe feliciter!" or "ex hoc amici bibunt,"--all intended to be bestowed upon the guests as souvenirs during the feasts at which they were to be used. lustrous silks came from far-away serica; cloth of gold from persian looms; glassware, fragile as tinted bubbles, from the great works near lucrinum; spices and perfumes from arabia, aloe, myrrh, and spikenard. to all that he owned he added tenfold more. sometimes his ships were lost at sea; sometimes plundered by bands of pirates at his very doors. then a messenger would be sent speeding by night and day to the agent from whom that ship had come, to return in a time incredibly short with an identical cargo--if by any means this could be duplicated. in this way he more than once sunk what was in truth a fortune without a denarius of profit in return. he wished to have tigers and lions brought from africa, that his guests might hunt royal game, and spent many thousand aurei before he discovered that the cold invariably killed those of the animals which had survived the voyage. so he gave up that idea and stocked his parks and forests with wild boar,--the prime favorite for big game hunting,--with wolves, and lordly stags, and the wary, wild _bos longifrons_, which afforded as good sport as might be wished. each day goods arrived, and messengers came with some rare thing brought by hand half across the world; each day bales and boxes were opened in rooms set apart for them; and each day eudemius called his daughter and put into her careless hands some costly trifle which men had sweated and striven like overworked beasts of burden to lay before her. when varia's last month of maidenhood was nearly gone, eudemius called hito to him, to give account of what was in his hands. in the house were so many services of gold and silver, so many of samian ware from aretium, costly enough for an emperor's table; in the cellars, so many amphoræ of falernian wine and wines from cyprus, so many ollæ of ale and beer. in the servants' quarters were so many slaves of the field and of the household, male and female; so many trained to trades, so many dancing boys, musicians, and dancing girls. there were so many coloni and casarii, who owned eudemius as patronus and paid house and land rent yearly in money, produce, or service, who belonged to the estate and might not be sold without it. of the slaves those who had died were accounted for; those who had been resold, or exchanged, or manumitted,--all save two. "these, lord," said hito, without a change of face, "are two of whom i had it in mind to speak these many months ago. but when all things were to be prepared, there was no time. this woman, eldris, did attempt escape; for what reason is not known. i gave command to pursue her. this was done. but when the men found her, she was dead; it is to be thought of cold and hunger. so she was put away. let not my lord think that his servant was neglectful; we recaptured her, but she was dead. this one, nicanor, was committed to the dungeons by order of our lord marius; it is now nearly eight months ago. and for what reason is not known either. he is there still, since no further command hath been received regarding him. he was taken with a madness, and well-nigh killed my lord's slave. i would have put him to the rack, but my lord marius said nay, that he was to be held until wanted. this was done." lies and truth mingled on his tongue like oil and honey. marius, sitting at eudemius's elbow, looked up. "i remember the fellow," he said, searching his memory. "i meant to bring him to thy notice, that thou shouldst deal with him, and as i live, i forgot him. he it was who sought lady varia in her garden and was found by marcus, whom you killed because he would not betray. but it appears, from what i could learn of varia since then, that the man did no harm--was rather a poor fool telling crazy tales to which she listened as a child. it was a whim of varia's, nothing more. and nerissa doth swear that always she was within sight and hearing of the two,--though whether she says this to free her own skirts from blame, i know not,--and that all which was said and done was with her knowledge, for the humoring of her lady. so that the fellow hath done no actual wrong, it would seem." from the high pinnacle of his power he could afford to be indifferent--and he and eudemius had weightier matters than a slave's fate to settle. "hath he the privilege of trial?" eudemius asked. "in what degree is he slave?" "absolute!" said hito, promptly. "neither colonus nor casarius nor the son of such is he, nor even _esne_, whose trade might win him privileges." "then send him to the mines," said eudemius, with indifference. "if he hath done nothing, he cannot die, but his presumption deserves punishment, and this he shall have,"--and was deep in fresh papers before hito had left the room. hito summoned wardo, upon whom of late days his favor had unexpectedly descended, and laid on him his commands. "friend, there be a dozen and odd slaves marked for punishment, who are to be sent to the mines within the week. and among them is one black brute nicanor; he goeth first of all. thus our lord commands. thou shalt go with them, with two men or three to aid thee, to receive their tally from the superintendent of the mines. make arrangements so soon as may be, for i would be well rid of them. and if any seek escape by flight or mutiny--well, there is no need to be over easy with them. they will not be missed." but for one reason and another it was full two weeks before wardo could get his people together; and by that time the festivities had begun, with the first of the arriving guests. first to come was marcus pomponius, count of the saxon shore, with his wife gratia, a woman whose beauty was famed throughout the island. he was a stately man, of the type which had made rome what she would never be again,--mistress of the world. his face was pale, and high-bred, and graven deep with the chisel-lines of thought; his hair was hoary, a silver crown; his eyes, under black contrasting brows, were quick, keen, indomitable, as in his long-dead days of youth. eudemius received his guests at the threshold of his house, attired royally, with a torques of gold about his neck and the great signet ring of his house upon his thumb. gracious and commanding, he made his friends welcome with a courtly ease which no brooding years of solitude could rust. beside him were livinius and marius; and to all who came eudemius presented marius as "my son." so shortly after the first guests came others, alone, or with their wives and daughters, until the great house was crowded full with busy life. the stately halls, warmed, perfumed with exotic plants, resounded with talk grave and gay, with songs and merriment and laughter. musicians played on lyre and cithara, reed and tambour; there began an endless round of feasting, hunting, games, and sports. from the women's side of the house came floating breaths of perfume, suppressed laughter, a subtle emanation of aristocratic and luxurious femininity. and varia, the pivotal point on which all hinged, the least considered of all of the household, was given neither peace nor solitude. from day till dark women fluttered around her, examining robes, jewels, head-dresses, shoes, with question and comment. she must try on this and try on that; she must be petted and caressed like a pampered plaything, and all with significant glances of pity and concern. varia was very quiet these days. childlike, she hid from marius; childlike, sulked when he found her. childlike, also, she hung in raptures over the gifts which were showered upon her, nor ever dreamed that they were the price with which she was bought. she hung aloof, shyly, from the invasion of her home; in her eyes a child's longing to join the merrymaking, mingled with all its dread of a rebuff. marius, for his part, bore his honors easily. that he was popular among the guests went without saying. he hunted with the men and talked of state and war; he parried the agile thrusts of the women with laughing skill; he made persistent love to varia. nerissa, the old nurse who had brought up varia from her forsaken childhood, going in to her charge to instruct her formally in the duties of wife and mother which lay before her, looked in at the door, smiled to herself, and went away. half a dozen young beauties had taken possession before her, with chatter and laughter--slender roman girls, of the haughtiest blood in britain. julia danced on the marble floor, in and out among the slender columns, in jewelled sandals of varia's, her skirts held high; nigidia and valencia, between them, examined a peplus of white silk soft enough to be drawn through the hand, and woven with threads of gold. gratia, named for her mother, and daughter of count pomponius of the saxon shore, sat on the couch beside varia, slowly waving a new fan of peacock's feathers set in a handle of chased gold. paula and virginia were turning over an ivory casket of trinkets at a table near by. varia sat with empty hands, watching and listening. for the first time in her darkened life she was knowing the companionship of her own age and kind, very shy, but longing greatly to be friendly, to talk and laugh as did these radiant others. "tell us, varia, what thy lover hath given thee?" paula called gayly across the room. julia, ceasing her dancing, put off the sandals, slipped on her own, and came to sit by varia, on the other side. "ay, tell us!" she cried, and slipped an arm around varia's neck, girlwise. varia flushed, half with pleasure at the embrace, half with confusion. "many things, but i will have none of them," she answered. "now but thou art a strange girl!" cried paula. "here thou hast a lover, on fire with love for thee, as all the world may see, and thou wilt avail thyself nothing of him. by the girdle of venus! had i such a lover pursuing me, i'd lead him such a dance that when i did yield he'd swear there was no goddess in heaven like me, and the beckon of my finger would be his command." "thou, paula!" gratia scoffed, and shook the peacock fan at her. "thou who hast more lovers than fingers on thy hands--" "ay, but truly none quite like varia's here. whom can you name so strong, so masterful, so--well, so all that a girl would have? varia, i am jealous! why chose he thee instead of me?" "that were easy to tell," nigidia murmured over the end of the peplus she held. but varia did not hear. "i would that he had!" she said seriously, so that gratia hugged her in a gale of laughter. "i do not wish to be pursued, as you say." "now did ever woman wish that before!" cried julia. "even though we act perforce as though we did not. but i will say, cara, that thou hast succeeded very well with him. for it needs practice to treat a man with icy disdain when all the while thou art secretly longing that he will be bold and dare thy displeasure. when a girl knows how to tell a man that he must not, but he may if he will, her education is complete." "i do not understand," varia said slowly, and flushed again. "i am very stupid; but--may, if he will, do what?" "nay, never put such fancies in this innocent's head!" cried gratia, in a protest only half serious. "she will learn soon enough without thy teaching." nigidia left the ivory casket and came and sat on a footstool at varia's feet, looking up at her with black eyes alight with raillery. "tell us, cara," she said, "dost love him very much, this so masterful lover of thine?" "nay," said varia, in all seriousness. "i love him not at all." at once they fluttered around her, exchanging glances. "why, how may that be? tell us of it! how did he woo thee? what did he say and do?" varia, laughing because they laughed, considered a moment, her head on one side. "as thou sayest, he is strong and very masterful," she said. "how did he woo me? why, as ever a man wooes a maid, i suppose." "you suppose?" said nigidia, sweetly, with a glance at the others. "do you not know? has none sought you in marriage before?" varia shook her head. she knew not how to parry their curiosity; they, seeing this, were the more curious. "no," she confessed, low-voiced. they looked at her and at each other with round eyes of wonder in which laughter lurked. "thy husband thy first lover!" nigidia exclaimed, as one incredulous. "poor little thing! girls, is this not sad to hear? but then, poor child, how couldst thou help it, shut away in here where thou canst see never a man at all?" "oh, i have seen a man!" varia cried eagerly. "it is not quite so bad with me as that! a man like unto no other man in the world, i think!" her face flushed, her eyes shone. again a glance went round. "he, too, is strong and masterful, but tender--ah, so tender!" she clasped her hands; her lips trembled. "so, it is he whom thou lovest?" said paula. again the old pained bewilderment grew in varia's eyes. "i--do not know," she faltered. "but i do!" said paula. "see, then, is this how it is with thee?" she glanced at her companions with lowered lids; they drew closer, silent. "night and day his voice, his eyes, are with thee. his name is a song which thy heart singeth dumbly; when it is spoken it makes thee quiver like a harp on which a certain note is touched. at the very thought of him, of his words, and his caresses, thou dost flush and tremble as though his hands had touched thee. (girls, see the color burn!) a dear and tender pain is at thy heart; thou livest in dreams, and art possessed by aching unrest which yet is sweet. is it not even thus with thee?" "ay," said varia, very low. "it is even thus." "then thou dost love this man," said paula. her tone was final, admitting of no doubt. varia, flushed from throat to brow, looked at her with shining eyes. "ay, i love him--i know it now! for night and day his voice and eyes are with me, and his name and the words he hath said are a song to me. and night and day i hear him calling me, from far and far away, as so many times he hath called me to the garden. but now--woe is me! i may not come." "get married, sweet, to him who loves thee, and then thou mayest have him whom thou dost love," said nigidia. "if one has courage to do as one wills, and cleverness not to be found out, may not one do as one chooses? i know that rubria, wife of maximus crispus, hath two lovers, and one of them is guest in this house. who is thy lover, dear? what his name and station?" varia hesitated. the impulse which kept her from revealing the truth was dumb and blind, but it was there, and it saved her. she bit her lip. "i will not tell!" she said in distress. "we promise not to take him from thee," said nigidia, and laughed with the rest. "he sure must be the highest in the land, to win thy love," chimed in paula, ready to carry on the game. "perhaps it is fabian, the friend of marius, who hath the eyes of a god. or perhaps it is old aulus plautus, of gobannium. he is a widower these twenty years, and hath no teeth and but one eye--but his jewels sparkle enough for the other." but varia's face changed, and her eyes grew dark and hunted. "now you do make sport of me!" she cried. "what have i done that ye should bait me thus?" before any girl could answer she faced them in a mist of quick, angry tears. "i am glad that my father's guests may be thus easily amused!" they started upon her, in a moment all contrition, ready to embrace her and make amends; but she jumped off the couch and fled from them into her bedchamber and closed the door. "we are as mean as we can be!" said gratia, with reproach. "i think it great shame for us that we should not have remembered how it is with her. i am glad i was not first to start it!" paula and nigidia took fire. "what have we done save what we would do to any bride?" asked paula. "who could have thought she would take it so? but she is not so different from the rest of us, perhaps!" "perhaps no better!" said nigidia. "then would she have thy teaching to thank for that!" gratia flashed back. "and it is in my mind that the less she gets of it the better it will be for her." when nerissa came again, shortly, it was to find her lady alone and weeping. but this was no new thing of late. nerissa came prepared to speak solemnly, as was her duty; varia turned a petulant shoulder to her. "why will ye not let me be in peace?" she cried. "i do not wish to wed--i am happy as i am. i will _not_ be meek and obedient, and incline in all things unto my lord husband! i do not wish him for husband! i hate him. and oh, nerissa, in three days--" she wept afresh. nerissa stroked her hair. "there, then, lady-bird, never take it so! it is right that all maids should wed. the lord marius will be kind to thee; he will give thee great affection. at least, the gods grant that he may! thou wilt have jewels such as thou hast never dreamed of, and robes such as thou hast never seen. thou wilt be a very great lady, little nursling o' mine. ay me, but it is strange! these arms were the first to cradle thee; these hands dressed thee in the first little clothes of thy babyhood. such _little_ clothes! now they deck thee for thy bridal--and perhaps it may not be so long before they have other little clothes to handle. see, child of my heart, wouldst not be glad to have a tiny son of thine own, to love and play with? wouldst not like to feel a round little head against thy heart, two so tiny hands opening the gates of all happiness before thee? wouldst not see two baby eyes lulled into sleep by thy drowsy crooning? say, sweet one, wouldst thou not like this?" varia raised her face slowly, starry eyes wide and very sweet with awe, young lips parting in reverent wonder. "ay," she breathed, and flushed and trembled. "i should like that. a little son, of all mine own! but i would not have it his son, o nerissa! i would he might be son of a man such as i have dreamed of; a man brave, and rough, and tender--ay, all these! what should i care that he had no gold--have i found it such a blessing? for he would have more than gold--that which no man could give him, and no man take away. and his son should be like him; and the son of such a man i could love, and be proud that he was mine." nerissa smiled, a tender hand on varia's head. "ay, i know, i know! poor little one, we all have our dreams--even thou--and we all must wake from them. if this son of thine should be as the one who is to be his father, it will be very well. for the lord marius is an honorable man, and strong." varia made a gesture of fierce protest. "bah! if he looked at me with those eyes, black and haughty, if his mouth was thin and his nose like an eagle's beak, and his hair stiff, so that i could not run it through my fingers, i should hate him even as i hate his father!" nerissa laughed. "sweet, my baby girl, it would be long or ever thou couldst see haughtiness in the eyes of that baby of thine, or thin lips; and as for the nose--! and i dare swear that when thou first dost look, thou wilt not find any hair at all, much less what is stiff. come, cheer thee, my very dear! believe that thy lord father knoweth what is best for thee. thou art his own; he would never do thee wrong." "now am i not so sure of that!" said varia, and her voice changed and was strange. "oh, nerissa, it is not that i would not wed! i, too, would know what joy and fulness a woman's life may hold, and perhaps i am not too much fool to understand. but one cannot teach me from whom i shrink with every breath i draw. these things i cannot understand. when i would think and question, there is something just beyond me, which i cannot grasp,--" she raised a hand, groping,--"something which escapes me, and when i think i have it, lo! it vanishes, and i wander in the dark. birds i can understand, and trees, and little flowers, and clouds, and sunlight, and rippling brooks; but men and women i cannot understand; they all are strange to me, and i do not at all know why. i fear them; i am restless and unhappy. one only in all the world have i seen who was not strange. him i could understand; when he spoke, all my heart sang in answer; it was what i longed to say and could not, and i do not at all know why. there was that in him which was in me, and yet i am fool and he is not, and this also i cannot understand. will it ever be that i shall understand, o nerissa?" nerissa sat on the couch beside her and drew her into her arms. "some day, surely, my pet," she soothed. "think of it no more--never fret thyself with foolish fancies. now it groweth late and is time to sleep. thou shalt be my baby once again, for this night is the last i shall have thee all mine own." she called slave women, and had them pack away the scattered silks and gauzes in the chests from which they had been taken, and make all ready for the night. thereafter she sent them all away, even the body-slaves and tire-women, and herself waited upon her mistress. she freed varia's hair from the jewelled pins which held it, combed its dusky length, and braided it in two long braids. she brought water in a great brazen jar, and filled the sunken marble bath in the red-tiled bathroom, and bathed her lady with scented soaps and perfumes. she cradled her in her arms, wrapped in warm rugs, and rocked and crooned old slumber songs as though her charge had been in fact a child again. the lamps burned low, the room was warm and still. varia, nestled in the arms that had been to her a mother's arms, stirred drowsily once or twice, and each time nerissa bent over her, and felt her feet beneath the rugs to see that they were warm, studying with tender care the soft outline of rounded cheek, the long lashes down-dropped to hide the starry eyes, the quiet rise and fall of breath. "she is but a child! she will forget!" she murmured. but varia spoke, in a voice straight from the land of dreams, opening upon her eyes misty with sleep. "one does not forget!" she said drowsily. "one loses a thing, for a long time, it may be, but some shadow of that thing is always left, even to a fool. is it not so?" "ay, if thou sayest," said nerissa, as readily as she would have agreed that pigs were butterflies if her lady had willed them so. but varia was asleep before she spoke. all through that night nerissa held her nursling in fond, anxious arms that knew no weariness, brooding over her as a mother with her child. just as gray dawn came drifting in at the windows, the feast in the great house broke up, and the guests, most of them half drunken, sought their rooms. and just at dawn word began to pass from station to station, and from town to town, of a city set in flames--fair anderida in the south, as the crow flies, sixty roman miles away. but of this, and what it portended, the villa knew nothing. iv many things happened that day which the villa and the world came to know too well. the sun was scarcely an hour high when mounted men rode to the villa, demanding to see its lord. of these, one was aurelius menotus, one of the two duumviri or governors of anderida; and with him was his son felix, small and fair of skin, with weak eyes and a loose, stubborn mouth, who wore no sword and whose arm was in a sling. slaves brought them to eudemius, and he welcomed them, and they told their tale. aurelius was a shrunken man, with a baboon face, straggling gray hair, and hands perfect as those of a god. he had ridden hard all night, and was pasty pale with fatigue and trouble; and his staff, mostly old men, were in hardly better plight. two of the servants with them were wounded; it was told that a third had died on the road. they were cared for and given food and wine, and eudemius sent for marius to hear also what they had to tell. no other guests were stirring. "two nights ago men came upon us," aurelius said, in his thin and nervous voice. "they come, men say, from gaul, driven thence by attila the hun, and seek safety among their kinsfolk who are already here. no man can tell how the trouble first began. the first that we in the palace knew, a soldier of the watch came and warned the guard that there was fighting in the lower quarters of the city. for long no one could tell what was the trouble; it was dark, and there was much confusion. i sent out milites stationarii to quell the tumult; these reported that the insurgents, who have given much trouble of late, had joined openly with the barbarians; had overthrown the temple of jupiter and slain the flamen dialis. two hours before midnight, that night, the public baths were blown up in their own steam, and fire broke out in various parts of the city. the barbarians, inflamed with wine and the example of the insurgents, began to plunder. thou knowest my forces have been steadily diminished these last three years, and together the barbarians and the insurgents outnumbered the augustans five to one. my colleague in office, titus honius the abulcian, going out to pacify the people, was slain. i and my companions fled just before daybreak yesterday. many people have taken to the forest. the city is now a very hell of drunkenness, rapine, fire, and smoke. and this, it seems to me, is but the beginning. those barbarians who have long been settled here, upon the eastern shore, and those who still keep coming, will together outnumber us, insurgents and augustans both. it is in my mind to propose that we, the lords of the cities, send again to ætius, proconsul in gaul, for help, even as we did two years ago." "i fear that is what it must come to," said eudemius, thoughtfully. he turned to marius. "think you that ætius can spare us a legion again?" marius shrugged his shoulders. "it is hard to say," he answered. "i think it likely that he will, if he be not himself too hard pressed." "marcus pomponius and quintus fabius are here, with many others of the lords," said eudemius. "we celebrate this day the betrothal feast of my daughter and marius here,--" he laid a hand on the young tribune's shoulder,--"and in three days the marriage. if you will stay, we may talk of this together." "i feel scarce in humor for marriage feasts and gaiety," said aurelius. "my people are dead, my city falling to ashes. but i will stay at least long enough to discuss what plans we may think of for relief. if aught is to be done it should be done quickly." "rest now," eudemius said, "and to-night, if you will, join us at the feasting." he clapped his hands, and when slaves came, ordered that his new guests be taken to rooms and baths prepared for them. they went away, a weary and dejected set of men. eudemius and marius paced the gallery together. "if ætius cannot send help--" said eudemius, following his own train of thought. "have you arms in the house and slaves who can use them?" said marius, following his. "anderida is but sixty miles away, and if these barbarians be, as aurelius thinks, inflamed with wine and blood, they will not stop to think whether or not they attack those who have attacked them." eudemius stopped in his stride. "you think--that?" he said with worried brows. "it had not occurred to me. there have been uprisings, of course, but for the most part the saxons have been peaceful. it is the insurgents who have given most trouble. but you are right; no man can foresee what may happen these days. i will call hito and bid him number the slaves who are capable of bearing arms." hito received his orders, and in turn called wardo, and bade him release all prisoners sentenced to the mines save those suspected of anti-augustan sympathies. these, it was considered, would be most likely to take sides with the barbarians, as the insurgents had done at anderida, and it would be as well to get them out of the way. the villa, being some miles off both the noviomagus road and the bibracte road, might remain unmolested; the fury of barbarians and insurgents might spend itself on the towns nearer the coast,--regnum, portus magnus, and the like. still, their lord had decided that they must be prepared for whatever might come to pass, and prepared they must be. wardo said little during hito's peroration, smiled once or twice at its commencement, and at its close expressed his willingness to obey. he stated that he knew of but a half dozen of those sentenced to punishment who might be suspected of sympathy with the insurgents, and declared that two men would be quite sufficient to act as guard. he was given full permission to arrange the matter as he chose,--hito stipulating only that he and his men should return as promptly as possible,--and went off whistling softly between his teeth. that day there was much activity in the armory and in the slaves' quarters; and rumors flew darkly, and men believed all that they were told. toward evening, aurelius, unable to rest for the burden of apprehension that was on him, begged that the lords might meet in council without delay, that measures should be taken for the relief of the harassed island. therefore, while slaves were busy in the hall of columns, where the betrothal feast was to be held, while varia, amid stormy tears, was arrayed by her servants for the ceremonies, and the women guests were absorbed in toilet mysteries, those of the men who were governors or who were possessed of greatest power in their own cities, were summoned to the library of their host. eudemius spoke first, gravely, with aurelius, pale and silent, on his right hand, and on his left marius, thin-lipped and alert, all the soldier in him roused. and marius, of all the men present, was the youngest. "friends," said eudemius, "i have gathered you here together on a matter of much moment. you all know aurelius menotus, governor of anderida. he hath a tale to tell you, which i doubt not will prove startling. when it is told, we should take counsel together, those of us who are here, without waiting for the lords and governors who for one reason and another are not with us. with some of these we are, as you know, not on good terms. there hath been jealousy and strife, much rivalry and more ill-feeling, between the cities. now, if we hope to save ourselves, all this must be forgotten. if we never agreed before, we must agree now, for a common foe threatens us, against whom nothing short of our united strength will avail." he ceased; and aurelius rose and faced a silent room, standing beside the table, with nervous fingers feeling at a scroll which lay there. [illustration: "half a dozen young beauties had taken possession--girls of the haughtiest blood in britain."] "friends," he began, and cleared his throat and hesitated, "i am here before ye, a man without a home, a governor without a city. two nights ago saxons landed on our coasts, among the marshes, and entered anderida. the details of the whole i have not yet learned; whether they assaulted first, or were provoked by some real or fancied injury of the citizens. however this may be, they set upon us, and slew us, and were joined by certain of the insurgents, who, it seems, have only awaited a chance to rise in open revolt against the empire, as represented in us. united, they outnumbered those who were loyal to me by ten to one, and i and mine, being all unprepared, were forced to flee. we fought our way out of the city, and fled with others into the forest, leaving the barbarians and the insurgents in possession. the temple of jupiter is destroyed and his priests are killed; the statues of the emperor in the forum are wantonly shattered. one of the flamens who escaped joined our party as we fled, and said that those who have committed these outrages are not goths nor vandals, nor yet saxons in revolt, but romans, men of our own blood, who should be of our religion. they it was who destroyed, and incited the barbarians to greater excesses. now i am come to you to plead for help. we stand on the brink of great danger, and we are in no position to help ourselves. it is to others that we must look. where are our troops? we have none, or next to none. daily these barbarians encroach upon us; our seas swarm with pirates, and we cannot resist." marcus pomponius, the count of the saxon shore, raised his head and looked at him. "you are right, but you have not told all,--not so much as the half of it," he said. his voice was low and deep, and resonant as a trumpet. "you, living here in the south, in britannia prima, can have no idea of how things are in maxima cæsariensis, in flavia cæsariensis, or on the eastern shore. one month ago, constantine, my son, came from deva. he says that these provinces are no longer roman, but saxon, and that for the most part without force or bloodshed. as for me and those who were before me, year by year we have seen our power weakening, our troops drawn off, cohort by cohort, until our ward of the eastern marches is but an empty mockery. it is simply that, as we have retreated, saxons have advanced, inch by inch, until now they have gained a foothold from which i believe no power that we may bring can dislodge them. they have settled in our towns, mingled with us, married our women, obeyed our laws--but they are here; and they are not of us, but alien, and they will stay. i hold that this, the beginning of the end, began twenty-seven years ago, when fabian procinus, the consul, abandoned eboracum and moved to the southern provinces with his forces. we can all remember that day, i think. what happened? saxons entered that deserted city and established themselves there. when they became crowded, they moved, not back to their northern fastnesses, but down to other cities and towns of ours. and they are there still. the towns which we destroyed, hoping thus to stay them, they rebuilt. it is true that for the most part they have been peaceable and orderly; but it is also true that when fresh bands have come upon us, these settled ones have sided with them against us. this is where blood is spilled. they may be trying to find peace for themselves, and a land to rest in, but slowly and surely they are either absorbing us or driving us into the sea. this is what we must face to-day." two or three nodded, half reluctantly, as though they recognized a fact long known, and held aloof so far as might be. pomponius glanced from grave face to grave face. his voice dropped a note lower. not for nothing had he been trained to speak in the forum before men. "friends, the fault of the whole matter lieth with us, in roman hands. if romans lose britain, and if saxons win it, it will be the fault of none but romans." a murmur went through the room, wordless, speaking more plainly than words. pomponius raised his hand. "have patience, i pray you, and hear me! what i shall say is, in a manner, treason against our divinity, our lord emperor, yet before now truth hath been found in treason. the crux of the whole matter lieth in the fact that we, romans, lords paramount of britain, have divided ourselves into two sects--religious, if you will; but when was not religion used for state purposes, or state purposes for religion? you cannot divide the two. we are polytheists, worshipping the ancient gods of our fathers, or we are augustans, worshipping the divinity of our lord emperor. and of the two, which is the true faith hath nothing at all to do with the matter. the point lieth in the fact that there are two. beset as we are by outer dangers, it needs small wit to see that our sole hope is in unity of thought and purpose. this division, for ourselves, was bad enough. it was worse when we found pitted against us two other religions, of two separate peoples here with whom we had to deal. one, the religion of the ancient gaels, which we found here, and which was druidical and wholly abhorrent in our eyes; the other, the religion of the goths and saxons, which, like our own elder faith, was polytheistic. "you know that rome's policy hath ever been to absorb, to make bone of her bone and flesh of her flesh what she hath taken for her own. and herein lies her true greatness. but gaelic or british gods would never unite with roman gods; it was an alien creed, with no single point in common. gothic gods would so unite,--mark you that,--for gothic religion differed from roman only in the names of its gods and in a coarser fibre which with us had been refined away. what did we, therefore,--we, that is the romans our fathers,--for the furthering of our purposes and for the glory which was rome's? we took the goths unto ourselves and gave them our religion. we taught them that their hesus was none but bacchus, their freya our venus, their thor our jupiter tonans. but could we do this with the gaels, who had nothing in common with us, whose meaningless rites could have no part in the beliefs of the commonwealth? no. did we therefore give them the privileges of citizenship, the right to hold offices of priesthood and state, which we gave to those goths and saxons who came among us peaceably? no. we made saxons our allies against alien gods, and we did wisely. they fought side by side with us, they tilled our lands, and were our equals. and so long as the old faith was among us, all was well. for to my mind, what i shall tell you, and nothing else, is the secret of rome's power. armies alone can hold a captive people for no longer than steel is bared, and rome knew this. but her religion took up the work where her armies had left it. being eclectic, it embraced all gods,--although this is not to say that every roman worshipped all of these,--and those peoples whom she conquered were not ravished with violence from their creeds and forced to kneel at unlike altars. each nation might find a parallel for its gods in rome's pantheon, and so might be brought without shock into rome's fold. for, take a man's gods from him, whatsoever they may be that he worships, and give him nothing in return to which he can hold, and at once you take from him all that anchors him to the rationalities of life. "therefore i say that so long as the old faith endured, it was well with us. but the worship of the emperor's divinity was instituted; and it was something in which these people could find no parallel to their own gods. they said: 'why should we worship one of whose powers we know nothing? your gods, which it seems after all are our gods under new names, are well enough. we want no other, who is no god of ours. how may this emperor of yours be god as well as man?' but we romans upheld this new religion, with powers of government, with grants of land, with the erection of new temples, with all manner of benefices, for those who would think as we thought. to those who would not, we said: 'worship as we worship, or it will be the worse for you.' who reaped the benefits of this change? we, the augustans, who had conformed to it. who paid the penalty? those who clung to the old order, and so defied us, becoming insurgent. romans became divided even as goths, taking part with them against their own people. and herein were we in grave error, for we needed all our strength, not to fight each other, but to fight our common foes. now it is our turn to pay the penalty for this, and it shall be a heavy one. "the insurgents, few in number as they were, and not powerful, bribed the saxon chieftains, who would else have lived peaceably enough among us, by promises of plunder if they would join with them. and the chieftains were the more readily persuaded to this, since it was a righteous thing to uphold the old gods, and if there was reward for doing it, in the way of booty, so much the better. the romans who set them on were pleased; the gods were pleased; the chieftains were pleased. so here you have it, friends, the prime cause of our undoing. it is our own people, of our blood and our speech, who, rebelling against law and order, are stirring these saxons against us. it is they who have razed augustan temples, destroyed holy relics, and slain augustan priests--they, and not the saxons. i say again: when britain passes from our hands, it will not be by saxon means, but primarily by roman treachery. and saxons, profiting by our internal strife and their own position, will reap the benefits." he ceased; and his words hung in the silence of the room. they looked at him, grave bearded men; and the truth of what he said was in their faces. "you speak as though we were in fault," said an old man, querulously, far down the room. "our fathers, not we, have done these things." "our fathers were romans, and we are romans, and their mistakes are our heritage," said pomponius, sternly. "let us have care that we leave no such heritage to those who shall call us fathers." "britain is not out of our hands yet," said aurelius. "and it is for us to keep her there.--how?" again there fell a silence. out of it a musing voice spoke. "no troops in britain; gaul, our nearest help, beset by huns.... but gaul is our only hope. we must ask ætius for a legion as we did two years ago." a shrug went around the assembly. plainly it said: "there is no other thing to do." "if we could but agree to act together in this!" said the old man. men called him paulus atropus, and bore with his senility for sake of what he had been. "it would seem that in this matter there can be no room for argument; we all must think alike for once. but should we not wait to hear from those of our colleagues who are absent, before we move?" "what need?" aurelius asked feverishly. "as you say, they can but think as we do. there is nothing else to be done; and if we wait to hear from them, and to discuss pro and con, we shall gain nothing and lose time. it is for their safety, as well as ours." "i think we should wait until they can join with us," said paulus stubbornly. the talk eddied over his head. "who will go?" said caius valens; and men turned their eyes to marius. he was the only man in active service there, though not the only one who had seen it. "it needs one swift and sure." "why not marius?" pomponius said, with a friendly glance at marius. "once before he hath come from gaul to our aid; he can win to ætius quicker than any of us; he is a soldier, and knows conditions, and what to ask for." eudemius made a gesture of protest. "friends, believe that i, too, have the best interests of our country at heart," he said quickly. "but marius, who shortly becomes my son, is the one hope of my old age. i would not call him back from what is his duty; if this mission falls to him i shall be the first to speed him. but what need is there for such frantic haste? there have been attacks before, as severe as this one. also this is not the first time we have thought of appealing for help. the need is no more imperative now than many times before. therefore, if he be chosen, i pray you a little time. to-day is his betrothal; in three days his marriage. until then, leave him to me!" few of the lords present but knew eudemius's story and the conditions under which his daughter's marriage would take place; and none who knew did not sympathize. "a week would be time," said pomponius, and one or two nodded. but aurelius struck his clenched fist upon the table. "nay!" he shouted. "i say that he should start this day! it is _my_ city that burns!" "i am ready," said marius. "you all know that i shall start this night if you will it so. but i promise you that this delay shall harm us nothing, since i shall send ahead at once to post relays to the coast, and give command for a vessel to be in waiting at rutupiæ. as to whether i shall be successful, that is another question. it seems to me that ætius will have need of all his men for himself. they are none too many." "do the best you can, and it will be all we ask," said pomponius. old paulus, at his end of the table, leaned his face forward upon his hand. "friends, this is the first time in the history of the world that rome hath withheld aid from her sons who needed it, and cast them off to shift as best they could. and i have lived to see it! i have indeed lived too long!" again heads nodded, gravely and sombrely. paulus was not alone in his bitterness. for the first time in the history of the world men stood aside and watched their country falling into ruins before their eyes with a swiftness greater in proportion to its mighty length of life than ever country had fallen before; and it was a bitter sight. pomponius, courtly, ever mindful of others, was first to shake off the gloom to which paulus had given voice. "friends, we must not make this a solemn betrothal feast!" he said. "we have agreed--the most of us--that the danger is not over pressing. let us then set aside care while we may, for these few days, at least. our host did not bring us together to see long faces. while we live, let us live!" he turned to marius. "for sake of thee and thy bride, friend, we will forget as we may the clouds which threaten us. look to it that when shortly we call on you, we find no cause to regret it." "you shall find no cause," said marius. that afternoon aurelius departed with his people. he would see for himself what damage had been wrought upon his city, and whether or not it was still in the hands of the insurgents and barbarians. he was in no humor for betrothal feasts and merrymaking when his city was lost. he had come there hoping to obtain help and prompt concerted action on the part of his colleagues. he could not get it; so he would go away again. but he left behind him felix, his pale-eyed son, who was wounded and wore his arm in a sling, and for doing so gave no man his reasons. v wardo, the tall saxon, sword-girt and muffled in his cloak, lighted his torch at the cresset which burned at the head of the passage behind the storerooms, and started down the slimy steps leading to the dungeon levels. evening had fallen, fragrant with warm earth-scents and the odors of flowers; a silent night of spring, when earth slept and gathered strength for the new life she should bring forth. all that could be heard of the high feasting going on in the great house was a haunting snatch of music drifting now and again into the night on the soft air. yet wardo knew that in the hall of columns, with its rare frescoes, its lights and perfumes and flowers, men and women, robed in the splendor of their wealth and station, were drinking the health of the betrothed pair from cups which each had cost ten times its weight in gold; that wrestlers, brought from the arena at uriconium, were striving with sweat and strain for the purse of twenty sestertii offered to the winner; and dancing girls from far arabia were posing to the plaintive wail of reeds and the thin tinkle of cymbals. but of all this the rear courts knew nothing. here was only hurrying to and fro of jaded slaves laden with amphoræ of wine and oil and honey; the smell of roasting meats, the clash of pots and kettles. here, behind the scenes, were the ropes and pulleys which set the stage that the actors might strut through their lordly parts; here was no relaxation and luxurious ease, but labor stern and unremitting, since always pleasure must be paid for by toil. but wardo, on his special mission, was exempt from menial tasks. he descended the steps, from level to level, in a stone-bound stillness, the nails in his sandals striking at times faint sparks of light from the uneven flagging he trod. near the door of nicanor's cell he paused. his light, flung upon rough-hewn walls, showed down three steps the grated doors of the wine-cellars. away to his right, down a narrow pitch-black tunnel, were the walls of the hypocausts behind which fires roared and ravened. through these tunnels, in summer, the furnaces were approached to be repaired and cleaned. "if the light fall upon him too suddenly, it may blind him," said wardo. "and perhaps he sleeps. i will go softly and make sure." he thrust his torch into an iron socket in the wall, and went to the door of nicanor's prison hole. here he felt with stealthy hands for the small wicket, to be shut or opened only from the outside, built in every cell-door that a warder might hear or see what his prisoner did within. this he pushed back an inch, carefully, without noise, and bent his ear to the opening. so he heard a voice issuing out of the eternal darkness within; a voice steady and resonant, and sustained as though it had been speaking for some time. out of the darkness it reached his ears as a thing disembodied, seeming scarcely of the earth or of human lips. in it was a thrill born of the pure joy of creation; prisoned, it yet was free with a freedom whose limits were the limits of earth and sky and thought, unchained, recking not of dripping walls nor aching darkness, for these things were nothing. "out of the east three kings came riding, on padded camels with harness of gold. one was lord of the kingdom of life, and one of the kingdom of love, and one of the kingdom of death, and each one had said: 'behold me! i am supreme.' but they heard that there lived one mightier than they; and first they scoffed, and next they marvelled, and then they came to see. people ran to watch them as they passed upon their journey, and called them great and mighty; and to himself each said: 'they speak of me.' each wore about his neck a torques of gold; and in the first was set a diamond, and in the second was set a ruby, hot as passion, and in the third was set a pearl. slaves walked behind them, bearing hampers filled with gifts for that one who was mightier than they; forty and four were the slaves that walked behind them, and the hampers were covered with cloth of gold. "so came they to their journey's end at nightfall, when the weary earth was sinking into rest; and they looked about them for a palace more splendid than their own, fitting for that one who was mightier than they. but there were only the houses of the town, and stables. they asked of strangers where such a palace might be, and none could tell them. then asked they if a very great and mighty king had been there, and folk shook their heads and answered nay. there were many strangers, and all the inns were full, but there was no mighty king that they had seen. one said: 'it may be that he goeth in disguise,' and the others answered: 'that may be so.' so they alighted and went into an inn; and across the courtyard of the inn, in the stalls under the house where cattle stood, they saw a group of people, three or four. "and in the centre of the group a bearded man was kneeling, and beside him, upon clean straw, lay a woman and her child. the kings stood within the stable, and their greatness was as a glory of light upon the place. chains of gold they wore upon their necks, and rings upon their hands, and the crowns upon their heads were bright with jewels. they looked at the woman that lay upon the straw against her man's knees; and she was fair and young and tender, and her eyes were full of joy and pain. and one whispered to them: 'behold, but now she hath brought a man-child into the world, here in this place, among sweet-breathing oxen and lowing kine.' so they looked upon the child that lay on his mother's arm." the voice stopped short, and silence reeled down upon the world once more. before wardo could move or speak it came again, changed this time and strained, all the thrill gone out of it and only weariness left, the voice of one again in chains. "eh, thou little christus, thou hast been brother and comrade both to me in this my loneliness! but now am i indeed fast stuck in a quagmire of uncertainty. wherein did lie thy power? this i must know or ever the tale can end. i have the kings, their might and majesty, their robes, and the gifts they bring. i have thy mother, young and fair and tender, with holy eyes. i have her man, who was not sire to thee, his care for her, his human doubt and questionings. i have the servants of the inn, the shepherds.--thou great bully rag, thou hast stood model more often than thou knowest!--i have the cattle dozing in the stalls, the tumult and the shouting of the inn. all this i can paint so that it shall stand forth quick with life; for give me a word, a thought, an action, and i can find the tale in it. but on my life i cannot find why men should worship thee, thou little helpless child. and until i can, i have no motive for my tale; a thing eludes me which i cannot catch. what power didst hold over men that they should bow to thee? wherein did lie thy strength? for men will worship only that which is stronger than they--and how wert thou stronger? was it through fear?--who would fear a babe?--a child, little and ugly and very red, as i have seen babes in the arms of slave-women in the mart at londinium, with a crumpled mouth wet with his mother's milk--in the name of the high gods, what should men see in such a thing to worship? thus ever do i question, and until i find my answer the tale is not complete." there was a restless movement in the dark, a soft shuffle of sandalled feet pacing up and down, endlessly up and down. the voice dropped to a broken mutter in which but a word now and then was to be caught. "oh, for a ray of sun or moon to tell if it be day or night! the darkness beats upon mine eyelids like a thousand hammers, until my brain is sick and reeling.... hath one ever made of this a tale before me, i wonder? the girl did not say. where is she now, that black-haired love of hito's? is she caught and brought back like a rabbit to the kennels of the hounds? that is quite likely, and will be no fault of mine." again the voice stopped, and with it the pacing footsteps. "thou here, momus?" nicanor said suddenly. "so then; it must be time for food. thou canst tell that, graybeard; if thou couldst tell whether day or night time, i'd carve an ivory figure of thee and hold all thy kind in honor. maybe they will forget us again, as they have forgot us before. if so, soon i must eat thee, friend, and this will grieve me, less for thy sake than for mine own." "who hath he here?" wardo muttered in perplexity. he placed his lips to the slit and spoke aloud. "nicanor!" instant silence fell, while one might have counted ten. then nicanor's voice, keen and quiet, said: "who calls?" "i, wardo," answered wardo, feeling for his eight-inch-long key. "i will get my light and enter, for i have news for thee." he got his torch, unlocked the door, and entered, locking it behind him, for his orders were strict. the light fell upon nicanor, sitting on the floor, back against the wall, hands clasping his knees, and glistened in his eyes, untamed beneath their shaggy thatch of brow. he was leaner than ever, and his face was gaunt. he blinked uncertainly at the flare and turned his head from it. "i begged hito that he let me be the one to bring thy food," said wardo, and spoke as one in self-excuse. "but not until to-day could i win him to it. now i have come to tell thee--" he hesitated; started again with a rush of words. "thou art sentenced to the mines, with certain others, and i am ordered to convey thee thither." "so?" said nicanor. "it seems to hold scant interest for thee!" said wardo curiously, half piqued. "at this moment, little man, bread and a bone hold more of interest for me than all the mines in britain," said nicanor, with a laugh. "give me these, and i'll show thee how much i have of interest." wardo found himself falling into the half ironic raillery of his prisoner's mood. "there should be plenty of both when this night's feasting is over. i'll see thou hast thy share--" "what feasting? is it night?" nicanor asked. "true; i forgot thou couldst not know," said wardo. "to-night is held the betrothal feast of our lady and the lord marius." the careless figure on the floor stiffened, as it seemed, into stone as it sat. nicanor turned his head, slowly, and looked up at his gaoler. the movement had in it something of the stealthiness of an animal crouching to spring. "betrothed--to-night?" he muttered. the hands about his knees tightened until their muscles strained under the brown skin; but the light was bad, and wardo's eyes were not over keen to see what he was not looking for. "why, yes," said wardo. "it is held in the hall of columns. by this time, without doubt, the kiss is given and taken, the pledge is passed, and our little lady by rights is in another's keeping. it wants only the marriage three days hence." nicanor rose lithely to his feet, pressing back his mane of hair with both hands. "wardo, we two have been friends, have we not, ever since we put each the other to sleep with blows over the baker's black-eyed daughter?" wardo looked at him. "ay, that is so," he said sincerely. "then i shall ask of thee a thing which will put all thy friendship to the test," said nicanor. his voice was rapid and tense, and wardo began to look at him in surprise. "let me go free and unhindered from here for two hours. i give my word that when that time is over i will be at any place thou shalt name, to go with thee willingly thy prisoner. if aught untoward befall, no blame shall come to thee. it will be easily done; the stewards are busy, and i shall have care not to be seen." "but--body of me!--this is impossible!" wardo cried, confounded. "i am friend to thee, but i am my lord's gaoler, for the time, and it would betray my lord for me to do this. wherefore dost desire it? what will it avail thee--freedom for two hours?" "it will avail me much," nicanor answered. "have i ever broken faith with thee or any man?" "nay," said wardo. "thou wilt steal, as i have known, but thou wilt not lie, and i would have thy word as soon as another's bond. sure never was there such a strange fellow--" "then believe that i will not break faith now. how may our lord be the worse for it? thou hast ever been friend to me, man; we have drunk together and feasted together and starved together; we have fought together and clasped hands together. dost remember a day of freedom we two spent together, in the wine-shop to which i took thee, on the island in the fords, when we and the five drunken gladiators fought until the watch fell upon us, and how we escaped, both battered and bloody, and left the gladiators in their hands?" wardo grinned regretfully. "eh, that was a great day! i have the scars yet. we have seen good days together, thou and i." "and they are gone over now, and done with. here we part, i to the mines, thou to the arms of thy fat hito, i wish thee joy of him! comrade, dost remember that when we say farewell here it will not be for to-day, nor to-morrow, but for all long time to come? i to the mines, and who enters there comes not forth again." wardo clenched his fists. "i know--i know! i'd give a finger if it had not to be!" he stood a moment, his flaxen head bent, lost in troubled thought. quite suddenly he turned upon nicanor, who, lynx-eyed, watched. "see then; i owe fealty to my lord, but thou art my friend, and this thing i cannot do. we have starved together and fought together, thou and i! the gods judge me, but thou art my friend! i have money--not much, but more than nothing. take thou it--i'll leave the way open--and escape. or, if thou wilt, overpower me on the road to gobannium--there'll be but two men with me, and i'll see to them. save thyself, and leave the rest to me." nicanor laid his left hand on wardo's shoulder. their eyes were on a level; tall men they were, both, one dark, lean, steel-muscled as a great cat; the other fair, more fully fleshed, massive in bulk as a tawny bull. "leave thee to face double punishment, mine as a runaway slave, and thine as his abettor?" said nicanor, and laughed softly. "nay, thou art _my_ friend, and the gods judge me if i put thee in this plight. i did not know i had such a friend in the world. many things have i learned in this time of darkness, and this have i also found." wardo hung his head, without speech. he thrust out his hand abruptly, and nicanor's hand closed over it. they stood a moment, in a silence which needed no words from either. "by the soul of my mother, i shall do it!" wardo said then, huskily. "by the soul of my mother, thou shalt not!" said nicanor. "when i escape, it shall be when thou canst not be brought to task for it. but if thou wouldst prove true friend, leave the way open for two hours. more will not help me now." "so be it," said wardo. "here is the key. when we go, let us lock the door behind us. return here, then, and await me within. but, nicanor, if thou art not here, i shall make no search." "i shall be here," said nicanor, briefly. wardo took his torch; they left the cell. nicanor locked the door, thrust the key into his belt, and without a word started up the passage into the darkness. two hours speed swiftly when they hold life and death and all that lies between. vi nicanor gained the passage behind the storerooms, at the head of which the cresset flared, and reached the court, meeting no one. the cool air flooded him, and he raised his head and breathed it deeply. for eight long months his lips had panted for it. as he had foreseen, the court was deserted; all the household slaves were busy in this way and that about the feast. he cast a calculating glance upward at the crescent moon, struggling through banking clouds. "till she touches the top of the stunted lime," he muttered, and crossed the court with his long noiseless stride. a distant strain of music wandered out across the night; and at all it whispered of that which was not for him he set his teeth with a smothered groan. past silent courts he went, avoiding the teeming kitchens, and through narrow passages and empty rooms. a slave boy with a trayful of broken meats passed him where he hung concealed in the deep shadow of one court. he made a motion forward, his hungry eyes gleaming; drew back in silence and let the boy pass on. it was many hours since he had tasted food, but he dared not risk betrayal. so he gained a certain small doorway in one of the lesser courts, a deep recess, merely, in the wall, which led to no room. just inside it steep steps showed in the moonlight, leading upward. nicanor listened a moment to make certain that all was still, and, as one sure of himself and what he meant to do, ran up them,--past where a landing opened on the stairs, with glimpses of a pillared gallery beyond; and still up, until the flight ended in a long and bare passage. here it was very dark, with only the moonlight coming through narrow windows of thick and muddy glass. nicanor looked about him as one who would know if all was as he had left it last. a ladder lay upon the floor beneath the square of an opening in the roof. this he leaned against the wall, mounted it, and slid back the hatch, which ran in wooden grooves. the ladder creaked beneath him as he swung his long body forward and gripped the edges of the opening. until he had made sure of his hold he did not leave the ladder; then swung clear, shifting his hands one by one into better position, and raised himself slowly, by sheer practised strength of wrist and arm, until his head and shoulders rose above the opening. with quick effort, then, he flung himself forward upon the roof, writhed himself through, and stood erect. around him were the roofs of the separate apartments of the villa, silvered gray where moonlight touched them. flat and sloping and towered were these, and broken by the intervals of the courts, where was massed the heavy blackness of foliage. the night air swept cool around him; above him was the high vault of heaven, cloudless now, where a young moon rode in the loneliness of space. to his left as he stood was the squat dome of the hall of columns, with light showing through the series of narrow windows which encircled it. and these windows were barely four feet above the level of the roof from which the dome sprang. nicanor started across the tiles, black against the moonlight, clawing his way along steep and treacherous slopes and gliding along the leads, sure-footed as a cat, toward the nearest window in the dome which would look down into the hall below. this he gained in safety, and found that it had been left half open, for ventilation. he leaned over the ledge, gazing downward; and a ripple of music from hidden players rose to him above a humming undercurrent of sound. below him, the great hall was a riot of color. on its hundred columns of polished marble, veined in green and rose, light played in sliding gleams from great lamps of wrought bronze hung by chains around the dome and between the pillars, each with many lights floating in cups of perfumed oil. the floors, of white marble, were overlaid with silken rugs of glowing colors, with silver matting and with tawny skins of beasts. the walls were wide panels of mosaics set in stucco, vivid with red and blue, green and azure, picturing scenes of hunting and carousal. perfumes burned in silver jars set on pedestals of black marble at intervals along the walls, sending forth faint spirals of smoke on the heated air. the long table, lined on either side with men and women, was directly beneath the dome. looking down upon it nicanor saw only a confusion of gold and silver dishes, with the ruby glow of samian plates and cups, gleaming among strewn leaves and blossoms. the garments of the guests were as a fringe of color about the table's edge; purple, saffron, and gold, crimson, green, and white. at the head of the board, raised somewhat above the other seats, three figures had risen,--one, in the centre, tall, spare, stooping somewhat, in spite of his brave attire; at his left, another as tall as he, but broader, more compactly built, with the square shoulders of a military man, richly dressed also in a scarlet tunic embroidered in gold, with heavy bands of gold about his arms. and at the right of the central figure, the third, young and slender and all in white, with a head-dress of gold in which two poppies flamed upon either temple, and from which long jewelled ends hung to her knees. a veil fell behind her, over her dark hair, of persian gauze, filmy as mist, in which threads of gold like prisoned sunbeams were woven. her face, upheld proudly as though she scorned to give way before the eyes upon her, was white, but her lips were scarlet as the flowers she wore. a jewelled girdle fell about her hips, but on her bare arms were neither gems nor gold. the central figure was speaking, but his words could not be heard. he took the girl's hand, and laid it in the man's hand, and held them so; and the tones of the man's voice repeating after him rose to nicanor's eyrie, although the words were lost. there followed a pause, in which the girl drooped her head, but all faces were turned toward her, and nicanor knew that her lips were whispering the solemn "where thou art, caius, there am i, caia"; and he clenched his teeth, and for a moment the scene below him swam in blood-red mist. she was lost to him,--always he had known it, known the hopelessness of his passion, all the sweeter for the bitterness which was in it,--but never until then had the knowledge so come home to him. he would have liked to force his way in among them, these smirking, soft patricians, and tear her away from them by right of his savage strength; in his hot eyes was murder, and in his heart raging hate and a love as raging. he could have killed her, even; if she might not be his, he would have her no man's. his hand shot out as though in fact the knife were in it; in fancy he saw himself driving it home straight and true above the heart whose throbbing he had watched--the heart that had throbbed for him only, the slave, out of all the world of men. he could feel his dagger bite through her white breast as he had felt the soft slice of flesh under his blade before; he could see the blood well up around the knife, slowly at first, with a quick, hot spurt when the steel was withdrawn. so she would remain all his, and none might take her from him. his thoughts maddened him. he groaned aloud and dropped his face in his hands on the stone ledge of the window, and the moonlight touched him, a strange figure of desperate longings, desperate bewilderment and rebellion and pain. he shook to the primal passions of love and hate that tore him,--love for one, hate for all that had gone to make the conditions of his life what they must be; according to the measure of his untamed strength he suffered, in fierce revolt against the mocking fates who were stronger than he. a clapping of hands, sharp and crackling, roused him. he brushed the hair from his eyes, and again looked down upon them, so far below, so far above him. the central figure had withdrawn, but the betrothed couple, hand clasped in hand, still stood together. the table was in commotion; women pelted the two with flowers, and men were on their feet and shouting. nicanor saw marius bend his head and kiss varia upon the lips. so was their covenant sealed before the law; in sight of all the world her lord had claimed her, and she was no longer all her own. high in his eyrie nicanor laughed, with a flash of his old lawless triumph. "thy lips are not the first on hers, sir bridegroom! her head hath lain on another breast than thine; other arms than thine have held her, o my lord! what if this also were to be known? where then would be thy triumph?" he raised his clenched hands fiercely, sending forth his empty challenge to the heedless stars. "thy wife is not all thine, my lord! her body thou mayst purchase and possess, but her soul is mine, mine, mine, for all time and all eternity! i, who waked it from its empty sleep--i, who taught it first to live and love--i am her soul's lord even as thou art her body's master--i, the slave!" his voice stopped on the words, changed, and grew strained with infinite love and longing, all its fierce triumph gone. "eh, thou very sweet, we dreamed awhile, and the dream was sweeter than ever was dream before, and it is over! the wound in thy child's heart will heal, for thy love is a child's love, and when it may grow no more will fade and die. yet it may be that it shall be never quite forgotten; that in after days a word, a song, the fragrance of a flower, will bring to thee dim memories of what is gone. but my love must last, to burn and sear since it may not bless me, for it is not a child's love, beloved! we had no right to happiness, thou and i. but wherefore not? and who decreed it so? i may not have one last look from thee, one touch of thy tender hands,--o little hands that have clung to mine!--and all my heart is a tomb where my love lies buried. long months have i lain in darkness, but in my heart was light, for i dreamed of the time when i should come to thee. now all is dark, and my strength hath gone from me; i am a child that cries for a stronger hand to lean on and can find none. the dreams which i had are gone from me, and my tongue is lead. in all the earth is none so lonely as am i!" again he buried his face in his hands, crouching against the wall beneath the window. the music rose to him like a breath from that scarcely vanished past, playing upon him,--calloused body and sensitive tortured soul,--conjuring forth visions of dead golden hours, weaving its own poignant spell. voices from the hall mingled with it, in talk and heedless laughter; healths were drunk and speeches made. when life was gay and careless, when wine was red and eyes were bright and faces fair, who would pause to give a thought to sorrow? minutes dropped away, link by link, from the golden chain of time. all at once nicanor raised his head, slowly, like one unwilling to meet once more what must be met. the loneliness of the moonlight revealed the scarring passion in his face, signs visible of the chaos of inward tumult which tore him, of the slow forces gathering for the inevitable battle waged somewhen, somehow, by every mortal soul. and that face, gaunt, with haunted, shadowed eyes, looked all at once strangely purged of the heat of its lawlessness, for on it was the first presage of the fierce slow travail of spirit rending flesh. "what is this that i have done!" he said unsteadily. "i have boasted unworthily, ravening like a brute beast in my triumph over thee, and by my boasting have i shamed thee, thou lily among women. was i blind, that i could not see that thine is the triumph, over my passion and over me? thou art another's, o my lady whom i love so well; and every thought i hold of thy caresses doeth thee dishonor. for thou art pure and holy, and though it puts all worlds between us, yet i would not have thee otherhow. yet i cannot but remember thy voice, thine eyes, thy little clinging hands, the perfume of thy hair; they are all that is left to me--dear memories, bitter sweet! but i may not boast of them, for thy fair fame, which thou first didst teach me to honor, is thus much in my hands, and i, even the outcast and despised, have it still to guard thee in this little thing. once was i filled with base pride for that i had made thee love me in answer to my love; and oh, a blind, blind fool was i, not knowing that my love for thee was then no love at all! but thou, in thy white innocence, didst place thine hands upon mine eyes, and the scales fell from them, and i saw thee and myself, and was humbled. now never while i live shall thy dear name pass my lips, lest through me one breath of evil blow upon thee. i cannot die for thee, beloved, since that were a fate too easy for the sport of thy high gods; i may not even live for thee. this is all that i can do! this is what we have done, each for the other: thy soul i wakened; thou in turn didst give to me a soul within my soul, wakening it to what it never knew before,--new dreams, new ambitions, new desires. for i saw through thee the great world which is thy world, wherein lieth all for which men long and strive. one glimpse i had; and now the gates are closed, and the light is gone, and i am thrust back into outer darkness. and it all is finished!" a peal of laughter rose to him; a burst of music; a half-hundred voices shouting _vivas_ to marius and his bride. he looked down once more into the light and color of the great hall, seeing one there, only, out of all the brilliant throng,--one fair and drooping, with scarlet poppies framing her white face. long and long he looked, as though he would burn her image upon his heart and mind forever, his lady whom he had lost and who was never his. so he turned away, back into the outer darkness, and crossed the roofs again, and the blackness of the manhole swallowed him. * * * * * wardo, cloaked and spurred and ready for the start, opened the cell door and thrust his torch within. the light fell upon a bowed figure sitting on the floor, motionless, with face hidden in its folded arms, and nothing showing save a crown of rough black hair. "thou here?" said wardo. "well, i am sorry." nicanor looked up. his face, white with more than its prison pallor, was drawn as though by bodily pain. "ay," he said dully, "i am here." "i would thou wert not," wardo muttered. "come, then." "i have a friend here, whom i would take with me," nicanor said, without rising. "stand still, and i will call him." he whistled softly through his teeth, a gentle hissing, until a shadow seemed to stir from the far corner of the cell where the torchlight did not fall. forth into the light hobbled a great gray rat, gaunt, and scarred, and lame. at sight of wardo it whisked back into the gloom; again nicanor whistled; again it appeared, and again vanished. a third time, emboldened, it essayed, and came to nicanor warily, dazed in the unwonted light. nicanor threw a bit of cloth torn from his tunic over its head, fastening it so that the beast could neither bite nor see, tied its forelegs together, and without more ado thrust it inside his tunic. wardo gaped. "well, of all playmates! will he not scratch thee?" "not while the cloth is about his head," nicanor answered. there came an odd note of pride into his voice. "momus and i are old friends. i maimed him; he hath bitten me. now we understand each other. i have taught him to fight,--he is quite as intelligent as hito,--and there is not a rat in the dungeons that can beat him. man, you should see him fight!" "i'd like to!" quoth wardo, promptly. "maybe, at cunetio or corinium we shall find some trainer to try a main with thee. now come; we have tarried long enough." in the slaves' court hito was fuming over the departure of his deputy and the half dozen prisoners. as wardo and nicanor approached he leered upon them balefully. "so, white-face!" he taunted. "art recovered from thy madness?" "ha, fair julia, how art thou?" nicanor greeted him imperturbably, so that hito cursed him. for word of hito's dance had spread, and even his lords had laughed at him. "oh, ay, i remember!" he snarled. "this is to teach thee not to call thy betters names. were it not for thy insubordination, i should have cancelled thy sentence to the mines. it is not well to laugh at hito! i have a doubt in my mind that thou wert not so mad as it seemed." "i have no doubt in mine that i was not so mad as thou," said nicanor, with all cheerfulness. hito glared, and wardo mounted and made haste to get his party under way. his assistant snapped the chains on nicanor's wrists which bound him to his fellows, and got on his own horse. they went out through the gate, opened by a sleepy porter, and took the road. all through that night they plodded steadily. once a horseman overtook them, riding furiously; shouted something which none could catch, and was gone in darkness. their road led them over the downs and through the heather by the little station of bibracte to calleva, where four roads joined; and on through the level and open country around corinium, where, to south and west, among shaded groves, they caught glimpses of palaces and stately homes. so, in time, they came to the scarred hills of the great iron district of the west. at each station where they stopped for rest and refreshment on their three days' journey, wardo was taken aside by strangers, who talked earnestly. "the state of the country," he told his men, with his tongue in his cheek. most of these strangers were fair-skinned saxons, like himself; indeed, the number of these was significant. wardo, coming from the south, had to tell what he knew of recent happenings there. this was not much; his interlocutors, it would seem, knew more than he. especially did they inquire to whom he belonged, and what he was doing with his charges. they crossed the sabrina in a flat-bottomed barge, and were in britannia secunda, the ancient country of the silures. here, from uriconium to glevum on the sabrina, and south to leucarum on the via julia, were scattered the iron mines from which their owners drew inexhaustible wealth. the one controlled by eudemius lay five roman miles west of the river, and was reckoned one of the largest and richest in the section. in it were said to be employed over five hundred men, mostly prisoners from the various estates of eudemius, and overseers. vii the gallery, pitch-black and narrow, was dotted with moving lights which wandered here and there, each a restless will-o'-the-wisp. it was very damp, and from somewhere came a monotonous drip of water. the tapping of picks sounded incessantly out of the darkness, and occasionally there were hoarse voices raised in wanton curses or harsh commands. shores of heavy timbers supported the sides and roof of the tunnel, looming grotesquely gigantic as some passing light touched them; this was the newest of the workings, and so far the richest. a light and a clanking of chains drew near down the tunnel; and eight men, chained like mules, and loaded with baskets of ore, came painfully over the uneven ground to the chamber of the main shaft, where a second gang waited to unload them. each party was in charge of its own overseer, who carried a whip and went armed to the teeth. it was easier to use men than to lower animals into the galleries for the work; besides, the superintendent wished to save his horses. the shaft, through which men ascended and descended by means of long series of ladders, opened out into a chamber, roughly circular in shape, from which the galleries branched off in all directions. it ran through four different levels, the top one, and the oldest, something over fifteen feet underground, the lowest not quite seventy. on each level the ore was handled in the same way; brought to the central shaft in baskets by men, and carried to the surface by other men who spent their lives toiling up and down the endless ladders, with baskets strapped upon their backs. it was primitive work, and barbarous, but it at least served the purpose of getting rid, in short order, of insubordinate slaves. earth from the tunnellings was treated in like fashion; and every timber used for building up the walls was lowered from level to level by ropes. accidents were many and appalling. sometimes a huge stick slipped from its lashings and crashed downward into the bowels of the earth, knocking men off the ladders in its course as though they had been flies. sometimes a ladder gave way, hurling screaming wretches into eternity; sometimes men were buried in sudden falls of earth. also the ladder men, who necessarily went unchained, died like rats from heart trouble brought on by their constant climbing; and others were to be driven into their places. the overseer of the second gang watched the loading of the baskets strapped to his men's backs, noted the time on his clepsydra, which stood on a near-by ledge, and started the men one by one, in quick succession. he knew to a fraction of time how long the trip to the surface should take, but to make assurance more sure, each carrier, on his return, brought a check stamped with the exact minute of arrival by the overseer who had received the ore above. if this check showed that more time had been consumed than was necessary for the ascent and descent, there was punishment swift and sure for that luckless one who had lingered. the chained slaves, with their empty baskets, filed off again into the gallery from which they had come. the shaft chamber, the centre of its floor pierced by the black hole leading down to the next and lowest level, was lighted dimly by lamps and candles standing upon shelves which jutted from the earthen walls. from all the galleries radiating from it, files of men, staggering under weighted baskets, kept coming to be relieved of their loads by their unchained fellow-workers. every moment a man started up the ladder, clawing his way at top speed out of sight in the darkness of the shaft, like a grotesque, huge monkey. no lashing, no punishment, could get more than four such round trips out of a man without a period of rest equal to at least two trips. when it came to this point, he would merely lose his hold from sheer exhaustion and fall from the ladder. and when picked up by the crew at the bottom of the shaft, he was fit for nothing but to be thrown like carrion into the nearest unused pit, walled in with a half-dozen shovelfuls of earth, and left at last to rest. the overseer by the shaft glanced at his water-clock, raised a reed to his lips, and blew a shrill whistle. from level to level and from gallery to gallery this was taken up and repeated in fainter cadences, and with it the insistent tapping of the picks ceased. one by one men began to hurry forth from the galleries, making for the ladders which led to the world of air and sunlight. nicanor came from one of the branching tunnels, a pick over his shoulder, stripped to the waist and grimed with sweat and dirt, his lean chest and arms thrown out against the murky candle-light. he was all bone and skin and muscle, hard as nails; but it was the dead, springless hardness which comes to an athlete badly overtrained, not the resilient firmness which denotes good condition. he laid his pick on the ground near the entrance of the tunnel and went to the ladder. even his tread had lost something of its cat-like lightness; he walked wearily, his shoulders bowed. he gave his number to the overseer, who barely waited to record it in his tablet, with the time he had stopped work, before starting up the ladder for his half-hour's intermission. nicanor, suddenly alert, ran back into the tunnel, reappeared with a bag, which he held carefully, and started up the ladder also. but at the next level, thirty feet above, he stopped, instead of keeping on to the surface. in the shaft-chamber here were a dozen and odd men gathered, but there seemed to be no overseer among them. a ring had formed about a space on the floor under one of the lamps; men craned over the shoulders of those in front of them. one saw nicanor and shouted at him. "well come, friend! we wait for you and that pretty pet of yours!" he was a short man who spoke, with arms immensely long and hairy, and a seamed face of a shortness out of all proportion to its width, as though crown of head and chin had been pressed together in a vise. of the others, all were more or less as black as ethiopians with grime; many were shaven and mutilated, with lips slit or an ear gone. some were branded; and the backs of many were scored with the marks of floggings, some long healed, others red and raw. no fouler-mouthed crew of desperadoes might be found within the island; doomed here for many offences, they still committed the offence of living. nicanor was greeted with a chorus of jests and exclamations. "hurry, son, our time is not so long as thy legs." "where's thy plaything? balbus here is ready with his toy to make ribbons of that ugly beast of thine." "let us see now whose boasts will stand repeating." "i have two asses on thee, balbus!" one cried, and jingled two copper coins in his horny palms. coins were produced from rags by those lucky enough to own them; others wagered their picks or spades. one bet his sandals on nicanor's chances against a man who was willing to lose his shirt. nicanor pushed his way into the ring, where balbus, grasping a large black rat, knelt on one knee, ready to loose the strip of cloth that bound its muzzle. nicanor shook his gray rat out of the bag, and untied it. men had found such contests cheap as well as exciting, since rats were over plentiful, and when pitted against their own kind would fight to the death. this form of amusement was widespread among soldiers and the lower classes; and there were men who made a business of training rats and selling them or matching them against all comers. these beasts were carefully bred from approved fighting stock, and often brought sums preposterously large. balbus let go his black with a yell as nicanor released the gray, and the two beasts leaped at each other and closed in the middle of the ring, rolling over. men clawed over one another's shoulders to see better; at opposite sides of the ring the owners squatted, each urging on his animal with hisses and clapping hands. the light from the smoking lamps and candles fell upon the crowd, throwing into relief brutal faces, and eyes gleaming wolfishly, savagely eager for blood. "the black is on top, the black wins!" one cried, hot-eyed with excitement, and leaned further and still further into the ring. another pulled him back. "nay, fool--the gray--look at him, holy gods! my money on the gray! see, the black bleeds--the gray hath bit him in the throat. macte! at him again, graybeard! lad, a brand-new knife is thine if thou'lt win for me those sandals of chilo's! ah--habet!" the ring tossed with excitement. bets were roared from brazen throats; those on the outskirts of the crowd fought to get a look. and in the open centre of the tumult a furry ball rolled and bit and squealed and made bloody sport for those who gloated over it. a yell, half exultation, half anger, broke from a dozen throats. the black rat tore himself loose and fled back toward balbus; the gray stood in the middle of the ring, triumphant. both were badly mangled and drenched with blood, but the black was craven. the followers of the gray roared their triumph. balbus seized his rat and flung him back into the fight, almost on top of the gray, which instantly fastened on him. but, plainly, the black had had enough. it could be seen that he no longer attacked; was all on the defensive, trying only to escape. again he broke away and crawled toward safety. the ring howled with mingled derision and delight. balbus, cursing, his face congested with rage, again threw him back, and again the vicious gray fell upon him with teeth and claws. "give thy sandals quickly, chilo!" a voice shouted above the racket. "the black is down!" he was, and the gray on top of him, bloodily victorious. "_peractum est!_" nicanor shouted, in the language of the arena; and sprang to his feet and caught up his bloody pet and held him high in triumph. but balbus, his face aflame with fury, strode to where the black rat lay still twitching, and stamped the heel of his iron-shod sandal upon its head with such force that its brains and blood were spattered. "it was no fair fight!" he cried, turning on those who jeered him. "that gray beast wrought by magic. thou hast played a trick!" he shook his fist in nicanor's face, glaring. nicanor backed away with a laugh. it taunted balbus beyond endurance; he lunged forward, his fists clenched. in an instant there had been battle, on which men would have bet as eagerly as on the combat ended. but there was a sudden clamor of guards' whistles; a rush from the ladders, and overseers fell upon the crowd with hissing lashes that left their marks on backs and thighs. the ring broke up, as men fled like sheep and were whipped back to their posts. soon there was nothing heard but the endless tapping of picks, the thud of falling earth, and the voices of overseers and the foremen of the gangs. but balbus, each time he passed with laden basket the spot where nicanor stood tirelessly wielding his heavy pick, scowled at him blackly and muttered oaths of vengeance. for he was of those who must be taught, by many ungentle lessons, that one must know how to lose as well as how to win. ----------------------------------------------------------------------the night and the dawning book v ----------------------------------------------------------------------book v the night and the dawning i when wardo had delivered his charges to the superintendent of the mine and received a receipt for them from him, he started back, with his assistants, on his homeward journey. but at bibracte, where they would leave the main road and turn due south toward the villa, ten roman miles away, he bade his men wait for him at the station until his return. instead of striking across country for the villa, he kept along the main road, riding swiftly and steadily, as one who pursues a definite plan. he crossed the tamesis at pontes, after a night's rest, and at evening of the next day rode through the marsh-ford at thorney. here he met with one who also was on horseback, splashed to the waist with mud, for even the high-roads were heavy with the springtime thawing out of the frost. he was muffled in a cloak, and his spurs were bloodstained. he hailed wardo in latin tinged strongly with a foreign accent. "can you tell me, friend, if there be an inn in this place where soft beds and good food may be found?" wardo was moved to curiosity. "for yourself?" he asked, spurring up to the stranger's side. "nay, for my lord and his wife and daughter. i am sent ahead to find lodging for them. they are on the road to rutupiæ, to take ship for gaul, and travel by way of londinium, where my lord hath affairs to settle; but the women have given out and vow that they will go no farther. so do the chickens break for cover when the hawk swoops." his voice was slightly contemptuous. he turned his face, covered with a wiry red beard, upon wardo. his eyes, small and light, glinted from a network of wrinkles under reddish brows. "you are no roman," he said abruptly. "why, no," said wardo, somewhat surprised, "i am saxon." "like myself," said the stranger, grandly. "men call me wulf, the son of wulf." "there is an inn here," said wardo, without returning information. "i will show you, if you like. it is kept by christians, and it is clean." "then it will be poor," wulf grumbled, "and the wine will not be fit for decent men." "there you are wrong," said wardo. "it is where my lord eudemius stops with his train when he passeth through here." "so!" wulf's glance held awakening curiosity. "the lord eudemius of the white villa south of bibracte?" "that same," said wardo, with the pride of a servant in a well-known master. "one hears tales of that house these days," said wulf, casually. "see, friend, when i have made arrangement for my lords and brought them hither, is there not a place where we might find a mouthful of good saxon ale?" wardo hesitated. "i fear my time is too short," he answered. "even now i am late--" "for the maid who awaits thee?" said wulf, with a chuckle. "well, i'll not keep thee then. but this much i'll tell thee now. when my lord sails with his familia from rutupiæ, it will be without wulf, the son of wulf. i have it in mind to stay here longer; there will be fat pickings for saxons by and by, when these roman lords are crowded out. hast heard that?" "ay," said wardo. "i have heard it." "and it is in my mind also to try for some of these same fat pickings," said wulf, and laughed. "why not i, as well as any man?" "if you wait for these roman lords to be crowded out, as you have it," said wardo, "it will be some time before these fat pickings fall to your lot." "perhaps not so long time as one might think," wulf retorted. "hast heard of what happened at anderida?" "oh, ay," said wardo. "the lord governor of anderida fled to the house of my lord." wulf's glance became all at once as keen as a gaze-hound which sights its prey. "had he his son, called felix, with him, a cat-eyed rascal, who was wounded?" "yes," said wardo, quite proud to tell his news. "and on the evening of the feast the lord governor and his men rode away again. but he left his son behind him." a gleam shot into wulf's light eyes. "so?" he said pleasantly. "perhaps, then, this son felix is still a guest of your lord?" "ay, so he is," wardo returned. "which is to say that he was there when i rode away, and that is now six days ago." in his turn he shot a glance at the red-beard from his steely eyes. "now why should you ask these things, friend gossip? what concern is this son felix of yours?" "merely that all men like to know what is happening these days. what else? but know you how the man got his wound? nay, i thought not. perhaps you know that the leader of that band of saxons and those insurgent romans, called evor, was slain in that affair at anderida?" "no," said wardo. "i did not know that. who slew him?" "felix," answered wulf. wardo looked somewhat startled. "then this is why he remained behind!" he exclaimed. his face awoke to a new thought. "why, death of a dog! if this evor's men pass through the silva anderida and hear that this lord felix is at the villa, there may be trouble for my lord." "ay," said wulf. there was a certain grimness in his tone. "the son of evor hath sworn to have the blood of his father's slayer; therefore it is quite likely." "how come you to know these things?" wardo demanded. the stranger's manner was always casual to indifference, and wardo was not over keen to see what he was not looking for. his question came more from curiosity than from suspicion, although of this there was something also. "news travels fast these days," wulf said briefly. "i got it from a carter who saw something of the business. i hope you do not think that i was there? now where is this inn of yours? i must find it and hasten back to my lord." by now they had reached a cobbled street no wider than an alley, running at right angles to the main street, which led from ford to ford. down this they rode abreast, and there was room for no other horseman to pass them. bare-shouldered girls laughed down at them from upper windows; bent crones hobbled from door to door with baskets of fish or produce; children and dogs scampered from under their horses' feet. the evening sunshine fell in long slanting shadows down the dusty street, stabbing shafts of golden light into dark doorways. wardo saw wulf to the door of the "cleanest inn on thorney," watched him enter, and wheeled his horse. back again then he rode, with no more than a glance for the long-haired girls who leaned to him from windows, and with a recklessness which sent the dogs and children flying. he turned into the main street, back toward the marsh-ford, and galloped the length of it until he reached a house which stood the third from the end, next to a half-burnt ruin where cattle had been stalled, with a narrow door in a blank wall which betrayed nothing. before this he flung his horse back upon its haunches, leaped lightfoot to the ground, and hammered on the door. the wicket was opened a space and closed; then the door was opened. he entered, and it closed after him. two hours later wulf, the son of wulf, came down the street in the dim twilight, on foot, walking with a swagger. out of the saddle he was seen to be short and stunted, with legs badly bowed. his breath proclaimed loudly that he had stopped at sundry wine-shops on the way. he was passing unconcernedly, when a whinny from a horse standing before a door caught his ear, and he stopped. "light of my eyes, i've seen this beast before," he muttered, going closer to look. "why, sure, he's the horse of that long-legged yellow-head of mine. ay, here's the brand i noted on the shoulder. so--we shall see what we shall see." he knocked boldly upon the door. the wicket opened. "what will you?" a woman's voice asked from within. "a friend of mine entered here a little time ago," wulf began glibly. "many have entered here," said the voice. "who is your friend?" wulf's laugh covered a moment of embarrassment. "why, in truth, i do not care to name his name aloud," he said. "if you will let me in, i will see if he be still here." the door opened. wulf stepped inside, confronting a tall girl, full-throated, long-limbed, with face of purest grecian outline. wulf's single keen glance took in the girl, her attire, and the room behind her. his manner changed at once. "your friend may not be here," said the girl. wulf advanced. "in truth, i shall not miss him overmuch. might a weary man purchase food, and a drop of wine, and perhaps a lodging for the night?" he jingled coins in the pouch which hung at his leathern belt. the girl eyed him. "you know that you may," she said, very wearily, and crossed the room and opened a door into an inner chamber. here the air was heavy with the smell of food and the fumes of wine. there were many people in the room,--men and women; yet in the first glance he cast around wulf saw his long-legged yellow-head reclining at ease upon a couch, his arm around a slim golden beauty who sat beside him. in his free hand wardo clutched a brazen beaker, which the girl filled constantly from a fat-sided ampulla on her knee. from time to time she stroked back the fair hair on his temples, and each time he raised his half-drunken head to kiss her shapely arm. wulf nodded to one or two men in the room, his face betraying no surprise that he found them there. he bade the dark-haired greek girl bring wine and two cups. while she was gone a man and a woman slipped away through one of the several side doors, leaving vacant the place next to wardo. at once wulf possessed himself of it, without glancing at his neighbor. the greek returned, and he pulled her down beside him, had her drink with him, kissed her arms and hands with his red-bearded mouth, made love to her with jests and laughter unnecessarily loud. soon wardo's attention was caught. he sat upright, steadying himself on the girl's arm, and looked across at wulf. "not too drunk to talk, i hope!" wulf muttered. "holla, wulf, son of wulf!" wardo called, in a voice somewhat thickened by wine. "how didst find the way to chloris?" "who but knows the house of chloris?" said wulf, pleasantly. "i did not look to find thee here." "i? oh, i am always here. is it not so, sada? am i not always with thee, girl of my heart?" "ah, not always!" said the golden-haired girl. "not so often as i would have thee." "drink with us, thou and thy lady," wulf invited. the golden-haired girl leaned over. "nay, wardo, thou hast drunk enough. already the wine is in thy head," she murmured; and wulf, keen-eared, caught the words. but wardo was already holding out his beaker, which the greek filled at a sign from wulf. "nay, sweet, my head is iron," said wardo, half indulgent, half in scorn. "here i pledge thee, friend wulf, the son of wulf: 'a long life and a rousing one, a quick death and a merry one!'" he drank deeply. "that is the motto of my lord master," quoth wulf. "and light of my eyes, but he lives up to it! there is a man who spends gold as wine floweth through a _colum_." "ay, but promise you my lord spends faster!" said wardo, with great pride. "so?" said wulf. he gave the greek a sign to keep the wine-cups filled. "then must he indeed be wealthy. in truth, i have heard something of a feast he gives at his villa even now." "the marriage feast of our lady varia and the lord marius," said wardo. "men say that the gifts are of a richness beyond all counting," said wulf. "of course, being there, thou couldst see it all, and judge." "ay," said wardo. "i saw it all." with the wine, his tongue began to wag. his eyes sparkled; he drained his cup and set it down with a thump. "in that house is the ransom of an emperor, ay, of forty emperors!" he cried. "no lord in the island could gather such hoard of treasure, not even yours, wulf the son of wulf, and i shall fight you if you say so! no man hath seen such jewels, such vessels of gold and silver. there be a million golden cups set about with rubies; an hundred thousand vases of silver; and every woman hath a fan of gold, set with gems. and the jewels he hath loaded on our lady--man, thine eyes have never seen the like! she wears a girdle that blazes like that pharos at dubræ, which i have seen; she goes belted with flame that dazzles the eyes. on her arms are an hundred bracelets--" "of a truth, i do think the wine is in thine eyes, wardo mine," said wulf. his laugh was careless, but his eyes were keen. wardo flushed angrily. "not so!" he cried. "for these six months and more have not goods been coming to us from all the world?" he boasted vaingloriously. wulf nodded. "i have heard that that is so. there must indeed be great store of plunder--of wealth within thy master's house." "verily!" said wardo, somewhat appeased. he told all that he knew, and much that he did not know, fired with eagerness to impress upon this casual stranger the magnificence of the lord whom he served. from mere loquacity he became argumentative, finally quarrelsome. but sada wound white arms about his neck and soothed him. but by now the wine was reaching wulf's head also, although compared to wardo he was sober. "that house of thy lord's will be fat pickings for the men of evor when they come to claim the blood of felix for the blood which he hath shed. light of my eyes! it would be worth--" "what is this thou sayest?" wardo demanded. he strove to sit upright, but fell back against sada in drunken laxity. "speak louder, thou! there be a million bees that buzz within my head." wulf waved the women away. "leave us, pretty ones, awhile. is it the first time men have left your arms to discuss affairs?" eunice, the tall greek, went willingly, but sada clung to her lover and would not go. "nay, i'll not leave thee. speak as ye will--what is it to me? i have no call to remember." "see, friend, i like thee, and i see no reason why we should not be comrades, for the better gain of both," said wulf, with all frankness. "we be of one nation, as against these haughty roman lords who soon must yield to us the field. oh, but i long for a half-hundred kindred souls to take with me this chance! what chance, say you?--the chance of gain, of wealth and fortune past all dreams. why should they have all, these haughty lords, while we have nothing? why should not something of their wealth profit us?" wardo shook his muddled head solemnly over this problem old as the ages. "they have gained it," he muttered, with an air of profound wisdom. "they have gained it, quotha! ay, truly, but how? by rapine, taxation, wars, plunder! therefore why shall not others use like means? if it be fair for them, i say it is fair for us!" wulf brought down his fist upon the table with a blow that made the cups rattle. "therefore now is our chance, say i! all is confusion; the lords fight amongst themselves; we are slowly gaining the ground they lose--let us also gain wealth with it!" he discoursed at great length, repeating himself incessantly, losing himself in endless trains of argument which nobody contradicted. it was not very clear what he wanted, even to himself, it would seem. but he was quite convinced that existing conditions were altogether wrong and something should at once be done about it. what the something should be he did not take the trouble to state. wardo dozed peacefully, his head on sada's breast. no one in the room paid the least attention to them. wardo roused, in time, reaching out blindly for his cup, and caught a word of wulf's oration: "... gold for the taking. had i but a half hundred--" "gold! that is a good thing to have!" wardo muttered. he pulled sada's head down to him. "when i have gold, i shall buy thee from thy mistress. wilt go with me?" the girl's fair face flushed. "ay, thou knowest i will go," she answered. "wheresoever thou wilt take me." "if thou wouldst have gold, my friend, come with me, and it shall be thine in plenty," wulf cried eagerly. wardo looked at him with awakening interest. "how so?" "thus," said wulf. "we shall take for ourselves what should be ours by right, what is wrung from us by infamous greed. what would suffice us would not be missed by those who have more than plenty, yet even this they will not give us. we must get it for ourselves." wardo nodded. "that will be a good thing to do. where shall we find it?" "why should we show mercy to them?" wulf declaimed. "what mercy have they shown us? do they not grind us into the earth; do we not pay in sweat and blood for their idle pleasures? and with all of this, have they not sought to force us to our knees before any new god they choose to perch upon a pedestal? i, for one, will not worship because one man says 'bow down!' and i do not care who knows it. i am as good as the next man, and i will have my rights." wardo, who had never heard anything like this before, was impressed deeply. "i say so too," he exclaimed with great earnestness. "let us take what is our own. then if thou hast rights, _i_ have rights also. and i will have my rights!" "of course! i see thou art a clever fellow, and a man after mine own heart. drink more wine. see, then, i will tell thee a thing. this lord of thine, who oppresses thee and vouchsafes thee no rights, who wrings from thee what should be thine--thou hast him in thy hand. he hath committed a grievous crime in giving shelter to a murderer. does he think that his guest will not be demanded of him by those whom that guest hath wronged? for this does he not deserve punishment?" wardo nodded, much bewildered at the rapid changes of subject he was called upon to follow. gods, gold, oppression, murderers, and all at once--and his mind was taxed with one thing at a time. "then i see plainly that thou art chosen to execute justice and to claim thy full reward!" cried wulf, in sonorous prophecy. "oh, no--not on my lord!" said wardo, firmly. "or, look you, it would be i who should be executed." and chuckled at his cleverness in discovering this point. "you do not understand," wulf assured him, patiently. "there is no danger in it for you--none at all. all you will do is to answer these questions i shall ask you now. tell me then, first, how many men can your lord summon to--let us say, protect this lord felix when his enemies find him out?" "with his familia, and the coloni and casarii who own him lord, he can call out near a thousand; though it would take time to gather all of these from his estates. but, my friend, how may the enemies of this lord felix find him out when they know not where he is?" again he chuckled at the point which he had made. "true," wulf admitted smoothly. "i but suppose the case. for they are roaming far and wide, and if they find him not, it will not be for lack of searching." "now i must tell my lord of this, that he may be prepared," wardo muttered. he pressed his hands to his temples. "my head is buzzing with your questions, and i am weary, for i have ridden far. pray you, let me sleep." "not yet!" wulf said hastily, in alarm, as wardo's head sank lower. "see, friend, you are trusted in your lord's household, i doubt not. is there a rear door, even a very little one, of which you know where the key is hung?" wardo jerked his head upright, his eyes half closed. "what is this you say?" he asked angrily. "what would you with a--a--little key?" "give me a key, and i will give you as much gold as you can carry on your back," said wulf, low and eagerly, his caution forgotten in the fever of his greed. wardo opened his eyes with effort to their fullest extent and stared at him. his voice was thick and stuttering. "a key? to my lord's house? _deae matres!_ what should i do that for? i am my lord's man!" "you shall come to no harm!" wulf urged desperately, fearful lest the man fall asleep before he could gain what he would. but at last wardo understood. he staggered off the couch, clutching at sada's shoulder for support, reeling and blind with drink, and towered over wulf. "look you, sirrah!" he shouted, so that men turned to look at him in surprise, "i am no traitor to my lord! i am his man, blood and body, and his will is my law and his faith is my faith. i have served him loyally, and so shall i continue to serve. what is this you would have me do? turn rascal, even as you? holy gods, i'll show you, knave and varlet--" unexpectedly he stooped, and caught wulf by the collar of his tunic. wulf struggled, but wardo dragged him across the floor, shook him, and flung him outside the door and slammed it. he turned to sada, demanding her applause with drunken self-satisfaction at his prowess, dropped on the nearest couch in abject prostration, and was instantly asleep. after uncounted hours he roused, to find sada dashing cold water in his face and calling his name in great distress. they were alone in the room, and the sun was shining through the window. "what hast thou?" wardo grumbled. "let me sleep!" she shook his shoulder. "hasten, wardo, and undo the mischief thou hast done while there may yet be time. for hours i have tried to wake thee!" "harm? what harm?" "thou hast told that evil man all he would know of thy lord's defences, of the treasures within his house, and of the lord called felix who is there. and when thou wert asleep he, being drunken also, did tell eunice, who bade him render payment for his wine, that it would not take long to send word to these men who search for this lord felix, and that then he would give her gold and jewels in plenty. hasten, wardo, and warn thy lord, or it will be too late!" she wrung her hands. "_i_ have done this thing?" wardo exclaimed, pointing a finger at his own broad chest. "nay, girl, thou'rt joking!" "never that!" cried sada, with impatience. "thou wert drunk, i tell thee, and he got out of thee what he would. thy lord is betrayed, and through thee!" "betrayed!" the word stabbed through his dull sodden wits and sent him starting from the couch, his face gray with horror. he sank back with a groan of sheer physical sickness, and tried again, his teeth set, the sweat starting on his forehead. his legs trembled under him, and his eyes were dazed, but he got to the door and leaned against it, his hands over his face. "if i have done this thing thou sayest," he said hoarsely, "my life is rightly forfeit, and i shall give it into my lord's hand. i do not understand--i am my lord's man, and loyal." he turned to her in stunned appeal. "sada girl, am i drunk, that thou shouldst fill me with this madness?" her eyes filled with tears. "nay," she answered sadly. "thou art sober now." the fresh air aided what the shock of her words had begun. he mounted, heavily, yet in feverish desperate haste, whirled his horse about with scarcely a word of farewell to her, and struck the heavy spurs deep. the beast sprang forward, with a shower of sparks from the cobbles. sada, returning from the door, ran into the arms of a thin slip of a girl, white-faced and with burning eyes, who caught her and cried desperately: "what said he of nicanor? what have they done to him? does he live still?" "peace, child!" said sada. "now he hath thought for nothing but this thing which he hath done, and i with him. but last night he did tell me that this friend of his, thy lover, hath been sent to the mines, and that he had been of the guard." "and i not to know!" cried eldris, bitterly. "he might have told me how he looked and what he said; and now he hath gone, and i may not ask him--" "ay, and i think that i shall never see him more. for surely his lord will slay him when he knows what he hath done," said sada. suddenly she put her head on eldris's shoulder and wept; and eldris, by way of showing sympathy, having love sorrows of her own, put her arms about her and wept also. ii the lord eudemius laid himself upon his couch of ebon and carved ivory with the air of a man whose work has been well done. midnight was long gone, the great house was quiet, and the desire of his heart stood forth in fulfilment. he had a son; his dying house was propped with fresh strength and vigor, and the gods of the shades might claim him when they would. one week ago had the marriage been celebrated. each night since there had been feasts, with at every feast new dishes contrived, new sports and entertainments offered, new souvenirs of price distributed, to provide the jaded senses of his guests with fresh gratification. now the festivities were nearly over; already some of the lords had gone. among them was count pomponius, with his wardens of the eastern marches, for it was reported that saxons were again harrying and burning along the coast. in the mellow light of the bronze lamps the face of eudemius showed softer, less inscrutable, with eyes more kindly. on it was great weariness, but also a great content. he put forth a hand and touched the bell on the stand beside his couch. the strain under which he had labored was lifting; he could afford to relax. the silvery tinkle of sound had scarcely fallen into the quiet of the room when mycon, chief of the eunuchs, entered, parting the curtains, with his arms crossed before his face. "bid cyrrus bring hither his lyre," said eudemius. many and many a day had gone since their dark lord had given such command; the cries and groans of his slaves had been music enough for him. mycon bowed in silence and went. before five minutes had fled, word of the miracle had gone from end to end of the ranks of those whose duty it was to watch the house by night; and weary men and women smiled and blessed their little lady, who perhaps had bought for them the dawn of a happier day. cyrrus the musician entered, a slender greek boy; and the low light was caught by the silver frame of the lyre he bore, and rippled on its strings. he put himself where he should not be too much under his lord's eyes, and played; and as though the instinct of his art had taught him what to do, the music he played was plaintive and low and soothing. eudemius lay with arms behind his head and stared at the painted ceiling where naked nereids sported. by slow degrees, still more his hard face softened; under the spell of the music and of his thoughts his thin lips parted to a smile. slow and soft the melody rippled into the quiet room, singing of placid waters smiling in the sun, with lilies floating on their bosom, of young fleecy clouds and tender shadows. again it changed, with dropping notes like tears, and whispered of the yearning hopes of men, of world pain and heart's peace, of longings unfulfilled and prayers unanswered. two tears, the slow and difficult tears of age, stole down eudemius's gray furrowed cheeks and lost themselves in his silken pillow. "my child!" he whispered. "my little, little child!" in that moment the pathetic unloved beauty of her came nearer to touching him than ever before. he forgot that he had sold her into bondage; forgot that her happiness might not lie along the road of his. she had done what he would have her do; she had been a dutiful daughter, and at the last he rejoiced in her. varia, at that hour, sat alone in her chamber, awaiting the coming of her lord. there were traces of tears upon her cheeks; her lids drooped with weariness and sleep. they had taken away her robes of state, in which she had sat by marius's side through interminable hours of merrymaking, when a thousand eyes had stared at her from a swimming sea of lights, and she had shrunk and trembled beneath their glances. they had put upon her a thin robe of seres silk of rose, with no ornament or jewel upon it. with bare neck and arms, and warm white throat bending with the drooping flower of her head, she looked more than ever a child. to all that they had done to her throughout the endless days of festival, she had submitted docilely, dazed, if she could have told it, by the excitement of those around her. faces, scenes, events, had passed before her in a blurred confusion, in which she could neither think nor see clearly. she had repeated words of whose meaning she had no knowledge; she had drunk wine and only been distressed that a drop had fallen upon her royal robe; she had broken a cake of bread and only wondered why her little black slave was not there to gather up the crumbs. of her lord she had seen little, save upon one fearful night of which the memory still sent burning shudders through her frightened heart. she drifted upon a gray sea of loneliness, torn from her old shelters, given nothing to which she might turn and cling. she got up from the chair covered with rugs of white fur, in which she had been nestling like a great rose, and went to the window which looked upon the garden, all her movements restless, like some shy creature caged. now the garden lay deserted, desolate in the mistiness of the moonlight. she held her arms out to it in vague yearning. "i would i were out there now!" she cried softly. "where the trees whisper and the lake sleeps, and none but may hear the music of one voice. he is gone--he is gone from me, and i know not where they have taken him. and i long for him; i would i could creep into his arms and rest upon his breast forever, for then i should not be frightened. now i am left alone--i know not where to turn for very fear--my head it burneth and my hands are cold. and i fear to be alone--and the night is dark--so dark!" a gust of wind rose slowly through the trees, like the flapping of unseen wings, and varia shivered. the moon was now and again obscured under vast driving clouds; through the gloom trees massed themselves into blots of sinister shadow. when the wind's voice died, the earth hung silent, in suspense, so that varia held her breath in sheer unconscious attunement to it. in the garden she saw a black shape flying with quick darting swoops. she knew it for a bat, but her eyes dilated with nervous fright. it was so very still--in all the world there was no sound at all. she glanced fearfully over her shoulder. even the lighted room was not reassuring; it also held the same waiting stillness which she dared not break by so much as a sigh. only the flame from the perfumed lamps flickered wanly in the draught. her wide eyes fixed themselves upon the window, striving to pierce the mystery of the dark without; she yielded helplessly to the sway of the vast unnamed forces around her, a child frightened in the night. she sank upon the floor by the window, hiding her face. "nerissa!" she called in a small and shaken voice, and wept, more frightened at the little cry drowned in the tense stillness. never had she been so alone in her life; never so frightened. she clung to the window, crouched as small as possible, not daring to look up. and across the night a sound grew out of the void and came to her, and her face blanched, and she caught at her throat with shaking hands. faint, elusive, coming from very far away, to be felt rather than heard, it was now like the distant trampling of the feet of many men, now like the rush of water over stones, now like the whisper of the wind in trees, scarcely a thing apart from the silence which enfolded and engulfed it. it was a voice from nowhere, warning her straining senses of unknown and sinister things to come. "why, sweetheart, art hiding from me?" a voice said almost at her ear, and varia, taken unawares and startled out of all control, screamed aloud and shrank lower into her corner, sobbing violently. marius stooped over her and took her hands away from her face. "what is wrong?" he demanded. "why these tears, little wife?" "it was so dark!" varia wailed. "and there was no sound at all, and then there was a sound--" she wept again, her fresh terrors submerging even her fear of him. marius picked her up in his arms, carried her to the couch, and laid her there, and a moment she clung to his hand desperately. he was something human to hold to; so she would have clung to nerissa, or even to mycon. "afraid of the dark!" marius scoffed gently. "well, i am here now, and there is nothing shall harm thee. of a truth, i did begin to think the feast would never have an end. the more i burned to be done with it and come to thee, the more the minutes dragged. i pictured thee, awaiting me here in thy secret bower; thy flushing face and the veiling shadow of thy hair, thy denying hands and averted glances--and thy father's guests might well have thought me a love-sick fool, thinking of nothing but his secret hope that his mistress might prove kind." varia sat upright on the couch and put her feet upon the floor, and his eyes followed the gracious outlines of her form beneath its drapery of rose. she pushed her hair back from her eyes and looked at him. slow crimson spread from throat to brow; her glance wavered and fell. quite suddenly she put both hands to her face, hiding her eyes from his, and turned her face away. it was a gesture of a child, infinitely touching, all-betraying in its pure artlessness. he started toward her, his dark eyes keen; and she sat quite still, passive to this fate of hers from which flight no longer might avail her. but with the touch of his hand upon her shoulder there came a soft insistent knocking at the door. marius smothered a curse and strode to open it. mycon stood upon the threshold, and in the lamplight his face showed gray. he stammered like one caught in guilt. "lord, thy pardon! there is trouble without, and the master sends to ask my lord's presence. we be encompassed by barbarians who have crept upon us." "tell thy lord i come," said marius. varia was forgotten; scarcely had the slave vanished down the corridor when marius was after him, leaving his bride alone. now in the villa were to be heard the first sounds of people aroused from sleep to find themselves in the midst of unknown dangers. voices, frightened and impatient, echoed back and forth along the corridors; lights gleamed across the courts. men and women, half dressed, began to appear, questioning feverishly, delivering themselves of theories to any who would listen. "they say that if he will surrender felix they will depart at once in peace." "how came they to know that he was here? who told them?" "he will not surrender felix--" "if he does not--holy gods!--we shall all be slain and plundered." and above all, a woman's voice: "i will not stay to be robbed! i shall leave this house at once!" in the great court men had gathered about eudemius and marius, who held hasty consultation. felix, pale, nursing carefully his wounded arm, was on the outskirts of the group. his face all unconsciously betrayed his state of mind. it was white and flaccid; and at every yelp of the hounds outside who clamored for his life, he cringed and quivered. but he was very quiet, and the talk surged over his head as though he had not been there. men cast glances of scorn unveiled upon him, but he was long past caring what they thought. he wanted his life; his eyes craved protection. in his face was a desperate dumb reliance on the pride and honor of eudemius, which would not allow him to surrender one who had claimed his hospitality; craven himself, he yet recognized and centred all his faith upon this stern and scornful pride which must uphold its traditions at whatever cost. several of the younger lords who had been or were then in military service came forth, offering themselves, not at all averse, it would seem, to such variation in the entertainment. a handful of drunken barbarians--what were these? upon them and upon marius the defence of the villa devolved. marius gave his orders swiftly, and one by one his lieutenants sped away. all slaves capable of bearing arms were to be equipped at once from the armory. men were already stationed at intervals along the outer walls to guard against surprise. the house seethed with uproar, which no efforts of discipline could quench. women wept and clung together, terrified each by the others' terror. they huddled in bunches around the walls, catching at every man who would pause to speak with them. yes, there had been a barbarian even within the hall, a great fellow, tall as the house, who spat fire and spoke latin as no roman had ever heard latin spoken before. ay, truly, all the gods might witness that he had spat fire. and then he had left, taking back to his dogs of comrades their lord's refusal to yield up his guest. so there would be an attack, and men had many other things to do than to be stopped and chattered to by foolish women. mingled always with the lamentations of these was men's shouting, a trampling of many feet, a swift confusion. the lights, continually fanned by the passing of people, began to take on a lurid glare. in the wind which blew about the crowded court, cressets flared horribly, with very evil-smelling smoke. their light fell waveringly on jewels and golden collars and rich robes, and on burnished weapons in the hands of slaves. long since had the porter fled from his lodge, and his place was taken by a score of eager defenders. marius snatched a moment from the importunities of those who would know the precise state of their danger, and exactly how long it must be before they should all be slain, and ran up the stairs which led to the upper rooms. he felt his way through the darkness until he came upon a window, very narrow and small, so high that he could overlook the rest of the house and by leaning out see something of what went on in front. and at what he saw he gave an exclamation, sharp and low, and his eyes glittered like those of a warhorse which scents battle. for all below him were lights which glinted in and out across the night; and to his trained ears rose the stamp and snort of stallions held in check, and the stir and rustle of many men. how many he could not tell, for the moon, fighting her way through a smother of clouds, gave scarce light to see, and in the trees the shadows were delusive. a man's voice shouted; other voices took it up, until a seething bubble of sound, hoarse and significant, eddied around the house and lost itself in distance. a stealthy stir and movement heaved itself from among the shadows; there was the clank of a weapon against an iron stirrup; vague forms seemed to circle more closely about the house. the voice shouted again and was answered by a scurry of horses' feet. "there be more than i had thought," marius muttered, and turned to go. "and they are not all mounted. also i think that they will try to take the door by storm. well, they can try! more than two may play at that game!" in time, those without began an attempt to batter their way in, so that marius proclaimed them very drunk and more foolish. he said nothing of his suspicion that this was merely intended to mask an attack in some other quarter, and was inclined to be scornful of this untried foe. so that some of the old men, taking no consideration of the fact that although his words were light his actions were prompt and well-planned, became timid, and the shrieks of the women redoubled at every assault upon the door. he strove to assure them that if their besiegers did break in, they could get no further for the bristling hedge of swords and spears which waited. but to this the timid ones replied with reason that they did not want them in at all. various guests began to take it in their heads that this was not the entertainment they had come for; and in an access of the strange panic which is liable to plunge even the most sober crowd into blind folly, if nothing worse, collected their valuables and their attendants and prepared incontinently to fly from the house. greatly their wrath raged when marius refused to let them out. they muttered that the heads of upstarts were easily turned by a little power, and they had rather be slain in the open than butchered like rats in their hole. and at this, the first hint of insubordination among his forces, marius became no longer the easy-going gallant whom most of them had known, but a being new and strange. he sprang to the mastery of the situation by, as it were, divine right, a right which was his by grace of the power that had trained him to face and control crises such as these. he treated these high-born lords and ladies as though they had been squads of mutinous recruits; he lashed them with his glance; he no longer requested, he ordered. his voice held a rasp which none had ever heard, and which brought them from displeased dignity to instant and abject obedience. he spared none,--faded voluptuary, whining graybeard, nor restive youth; in an hour he had bullied and frightened them into working like galley-slaves, and all the house was under the iron discipline of his camp. * * * * * in her chamber, varia, in all her terror and loneliness, was forgotten. about her was an insistent clamor of confusion; she stood in the middle of the room, dazed and overwhelmed by it, the light flowing softly over her. now and again a shouted order was flung across the tumult; with this there began presently to mingle sounds from without. in the corridor words flew by her, whose meaning she scarcely comprehended. "they have taken a tree to batter down the door--" "my lord marius saith we are _not_ to use the boiling pitch until he gives command." "he was crossing the court and an arrow fell from heaven and smote him." "thou liest, fool! it came in at a window!" and almost in her ears, so close it seemed, a masterful voice shouted: "where is that fat beast hito who hath the keys?" and was gone like smoke. and hito's name was taken up and tossed from hall to hall; she heard it now near, now far, in the midst of the rush of hasty footsteps and the tangle of voices. a scream pierced through the clamor and hung a moment above all other sounds; someone was wounded. she had a vision of claudius the physician brushing by her half-open door. as from a mist of terror she saw the flying of his skirt and the gleam of his silver beard. the actual point of attack was too far away for her to know what went on. she began to draw her breath in small gasping sobs, glancing this way and that, as one who longs to flee and dares not. a sound in the garden caught her ears; from where she stood she strained her eyes to see. only the armed man on guard behind the little narrow door, vine-hung, which led to the outer world. the man, though she could not see him for the darkness, was short and fat, and his little pig's eyes were glazed with fear. but there came other sounds; and a black figure heaved itself above the wall, on the outer side, against the starlight, and tottered insecurely there. and then that armed man squealed, and cast his weapon on the ground, and knelt; and this also she could not see. nor could she hear the words which the black figure on the wall flung down, nor what was answered, abjectly, with prayers and promises. she did not see the dark bulk slide scrambling down the wall, landing cat-like on its feet; she did not see it struggle a moment with the kneeling man who tried to rise and flee, and thrust him forward on his face. again new sounds reached her out of all the uproar on the other side of the house; the grating of a key, the thud of feet upon the sward. black figures came headlong out of the night; there was a clash of spurs on the marble steps; and one man, and another, and a third, leaped into the lighted room. first of them all was a short man, bowed in the legs, with a red scrub of beard and yellow eyes which gleamed at her. and those behind him were great and blond and bearded, with drawn daggers, and round shields of bull's hide on their left arms. they crowded on the heels of the foremost, and stopped short, staring in the brilliant light at the palpitating figure of rose. until then varia had shrunk and wept and trembled, a terrified child, alone, with no hand to cling to. but as the first barbarian crossed her threshold, she faced him, a desperate, tender thing at bay. unknown, unreckoned with, there lurked within her the strange race-instinct, born of blood in which was no drop of craven blood, and of caste which was greater than that of kings. she was the product of her day and her environment; but she was the product also of her mighty past, of great men who had fought and ruled their world, and great women who had ruled with them. it was instinct, dumb and blind, but it held her on her feet, facing them, though her eyes were frozen with terror; and she obeyed it because she had no sense or will to disobey. for one heart-beat there was no sound but the heavy panting of men's breath. then a man snatched a golden cup rimmed with rubies, which stood on a stand near the window, and thrust it into his breast. with his first motion the two others started upon varia where she stood, rose and white, in the middle of the chamber. midway, the larger man pushed the smaller red-bearded one aside; he recovered, with a vicious pass of his knife, which the other gave aside to parry. "i entered first!" the red one shouted. "hands off, thou son of swine! said we not that i, wulf, who brought thee hither, should have first choice? call you the others; thus we shall catch them front and rear." "call yourself!" said the other. he sprang forward, clutching at varia, slipped on the polished floor, and plunged headlong at her feet. varia screamed in terror; and as wulf overleaped his prostrate comrade and caught her in his arms, screamed again. her head was crushed against wulf's leather-clad breast, but she struggled and cried aloud as a hare cries when the hounds have brought it down. there was a rush from the corridor outside, a long-drawn shout of warning and triumph, answered by yells from the garden, where more black figures came leaping. wardo, grimed from head to foot, dashed into the room at the head of his men as a crowd of invaders surged through the long window. he lunged at wulf with the short broad sword he carried, and the point came away red. wulf gurgled and fell, dragging varia with him; and the fight closed over them both as water closes over a cast stone. and as life had entered the garden by that little narrow door, so death also entered, bringing with it what death must bring. iii when dawn washed the first faint streak of gray across the night sky, the barbarians, beaten back and baffled, retreated to the great wood from which they had come, and lurked darkly there. "i think we are not yet through with them," said marius. he had seen saxons fight before. with dawn, also, eudemius sent forth a trusty slave westward to seek aid from the civil authorities and from his own people at the mine, the nearest point at which it might be obtained, and with the dawn was found the body of hito, stabbed in the back, lying near the little garden door which led to the outer world. many of the guests chose to take their chances of attack, and left the villa hurriedly while yet the day was young. eudemius could not hold them prisoners, and would not if he could. his own was enough to guard. but felix did not go, and eudemius could not order him forth. he dared not leave the villa, where he felt a measure of security; were he to do so, he knew that it would be his fate to be captured and killed before he could win to safety. so they shrugged their shoulders and left him. that day the villa, unmolested and with half its inmates gone, seemed to sink into a calm of exhaustion, which, after the night that had passed, was like the calm of death. marius and eudemius themselves superintended the cleaning up of the house, the strengthening of barricades, the muster of the slaves for what further service might be needed. "i trust the messengers whom i sent forth have not been waylaid," eudemius said. "help could not come before to-morrow night," marius answered. "it will go hard with us if we cannot hold out that long. this time it may be that we shall fare better; there will be no hito to betray us." "i shall have him buried at the crossroads with a stake through his evil heart!" said eudemius. "there be eleven dead awaiting burial. this we shall do to-night. and varia, my son, how fares she?" "she is unhurt, but exhausted, and the old woman watches her," said marius. "sleep thou also, and i shall see to setting a watch about the house, and that those may take rest who can be spared." mycon entered, his arms before his face. "lords, there be a slave, wardo the saxon, who insists that he hath grave matters for thine ears. he is in very evil plight--" "let him stand forth," said eudemius. wardo came, tall, grim, very dirty. a bloody rag bound his head; he limped, and one of his sandals was stained with blood. he crossed his arms before his face, and waited. "speak!" eudemius commanded. and wardo spoke, standing erect, his blue eyes on his lord's face. "lord, it was not hito who betrayed the household, as i hear men say. it was i. there is a little man, red like a fox, who came to a house on thorney where was i. he also is saxon. and i, being drunken with much wine, did boast to this one of my lord's greatness, and of the feasts which were made within this house, and the wealth which was herein. and when i was sober, after many hours, one told me of what i had done, and of how this red saxon was gone to set his fellows upon my lord. so i rode until my horse fell with me and died, but i was too late to bring warning to my lord. when i reached this house last night, it was surrounded, with the door beaten down and men swarming within. so i, being saxon, and not suspected in the dark, entered, shouting, with others. and in my lady's chamber found i that red wulf, who is no wolf, but a sly thieving fox, and tried to slay him. but he got away. i am my lord's man." "it is well that you have told me this," said eudemius. "at sunset you shall be crucified. go." wardo crossed his arms before his face and went. when his work about the house was done, marius entered softly the room where varia lay, tended by nerissa. the old woman slipped away, and varia held out a slim hand to him in one of her sudden and unaccountable moods of coquetry. he kissed it gallantly. "how fares my lady?" varia shivered. "i do not wish to think of it! were it not for wardo--" "ay, that is true," said marius, misunderstanding. "well, by this night his fault will be punished. but how know you of what wardo hath done?" "how?" she echoed in surprise. "was it not my life he saved? and what is he to be punished for? what hath he done?" "naught that in the least would interest thee," he told her. "he shall not be harmed," she said firmly. "he saved me from two great men and one little one who would have slain me, and he is not to suffer for it." "now this is something new. dost know, sweeting, that had it not been for this knave wardo, no great men nor little would have come upon thee? it was he who betrayed us, and it is right that he should suffer for it." her eyes filled with tears. "he saved my life, and i will not have him suffer! what is to be done to him this night?" he tried to put her off. "never mind him, sweet one. think of him no more." but she repeated stubbornly: "what is to be done to him this night?" she glanced at him, one of her strange and sidelong glances. "is he to be--crucified?" marius started in spite of himself. "who told thee?" he demanded. "none told me," she answered. she raised her hands to her temples. "i felt it--here. so, i say that he shall _not_ be crucified, nor harmed in any way at all. and thou must see to it!" she was like an imperious young empress, commanding her meanest slave. "and if i will not?" said the slave, perversely. her child's mouth quivered. "but thou wilt!" she pleaded. she laid a hand upon his bare sinewy arm, fingering the heavy golden armlet on it, and for a fleeting instant raised her eyes to his. "thou wilt?" she repeated sweetly. his dark face hardened against her wiles. "the man hath played the traitor. he also is saxon. who knows but that he may set his fellows on again? nay, lady wife; i fear thy man must die." "ah, no!" she begged. "it is the first request i make of thee--thou'lt not refuse it if i ask thee?" "ask it then," said marius, his eyes on her, "in the right and proper way that a wife should ask her husband." rose-leaf color flushed her cheeks; she raised herself to her knees amid the draperies of the couch, and clasped her folded hands upon her breast, and closed her eyes, devout and meek and holy. "pray thee, let wardo go, my lord!" she said softly, and opened her eyes quickly to see how he might take it. "is it thus thou wouldst have me ask?" he bent his head, sudden laughter in his eyes, and kissed her pleading lips. "who could resist thee, lady mine?" he cried gayly. "sure never did unworthy man have so fair a lawyer. ay, child, if he saved thy life--and thy account and his do tally--he shall go free." varia slipped out of his arms and clapped her hands. "go then--go quickly and tell my lord father so! he will do it for thee, as thou hast done it for me. is it not so?" so it came to pass that evening that the cross in the chamber of fate knew not its victim; and for this there were more reasons than a girl's tender wiles. for while the flame of sunset again stabbed the dusk of night, came men out from the wood of anderida, fifteen miles away, some on foot and some on horseback, with at their head the red wulf, astride a great bay horse. wardo, from his station on the roofs, saw them from far off; saw also that many as they had been the night before, they were now fivefold more, an army bent on plunder, captained by lawlessness. and still no aid had come. wardo told marius, and marius went up on the roofs to see, and came back square of jaw and with moody eyes. he sought out eudemius, where the latter was going the rounds of their makeshift defences, and said: "this red hound of hell hath come back upon us and brought his pack, five times as many as before. thou knowest i am not one to turn tail when there is fighting to be done, but i can see what is to be seen. and we have women and children with us." "you think, then, that we should fly from here?" eudemius asked with sombre eyes. "i think we are lucky to have the chance to attempt it," said marius, curtly. "were it not better to lose half rather than all? for an hour we might stand against them, scarcely more. thy familia numbers five hundred souls; of these some are wounded and more are but incumbrances. if it pleaseth thee to stay, thou knowest that nothing will suit me better. a good fight against odds is worth risking much for. i but state the case as i have seen it." "my fighting days are over," said eudemius. "but i am not too old to run. and there are the women and the children. be it as thou sayest, lad. this work is thy work--" he broke off to chuckle grimly--"and thou'rt a clever workman! we have chariots and horses, and i will give command to pack what papers and things of value i may." again the villa was in uproar. chests were strapped on sumpter mules; chariots with pawing horses stood in the main courtyard, ready to be gone. slaves ran here and there with scrolls and bundles in their arms; cooks left the meat turning on the spits; dancing girls, wrapped in cloaks and clinging to their treasures, huddled together, waiting for the start. the gates were opened, and all but certain of the stewards and body-slaves were permitted to depart. they swarmed from the villa like ants when their hill is crushed, and spread off to the west, away from the direction of the enemy. and always the slave stationed on watch cried down to those below the approach, near and ever nearer, of that enemy; and at every cry a spasm of increased activity shuddered through the house. it was each one for himself, and the hindmost would surely rue it. "should we be separated in the night, let us plan to meet at one spot," said marius. he was strapping a bundle of food and a flask of wine to his saddle-bow, in the hurrying confusion of the courtyard, too old a campaigner to face a march without supplies. eudemius nodded, his arms full of papers, which a slave was placing in a box. "at londinium, then, whence i shall sail for gaul as soon as may be. we will wait there, each for the other. if the barbarians sweep the country widely, we may not at first be able to reach there." "that is true," said marius. "i have thought of that. our best plan will be to hold west from here, make a half circle and gain the bibracte road, and when the brutes are worrying the carcass here, return eastward, passing them by the road, and so reach londinium. the gods grant that ætius can spare me a legion!" in the end they barely escaped. the slave on watch shouted warning; the stewards flung themselves on their horses and made off. varia ran into the court, crying for nerissa; without ado marius lifted her into the chariot, of which wardo held the reins. the chariot of eudemius, driven by himself, was already rumbling through the gateway. there was a terrified scurry of slaves from under his horses' feet. he swung into the road and lashed the stallions to a gallop. close at his heels wardo followed, his grays leaping in the traces, with varia, white-faced, crouched low in front of him. the hollow thunder of the wheels mingled with the pounding of hoofs as they dashed into the oak-bordered road. marius swung himself to his horse's back as the beast reared with excitement, found his stirrups, and galloped hard after, his sword clapping against his greave. he did not see who followed through the gate, for as he caught up with the flying chariots, the first of the pursuers mounted the brow of the hill to the east of the house, not a quarter of a mile away. some of them rode their horses into the courtyard; others took up the trail of the fleeing romans. but they were there for plunder; soon they gave up the chase and galloped back to strive for their share with the others. those slaves who had been left behind or who were overtaken on the road were slain; as the sun went down there began in the stately halls an orgy which sounded to high heaven. so when they had eaten and drunk until they could eat and drink no more, they fought among themselves over the division of the spoils; and between them all they killed their leader, wulf the red son of wulf. also, in their drunken frenzy, they tried to set the villa on fire. in the midst of this, while they swept ravening through the rooms like devouring flame, while every court held its knot of drunken brawlers, who cursed and fought in darkness or under the flaring light of cressets, a detachment of milites stationarii, or military police, in whose hands was the maintenance of law and public order, rode over the western hills, coming hotfoot from calleva, thirty miles away. they fell upon the barbarians, taking them by surprise; these forgot their quarrels and made common cause against this sudden foe. at once bloody battle was waged beneath the stars; the pillared halls rang to the clang of weapons and the thud of armed feet. men in armor of bronze came crashing to the ground with their blood spreading from them darkly over the marble floors; in the courtyards men at every moment stumbled over bodies of the dead and dying. and an hour before dawn there arrived from the west a body of footsore miners, armed for the most part with picks, which it appeared they were skilled in using in a variety of ways. these combined with the stationarii; for an hour red death swept through hall and court and chamber, to the tune of the yelling of the human wolf-pack loosed for blood. at the end of it the barbarians, harried before and behind, unable to rally, fell into panic and started to flee, laden with what spoil they could bear away. by dawn what was left of the villa was again in roman hands, a wreck mighty in its desolation, epitome of the splendor that had been and the tragedy that was to come. the pendulum of time had started on its inevitable downward course, and where had been power and grandeur were but the ashes of pomp and pride. iv now, four days after that night when wardo had betrayed his lord in the house of chloris, men coming up from the mine, at sunset when the day's work was done, were herded by their overseers and guards into the bare open space at the mouth of the mine. the superintendent came among them, a grizzled man, hard-faced, as became his lot, and spoke. beside him was a slave whom some there recognized as from the villa, travel-stained and dropping with fatigue, just arrived with letters from his lord. "an attack hath been made upon the house of our lord by barbarians and insurgents," said the superintendent, glancing over the tablets he held. "it was repulsed, but with loss upon both sides. the barbarians came from the silva anderida, and it is thought that they are being reinforced by others, and will try again. my lord is hard pressed, for the house is crowded with guests gathered for the marriage feast of our lady. the attack hath been stubborn beyond belief; the barbarians demand that one lord felix, who slew their chief at anderida, be given up to them, and this my lord will not do. also my lord saith that knowledge of the rich treasure in the house was betrayed to the barbarians by a drunken slave, and they are hot for plunder. therefore he hath sent to me, as the nearest one to afford him help, commanding that i say to you in his name: those of you whose crimes are not murder or against religion shall be returned to the house to take part in its defence, as many as can be singled out by to-morrow's dawn. for loyal service and obedience to orders, ye shall receive the freedom of _casarii_ and your sentence here shall be cancelled. to-night your records shall be looked up, and to-morrow those of you whose names and numbers are called will be sent forward as quickly as may be." half a hundred voices raised a tired cheer, not so much because their lord was in danger, as because there was prospect of release. the nightly rations of black bread and beans were served out. some men took their portion to the huts where they slept, as beasts carry food to their lair; but these were for the most part condemned for murders and religious crimes and knew that they had no hope of freedom. the majority gathered in discussion about the fires, always with alert sentries hovering near at hand. all that night the air throbbed with expectation. in the first dark hours of morning the blast of a brazen trumpet brought five hundred men into the open, eager to know their fate. the superintendent and his assistants appeared with lists of names which they had worked all night to complete. men pressed close around him, eager not to lose a word; the overseers, whips in hand, mingled with the crowd to check incipient disturbances. a score of mounted guards were drawn up near by, waiting to escort the detail. lanterns shone here and there through the thin gray mist which hung over the broken land. nicanor woke at the first brassy blare of the trumpet. his face was keen with his first conscious thought; there was no doubt that he would be of those chosen. he made his toilet with a shake of his tunic, and went outside. around him, in the semi-darkness, figures were hurrying to where the superintendent, mounted on a keg, was calling the roll by the light of a lantern, with his hood pulled well over his face against the keen air of morning. his harsh voice, shouting names and numbers, rose above the stir and rustle of excited men. three rods from his hut, nicanor was jostled violently by one who wheeled with an oath to see who had run against him. "have a care, balbus!" nicanor said shortly. "what is thy haste? dost hope that thou wilt be chosen, man-killer? what wouldst give to be in my place? for i shall go, having neither religion nor blood upon my head." balbus snarled at the taunt. it had been flung at him before, with variations, until his temper was frayed to breaking-point. from nicanor it was not to be endured; for since the day of the rat-fight encounters between the two had been frequent and bloody, in spite of the guards' whips. now jealousy was added to the wrath of balbus, and with this the devil in him broke its chains. but after his nature, he was treacherous. he said nothing, nor gave warning that his anger was more than skin-deep; and made as though to pass nicanor and go his way. nicanor went on, laughing carelessly. but he was scarcely past when balbus wheeled around and struck. there was the glimmer of a blade, a smothered oath, and that was all. nicanor turned as though to attack his assailant, who had sprung back, staggered, pitched forward, and fell, rolling down the slight declivity. he struggled a moment to rise, and lay down again, very quiet, and the slope of ground hid him from casual observation in the camp. balbus drove his weapon into the earth to clean it, hid it in his shirt, and hurried into the crowd of miners, who, as the roll-call progressed, were being divided into two groups. "nimus!" the superintendent called, and a man stepped forward and joined the smaller group. "nico! niger! nicanor!" and at this balbus pressed forward, elbowing to the superintendent's side. "master, the man nicanor hath been fighting, it would seem, although with whom i do not know. when i came by, i saw him lying dead upon the ground by the huts." "nonius! ollus!" cried the overseer, and in the same breath--"when i have started these i will send men to bury him.--ossian!" shortly after sunrise three hundred and fifty men were started under escort to their lord's assistance, equipped as well as might be with the means at hand. when nicanor struggled back to consciousness, after unmarked hours, the noise of the tramping of men had ceased, and again the world was dark. he tried to move, and a twinge of agony hot as flame shot through him, shocking him into full wakefulness. he sat upright, wincing with pain, and slowly felt himself all over. there was blood upon his head, where he had struck it against a stone in falling, but it was caked and dried. and his tunic was torn, on the left side, just behind and under the shoulder. it took him some time to reach around and find the place, for every movement was slow torture. the cloth at this place was stiff with what he knew was blood. so, then, this was where the knife of balbus had gone home. he wondered if the wound were serious. the stars danced dizzily before his eyes, and he was faint from loss of blood. but there was a thing he had to do, a thing which all through unconsciousness had given him no rest. across the deeps of night and of oblivion a voice was calling, and he must follow it while he had life to stand. he got to his feet and stood swaying uncertainly. by sheer force of will he steadied himself, and turning his back on the silent settlement, started walking across the rough and broken country straight eastward toward the road which led to his heart's desire. sometimes he walked; sometimes he fell and lay staring at the high sky and the wheeling stars, waiting without sound or motion until he could gather strength to rise. sometimes he felt his tunic wet with fresh blood, and could not get at the wound to stanch it, and did not try; sometimes iron hammers, red-hot, beat upon his temples and left him blind and reeling with pain. always one idea possessed him; he must get to her who called him. she was in danger; he cursed the gods who had held him back from starting to her rescue with his mates. time lost--his chance gone--though he died for it, he would not let himself be beaten in this by fate. every ounce of the dogged sullen strength of him gathered itself to meet the demands of his stubborn will. and always, whether he walked in reason or in delirium, his course held eastward, straight as a homing pigeon for its loft. in time, when the sun was high, he reached the road which crossed the sabrina and led to the moor towns beyond. here he entered the barge of a waterman about to leave the bank, and sat waiting to be ferried across, staring straight before him, with never an answer to the boatman's idle talk. the boat's nose poked into the further bank, and the boatman demanded his fare. nicanor looked at him with eyes glittering with fever beneath his shaggy thatch of hair, and shook his head mutely, as at one who spoke an unknown tongue. he got out of the boat and walked up the road, and the man crossed his fingers in superstitious fright, muttered a prayer to the river-gods against ill luck, and let him go. once started again, nicanor walked all that day, and at nightfall reached corinium, five and twenty miles away. here his overwrought strength gave out, and he slept as the dead sleep, in the fields outside the town. hours before dawn he woke, haunted by the demon of unrest which rode him, begged food and a cup of milk at a farmhouse by the road, and started on again. all that day he walked, a mere machine dominated by a force which would drive it forward to the very verge of dissolution; and in the late evening he reached cunetio. here he did not know when he stopped, for he went to sleep on his feet, and woke and found himself on his back by the roadside, with the sun at high noon. desperate for the time he had lost, he hastened on, and in an hour came upon one of the small stations threaded along the high-roads between towns which were more than ten roman miles apart, kept as taverns by _diversores_ for the entertainment of travellers. there were folk stopping here, for outside the inn door stood horses, saddled and tethered. nicanor selected the animal which best pleased him,--a tall roan,--mounted, and rode away without so much as a glance behind him for pursuit. after that his way was easier. he met people, who stared at him and sometimes asked questions which he heard himself answering. dimly, without at all taking it in, he understood that they were vastly excited about something, but it was not worth while to ask questions on his own account. they were mere shadows, without substance, which drifted by and were forgotten; only he and his desire in all the world were real. so he reached calleva, in the open country amid the heather, where he stopped for an hour for food and to rest his horse. on again then for fifteen miles, and he rode through the station of bibracte, and turned aside into the oak-lined by-road for the last ten miles of his journey--miles which stretched before him as the most endless of all. again excitement burned in his veins like fever; he kicked his horse into a gallop which more than once threatened life and limb. they pounded up the last slope which hid the villa from view, spent horse and exhausted man, and gained the rise. and nicanor flung the roan back upon its haunches with a jerk which all but broke its jaw. "holy gods!" he muttered; and then--"holy gods! am i mad--or do i dream again?" the sight burst upon him in all its blinding suddenness and appalling hideousness,--a smoking ruin where had been the stately mansion of his lord; blank windows grinning at him like dead, open eyes; the garden of his dreams desecrated, its wall shattered, lying open, naked and despoiled, before the world. at the tinge of smoke which hovered like the breath of death above the place, his horse flung up its head and snorted. nicanor lifted his arms to the high heaven which for him was empty, and brought them slowly down before his face. "oh, thou heedless god, whoever thou mayest be that hast done this thing!" he cried into the bitterness of the desolation before him, "smite thou me also, for there is naught left for me! the stars fight against me; i am cursed with unending bitterness, and all that i can do is of no avail." the shock was as great as though he saw her whom he sought lying dead before him. for the first time he faltered, not knowing whither to go or what to do, not daring to search for what he feared to find. his horse, standing with legs spread wide and drooping head, heaved a great sob of exhaustion from its panting flanks. nicanor, staring ahead of him with gloomy eyes, roused, picked up his loose reins, and rode down the hill. at the yawning doorway, where no porter challenged, he swung himself from the saddle and went into the great central court. here was grass uprooted, a fountain wrecked; marble walks were stained with blood and the marks of feet; plants were torn up and broken. through empty room after empty room he hurried,--to hers, his lady's, first of all. and at the threshold of her bedchamber he stumbled over a body,--nerissa's, the old nurse; and behind her lay mycon, chief of the eunuchs. the room was in confusion; chests were torn open and their contents rifled; furniture was upset and hacked. in the bathroom near by, the marble bath, sunken in the floor, was filled with water, and there were towels and unguents and perfumes ready at hand. a bronze strigil lay across the threshold, where it had been dropped in someone's hasty flight. on from here he went, sick with fear of what might have been, and passed through other rooms. here were the same signs of wanton destruction; mosaic floors cracked and defaced, statues overthrown, hangings torn down and swaying to the wind in rags. he found other bodies; hito's huddled in the violated garden, amid the tangle of wrecked vines and trampled shrubbery; and those of many slaves. the storerooms had been looted, and broken amphoræ and the remains of food showed where drunken orgies had been held. in the hall of columns every article of gold or silver had been carried off. priceless vessels in embossed and enamelled glass lay shattered into fragments; even some of the bronze lamps were gone. velvet covers had been stripped from the couches; the table was drenched in spilled wine. a bust of the emperor which had stood on its marble pedestal at the end of the hall lay upon the floor, mutilated almost beyond recognition--work of romans, this, of the insurgents who refused to acknowledge the divinity of their temporal lord and sovereign. nicanor stood in the doorway, the lone living figure in a great desolation. all his fears and uncertainties were written in his face. when had this thing happened? what had become of his lord and his lord's guests? and his lady, what of her? had the relief from the mine been in time, and why were there no signs of them? what had become of the invaders, and why had all living things so completely disappeared? and where were the stationarii, that they had not taken possession of the place in the name of the law? he went back to those rooms which had been his lady's, torn with bitter doubt and dread. he walked reverently among the things which had been hers, as one who treads on holy ground, touching with his hands a chair over which was flung a rug of snowy furs, as though she had just left it--a table covered with bottles and perfume pots. and beside the couch where she had lain he dropped upon his knees and hid his face in the silken covers. heavy footsteps echoed outside in the empty corridor, and nicanor started to his feet, a hand on his knife. a man entered, stepping over nerissa's body, and stopped short. by his dress, his iron helmet, and short sword, nicanor knew him for a stationarius. this one, recovering from his surprise, advanced quickly. "so, fellow, i've caught you red-handed!" he cried, and grasped nicanor's shoulder. nicanor winced at the touch, but made no effort to get away. "there is no need of that," he said quietly. "i am my lord's man, slave in this house until a month ago." his collar of brass, with its graven name, bore evidence to his words. "i pray you tell me of what hath happened here, and of my lord, and his--his people." "that is another matter," said the stationarius, and let him go. "i thought thee of those roving reavers who have plagued us day and night. thou hast indeed been out of the world not to know these things. three nights ago this happened. we were sent down from calleva as soon as the word was brought, but when we arrived the mischief had been done. the lords had fled; the barbarians were in possession, and wallowing in the havoc they had wrought. we gave them battle; in the midst of it came your lord's men from the mines, whom also he had sent for. the barbarians fled with what booty they could gather. now the place is patrolled by stationarii. we have been burying bodies and saving what property we might, until your lord shall give command concerning it." "and my lord?" nicanor asked. "whither hath he fled?" "it is said to londinium," the soldier answered. "thence to rutupiæ to take ship for gaul. but of this i know not the truth. we are directed to send in our reports to his house in londinium; that is all that hath been told us." "then have i no time to lose," said nicanor. forthwith he remounted and rode eastward from the villa into the deepening dusk. he turned into the noviomagus road which led northward to londinium, down which he had been brought a prisoner so long a time before, when first he had entered into his slaveship. and here he saw that his lord's mansion had not been the only place to suffer. for he found himself in the very track of the barbarians as they had spread out of the silva anderida, through a neck of which, fifteen miles ahead, the road passed. an acrid smell of smoke hung heavy in the twilight; when he reached the station of noviomagus he found it all in flames, with dark figures which ran wildly in and out against the glare. here he changed his exhausted horse for a riderless gray which came snorting with terror out of the smoke and gloom, ready to welcome a master's hand and voice. he caught it, left the good roan by the roadside, and hastened on. he met and passed people on the road fleeing from burning houses and wrecked homes; in his ears were the crackle of flames and the wailing of women who mourned their dead. from small hamlets scattered in the country, folk were seeking refuge in the larger towns. yet when he had passed these heedless, scattered groups, he rode almost alone. all through the scented night he rode, and the round yellow moon rode with him. strange things were happening beneath that moon; in the crucible of destiny a new land was forming, a new order of things was rising on the ashes of the old. change, long germinating in hidden depths, was in the air, blowing warm with the breath of the south; in the earth, stirring with the first quickening of spring; in the hearts and minds of men. and it was in nicanor's heart as he rode fast through the night, fostered in his long season of darkness, unconscious, and inevitable as the changes which were taking place around him. ahead of him the great road stretched white in the moonlight, a broad ribbon which lost itself among hills and in the shadows of trees. in his ears was the thunder of his horse's feet, pounding insistent clamor into the quiet of the night; the wind of the speed of his going swept cool against his face. the night was gray around him, a velvet moon-steeped darkness, odorous with the fragrance of breaking earth. far away the deep-throated bay of a dog rose and died across the world. a bell note, thinned by distance to a faint dream-sound, stole over silent hill and valley; peace seemed to wrap the world around as in a cloister garden. yet not so many miles away were blazing fires, and red wounds, and the black and bitter death of a battle lost. with every mile the scene unrolled itself before him; off in the wide rolling country, which stretched on either hand, lights twinkled here and yonder, wakeful eyes of watchfulness among the hills. he passed pale glimmering bogs where by day lonely herons brooded, and wide barren heaths over which the road led straight as an arrow's flight. and as the miles reeled away under him his excitement began to mount with the sweep of his horse's stride. the exultation of rapid motion mingled with the rising fever of his wound; he wished to shout aloud, to sing. vague forms seemed to slip by him in the shadows; in every bush beside the road he saw white faces lurking. strange and half-formed impressions haunted him, of bearded men passing, who sometimes spoke an unknown tongue and sometimes vanished silently as ghosts. later, he could not tell if he had seen them or if it had been but his fevered dreams; for always when he forced himself to rouse and look about him sanely, the road reached before him white and deserted. all sense of pain left him, even all consciousness of the horse that he bestrode. he seemed floating miraculously through air, and was aware of vague surprise that he did not fall. he could not stop; an iron weight upon his shoulders crushed him to the earth, but at the same time a force against which he could not struggle drove him on. he became possessed of the idea that again he was working in the mines, under the overseer's lash; the sound of his horse's feet merged imperceptibly into the tapping of the picks, hideously loud, and the maddening rhythm of the sound pounded his brain into bruised torpor. then he knew that he was on fire; from head to foot he burned, parched as a soul in hell. balls of flame danced before his eyes; while he looked upon them they turned to faces grinning from out a blood-red mist. the faces drew closer and melted into one face, varia's face, as he had seen it last, white, with scarlet lips and flaming poppies upon either temple. then the mist in his eyes cleared suddenly, and he saw the figure below the face, wreathed in a floating web of moonlight through which white limbs gleamed, with dusky hair that streamed behind it in a cloud; saw that it was flying from him upon a great white horse. and as it fled it looked back at him with laughing eyes which yet were varia's eyes; and in its hand it bore a wan pale flame which was his soul, the essence of the genius in him which was his life. at once he knew the figure to be life and love, and all that men strive for and hold most dear; and all his being leaped to the fierce desire for conquest, and he shouted in triumph and pursued. but as fast as the good gray went, with ears laid back and neck outstretched and body flattened to its desperate headlong stride, that great white horse went faster, bearing ever just beyond his reach the slim figure, veiled in misty moonbeams, that laughed into his eyes yet fled from his embraces. he laughed aloud in answer, caught up in the whirlwind of his furious speed; heaven and earth held nothing but the divine frenzy of his desire. fire coursed through his veins; the chase was life itself, full-blooded, reckless, exultant and sublime, rioting gloriously with untamed passion. he was a god, all-conquering in the fierce pride of his lusty youth and strength; life was his, and love was his, if he could seize them. now the gray's head was at the white horse's shoulder; now he bent forward, laughing his hot triumph into those eyes which were varia's eyes, his arm outstretched to grasp the mist-veiled figure that leaned away from him, flying from him yet ready to yield in his clasp, with the pale flame wavering in one hand and a white arm raised to ward him off. he had no eyes for the road ahead; a stride, and the prize would be in his eager arms. ahead was the darkness of the great wood; a stride, and he was within its shadow. the moon was blotted out by the high blackness of trees; and in a heart-beat with its light were gone the white horse and the slim rider with its veil of gauze--gone like a wreath of smoke or a dream which is lost in darkness. he reeled in his saddle under the shock of it, and cried aloud in his disappointment; baffled, he thought that he had lost his quarry among the trees. the gray thundered on, with the reins hanging loose upon its neck, through the damp silence of the wood, where night hung heavy, and out into the open, where again the road gleamed white and empty beneath the moon. and then the moon was gone, and light went out of the world, and he knew himself for a soul cast into outer darkness. his mind was blank; he knew not whether he lived or died, nor did he care. he lived in a nebulous void of gray unconsciousness, horribly empty of all thought and all sensation. so he would have ridden, blindly, until his horse fell or he was halted. but through sheer exhaustion his fever burned itself out, and left him sane once more, and clinging to his horse's neck. his strength was gone; he was dazed and drunken. he came to himself abruptly, like a man starting from uneasy sleep, and stared about him, not knowing even how far he had been carried. he was on the break of the slope leading down to the marsh-ford, and the lights of thorney glinted over the water in his eyes. v his horse stumbled, and he pulled it up with an oath. now he was vividly conscious, every nerve strung taut, every sense alert, as a man will sometimes oddly waken from heavy slumber. they went down the slope at a lurching gallop, along the road churned into mire by the passing of many carts, and splashed into the muddy waters of the ford. and on the further bank the good gray stumbled again, tried gallantly to regain its stride, and came crashing to the ground with a coughing groan and a long sickening stagger. but nicanor had saved himself from a falling horse before. he was on his feet almost as the beast was down, reeling with sheer weakness, but recovering with dogged persistence. he left the horse dying at the water's edge, and started running up the street which led across the island from ford to ford, and his black shadow raced beside him in the moonlight. at the low cabin next to the house of chloris he stopped and pounded on the door. "who comes?" cried a great voice within. "it is i, nicanor! let me in!" said nicanor, huskily, out of a throat parched and stiff, and still pounded. the door opened with a rasping of bolts. the bulk of nicodemus appeared, half undressed, his single eye glinting under its furze of brow. "thou, lad? in the name of the goddess mothers, what dost thou here at this hour? not drunk again? ha, so! easy!" nicanor, with a hoarse and empty laugh, staggered forward even as his spent steed had done, and nicodemus caught him and lowered him to the floor. he sat quite helpless, fully conscious, yet with the strength of his limbs gone from him for the moment utterly. nicodemus shouted for myleia. she came, unkempt and kindly; between them the two got nicanor to his feet and helped him to a bunk. a lodger, wakened by the noise, thrust out a tousled head, saw only a drunken wayfarer, and went to sleep again, all undisturbed. but at this point nicanor resisted. "nay, not yet! i have first a thing to do.--nico, hath there been trouble of sorts on thorney these last three days?" nicodemus shook his great sides with laughter. "trouble? yea, verily! thorney hath been hopping to a mad dance these days, promise you!" "and thou hast been dancing with the maddest," said myleia, a hand upon his shoulder. "what quarrel is it of thine, my big ugly bear? some day thou'lt be brought home to me dead, or else be haled away to be sold as slave." "never fear it, jewel of my heart," nicodemus said tenderly. "now see we to this battered one. see, here be a bruise upon his skull the bigness of a duck's egg. get my shears, sweeting, and i'll clip this lion's mane of hair. it will lighten his head that that silver tongue of his may wag the better." "no, you will not!" said nicanor. "give me wine and let my hair alone. man, i tell you i've no time to lose. what happened here?" "out of the calm came forth a thunderbolt," said nicodemus, watching as myleia brought a bowl of water, with cloths and soothing herbs. she thrust the bowl into his hands, and he stood, great and hairy and patient, holding it for her while she cut away nicanor's tunic, where it had stuck fast to the wound, and washed away the clotted blood and grime. "but not so long ago as thou hast said. yester eve comes a cloud of dust over the hill by the marshes, and in the cloud as strange a sight as man may see. chariots, with horses smoking in the traces, lords on horseback, slaves and rabble, all flying from the gods know what. a tall man, very pale, with a mouth set like the jaws of a trap; a younger one, to whom all turned for command and advice; a woman lovely as--er, that is to say, fair enough to please a taste not over-critical as mine, very pale, with red lips and the eyes of a little child in trouble. they stopped here, even at this house, it being nearest, and bought food and wine, resting for a time, for the woman was as one half dead from weariness. then went they on once more, and took the road for londinium. i made as much as five and twenty--" nicanor raised his head, and his eyes were full of a weary triumph. "nico, that pale lord is my lord, and that fair lady my lady, and i must follow them even across to gaul." "what use?" said nicodemus. "they will not stay their passage for thee. tarry rather with us, and be healed. in the wink of a cat's eye i'll have that collar from off thy throat, and no man be the wiser. we have no son, this old woman of mine and i; stay thou and be son to us. thy lord will not miss thee, having other matters in his head. and it is long since we heard word from thee, lad." "i had thought the girl would have told thee," nicanor said. "and she--where is she?" "eh? what she?" nicodemus asked blankly, and myleia paused to listen. "a girl, eldris by name, half a briton, i think, who escaped from my lord's house. i told her to come hither, that thou wouldst give her shelter until i could come. hath she not been here?" "never hath such an one darkened these doors of mine," said nicodemus, and myleia nodded, adding quickly: "nay, or i should know!" "she hath likely been captured and returned," nicanor said, and let the subject drop. in spite of all they could say to him, he borrowed a horse from nicodemus, and at dawn set forth for londinium, haggard and stubborn and ridden by haunting desire which would not let him rest. and toward evening he returned, and in his face was written failure. what he told them gave no clew to that which all men could read in him. "my lord and his family sailed yester eve for gaul. a ship was on the point of starting, and they were taken on board. this i learned from a waterman at the quays, who had helped to load their goods. and i know beyond doubt that they are gone, and that they will not return hither.... now i am weary and would rest." his voice was utterly dead, without life or spirit. nicodemus, pierced by a glimmer of strange knowledge, laid a hand upon his shoulder. very dearly he loved his shaggy teller of tales, even though he knew that whether he loved or not was small matter to his idol. his voice lowered to a husky growl of tenderness. "son, is all well with thee?" a spasm, swift and sharp, passed over nicanor's face, and was gone like a shadow. his eyes flinched as though a hand had touched a raw and quivering nerve. "nay," he answered, very quietly. "it is not well." he wandered out, in time, away from their anxious questionings, across the marsh-ford, and toward the gray hills which rolled away to east and west, where the noise of the traffic could not follow. he threw himself upon the ground and stared upward at the gray misty skies, where no blue showed through and where black dots of birds went sailing. here was the ground of his boyhood dreams,--he knew it with a tinge of bitterness,--dreams that had ended always under gray skies, upon the bleak hills of the uplands. here, where the full shy heart of him had first known the secret of its power in those long-gone boyhood days, he had entered upon his heritage, thinking only of its joy, knowing nothing of its pain. and here he had returned. then he had seen himself a soaring lark, singing out its life in pure joy and triumph in a fair world of dreams and sunshine. now he knew that the lark was caged, doomed to beat its wings forever against bars stronger than iron, that the dreams were shattered and the world was dark. his life was empty; he had lost all, a slave without a master, a singer whose song was stilled. his face, unchanging, stared at the changeless sky; he lay stolid and motionless, and aching with dumb loneliness. out of all the world he knew himself alone, set apart from his kind by that heritage which his ardent youth had thought all joy; alien, with his world not the world of those around him, and his way the way of loneliness. in time, nature had her way with him, and he slept, alone upon the hillside, in the dead slumber of exhaustion. the world thundered on around him; the web of life unrolled endlessly from the distaff of the second fate; and he slept on, unheeding. vi in the late afternoon, when gray shadows were stealing westward over the quiet hills, came eldris along the road toward thorney, with an empty basket on her arm. she looked younger, rounder, better fed; her eyes were darkly blue and full of light, her skin as white as milk. coming up a slight rise of ground, she saw the long figure lying against the hillside but a short distance away, and recognized it and stopped short, turning white, with a hand against her heart, all unprepared for what she had yearned to see. she went to him swiftly, and knelt beside him as he slept. "thank god! he hath returned--he is alive and well!" she whispered. "i had feared--oh, i know not what i feared! how hath he escaped? ay me, but he is changed! there is that in his face which was not there before, and there is something gone from it. so thin he is--sure he hath been ill." she hung over him in rapt absorption of tenderness; she listened to his slow and heavy breathing; she longed to draw his rough black head into her arms. yet she dared scarcely touch him, since even in sleep he was still too much his own; rosy and shy she leaned above him, her face transfigured. they were alone in the world, with gray empty skies above them and gray silent hills rolling upon either hand. with one finger she touched a lock of his hair, rough and matted, and dearer to her than all silken tresses; and he lay as one dead, very far from her. she whispered his name, but not for him to hear; at the deepness of his slumber she became emboldened. she stroked the hair from his forehead with mother-tender hands; her eyes brooded over him. he was her god; out of his strength he had saved her when she was helpless, so she murmured, ready, womanlike, to glorify; now he lay broken at her feet, with lean lithe limbs relaxed, with lids down-dropped over the gray sombre eyes which never had looked love into her eyes, with lips still grim and set even in the unconsciousness of sleep. she bent her head and with her lips touched the hair that she had smoothed. he stirred, and she started, a guilty thing, crimsoned with shame; but he did not wake. her ears caught a word, as though in sleep he had felt a warm presence near him. "beloved!" and for a name she listened hungrily, but none came. who had found a place in that deep stern heart of his?--so she asked herself with a small inward twinge of an emotion new and strange. for whom had his keen eyes softened? who had listened thralled to the silver speech which was all his? who had known the strength of his arms? who had found the spell which would soothe his savage moods to stillness and unloose the flood-gates of his magic? whose was the name so sacred that even in sleep his lips could guard it? "that is what he wants," she murmured; "some one to love him, to understand and comfort when he is so black and bitter, and i think it is what he hath never found. ah, pray god he may find that one!" because she loved, it was given her to understand. and, understanding, she caught a glimpse of the tragedy of the loneliness in which those souls must wander whose world is not the world of everyday life and love and death. quick tears dimmed her eyes, of pity because she understood; and one fell warm on the quiet face at her knee. nicanor opened his eyes, without moving, but eldris saw, and sat stiffened with fear, self-betrayed in her swift flush. he raised himself on an elbow and looked at her, smiling slightly. "thou?" he said, with no surprise in his voice, as though he had thought of nothing but to find her there. "i thought nicodemus said thou hadst not come." "i did not go to him," said eldris. "i was at another house a little while. now i am taken care of by the priests of saint peter's." nicanor nodded. his eyes had not left her face. "perhaps that is best. why dost thou weep?" eldris flushed again. but his gray eyes were inexorable; they dragged truth from her in spite of all her will. "i--thou wert sleeping, and i thought thee ill, and i--was sorry." "i am not ill," he answered, and his voice was gentle. "but let us speak of thee. now i have come, not so soon as i had thought to come. it was not mine to say what i should do." [illustration: "the sight burst upon him in all its hideousness,--where had been the stately mansion of his lord."] "you mean--?" eldris said quickly. "tell me of it. tell me all of it, i pray you!" nicanor's eyes changed with the quick sweet smile which at rare times had power to lighten his face as a shaft of sunshine lights a thundercloud. "all?" he repeated indulgently. "so, then, this is the tale." he sat rocking gently back and forth, hands clasped about his knees, looking not at her at all, but away over the billowing hills. "when thou hadst slipped away from the door of that torture room, i and hito amused ourselves. and when our game was ended, he had no thought of thee nor thy escape; me it was upon whom all his loving care was centred. so it was commanded that i be taken to the lowest dungeon cell, there to meditate upon the sins which were mine.... i think that in all the world no man knows darkness as do i. night is not dark; it hath the silver stars above it, and in the world the red earth-stars of men. but i was in darkness which was the darkness of the grave made manifest; it pressed upon mine eyes like leaden weights, and numbed my brain, and was a cloak which smothered me. what hours rolled on i knew not. i was fed or i starved; all was one. there was no time, there was no life, there was no death; there was but a naked soul sitting in still darkness. five paces is my cell from wall to wall; shoulder high above the floor is a jutting stone. i doubt not that it is red with blood, since each time i passed, it scored me if i had not care." her shiver brought his glance back to her; with a smile he woke to recollection of her presence. "i cry not thy sympathy, sweet sister; for there were times, and these were many, when the door of that dungeon opened wide, and hito himself could not take from me my freedom. when i was back upon the moors with shepherds, who listened while i spoke; when i was by the camp-fires of thorney in the fords and men left their business at my word; and there was no darkness then in all the world. back on the hills, where the clouds sweep free and the wind calls; back in the press of life, amid the crowding feet of men; back in the garden of lost dreams, where flowers bloomed and grass was green and tender, and brown birds sang of love and life and freedom. and hito, fond fool, rubbed his hands and thought he held me caged!" he was very far from her again, in his own strange world; and she sat and watched him, her soul in her shining eyes, if he had but seen it, and knew she could not enter with him. he spoke more quickly; his voice fell to a deeper note, and in it was a mystery at which eldris caught her breath. "and out of the darkness there came a tale to me, and thereafter there was light. and the tale is not yet ended--but it grows, it grows! night and day it rings within my head; always it is with me, mine and mine only. but there is that in it which eludes me, which i seek and cannot find. and until i find it, the tale is not yet done. and it is of a child, a babe who lay within his mother's arms and smiled at all the world." eldris started, and her eyes, fixed upon his face, widened and filled with light. and again at her motion nicanor came back to her. he looked at her, and his own eyes were as she had seen them once before, when upon a day she had told him that the name men called him was the silver-tongued. "once thou didst tell that tale to me," he said, "and day or night it hath never left me since. when it is ended, and i have found this thing i seek, then i'll tell it thee." he took up his speech again, and she hung upon his words, unafraid to watch him since his eyes were turned from her. "so there was a gray rat within this my dungeon cell; and at such times when the light faded and i was back therein, i coaxed and fed him, and taught him how to fight. eh, he was a gallant beast, and his scar is yet upon my hand. he, my gaunt gray rat, and this little christ of thine were all that kept my brain from madness those days when i sat in darkness. and in time, i, with others, was sent off to the mines, and there we labored until word came that men were needed to help our lord, who was attacked in his household by barbarians. but i was left behind when these were started, wounded by one with whom i had a quarrel about this same gray rat. when i reached our lord's house, it was empty, sacked and spoiled, and stationarii patrolled it. so i came onward to londinium and here again was i left behind. our lord hath left the country, and we are free to live or die as we may. i had no plan for thee when i bade thee to come hither, for there was no time for planning with hito's jaws agape for thee." he rose to his feet and stood looking down upon her. "now we be both alone, and there is but one thing for it that i can see. thou must come with me. i cannot promise thee ease nor even safety, but what i have, thou shalt have also." "with thee!" eldris repeated below her breath, and turned her face from him. it flushed and was radiant; love brimmed over in her eyes. was she the one who might find her place in that stern, deep heart of his,--she who might learn the spell which would soothe those bitter moods of his to stillness? her eyes glowed and drooped. and then, slowly, across her face there fell a shadow, and the shadow was of the cross. she knew nothing of evasion; as her heart, so her lips spoke. "with thee!" she breathed again. a sob caught her throat. in her turn she rose and faced him. "ah, i would so gladly--so gladly! but--i can go with thee in but one way, and that way as thy wife." nicanor looked at her. "why, thou knowest that may not be," he said gently, yet with some surprise. "i am a slave, and a slave hath no rights before the law, nor to lawful marriage. it is the law. but come thou!" eldris turned white. "i am christian!" she said painfully, "and that thing i may not do. father ambrose teacheth that christ hath forbidden." "i did not make the law," said nicanor. "could i do so, i'd give thee gladly the name of wife. but even thus, more of honor i could not give thee. it is not what i wish to do, but what i must do." he took her face between his hands. "child, the law is made, not by man, but by men; and it is not for man only, but for men. were it not found good by men, it could not be. and the law, in its wisdom, saith that a slave is a beast, a thing without rights; and i am a slave. there is no law which could marry me to thee.... i cannot give thee marriage,--i, a slave." "and i, a christian, cannot go without," said eldris, very low. two tears rolled from beneath her wan closed lids. nicanor bent his tall head and kissed them away, with what tenderness a brother might give a sister dearly loved. but with sudden wild sobbing eldris flung up her arms and clasped his neck, and hid her face against him. "oh, i would go with thee!" she wept. "heart of my heart, i would follow to the world's end, wherever thy path might lead me. i love thee, nicanor, oh, my man of the silver tongue! and i shall love thee even till i die. but go with thee i may not--i dare not! is this right? were thy law and my religion made for this, to wreak such woe upon those who follow them? it is cruel,--it is more cruel than death, and i would to god that i were dead!" nicanor stood a moment silent, stroking her dark hair gently. "no man would hold thee less worthy, since the case is as it must be. never have i heard of slaves who took thy view of this. all thy life shalt thou have honor and protection. were it in my power to mend matters, and i did not, the fault would then lie with me. as it is, it is no man's fault, and we have the right to make the best we may of it." she shook her head, struggling with her tears. his tone changed; it deepened and thrilled until she thrilled with it; in it she heard the concentration of all loneliness and all bitterness. "come to me, eldris, for i need thee sorely! all my life have i gone chained, desiring what i could not win, longing for what lay beyond me. must it be so again? once one said: 'seek thou the sanctuary while yet there may be time; and when thou art entered in all else shall be as nothing, for there thou shalt have peace.' then i did not understand; now know i too well. that is what all my life i have never found, though i have sought in many places, and for a weary while. therefore pray your god to pity me and all who are as i, for i am ridden by ten thousand devils--a flame consumes me which i cannot quench. an ambition is not all a blessing to him who hath it! oh, the dreams that were mine, which the high gods gave to me, and which are gone,--gone as the smoke goes and shall never come again! the glimpse i have had of a world that should be mine and never can be mine hath shown me all that i have lost. i beat my hands against the bars, and what doth it avail? i am a slave--a slave was i born and a slave shall i die. there is beauty in the world, and i may not see it; there is knowledge in the world, and i may not share it; and my soul is sick with longing for what all men may have but i. there is a thing within me which cries panting for release, and rends me because i know not how to set it free. it is agony and delight, pain and joy beyond all naming; and once i thought it only joy. thus ever hath it been: what i have thought would bring me peace hath brought me pain, and pain that i know not what i have done to deserve. it was not thus when i lived a brute's life among the brutes in far, gray, northern hills; there was i content, not knowing that i wanted something more. now have i stretched my hands out to a star, and found it so far beyond my reach that for me its light is lost in darkness which will never lift. yet the star is shining,--but not for me." the torrent of his speech checked. his voice dropped from the strain of its hoarse passion. he gathered her two hands closer on his breast. "we be two outcasts, thou and i!--thou shunning, i shunned. yet we still have each the other. now do i come seeking the sanctuary of thy love, thy balm and healing for the hands and heart i have beaten against my bars. wilt thou deny? must i be turned away? eldris, come!" "oh!" cried eldris, her heart in her stricken voice. long she looked at him, with eyes drowned in tears and lips quivering, all her struggle in her torn face. but suddenly she drew her hands from his, and slipped to her knees before him, and hid her face in shaking fingers. "oh, god!" she prayed,--and once nicanor had heard words babbling so from a man upon the rack who never knew that he had talked aloud,--"keep me from going with him! i want to so--oh, i want to so! make me strong--never let me yield to what is sin! keep me from going with him! i love him so that i would sin for him! dear jesus lord, keep me from doing that! but make me strong very quickly, or i must go--how can i stay when he so sorely needs me? oh, god, god, god, i could comfort him so well! we cannot help it, neither he nor i. nay, i will not weaken,--i will be strong, quite strong,--but in pity thou must help a little too! i love thee and the little jesus, but i love him more--oh, nay--not more! i did not mean it!" she raised her streaming face, turning at the last from the power whence no help came, to the human strength beside her. "oh, beloved, help me, for i cannot fight alone!" so, at the need of one soul, into the world another soul was born, and the long travail of spirit rending flesh was ended. "dear heart, be strong!--thy will shall be my will. if it be sin to thee, thou shalt not sin through me!" nicanor said, and knelt beside her. nerveless and shaken with strangling sobs, she crept into the shelter of his arms, trusting him wholly now that his word was hers, pleading unconsciously that he save her from herself and from him. he lifted her to her feet, soothing her with touch and voice, forgetting himself in her distress. her religious scruples he could not comprehend; the gods of religion were to be invoked when one wanted material benefits from them, not held as mentors to dictate one's course in life. but since she had such scruples, and since he was learning new, strange tolerance for and sympathy with others, it was not his to blame her for them; rather to remember that though they might be nothing to him, they were all to her, and were therefore not to be held lightly. so, because he was slowly gaining the strength to think of others before himself,--and of strength this is the surest test,--and because the tenderness of a strong man is greater than all the tenderness of a woman, he soothed her and brought her peace; and, it may be, in bringing it he found a measure of it himself. she was very dear to him,--dear as one might be who was not enshrined above all her kind forever. heart and soul he was another's, for all time and all eternity; yet life was his to live and to make the best of it, even though there was a locked and guarded chamber in it of which the key was lost.... hand in hand they walked homeward in the faint twilight glow. he left her at the church gate, and himself turned away, back toward the house of nicodemus, walking with bent head and broad shoulders bowed. but his face was not all sombre; something of the courage he had given her remained to him, and his eyes were softened with the new tenderness which still lived. for it is one of the compensations as well as of the penalties of life, that what one gives, one shall get again. at the threshold sudden distaste seized him; after what he had been through, the thought of the well-meaning, brutish chatter of nicodemus and his wife was not to be endured. he turned back again and went as far from them as he could get, down to the river-ford. here he sat upon the beach, away from the passing of the people; and the waters rippled at his feet. the west had cleared; overhead the faint rose of the sky was paling, but across the broad river was splashed a pastel of orange and blue and crimson; and the red, misty ball of the sun was dipping below the world's dark rim. "this is love also," nicanor said aloud, as though one had been by to hear him. "as she loveth me, so i love. there is love of a man for a maid, and of husband for wife; and there is love of sire for child, and of a friend for a friend, and of these all are different. yet it is all one love, touching life on every side.... why, then, it takes in all the world!" his voice changed and rang with quick and startled exultation. "gods of my fathers! i have found it--i have found that thing i sought! it is love, not fear, nor wrath, nor power, that gave that little child his power! and because it takes in all the world, this little one of whom men tell hath this love, then, for all the world. now this is strange! oh, little brother, i have found my tale, and it shall be greater than any tale that i have made before!" his eyes deepened and flashed to the quick surge of power which shook him; now well and truly should all men name him nicanor of the silver tongue. he was a slave, yet men should bow before him. no iron bars might longer hold him down; fate, that mocking fate of his, could no longer keep him chained. but over all the triumph in his face there grew also the old awe as in those days of boyhood, long ago, when first he knew himself for but the tool with which the work was wrought. his face changed and grew longing; his keen eyes dimmed. quite suddenly he rose to his knees, kneeling as he had seen eldris kneel, and clasped his hands as eldris had clasped hers. "oh, little brother of the world, if thou lovest all men, love me also, for i have no one else. when i have sought love, it hath ever turned from me, prospering nothing. but since it seemeth that all men must love something, woman, or fame, or gold, it may be that it is not for me to love one woman only, but all men. if it be that i must choose, i will lose love of woman, and love of friend, and love of child; i will live alone to the end of my days, if but this soul of mine, which singeth in my loneliness, may return to me and my lips be no longer dumb. love hath chained them; let now love set them free. and this my tale shall be strong as the wind that calls across the hills, and pure as flame, and great as love which takes in all the world, to the end that it may be worthy. mine it is, and mine only; i made it, and it is blood of my blood and flesh of my flesh, and none may take it from me. yet it is all, and i am naught but the voice which speaks." his voice sank. he sat in silence, looking beyond the sunset, his hands about his knees. so slowly the waters closed over the sun, and the day died, and the shadow of night descended upon thorney. vii old oaks caught the sunlight in their reaching hands and dropped it down to earth in flakes of gold; beech and larch and linden reared their tall heads above the road, and vines clung to them in woven tapestries of living green. there opened from this road dim forest aisles, veiled in dusk in which sunbeams quivered, paths of mystery, winding toward strange twilight worlds where wild wood-creatures wandered. warm earth-scents drenched the air; soft sibilant whisperings stirred overhead, and hidden birds chattered in the leafage. here nicanor sat in the dusk and gold of the forest's afternoon, his back against a gray tree-trunk, his hands about his knees. hither every day he wandered, drinking new life from earth's brown bosom, with idle hands and weaving brain. here, where he had lost his vision, he was drawn back as by enchantment. he wished to dream again; to conjure forth the flying figure from the void into which it had vanished. to him it was more real than reality; for want of the substance he strove to keep the shadow in his heart. in the spirit he roamed world-wide, with the narrow life of thorney, its petty din and traffic, fallen away from him and forgotten utterly. always his wandering ended in a garden, whose every path of dusky green he knew by heart, where one waited for him in the still evening light. in the flesh he lived with nicodemus and myleia, letting himself be waited on, worried over, caressed, to their affectionate hearts' content. no mood of his was too wayward for their sympathy; when at nightfall, after long hours of brooding, he would chant strange tales by some crowded camp-fire, than theirs were no voices quicker in wonder and applause. that they understood not half of what he said mattered nothing to their fondness; yet to nicanor it was this one thing which mattered all. nor were they the only ones who listened and loved his words. many a fretting soul he lulled to quiet by his magic; to many he gave pleasure whose pleasures were all too few. once he had scorned them, these simple children of plain and forest, whose emotions he could mould as a potter moulds his clay; in his high pride he had thought that these were not the worlds he was born to conquer. now he loved them; to bring a moment's brightness into some gray life, a moment's forgetfulness of pain to one who suffered--this it was his to do. for, as once he had thought to move the hearts of kings with his power, so now he knew that a king's heart is no more than man's heart, and only he may move the one who can move the other. and every heart that he won he laid in spirit at the feet of his lost lady, who had taught him the master-word of the tongue of men and angels, without which faith and hope can profit nothing, nor can any heart be won. a thicket of briars and underbrush hid him from the road. for drowsy hours he had looked through his tangled lattice upon the life that went up and down the highway, himself unseen,--a pedler, bent under the weight of the pack upon his shoulders, making wry faces at his blistered feet; a farmer, mounted on his clumsy two-wheeled cart, returning from the markets of londinium; a chariot, gay with paint and gilding, with two young nobles arguing over the races at uriconium; and between all these, long intervals of sun-steeped stillness, when the world drowsed and insects shrilled in the untrod grasses. later there came northward toward londinium a funeral train, on the way to the cemeteries that lined the road outside the town, weaving in and out among the checkered shadows, stately and slow and solemn in its pomp of death. there was a bier, draped with a pall of sable velvet, and drawn by four white horses, pacing slow. slaves and clients went on foot before and behind it; and beside it there walked a man, tall and of lordly bearing. his hand rested on the bier's edge; his face, bowed upon his breast, was scored with sorrow. there was dust upon the richness of his mourning cloak; and dust also on the plumed trappings of the horses, and the garments and the sandals of the slaves. this pilgrimage of love and sorrow had been no easy one, nor short. nicanor, peering through the brambles at the sombre train, read the story in the man's face, where tragedy sat frozen. at once his mind's eyes saw, beneath the embroidered pall, a fair dead face, great eyes closed, and lashes drooping on a marble cheek, two hands folded on a pulseless breast. in a heart-beat it was as though a veil had lifted, and he probed the depths of one phase of the world's tragedy; through one man's sorrow he looked into the sorrows of all men. by his own pain he felt himself made kin to all those thousands of the earth who knew pain also. the feeling lasted but a moment, and was gone, leaving him with hushed breath and shining eyes. "here have i found another chord of life to play on," he said softly. "and when it is touched there is no human heart but must answer. so thou also hast lost her, o friend! and yet, perhaps, after all, thou art happier than i. there are things worse than death, as i have found. at least ... she is all thine!" when the turn of the afternoon had come, and while he lay watching gnats dancing in a shaft of golden light that fell athwart the trees, his ears caught voices from the road, and the click of a horse's feet against a stone. a woman laughed; and again he parted the brambles and looked out. the road was splashed with sunshine and shadowed by the trees which arched above it and hid the sky. down it, with faces turned from thorney, two came toward him,--a girl, sitting sideways on a great bay horse, leaning to the man who walked beside it. she was fair, with long hair lying in a golden sheen upon her crimson mantle. she rode steadying herself to the horse's stride with a hand upon the man's shoulder. he, tall, fair also of hair and skin, with blue eyes laughing under flaxen brows, in a brown leathern jacket and brazen cap which caught the sun in small sliding gleams of light, led the horse by its bridle and looked up at her as she talked. down the green forest way they came in the mellow shade and sunshine, fair as gods, radiant in their youth and life and happiness, with eyes for nothing, ears for nothing, save each other. "it is wardo!" said nicanor, in surprise. "sure i had thought him on the way to gaul." he pressed through the thicket and stepped into the road. wardo saw him, and dropped the bridle with an exclamation, and ran forward. "thou!" he cried, and fell upon nicanor in a storm of joy. "thou great rascal, i had thought thee dead. where hast been that thou didst not seek me? when didst leave the mines? hast heard of what befell our lord? oh, i have hungered for thee, to tell thee the good fortune which is mine!" the horse came up to them, with the girl in the crimson mantle sitting stately on its back. her eyes were blue and shining; her cheeks were flushed with the rose of life. nicanor smiled at her and at his friend. "so, sada?" he said, with a note in his voice which neither caught. "all is then as it should be?" "ay, promise you that!" said wardo, a hand on the girl's knee. she smiled down into his eyes. "she is mine now. this day did i take the gold to chloris, and the cage-door opened, and my bird was free. my bird now, and no other man's." "thine!" she murmured, radiant. "when our lord departed for gaul, i was left behind in the confusion." so wardo told his tale. "well, perhaps i need not have been, had not the gods willed it so. therefore i was my own man, and could not be held to account for it, since my lord ran away from me, not i from him. so i joined those east saxons who are moving down upon us from the fens, and henceforth my lot is cast with them. for some of these i repaired swords, bucklers, what not, since my old trade is not lost to me, and for my work they gave me gold--ay, much gold. and with the gold i bought sada. now we go forth to seek our nest; where, we care not. she is mine, and i am free. ye holy gods, but it is fine for a man to own himself and call none other lord! no man ever more shall hold me slave to him. henceforth we be rovers, this star of my life and i. come thou with us, friend! if thou stay here, thou'lt be held no better than _erro_, a landless, masterless wanderer, who is fair game for the law and for all men. had my lord stayed, thou knowest that i too should have remained faithful. he being gone, we must fend for ourselves as best we may." nicanor shook his head. "nay, i stay here. go thou thy way, and may thy faring prosper. now tell of our lord and his escape." wardo laughed. "ho, there was work which thou shouldst have seen!" he told of wulf, and of the fighting which was done within the villa; of the flight from the house, the long ride by cart-track and highway to calleva, with his lady crouched in front of him and her hair blowing over his hands. and here nicanor broke in. "thou there with her, and i--tell me, man, was she hurt or frightened? did she swoon or weep?" "how could i see?" said wardo. "i stood, and she kneeled before me. and little did i care whether she wept or swooned, when the grays were plunging like to tear my arms from my body, and it was all i could do to keep upon two wheels. there went my lord ahead, and here pounded i after, and alongside rode my lord marius, watching his wife and itching to be back and have it out with those reavers. i saw it in his eye. eh, that was a wild night. we made the bibracte road, and doubled back eastward, and so rode for londinium. but at the second miliarium from bibracte the grays gave out. so my lord marius took my lady upon his saddle, and they all went on, bidding me follow as soon as might be. but by the grace of the gods, i was too late. when i reached the port, my lord and his people had set sail for gaul. well, then, if thou wilt not come with us, when things be settled, and a man may know better what to look for, i shall come and seek thee, and we will have a talk over old days together, and spill a drop or so to bacchus. until then, comrade o' mine, farewell." they grasped hands, and sada smiled a farewell at nicanor. the two went on, then, and left him standing there, and he watched them pass away into the glinting light and shade until sada's crimson mantle was lost in the green gloom of trees. he took his slow way back toward thorney, musing as he walked. "this day mine eyes have looked on life and death, and all that death mourns and life clamors is love, love, and again love. strange that something all men must love, who cannot live for themselves alone, no matter how they try." he came down from his dreams at the stepping-stones of the marsh-ford, to find himself all but overrunning a child who stood upon the bank and wept because he feared to cross--a small atom of a man, with little tunic torn and puckered face of woe. at sight of nicanor he ran, and flung himself against his legs, with the sure confidence of babyhood in all the new, strange world, and clamored to be taken home. nicanor stooped to him with a laugh, recognizing him as the son of one julius the tungrian, a field-hand belonging to the farmer medor, whose estate lay between the hills a half-mile from thorney. "how now, manling? why these tears at thy first venture into the world? how didst stray so far from mother's skirts? dost wish to go home?" "ay, home!" wept young julius. "thou wilt take me home!" "come, then," said nicanor, and swung him to his shoulder, and turned back from the ford to the road again. it came upon him then that this was the first time that ever he had held a child in his arms. always before had children run from him, learning, like their elders, to shun him: now he knew why. the softness of the round little body thrilled him oddly; the touch of the clinging hands, the baby weight upon his shoulder, called into life emotions such as he had never thought to know. a child, a little living child, her child and his.... the thought stirred him suddenly to his soul; and with the thought a fresh bit of the scroll of life unrolled before his eyes,--that scroll which slowly he was learning how to read. his heart caught another phase of the old experience of the world, the high pride and joy of fatherhood. again, as once before, he got a flash of new, strange light into the hearts and minds of all the world of men, as with the parting of a veil; found a new chord under his hand to be struck into pulsing life. all unaware that on a day his lady had said, "his son could i love, and be proud that he was mine," he marvelled at himself and at his feeling, and still more at the little one that had such power to wake it. he reached the farm of medor, and stopped at the cabin of julius, whom he knew, which stood at the edge of the estate. through the open doorway he could see, in the obscurity of the one poor room within, a woman's figure, bending to rub her man's back, bruised and raw from the harness of the plough, with ointment of herbs--a nightly proceeding regular as the evening meal. when she had done, he would take his turn in rubbing her; since it was not enough for women to be the bearers of children, but also they must be hewers of wood and drawers of water as well. she rose to straighten herself from her task, and saw the tall figure coming doorward, with the little one crowing upon his shoulder. at her exclamation, julius, rugged and mossed as a sturdy hemlock, came to the threshold to look over her shoulder, stripped to the waist, his neck and arms shining with the grease. "here is thy son, o kalia!" said nicanor, halting. "he was by thorney, weeping because the world was not large enough for his adventure." the mother received her son with tender welcome, but he held his arms out to nicanor, whimpering to be taken back. "he runs away to play with boys while i am in the field, the wicked one!" she said. julius looked down at her and at his boy with proud eyes. when he was drunk he would beat his wife, but she loved him because he loved their child. nicanor looked at the three. "he is worth having," he said, very soberly, nor thought that his words might sound strange to them. he smiled at the boy, and left them, with the mother's thanks following him. and julius, watching him across the field toward the road, said: "mark you how the boy hath taken to him? dost remember, before he went away from thorney, how children ran from him, and even folk feared him and his gall-tipped tongue?" "i remember," kalia answered. "even i have punished the child by saying, 'the black man nicanor will get thee if thou stop not thy crying,' until for very fear he ceased. never have i seen one so changed as he. juncina, the fish-wife, with whom i spoke but yesterday on thorney, saith that each day he goeth to lame gallus, the blacksmith's son, who is dying of a fever, and telleth him tales until the little one sleeps. and when folk give him money for his tales, he will take it, though he never asketh it, and of it he will give half to those three old men whom each day he tendeth. it is not so long since he hath been back on thorney, yet even so all men wonder at the change in him. verily, i think that he must be in love." "that is ever all you women think of!" julius grumbled. "were you to have your way of it, it would be love that worketh all the miracles, cureth all the illnesses, taketh the place of all the gods. now come and rub; i am sore in every joint and sinew." nicanor went home in a brown study, seeing never kalia's broad, homely face, untidy wisps of hair, brown bosom covered by her coarse gray kerchief, but that face, young and fair and tender, which in his dreams had become mingled with that other woman's face with holy eyes, who was the virgin mother of all love. when he thought of this one, it was to think of the other, no longer woman merely, but idealized and uplifted into all that he could imagine of purity, a something too fine for earth. in place of humble kalia, he pictured that fair patrician face as his soul's eyes saw it, glorified with the mother-love upon it, brooding over a round little head in the hollow of her breast. holy gods, the maddening, sweet mockery of it! he shook himself as one who throws off a weight upon him, and turned in at the house of nicodemus, whistling, with aching throat and sombre eyes of pain. it was later than he had thought, and the evening meal was over. this troubled him not at all, for in that house he was sovereign lord, and knew his power. myleia and her ursine spouse served him quite as though they had been his slaves. a roasted pigeon hot from the coals, beans cooked in oil with garlic, a cake of barley-bread baked in the ashes, honey, and a pitcher of wine--no lord could have fared better than their idol. nicodemus carried an empty platter to myleia in the kitchen, showing it to her with immense pride. "he hath eaten all!" he rumbled in a rasping whisper. "the first time these three weeks. come! that is doing better. we'll have him around yet, my girl--this spoiled baby of ours." "who spoileth him?" she retorted, pinching his ear gently. "thou art worse over him than a mother whose babe hath cut its first tooth. thou art foolish in thine old age, my great ugly bear." "soul of my heart, a man must find something to be foolish over!" he declared, vastly pleased. "and it is high time i left off being foolish over thee. eh, sweeting, what sayest thou?" he ruffled her hair with his great hand. nicanor looked in upon them from the threshold. "at it again, thou old lion and his mate? thou also!" he said, and smiled at them. "i go down to the ford--there be a party of men riding over the hill. wilt come, nico?" the two went forth into the evening, leaving myleia to watch them with fond eyes of pride from the low doorway. along the street people had begun to gather, with more of curiosity to see what might be seen than of apprehension. woodmen with bundles of fagots on their shoulders, fishermen with strings of fish, itinerant wine-sellers rattling strings of horn cups, with skins of cheap red wine, vendors of the black sticky sweetmeats made of the blood of beeves mixed with rice and honey,--all these ceased to cry custom for their evening trade in interest at the arrival of the strangers. it was long since such a crowd had descended upon thorney; trade might be improving. women, ragged, with more ragged children clinging to their skirts, came from the fisher-huts upon the beach to gaze across the marsh. and across the ford, on the crest of the long gentle rise of hill over which the straight road ran, came riding a troop of horsemen, carelessly, without order, in a tangle of waving spears and gleaming helmets. no merchants or townsfolk were these; and a tingle went through the crowd at the sight of weapons. those were days when none knew what to expect from hour to hour. the on-comers cantered down the hill and into the waters of the marsh-ford; and it could be seen that they were for the most part fair-skinned, and every man bore a round buckler of bullock's hide upon his arm. at once a whisper flew from end to end of thorney: "these be saxons!" the name had become a word with which to conjure. the crowd upon the beach increased. nicanor and nicodemus stood in the forefront of it and watched. the leaders of the party--an old man with white drifting beard and hot blue eyes, and a young one, with tanned face and brown, curling hair--rode out upon the shingle with stern faces set straight ahead. those behind them were more free and easy as to bearing; a man leaned from his saddle to scoop up water in his hand; there was joking in low tones, and deep-throated laughter. as they drew nearer to the people, waiting silent, it could be seen that they had with them a prisoner in their midst, bound upon his horse and wounded; and at sight of him a murmur fluttered through the crowd. for he went in the dress of a roman noble, torn and stained with blood, his head sunk forward on his breast, his right arm in a sling--a pitiful object, were there those to pity. with the crowd nicanor and nicodemus followed the saxons as they rode along the main street. questions flew from mouth to mouth: "who is this lord, their prisoner? whither take they him? how did they capture him? for what come they here?" but to these no man could give an answer. viii thereafter fate, the grim, smiling goddess, took into her own hand the shuttle of destiny and sent it flying fast rough the warp and woof of life. for when they came to the river's brink, the tide was in, and the waters of tamesis, too deep to ford with safety since the moon was full, swirled past them in their swift rush from the sea. the saxons halted on the beach, dismounting, while the leaders conferred, and the prisoner drooped pallid in their midst; and the men of thorney seized upon their chance for trade. an hundred mouths to feed was a boon not to be despised in those lean days. there sprang up a horde of wine-sellers, men with poultry, with produce, and with meats. the two leaders rode away to seek an inn, each attended by a servant. a fire was kindled on the beach, where in other days so many fires had blazed; for a brief while thorney took on a semblance of its former thriving self. mingled with the sounds of trade and barter there was heard the dry, thin rattle of a sistrum from a temple of isis where priests and worshippers were gathered for hidden rites; the voices of men singing, the neighing of horses. here, on the river side of thorney, the beach was wider than upon the marsh side. the houses grouped themselves in black, irregular masses behind this beach; and to the west, a short distance from the water's edge, rose the low stone wall which bounded the land of the christian church. fishermen's huts were crowded at the foot of this wall; and along the sand were strewn rotting spars and timbers, and there were boats drawn out of reach of the tide. old houses, wrecked by fire and time, leaned their tottering walls above the alleys at strange angles, settling slowly into the ruin of age. the round moon hung stately, low in the eastern sky, drowning in radiance the garish glare of flames; houses stood out sharp-cut against its light, and strange shadows flung across the crooked cobbled streets. a broad path of silver glinted on the inky waters of the river. the smell of fish and tar rose strong above all other scents. the saxons, hungry and weary from their march, ate hugely and drank deep. horns of mead and beer were drained and filled; white wine was as good as red. they talked with the men of thorney, in strange latin, with much gesticulation and interpolation of saxon words. among the many figures on the beach, black in the mingled light of moon and flame, was ceaseless motion, kaleidoscopic and bewildering. thorney woke to a lusty gayety, born of deep drinking; of recklessness, even, such as she had known rarely since the old days of the legions. laughter became louder; quarrels, short and fierce, arose as hot blood mounted with the fumes of wine. into the air there crept a tension, the intangible effluvium of excitement which precedes the arousing of the crowd. quite suddenly the spirits of people were raised to fever pitch; the boisterous vigor of the saxons was infectious. nicanor soon lost sight of nicodemus. he stood among the people, regarding the scene with eyes of detachment. as always in a crowd, an odd sense of impersonality possessed him, of aloofness; in it he was forgetful of his own presence, of his own corporeality; became as a mind seeking out its own. here and there he was recalled by a man's greeting; here and there also a woman spoke. everywhere he was hailed cheerily, as one comrade by another. jests were passed to him, for which he gave as good as he got. there was that in their intercourse with him which proved him one of themselves, an intimate sharer in their pleasures, their sorrows, their lives. yet he was the man who not so many years before had in this place been baited as men bait a bear--the surlier, the better sport. a red-lipped flower-girl, on the way home from her day's business in londinium with her basket of remaining blossoms, was pressed against his shoulder in the outer edge of the crowd that watched the saxons feed, as boys gather to see the wild beasts of the arena tear their meat. she turned, saw him, and laughed with gay raillery. "couldst even thou, o silver-tongued, make of these great guzzling cattle a tale?" he looked at her with quick artist joy in the vivid color and effect of her,--red lips, cheeks as brilliant as her roses, black eyes, midnight hair in which a crimson flower was tangled. in her laughing glance, her care-free joyous innocence, he caught a hint, gone as swiftly as it come, of that other who held his soul. now he understood the heart and inmost meaning of it; it was the all-compelling womanhood, the sacred spark, guarded and precious, which set men's hearts aflame; and for him, henceforth, because of that one, it made all women sacred. he answered her, banter for banter. "what would the world be without cattle, o flower-maiden? and why not a tale? there is a tale in all things, if one but look to find it--in every bud and leaf and flower--in these saxons--in thee, little sister to the rose!" "that is pretty," she cried, dimpling. "here is a bloom in payment; once it was as fragrant as thy words. may they never lose sweetness like a flower which fadeth!" reaching up, she thrust a flower behind his ear, as a young fop of the nobility would wear it, and sprang away into the crowd laughing. "the wish of innocence should be good omen; the gods grant it!" said nicanor. he pushed onward through the press to get a nearer view of the saxons; and heard as he came a great voice shouting a rhythmic chant. over the shoulders of those in front he could see a ring of saxons surrounding the man who sang. as they listened they drank, and as they drank grew more emphatic in applause. the singer was a bull-chested fellow, purple-faced with his exertions. he swung his sword, he roared, he heaved himself upon his toes; and nicanor, fellow-craftsman and maker of words, eyed him and smiled a smile of pity. the shouting ceased; the man cast himself upon the ground and called for wine. nicanor touched upon the shoulder one whose face showed that he understood the words. "friend, who is this dainty warbler, and what the burden of his song?" "who he is i know not," said the man, with a grunt of laughter. "what he sang was the greatness of his people, and their skill in war. tell thou them a tale, nicanor; these saxons will listen all day to tales, and give good silver to the teller." nicanor shook his head. "nay; perhaps they understand not latin over well, and i had rather that they understood than that they gave me silver. now what are they going to do?" two men dragged the prisoner forward into the circle of the firelight. he was afoot, but the hand free of the sling was bound to his body. that the poor wretch knew what they would do with him was plain; he cringed, and cast hunted glances around the ring of fire-lit, curious faces. "i am felix of anderida, a roman lord!" he cried in a high voice, his pale eyes wide with fear. "if there be any roman among ye who will free me from these saxon wolves, i will give him gold as much as his back may carry!" a saxon raised his hand and smote the lord upon the mouth, so that blood began to trickle down his chin. "cease thy bleating, thou white-eyed sheep!" he growled in latin. "that is not right, to strike a man unarmed and bound," said the man beside nicanor. "i think our backs could carry a goodly sum of gold, eh, friend? these fellows be half drunken; it should not be difficult to get him free of them, and after, make him pay. i am of the collegium of smiths in londinium, and i see many of my fellows here who would stand with me. also, we could summon the militarii unto us and let them settle the matter; it is not lawful that these saxons make away with a roman after this fashion." "i can hold them, if thou canst summon thy fellows quickly," said nicanor. his tone was quite assured. "but it must be done at once, before they have worked themselves up to mischief over him." "do thou so then, and i will shake a staff aloft when he is safe," said the man, and slipped away among the people. before nicanor could make his way through to confront the saxons, who were preparing for brutal sport with their prisoner, the horses of the two chieftains broke through the ring and the riders dismounted in the open space. the lord felix twisted away from those who held him and ran to the younger chief. "call thy fellows from me!" he cried. "each time when thou art not by they seek to torture me for their sport." the brown-haired leader folded his arms across his chest and looked down upon his prisoner. he spoke, in latin sufficiently fluent. "hast thou forgotten that i am ceawlin, son of that evor whom thou hast slain, and that my foot is upon thy neck and thy blood shall be let out in payment for my sire his blood? how then shouldst thou say what may or may not be done with thee, thou little toad?" it was then that nicanor came into the torchlit ring, walking carelessly, a song upon his lips. he stopped where the light fell fullest on him, facing the chieftains, shapely as a young pagan god in the strength and flower of his manhood, the red rose behind his ear. the speech of ceawlin broke and stopped; his gaze fastened upon the intruder with the swift recognition of one strong man for another. "who is this man?" he said sharply. none answered; his own people did not know, and no one else seemed ready to stand sponsor. ceawlin spoke again. "who art thou, fellow? art thou also of the welsh?" for as briton was the roman word, so welsh, or wælisc, a foreigner, was the saxon word, meaning merely one who was not of teuton race, and given to those nations which spoke the latin tongue. "i am a briton," said nicanor. "men call me the teller of tales, and i am come to buy from thee thy prisoner. what price wilt thou put upon him, o son of evor?" "how knowest thou me?" ceawlin asked doubtfully. his voice became angered. "what price, quotha! no price that thou canst pay, sir teller of tales!" "so? didst ever hear of that ancient sea-king who put too high a price upon his spoils?" said nicanor, with a laugh, choosing simple words that all might understand. before ceawlin had time to speak he swung around upon the listening men, standing tall in the ruddy light, his head thrown back to shake the hair from his eyes. "listen, o friends, for it is a good tale, such as ye know how to love. five black ships, dragon-prowed, rode out of the night, upon the black seas, upon the foam. long were they, and lean, and swift as the vertragus, the hound that outspeeds the hart. winds roared behind them; great birds swooped through the storm across their way; great waves rushed under them as they rode with rocking spars. spray swept across the faces of those who manned them, as the hair of a woman sweeps across her lover's face; crashing they reeled through lifting seas, and swam to the crests of curling billows rimmed with pale fire, and the thunder of their going outroared the clamoring storm. know ye the yell of the wind in the straining cordage, the heave and fall of the plunging deck beneath your feet? know ye the sting of brine upon your lips, and the savor of the salt winds in your lungs, o ye sons of evor?" a deep breath went through the circle, as though a breath from the outer seas had filled men's nostrils. ceawlin licked his lips as though he had thought to find them stiff with salt. "ay--we know!" he said deeply, his eyes alight. "hast thou then been also upon the seas?" nicanor laughed low. "nay, never i!" he said. "but i see that ye do know." "go on!" spoke a voice, impatient, from the circle. they were his, every man, and he knew it. in his first words he had struck the chord which answered true in them, these lawless sea-rovers; they were his to play upon as a musician on his lyre. the sure instinct of his art taught him to tell of those things which they themselves knew best, which were nearest to them, to their own lives. the ring held silent, awaiting his next word, bearded men who leaned upon their spears and iron swords, and listened. they had eyes for none other than he, this tall youth with the black hair and the eyes of steel, who stood before them in his careless pose of triumph, with his red rose thrust behind his ear; who knew what they knew, felt what they had felt, made them see what he saw, and held them in the hollow of his hand. caught up in his swift imagery, even they forgot their prisoner, who, it seemed, was further to one side, less in evidence among his guards. by now the romans had drawn closer to the ring of saxons, so that there was one dense crowd about the open space--much narrowed now--where the chieftains and nicanor stood. not for nothing had he listened to the talk of the deep-sea fishermen and the whalers who frequented thorney, and stored in his memory all that they could give him. in his tale was the clamor of the wild north wind, the scream of wheeling gulls, the groan of straining timbers, the rush of bubbling foam beneath sharp prows. he told of swift battle fought over heaving waters, whose jaws yawned for their dead; and men hung upon his words. he told of the red medley of the fight; of the heavy fall and sullen splash of bodies into the grave which waited; of ships that grappled in their death-throes like wrestling men and sank locked in their grim embrace; of defeat and triumph, of high courage of men who lost, and the higher courage of mercy of men who won; and men's faces grew eager, who themselves had lived through scenes such as these, and themselves had watched the death of gallant ships. nicanor glanced over the ring and saw that the prisoner had disappeared, leaving not a ripple in the crowd to mark his trail. the absorbed faces of his hearers, and the sense of what was being done behind their backs, seized him, and he smothered a laugh. his voice flowed on, deep-toned, vibrant, working his magic upon them, talking against time. somewhere in the outskirts of the crowd a horse neighed loudly; there was a flurry among those people nearest the sound, and high over men's heads a staff was shaken. nicanor's speech broke midway; this was the signal, and he no longer cared whether or not he held them. in that instant the spell was snapped; men stirred and whispered. and suddenly a shout of warning and anger went up-"the prisoner! the prisoner hath gone!" forgotten were the tale and its teller; the inner group of saxons surged into commotion and uproar. there was a rising storm of assertion and denial. ceawlin strode to nicanor, his link armor clashing softly as he moved. "now do i believe that thou hast had to do with this!" he cried in ready anger. nicanor laughed. "perhaps after all it had been better if thou hadst paid the price, lord saxon!" swift words sprang to ceawlin's lips, but the elder leader ran to them, shouting something in his own tongue. ceawlin turned to answer, and nicanor slipped away. face to face he came with a woman seldom seen beyond her jealous doors; a fat and shapeless bunch of garments topped by thin hair streaked with ruddy dye, a high white marble brow, an old face deeply lined. the woman was looking at him keenly, with boring vulture eyes. she spoke swiftly, in a voice clear-toned and silvery as a bell. "i heard thee speak.... once, long years ago, stood i in this place and heard a boy speak, an elfin, wolf-eyed child, who came out of the night and spoke with an un-childish tongue. often since have i thought of him and the power within him, for though i was young in years yet was i old in knowledge, and i knew that never had i seen one like him. into his hand i put a piece of silver, and i think it was the first that ever he had touched. art thou that child?" "ay," said nicanor. "that child was i. so it was thou who first didst teach me that silver could pay for souls." he thrust a hand into the pouch that hung at his belt and drew forth a broad piece of silver, holding it to her. "but i think it must be clean silver that pays for mine, o chloris." the woman flinched oddly. both had forgotten the rising tide of excitement around them. "nay," she said. "i will not have it back. canst not leave me the thought that there was one gift which i gave honestly--or is it with thee as ever with stony-hearted youth, swift to condemn, slow to understand?" "why should i condemn thee?" said nicanor. "that is not mine to do until in me is nothing to condemn. nay, rather could i pity thee." the heavy lids opened slightly over chloris's eyes. "and wherefore?" she asked with a hard note in her flute-like voice. "if i pity not myself, why shouldst thou pity? am i not loved, and have i not loved greatly? have i not riches beyond thine imaginings?" nicanor laughed low and softly, his keen eyes on the old face. "love thou hast never known, o chloris," he said gently. "in all thy long life of wanton ease, thy long life in which children might have leaned upon thy knees and children's voices might have called thee blessed, love thou hast never known. who could not pity this? or thy name would not be upon the lips of men in the market-place. when men love, think you they make common talk of what they love? when women love, keep they not themselves pure for love's pure sake? ay, truly i could pity thee, because some day thou wilt so pity thyself, in spite of thy riches beyond mine imaginings. that is all." "thou art over strange," said chloris. "and i would i had not spoken with thee. after all, what doth it matter? there is always the end, when darkness comes and the wax is wiped clean." "is there?" said nicanor. "is there an end to anything upon the earth?" "now thou art foolish," said chloris. her eyes were unchanged, but her voice was angry. "in truth there is an end, and the end is--death." she spoke with the deep-rooted and universal distaste of all romans to the direct reference to death. "must not all things be gathered to the shades? and is not that the end of them?" "believe it, then, for so long as thou canst, for thou wilt be the happier for believing," said nicanor. "and if some day it come to pass that thou dost believe differently, remember then what others have found, that only love can save thee--the love which thou hast never known. were it not wise, o chloris, to seek it while yet there may be time?" he paused, and his eyes forgot her. "i am seeking now," he said below his breath, and turned away from her into the crowd. chloris looked after him a moment with lids half dropped over her changeless eyes. "the breath of the gods hath breathed upon him, and he understands. oh, ay! he understands." she laughed, a silver tinkle which was not wholly mirth. "will it ever come to pass that chloris, the greatly loving, will rejoice to know that there is one who pities her? we shall see!" but meanwhile affairs had changed on thorney, even during the moments of nicanor's speech with chloris. the throng upon the beach, no longer orderly, was heaving with excitement. the saxons, spreading in all directions to search for their prisoner, were in no mood to care what offence they gave. they plucked brands from the fire, using them as torches, and started for the village, while men and women retreated before them, not knowing how far trouble might ensue. but before they reached the village, a body of militarii, hastily summoned, came forth from between the houses to meet them. the officer commanding them sprang upon a pile of lumber, shouting to the saxons, who halted, as it were irresolute. "while ye remain in this province it is right that ye should obey its laws! if this roman whom ye have taken hath committed crime against your laws or ours, let him be tried by these laws. otherwise will we not give him up to you. he is a freeborn roman, and is not to be done away with as a slave. if ye make oath to grant him trial, we will deliver him unto you." ceawlin, the hot-headed young chieftain, pulled his long sword from its bronze sheath, pointing with it to the figure upon the lumber-pile. his face flamed with red rage; he shook his sword and shouted to his men behind him. there was a rush; before the romans could prevent, a score of saxons had leaped upon the pile, dragging down him who spoke; and the first blood on thorney had been shed. it was the signal; like warring currents of the sea the two forces clashed. the beach was alive with figures, struggling, shouting, or swaying in deadly silence in each other's grip. light flickered snakelike along uplifted blades which shot above the sea of heads. it was a fight hand to hand, primitive, blind with insensate rage, ever-smouldering, which wanted but the spark of excuse to flame into the full flare of battle. the resistance of the militarii was speedily overcome; outnumbered, lacking their leader, they broke and fled. the saxons, with shouts of triumph, gave chase over the stony beach into the streets of the island, bent on the recapture of their prisoner, and on wreaking vengeance upon those who had dared oppose them. ix that night, in the house of juncina the fish-wife, kneeled eldris at the window of the loft where she slept, looking out upon the house-tops with her shoulders gleaming white through her loosened hair. through the window moonlight drifted, showing the squalor of the loft, and the bed where sosia, the daughter of juncina, lay asleep. into the night she murmured love-words, happy in her dreaming, calling to her love across the darkness. "is he in the wine-shop of nicodemus, or is he in the moonlight by the fords, telling his tales to those who crowd around him? doth he think of me, whose thoughts are all of him? or have i angered him over-deeply?--for never have i seen him since that day i said him nay. ah, nicanor, was it love that said thee nay? this hour might i have been lying in his arms, love's happy handmaid--so happy! what if i had yielded? i so want his love! what would god care? mary, mother, keep me from these thoughts! i would that i could see him now--this same moon doth shine upon him somewhere. thou old moon, how many maids hast thou looked down on since the beginning of the world, who have kneeled at windows, and thought of a man, and been foolish?" sosia, in the bed, awoke, turned on her back, and raised herself upon an elbow, showing her flat and heavy face above the blanket pulled to her chin. she spoke drowsily, in a voice thick with sleep: "hath the moon bewitched thee quite? in truth i think thee off thy wits with love. all these nights hast thou been foolish, and waked me from my sleep. wilt not come to bed, thou cruel girl?" reluctantly eldris undressed and got into bed beside sosia, who slept again, heavily, with stertorous breathings. the night breeze blew freshly in the window; from the village dogs barked, and the distant voices of men reached her. somewhere in that press was he, in the midst of the tide of hurrying life; and her heart went out to him. so she slept, deeply. once or twice she tried to waken, as one strives to rouse from dreams; but the black swoon of sleep held her fast; body and soul she was drowned in the soundless depths of oblivion. but suddenly she was awake, startled, and somewhat dazed. her first thought was wonder as to what had waked her; her next, that it was not so late as she had thought, for the noise at the ford still continued. more, it seemed increased. and even in the first moment of full consciousness which followed her waking daze, a sound grew out of all the noises of the village; a long mellow note, like the note of a deep-toned hunting-horn, vibrant yet steady, filling every cranny of the air. at once she knew it was this that had awakened her. it hung a moment, sweet, unearthly, haunting; and dropped back into an outburst of fierce clamor that leaped at it as hounds leap at a stag. eldris put out her hand and shook sosia. "sosia--waken! dost hear that strange sound? what is it? never have i heard such a sound before." she scrambled out of bed and went to the window, her feet shining white on the rough floor. she saw other faces appear at other windows and at doorways of dim hovels; there came black figures of men from lanes between the houses, running from the river-ford. the sharp clatter of the feet of a galloping horse clashed for a moment through other sounds. "it is but a drunken brawl," said sosia, sitting on the bed, a blanket about her bare shoulders. her tone was indifferent; drunken brawls were no new things on thorney. "come back to bed." "i think that something hath happened," said eldris, and started to dress. "dress thyself quickly, sosia, and let us go out to see. it is not so late--the moon hath not left the window." this was true, although the wide pool of light upon the floor had narrowed to a silver bar. but the room was lighted suddenly by a ruddy glare which leaped into it from without; a gust of voices swept beneath the window like the rising of a wind; there came the sound of many feet, as though a crowd had gathered before the house; cries, and the rattle of weapons. again eldris ran to the window. she cried over her shoulder in a frightened voice: "oh, blessed peter! there be armed men entering all the houses in the lane! haste thee, sosia--let them not find thee naked here. i will go down and see--" below, the voice of juncina cried: "we harbor no fugitive here, i tell thee! here be none but i and my two maids!" eldris, climbing down the ladder with hasty feet, saw that the room, fogged with gray smoke, was filled with half a score of men; saw juncina struggling in a corner, held by two; saw others overturning the scanty furniture, slashing with their swords at fish-nets and bedding, thrusting their torches into every nook and corner. she would have stumbled up the ladder again out of their sight, but a shout told her that she was seen. a great fellow seized her, dragging her from the ladder; in his grasp she fluttered like a rag caught in a briar. another pulled her from him; she was in the midst of mail-clad forms that towered over her, drink-flushed faces, brutal with greed, that leered down upon her, hairy hands that grasped at her. her captor she eluded, and another, her breath coming in dry sobs of terror; at her desperate doublings, like a frightened hare, their shouts of laughter told that the sport was very well to their liking. the doorway, close at hand, broken open and unguarded, offered a chance. she darted through it into the night, into another world of terror, in which sinister sounds met her on every side. in a blind panic of fright she ran, thinking at every step to feel a heavy hand upon her; in the narrow lane she ran, jostled by those who fled beside her. flames from burning houses threw their glare over fights which occurred in every street and lane, in which wounded men and dying crawled from beneath the feet of combatants into the shelter of black doorways. a band of horsemen galloped up the lane, overriding those who crossed their path, with shouts of "death to britons!" eldris saw them coming; saw the mouth of an alley black on one side, a slit between houses scarce wide enough for a horseman to ride through. she dived into it, stumbling now and again into the gutter which channelled it. she began to sob with fright and exhaustion as she ran. "lord, let me find him, or i die of fear! he will save me--with him shall i be safe. take me to him--let me find him, for my love is stronger than am i." fear swept her from all the rationalities to which she had clung; out of the tumult and the terror in which she struggled, love rose like a wave and claimed her--the passion which was stronger than she. god was very strong, without doubt; but without doubt also he had many souls to guard that night, and it was the strength of a man's arm she wanted. so she reached the end of the alley where it opened into the street of the fords, and crouched behind the elbow of a rambling wall, looking out warily, a hunted thing, to see if further faring might be safe. the broad paved street was lighted by flames from a house blazing fiercely opposite her; and figures ran to and fro before it like imps gone mad. other figures there were also, which lay very still upon the roadway in the crimson light, with their black shadows crouched behind them. there was a rending crackle from the heart of the fire, and shrieks and shouting from those around it; and under it all the dull roar from all thorney which never ceased. and quite suddenly eldris knew that she was listening to a sound that came out of the din around her, the sound of men's voices, singing in unison. in that hour and place it was to her more dreadful, more a thing of terror, than even the cries which it was drowning. the voices came nearer; and at that in them, for all her fear, the blood thrilled through her to her finger-tips. for in them was the very spirit of the fight, of lust and blood and fierce exultant triumph; barbaric and pagan, they were reckless with a pitiless pride which feared neither gods nor men nor devils. eldris crouched closer against the sheltering wall as though it had been a sentient thing to aid her. so she saw a line of men, on foot, approaching; and the line reached from side to side of the wide street. each man walked with arms across his fellows' shoulders; and their song kept time with their swift marching feet. the red light of the burning houses fell upon them, on their reckless faces, and glinted on their shirts of link-mail which clashed as they moved, on their crested caps of metal, and on the weapons which hung at their sides. they swept all before them as they came; plunderers left their work of outrage and slaughter and fell in with them, taking up their song. the first line passed; and eldris saw the reason of their triumph. for those in the rear dragged with them a prisoner, a small man, battered and bloody, with one arm hanging in a torn sling. she could not see his face, but her heart turned to water within her. the song sickened her with an overpowering sense of her own weakness against all that it signified of brutal male strength; it dominated her, and before it she shrank and shivered. but now her terror was not all for herself alone, but for that one who might be also in their hands, prisoner to them even as was this poor puppet prisoner. she started up, with a cry which was drowned in the rhythm of the terrible song as ever the cries of women have been drowned in the song of the fighting, and fell back in a huddle against the wall, with her face hidden on her knees, sobbing: "christ--oh, christ, save him! mary, save him, or let me die with him!" when she found her way back to life, thorney was wrapped in silence and illimitable gloom. the light of the burning houses had died; the shouts of men and shrieks of women and the fierce song of the saxons had ceased. yet there were other sounds which grew out of the darkness as she listened; a thin far wailing, like the ghost of grief, and close at hand a man's deep voice, very low, broken by sobbing. "soul of my heart, where art thou! all the night i have searched and cannot find thee, dead nor living. the curse of all evil be upon these saxon swine! they have slain her--my woman!--and she is dead! no more will she lie beside me when the dark swims in the hut.--o light of my life, could i but hear thee call me once again thy great ugly bear! eh, thy bear is a sad bear this night, my lamb!" eldris stumbled to her feet, covering her ears with her hands. she also was seeking and could not find. she started running from the dreadful sobbing voice, picking her way as best she might in the wreck and ruin of the saxons' trail. long she searched, and everywhere met others, also seeking, and yet others who had found what they had lost. torches flashed in and out like fireflies among the darkened lanes; from houses left unscathed came the wailing of women who had brought home their dead. the air was heavy with smoke, so that the eyes smarted and the throat stung. into the face of every man who passed her she looked with eager eyes of hope. every man's body that lay in street or lane she hovered over with caught breath and eyes of fear, nerving herself to stoop, to turn the dead weight that settled sullenly into itself as her hands left it; to scan the face by the light of her flaring torch. and the light showed her as ghastly as what she looked on; black hair streaming like smoke behind her, eyes wide with fear, pinched face glimmering pallid. no joyful handmaiden of love looked she, going to love's embraces, rather a wild thing, terror-ridden, possessed wholly by the frenzy of her love. strange faces she looked on in her search among the living and the dead; bearded faces, boyish faces, but never that face she sought. to a dead man's side she flitted, like a spirit of the night; and on her knees, holding her torch to a face with light staring eyes and open jaws that seemed still to shriek a last despairing curse at her, she caught her breath with a stifled scream. for the shock of thick hair, cut below the ears, was black and coarse; and the half-naked body, from which the tunic had been stripped, was long and lean. the torchlight cast quick shadows upon the fearful face; and sometimes to her eyes it was the face of her love, who had died terribly, and sometimes it was the face of a stranger. she began to shake. "i cannot tell--oh, god, i cannot tell!" she wailed. "is my mind gone, that i should not know thee? i must know--how can i go further until i know?" with wild eyes she looked about her. she was in the open space of the market-place,--alone, save for the thing at her feet, and for other things huddled here and there around her,--a silent battleground from which the hosts had departed. the carcass of a horse lay near, and her torch struck points of light from the metal of its trappings. a dog ran by her on padding feet, its fangs dripping, its tail between its legs. eldris thrust the torch into the earth, that it might stand erect. she knelt beside that silent screaming figure, and the light flashed from the white bared teeth of the open mouth, and showed dark smears of blood upon the face. she laid her hand on the shoulder, and the clammy cold of the dead flesh sent a spasm of sickness through her. "if it is thou i will kiss thee," she moaned. "i will lie upon thy breast and put my mouth to that mouth of thine. and i must find out--what if i should pass and leave thee here? god give me strength--i must find out! whose own mother could know him so?" she wiped blood from the face with the skirt of her tunic; she forced the stiffened jaws together, so that the horror took again the likeness to a human face; while her breath whistled in sobbing gasps and her flesh crept and crawled with horror. she bent and peered into the poor face that no longer seemed to scream at her, holding the jaws shut with tense and shaking hands. and then she sat back upon her heels with a strangled sob of relief and nerves far overwrought, wiping her hands furiously upon her skirt and crying: "it is not thou! dear christ in heaven! it is not thou! how thou wilt laugh when i tell thee, beloved--when i tell thee that a dead man screamed at me and i thought him thee! how thou wilt laugh--and i shall laugh with thee!" sobbing, she began to laugh, a laughter strange and cracked like the laugh of a very old woman, that mounted high and higher, welling from her throat as blood wells from a wound; and rocked herself to and fro and stared into the face of the dead stranger with wide eyes of unreason.... she took her torch and fled on, and the face that she had left behind seemed to scream its mockery with open jaws through the darkness after her. x nicanor was half way up the beach when the stationarius went down and his men fell upon the saxons. instantly, nothing loath, he found himself in the midst of the fighting. he was unarmed, save for his knife; so that his first thought was to get within the length of the long swords of those attacking him, since at close range, these, built for thrusting, were as good as useless. this was not easy to do, for the saxons, despite their bulk, were light upon their feet, and wary to keep their opponents at sufficient distance. but twice he did it, each time forcing his adversary to leave his sword-play and take to his dagger, the terrible seaxa which had won for the saxons their name. he went into battle joyously, cool-eyed, alert, heart and soul in the work ahead; yet ever with that other self within him, which stood apart as a spectator in the arena, and watched through the smoke and crimson light of battle the faces of those who fought,--the fierce delight of one, the black hate of another, red wounds, and the swift black swoop of death. his heart sang its high song of triumph which his lips would fain have echoed, of thanksgiving in the clean strength of his manhood, in the power of his arm, which could uphold his own before all men. he stooped to catch a sword from one who needed it no longer; and heard the soft clashing of links of mail beside him and felt the breath of a great horse that stirred his hair. above him the voice of ceawlin cried: "thou tale-teller, thee i seek! this is thy work--that dead-eyed toad is gone, but it is thou shalt pay the price for him!" he straightened up, the sword in hand, a laugh upon his lips; and a bolt of red fire entered into his side and seared him to the vitals. he fell; and the horse's tread jarred him and shook the world as it passed, spurred by its mail-clad rider with the blood-tinged spear. at first he fought to keep his hold on consciousness; knew that the fight surged over and around him, but with those who fought he seemed suddenly to have no part nor lot. they faded into spectres, beings somehow set apart from him, in whose affairs he no longer had concern. he lay quiet, his eyes closed, the red flower behind his ear, the red flower of his life staining the trampled sands on which he lay. quite suddenly he drifted into a gray empty world of twilight, in which he wandered seeking for what he did not know. he became aware, presently, that on the other side of this world, at the end of the road of time, there was a little narrow door which would lead him into his garden of lost dreams, and he thought that if he might reach it, all would be very well with him. but across the world, from out the twilight, there appeared a tiny point of light, ever growing, ever brighter. it came upon him as a rolling ball of fire, and he turned and would have fled from it; but it enveloped him in rose-red light that burned and blinded, and he knew that it was pain. it lapped over him like water; it shrivelled him, soul and body; it entered into the marrow of his bones and twisted him in every joint and sinew. and suddenly he found his soul following the fight into the streets of thorney; he was plunged amid the slaughter, in the smoke of burning houses. yet through it all he knew, with strange inner knowledge drawn from the deeps below consciousness, that his soul was in his body, lying quiet on the sands in the dark and moonlight, and that the fight had passed him by. out of the flame-shot darkness of his oblivion a sound came to him; and the devil-lights that danced before his eyes ceased their wheeling to listen--a bell, deep-throated, majestic, that tolled once, and out of its sonorous, slow throbbing that lingered in the air, a voice intoning. "_ave maria, gratia plena._" the bell-note boomed again. "_benedicta tu in mulieribus._" again the heavy clanging shook the air. "_sancta maria, mater dei, ora pro nobis, nunc et in hora mortis nostrae!_" the voice drifted from him; yet the air seemed alive with the vibrations of the words. "_ora pro nobis!_" who was the mary full of grace who could pray for one, to whom one could call as men called upon the gods? who but the mother of jesus, the little brother of the world, sweet comrade of his black and bitter hour? he smiled as one who hears names well known and well beloved. "_nunc et in hora mortis nostræ!_" who was that mortal one for whom priests prayed in the silence before the dawning, for whom the hour of death was striking in the tolling of the bell? "in the hour of our death"--not one death only was prayed for, but all deaths. but then the words took upon themselves new and startling meaning. he knew that the hour had struck for him also in the great bell's voice; was that prayer for his death among all others--for his, the pagan's? with sudden lonely longing he wished it might be so, as one who starts upon a journey wishes for a friendly voice, a handclasp, for farewell. would mary pray for him; would the little brother bring him solace as in that bitter time before? if this were so, could not one go down into death, as one had gone through life, with a song upon his lips? what, after all, was death? for the first time the question of life was launched at him from the vastness of infinity; and he, poor atom of mortality, with his bright tongue and his groping heart, his longings, his hopes and fears and ignorances, was called upon to answer. was it full of terrors, the terrors at which men hinted and dared not speak? he knew that he was not afraid. was it lonely? he did not feel alone. but his thoughts were fluttering from him like birds rising from the grass; slowly darkness closed above him, in which he struggled as a drowning man to keep his head above the waters. again he stood upon the edge of the gray twilight land, and saw that something was coming to him--a mist of light, cool and pure as pearl. it grew, and out of it there looked down on him a face, young and fair and tender, with holy eyes. it was the face of his lost lady, yet her face transfigured as his eyes had never seen it,--the same and not the same. the mist grew brighter and he saw that in her arms there lay a babe that leaned its head against her breast and smiled at all the world. at once he knew them for his dream made manifest, and his face lightened to adoration. "o best beloved!" he whispered, "how mine eyes have hungered for thee in the dark days that are gone over! my lips would sing unto thee even as my heart is singing, but my tongue is black within my throat. i have found that who would seek for peace must pass through pain, and when pain hath ended, peace shall come. when therefore it cometh to my body, as it hath come upon my soul, then i shall sing my song to thee,--my song, which thou and little jesus did teach me how to make, i will sing to-morrow when the moon shines on the fountains, in the garden." his voice died; he saw his lady lean to him from her mist of rose and pearl; cool as the dews of morning he felt her hand upon his head. very softly then his fever left him; love's touch soothed the red flame of pain that ate his life away, as in the long ago love's touch had stilled the bitter soul within him. he smiled happily, for that soul's pain and body's pain had brought heart's peace. with no surprise, he knew that he had found the answer. "i think it is the door of the garden," he said clearly. x a keen sweet wind blew over the world, first pure breath of the coming day, driving before it the reek of smoke and blood and death which hovered over thorney as a pall. a tinge of gray light diffused itself like mist through the darkness; in this mist the forms of people wandered like dim restless ghosts seeking the graves from which the night had called them. out of the stillness which had succeeded to the turmoil of the night, cocks began to crow, a homely sound, as though this dawning held no difference from the peaceful morn of yesterday. the ripples of the river woke, gurgling like a happy child that laughs itself out of dreams. eldris came out upon the beach from between the rows of tottering houses. she cast away her torch and stretched her hands to the east, where momently the earth was turning from black to gray, steeped in a haze as of twilight, the strange half-light of dawn. "o day, come swiftly and give me back my own! i shall put my hands upon his breast and say, 'take me, for i am all, all thine and love's, and where thou goest there will i go also, for my god is love. i am only woman, and weak and very weary, and i love thee. ah, dear god! i would leave heaven and all the angels for thine arms!' and he will take me in his arms, and i shall fear nothing any more. o day, come swiftly!" along the beach she hastened, light-footed, and came to the lumber-pile, with no more than a glance for the roman soldier who lay upon it, his duty done. and so, behind the lumber-pile, with but a strip of gray sand between his bed and the broad river, she found him, with the dawn-light upon his face. as once before she had gone to him and knelt beside him as he slept, so she thought to go to him again. but this time she would not fear to wake him, for he, her lord, had called her, and her delight was to obey. she had come to yield herself his, body and soul forever, and in her face the bridal joy outshone the bridal terror. she would do this and that; thought to play with her joy to taste the sweetness of its savor; but suddenly all her thought was lost in the flood of love triumphant which rose to overwhelm her. she ran forward, her arms outflung to him, crying: "beloved, wake, for i am come to thee! all my soul is a flame of fire, and the fire is love which blindeth me to all in earth and heaven save only thee. wilt thou not wake and take me?" on her knees she threw herself beside him. but he did not move, nor did he speak in answer. and even in the moment of her exaltation, eldris understood. her words broke; an instant she knelt with arms outstretched above him; she ceased to breathe, and her face froze into lines of stone. but suddenly she gave a cry, loud and sharp, and her hands fell upon him. her eyes awoke into living terror; with desperate fingers she strove to turn his face further to the light. at the weight of him she shook and shuddered; she had felt that horrible dead weight before, that sullen settling into itself of his bulk as her hands left it. in the gray light of the slow dawning she turned his face toward her, gray, and smiling, and still. she looked down upon him and put her hands to her throat. "i am glad, ay, glad, that thy mouth is not open and screaming at me!" she said aloud, in a dead voice. the sense of her words smote her, and she closed her eyes with a long-drawn whispering moan. again she looked at him, scarcely believing; and once more the flood overwhelmed her. she wrung her hands and brought them down before her face. "oh, god, is this thy punishment for that i said my god was love? very well--punish thou me, then--what canst thou do that matters now?" her voice faltered; she lowered her hands to stroke the hair from his pale forehead. she sat upon the sands and drew his heavy head to her knees, and her voice sank to the crooning of a woman with her man-child that is dead. "i am too late--too late--too late! in mine ears was the wailing of the women in empty houses--how knew i that my voice must cry among them? my love, that liest so quiet at my knee, thou art gone very far from me, and all my tears and pleading may not call thee back. o pale lips sealed forever, all thy magic dumb within thee, give me of thy power that i may mourn my love! o wandering feet that have strayed in lands of bright enchantment, thou walkest in the dim paths of the twilight places, and i would that my feet might follow! o strong hands that have wrought the work of men, why dost thou not answer to the clinging of my fingers? o heart that camest through bitter waters, was it good to rest? i and old sorrow walk hand in hand; for the red flower of my lover's life which is withered here, we shall cover him with lilies. the young men and the maidens shall walk softly; the old shall mourn him saying 'eheu! it is not well for the young to go before us.' and i--what is there that i may say? dead--dead--dead--and my heart is breaking--ah! bitter woe is mine! o ye elder gods, would ye have been more kind than the one who hath torn him from me?" she bent over him so that her tears fell warm upon his face and the veil of her hair shrouded him; she kissed his lips as though she would breathe her own life into him. "this my bridal kiss i give thee, o nicanor, o my dear!--here on thy mouth, and thou canst never know--god have pity!--thou canst never know! thy lips are cold--so cold--thou art all cold, and even my bosom may not warm thee. my love, who didst die with a flower in thy hair and a smile upon thy lips, why is thy face so bright with triumph? peace lieth upon thee as a garment.... o nicanor, nicanor, give me of thy peace!" there fell a voice upon her weeping: "my daughter, what dost thou here?" thin-faced father ambrose stood before her, very gentle, very old, from saint peter's church within the wall. on his arm he bore a basket filled with simple dressings; his brown frock, up-kilted, was stained with blood and mire. perhaps all night he had done his work of mercy among the dying and the dead. "i have found him!" said eldris. she swept back her hair with one arm, showing her sorrow. the priest knelt, touching here and there with skilful fingers. "is it not he whom men called nicanor? nay, daughter, weep not so bitterly! is it not the death he would have chosen, being man? we have heard of him; we have seen that his power he hath striven to use for good, so that many loved him; we have thought that in god's own time the light would come upon him and he should be baptized into the faith." but eldris broke in fiercely: "ye have heard--ye have seen--ye have thought--but can ye give him back to me? i knew not your god was a cruel god; ye have taught that he is the father of all mercy and all love. what mercy is there in this that he hath done? i am christian, for i wished to seek love from that god that is thy god; and this my love did i try to make christian also. but since god hath done this thing unto him and me, i am glad that he was not christian and hath not gone to god!" father ambrose looked down upon her, smiling, and his face was holy. "i think he was a better christian than art thou, dear child, even though he did not know it. can one be christian, for all he cries 'god, god!' if he have not christ within his heart as well as on his lips? what is a christian, save one who dealeth gently, liveth cleanly, giveth of himself? and such an one, i think, whether he professeth all gods or no god, will our father call 'my son.' long have i lived, and very much have i seen, and i think that this is so." he paused. eldris's sobbing alone made answer. "daughter, thou sayest thou art glad he hath not gone to god. loving him, wouldst thou not rather think of him with god than wandering lonely in the outer darkness?" but eldris flung out her hands with a bitter cry. "nay--nay--oh, lord christ, not that! i cannot bear to think he wanders lonely, as all his life he hath been lonely--anything but that! what have i said--what have i done! oh, father, father, he must not be lonely! pray thou that god will take him, even though he did not know! dear god, let him into heaven--do not thou be angered because he did not know! mary mother, pity him and let him not be lonely any more!" she stretched her hands in desolate appeal over the still face at her knee. father ambrose gathered them into his. "god hath taken him, dear child," he said gently. "out of his darkness hath he entered into light; and i think that it is well with him." a long time he looked down at the face that smiled in answer; at the long lithe limbs whose strength was dust. from his basket he took a cup, and went aside and filled it with water from the river, and offered it to god. returning, he knelt, and with the water signed the cross on the pale forehead and the broad pulseless breast. "so sign i and seal i thee with the cross of christ, that in his mercy thy lord may receive thy soul. 'peace i leave with you, my peace i give unto you. let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.'" he raised his hand, and eldris dropped her face to the rough black hair and sobbed. "the lord bless thee and keep thee. the lord make his face shine upon thee and be gracious unto thee. the lord lift up his countenance upon thee and give thee peace." his gentle voice ceased, and a moment the earth hung silent, awaiting the mystery of the dawn. then the red misty sun shot up over the hills on the east of thorney, and the bright new day was come. the end beric the briton a story of the roman invasion by g. a. henty preface. my dear lads, my series of stories dealing with the wars of england would be altogether incomplete did it not include the period when the romans were the masters of the country. the valour with which the natives of this island defended themselves was acknowledged by the roman historians, and it was only the superior discipline of the invaders that enabled them finally to triumph over the bravery and the superior physical strength of the britons. the roman conquest for the time was undoubtedly of immense advantage to the people--who had previously wasted their energies in perpetual tribal wars--as it introduced among them the civilization of rome. in the end, however, it proved disastrous to the islanders, who lost all their military virtues. having been defended from the savages of the north by the soldiers of rome, the britons were, when the legions were recalled, unable to offer any effectual resistance to the saxons, who, coming under the guise of friendship, speedily became their masters, imposing a yoke infinitely more burdensome than that of rome, and erasing almost every sign of the civilization that had been engrafted upon them. how far the british population disappeared under the subsequent invasion and the still more oppressive yoke of the danes is uncertain; but as the invaders would naturally desire to retain the people to cultivate the land for them, it is probable that the great mass of the britons were not exterminated. it is at any rate pleasant to believe that with the saxon, danish, and norman blood in our veins, there is still a large admixture of that of the valiant warriors who fought so bravely against caesar, and who rose under boadicea in a desperate effort to shake off the oppressive rule of rome. yours truly, g. a. henty chapter i: a hostage "it is a fair sight." "it may be a fair sight in a roman's eyes, beric, but nought could be fouler to those of a briton. to me every one of those blocks of brick and stone weighs down and helps to hold in bondage this land of ours; while that temple they have dared to rear to their gods, in celebration of their having conquered britain, is an insult and a lie. we are not conquered yet, as they will some day know to their cost. we are silent, we wait, but we do not admit that we are conquered." "i agree with you there. we have never fairly tried our strength against them. these wretched divisions have always prevented our making an effort to gather; cassivelaunus and some of the kentish tribes alone opposed them at their first landing, and he was betrayed and abandoned by the tribes on the north of the thames. it has been the same thing ever since. we fight piecemeal; and while the romans hurl their whole strength against one tribe the others look on with folded hands. who aided the trinobantes when the romans defeated them and established themselves on that hill? no one. they will eat britain up bit by bit." "then you like them no better for having lived among them, beric?" "i like them more, but i fear them more. one cannot be four years among them, as i was, without seeing that in many respects we might copy them with advantage. they are a great people. compare their splendid mansions and their regular orderly life, their manners and their ways, with our rough huts, and our feasts, ending as often as not with quarrels and brawls. look at their arts, their power of turning stone into lifelike figures, and above all, the way in which they can transfer their thoughts to white leaves, so that others, many many years hence, can read them and know all that was passing, and what men thought and did in the long bygone. truly it is marvellous." "you are half romanized, beric," his companion said roughly. "i think not," the other said quietly; "i should be worse than a fool had i lived, as i have done, a hostage among them for four years without seeing that there is much to admire, much that we could imitate with advantage, in their life and ways; but there is no reason because they are wiser and far more polished, and in many respects a greater people than we, that they should come here to be our masters. these things are desirable, but they are as nothing to freedom. i have said that i like them more for being among them. i like them more for many reasons. they are grave and courteous in their manner to each other; they obey their own laws; every man has his rights; and while all yield obedience to their superiors, the superiors respect the rights of those below them. the highest among them cannot touch the property or the life of the lowest in rank. all this seems to me excellent; but then, on the other hand, my blood boils in my veins at the contempt in which they hold us; at their greed, their rapacity, their brutality, their denial to us of all rights. in their eyes we are but savages, but wild men, who may be useful for tilling the ground for them, but who, if troublesome, should be hunted down and slain like wild beasts. i admire them for what they can do; i respect them for their power and learning; but i hate them as our oppressors." "that is better, beric, much better. i had begun to fear that the grand houses and the splendour of these romans might have sapped your patriotism. i hate them all; i hate changes; i would live as we have always lived." "but you forget, boduoc, that we ourselves have not been standing still. though our long past forefathers, when they crossed from gaul wave after wave, were rude warriors, we have been learning ever since from gaul as the gauls have learned from the romans, and the romans themselves admit that we have advanced greatly since the days when, under their caesar, they first landed here. look at the town on the hill there. though 'tis roman now 'tis not changed so much from what it was under that great king cunobeline, while his people had knowledge of many things of which we and the other tribes of the iceni knew nothing." "what good did it do them?" the other asked scornfully; "they lie prostrate under the roman yoke. it was easy to destroy their towns while we, who have few towns to destroy, live comparatively free. look across at camalodunum, cunobeline's capital. where are the men who built the houses, who dressed in soft garments, who aped the romans, and who regarded us as well nigh savage men? gone every one of them; hewn down on their own hearthstones, or thrust out with their wives and families to wander homeless--is there one left of them in yonder town? their houses they were so proud of, their cultivated fields, their wealth of all kinds has been seized by the romans. did they fight any better for their roman fashions? not they; the kingdom of cunobeline, from the thames to the western sea, fell to pieces at a touch and it was only among the wild silures that caractacus was able to make any great resistance." "but we did no better, boduoc; ostorius crushed us as easily as claudius crushed the trinobantes. it is no use our setting ourselves against change. all that you urge against the trinobantes and the tribes of kent the silures might urge with equal force against us. you must remember that we were like them not so many ages back. the intercourse of the gauls with us on this eastern sea coast, and with the kentish tribes, has changed us greatly. we are no longer, like the western tribes, mere hunters living in shelters of boughs and roaming the forests. our dress, with our long mantles, our loose vests and trousers, differs as widely from that of these western tribes as it does from the romans. we live in towns, and if our houses are rude they are solid. we no longer depend solely on the chase, but till the ground and have our herds of cattle. i daresay there were many of our ancestors who set themselves as much against the gaulish customs as you do against those of the romans; but we adopted them, and benefited by them, and though i would exult in seeing the last roman driven from our land, i should like after their departure to see us adopt what is good and orderly and decent in their customs and laws." beric's companion growled a malediction upon everything roman. "there is one thing certain," he said after a pause, "either they must go altogether, not only here but everywhere--they must learn, as our ancestors taught them at their two first invasions, that it is hopeless to conquer britain--or they will end by being absolute masters of the island, and we shall be their servants and slaves." "that is true enough," beric agreed; "but to conquer we must be united, and not only united but steadfast. of course i have learned much of them while i have been with them. i have come to speak their language, and have listened to their talk. it is not only the romans who are here whom we have to defeat, it is those who will come after them. the power of rome is great; how great we cannot tell, but it is wonderful and almost inconceivable. they have spread over vast countries, reducing peoples everywhere under their dominion. i have seen what they call maps showing the world as far as they know it, and well nigh all has been conquered by them; but the farther away from rome the more difficulty have they in holding what they have conquered. "that is our hope here; we are very far from rome. they may send army after army against us, but in time they will get weary of the loss and expense when there is so little to gain, and as after their first invasions a long time elapsed before they again troubled us, so in the end they may abandon a useless enterprise. even now the romans grumble at what they call their exile, but they are obstinate and tenacious, and to rid our land of them for good it would be necessary for us not only to be united among ourselves when we rise against them, but to remain so, and to oppose with our whole force the fresh armies they will bring against us. "you know how great the difficulties will be, boduoc; we want one great leader whom all the tribes will follow, just as all the roman legions obey one general; and what chance is there of such a man arising--a man so great, so wise, so brave, that all the tribes of britain will lay aside their enmities and jealousies, and submit themselves to his absolute guidance?" "if we wait for that, beric, we may wait for ever," boduoc said in a sombre tone, "at any rate it is not while we are tranquil under the roman heel that such a man could show himself. if he is to come to the front it must be in the day of battle. then, possibly, one chief may rise so high above his fellows that all may recognize his merits and agree to follow him." "that is so," beric agreed; "but is it possible that even the greatest hero should find support from all? cassivelaunus was betrayed by the trinobantes. who could have united the tribes more than the sons of cunobeline, who reigned over well nigh all britain, and who was a great king ruling wisely and well, and doing all in his power to raise and advance the people; and yet, when the hour came, the kingdom broke up into pieces. veric, the chief of the cantii, went to rome and invited the invader to aid him against his rivals at home, and not a man of the iceni or the brigantes marched to the aid of caractacus and togodamnus. what wonder, then, that these were defeated. worse than all, when caractacus was driven a fugitive to hide among the brigantes, did not their queen, cartismandua, hand him over to the romans? where can we hope to find a leader more fitted to unite us than was caractacus, the son of the king whom we all, at least, recognized and paid tribute to; a prince who had learned wisdom from a wise father, a warrior enterprising, bold, and indomitable--a true patriot? "if caractacus could not unite us, what hope is there of finding another who would do so? moreover, our position is far worse now than it was ten years ago. the belgae and dumnonii in the southwest have been crushed after thirty battles; the dobuni in the centre have been defeated and garrisoned; the silures have set an example to us all, inflicting many defeats on the romans; but their power has at last been broken. the brigantes and ourselves have both been heavily struck, as we deserved, boduoc, for standing aloof from caractacus at first. thus the task of shaking off the roman bonds is far more difficult now than it was when plautius landed here twenty years ago. well, it is time for me to be going on. won't you come with me, boduoc?" "not i, beric; i never want to enter their town again save with a sword in one hand and a torch in the other. it enrages me to see the airs of superiority they give themselves. they scarce seem even to see us as we walk in their streets; and as to the soldiers as they stride along with helmet and shield, my fingers itch to meet them in the forest. no; i promised to walk so far with you, but i go no farther. how long will you be there?" "two hours at most, i should say." "the sun is halfway down, beric; i will wait for you till it touches that hill over there. till then you will find me sitting by the first tree at the spot where we left the forest." beric nodded and walked on towards the town. the lad, for he was not yet sixteen, was the son of parta, the chieftainess of one of the divisions of the great tribe of the iceni, who occupied the tract of country now known as suffolk, norfolk, cambridge, and huntingdon. this tribe had yielded but a nominal allegiance to cunobeline, and had held aloof during the struggle between caractacus and the romans, but when the latter had attempted to establish forts in their country they had taken up arms. ostorius scapula, the roman proprietor, had marched against them and defeated them with great slaughter, and they had submitted to the roman authority. the sarci, the division of the tribe to which beric belonged, had taken a leading part in the rising, and his father had fallen in the defence of their intrenchments. among the british tribes the women ranked with the men, and even when married the wife was often the acknowledged chief of the tribe. parta had held an equal authority with her husband, and at his death remained sole head of the subtribe, and in order to ensure its obedience in the future, ostorius had insisted that her only son beric, at that time a boy of eleven, should be handed over to them as a hostage. had parta consulted her own wishes she would have retired with a few followers to the swamps and fens of the country to the north rather than surrender her son, but the brigantes, who inhabited lincolnshire, and who ranged over the whole of the north of britain as far as northumberland, had also received a defeat at the hands of the romans, and might not improbably hand her over upon their demand. she therefore resigned herself to let beric go. "my son," she said, "i need not tell you not to let them romanize you. you have been brought up to hate them. your father has fallen before their weapons, half your tribe have been slain, your country lies under their feet. i will not wrong you then by fearing for a moment that they can make a roman of you. "you have been brought up to lie upon the bare ground, to suffer fatigue and hardship, hunger and thirst, and the rich food and splendid houses and soft raiment of the romans should have no attraction for you. i know not how long your imprisonment among them may last. for the present i have little hope of another rising; but should i see a prospect of anything like unity among our people, i will send boduoc with a message to you to hold yourself in readiness to escape when you receive the signal that the time has come. till then employ your mind in gaining what good you may by your residence among them; there must be some advantage in their methods of warfare which has enabled the people of one city to conquer the world. "it is not their strength, for they are but pigmies to us. we stand a full head above them, and even we women are stronger than roman soldiers, and yet they defeat us. learn then their language, throw your whole mind into that at first, then study their military discipline and their laws. it must be the last as much as their discipline that has made them rulers over so vast an empire. find out if you can the secret of their rule, and study the training by which their soldiers move and fight as if bound together by a cord, forming massive walls against which we break ourselves in vain. heed not their arts, pay no attention to their luxuries, these did cunobeline no good, and did not for a day delay the destruction that fell upon his kingdom. what we need is first a knowledge of their military tactics, so that we may drive them from the land; secondly, a knowledge of their laws, that we may rule ourselves wisely after they have gone. what there is good in the rest may come in time. "however kind they may be to you, bear always in mind that you are but a prisoner among the oppressors of your country, and that though, for reasons of policy, they may treat you well, yet that they mercilessly despoil and ill treat your countrymen. remember too, beric, that the britons, now that caractacus has been sent a prisoner to rome, need a leader, one who is not only brave and valiant in the fight, but who can teach the people how to march to victory, and can order and rule them well afterwards. we are part of one of our greatest tribes, and from among us, if anywhere, such a leader should come. "i have great hopes of you, beric. i know that you are brave, for single handed you slew with an arrow a great wolf the other day; but bravery is common to all, i do not think that there is a coward in the tribe. i believe you are intelligent. i consulted the old druid in the forest last week, and he prophesied a high destiny for you; and when the messenger brought the roman summons for me to deliver you up as a hostage, it seemed to me that this was of all things the one that would fit you best for future rule. i am not ambitious for you, beric. it would be nought to me if you were king of all the britons. it is of our country that i think. we need a great leader, and my prayer to the gods is that one may be found. if you should be the man so much the better; but if not, let it be another. comport yourself among them independently, as one who will some day be chief of a british tribe, but be not sullen or obstinate. mix freely with them, learn their language, gather what are the laws under which they live, see how they build those wonderful houses of theirs, watch the soldiers at their exercises, so that when you return among us you can train the sarci to fight in a similar manner. keep the one purpose always in your mind. exercise your muscles daily, for among us no man can lead who is not as strong and as brave as the best who follow him. bear yourself so that you shall be in good favour with all men." beric had, to the best of his power, carried out the instructions of his mother. it was the object of the romans always to win over their adversaries if possible, and the boy had no reason to complain of his treatment. he was placed in the charge of caius muro, commander of a legion, and a slave was at once appointed to teach him latin. he took his meals with the scribe and steward of the household, for caius was of noble family, of considerable wealth, and his house was one of the finest in camalodunum. he was a kindly and just man, and much beloved by his troops. as soon as beric had learned the language, caius ordered the scribe to teach him the elements of roman law, and a decurion was ordered to take him in hand and instruct him in arms. as beric was alike eager to study and to exercise in arms, he gained the approval of both his teachers. julia, the wife of caius, a kindly lady, took a great fancy to the boy. "he will make a fine man, caius," she said one day when the boy was fourteen years old. "see how handsome and strong he is; why, scipio, the son of the centurion metellus, is older by two years, and yet he is less strong than this young briton." "they are a fine race, julia, though in disposition as fierce as wild cats, and not to be trusted. but the lad is, as you say, strong and nimble. i marked him practising with the sword the other day against lucinus, who is a stout soldier, and the man had as much as he could do to hold his own against him. i was surprised myself to see how well he wielded a sword of full weight, and how active he was. the contest reminded me of a dog and a wild cat, so nimble were the boy's springs, and so fierce his attacks. lucinus fairly lost his temper at last, and i stopped the fight, for although they fought with blunted weapons, he might well have injured the lad badly with a downright cut, and that would have meant trouble with the iceni again." "he is intelligent, too," julia replied. "sometimes i have him in while i am working with the two slave girls, and he will stand for hours asking me questions about rome, and about our manners and customs." "one is never sure of these tamed wolves," caius said; "sometimes they turn out valuable allies and assistants, at other times they grow into formidable foes, all the more dangerous for what they have learned of us. however, do with him as you like, julia; a woman has a lighter hand than a man, and you are more likely to tame him than we are. cneius says that he is very eager to learn, and has ever a book in his hand when not practising in arms." "what i like most in him," julia said, "is that he is very fond of our little berenice. the child has taken to him wonderfully, and of an afternoon, when he has finished with cneius, she often goes out with him. of course old lucia goes with them. it is funny to hear them on a wet day, when they cannot go out, talking together--she telling him stories of rome and of our kings and consuls, and he telling her tales of hunting the wolf and wild boar, and legends of his people, who seem to have been always at war with someone." after beric had resided for three years and a half at camalodunum a great grief fell on the family of caius muro, for the damp airs from the valley had long affected julia and she gradually faded and died. beric felt the loss very keenly, for she had been uniformly kind to him. a year later suetonius and the governor of the colony decided that as the sarci had now been quiet for nearly five years, and as caius reported that their young chief seemed to have become thoroughly romanized, he was permitted to return to his tribe. the present was his first visit to the colony since he had left it four months before. his companion, boduoc, was one of the tribesmen, a young man six years his senior. he was related to his mother, and had been his companion in his childish days, teaching him woodcraft, and to throw the javelin and use the sword. together, before beric went as hostage, they had wandered through the forest and hunted the wolf and wild boar, and at that time boduoc had stood in the relation of an elder brother to beric. that relation had now much changed. although boduoc was a powerful young man and beric but a sturdy stripling, the former was little better than an untutored savage, and he looked with great respect upon beric both as his chief and as possessing knowledge that seemed to him to be amazing. hating the romans blindly he had trembled lest he should find beric on his return completely romanized. he had many times, during the lad's stay at camalodunum, carried messages to him there from his mother, and had sorrowfully shaken his head on his way back through the forest as he thought of his young chief's surroundings. beric had partially adopted the roman costume, and to hear him talking and jesting in their own language to the occupants of the mansion, whose grandeur and appointments filled boduoc with an almost superstitious fear, was terrible to him. however, his loyalty to beric prevented him from breathing a word in the tribe as to his fears, and he was delighted to find the young chief return home in british garb, and to discover that although his views of the romans differed widely from his own, he was still british at heart, and held firmly the opinion that the only hope for the freedom of britain was the entire expulsion of the invaders. he was gratified to find that beric had become by no means what he considered effeminate. he was built strongly and massively, as might be expected from such parents, and was of the true british type, that had so surprised the romans at their first coming among them, possessing great height and muscular power, together with an activity promoted by constant exercise. beric had fallen back upon the customs of his people as thoroughly as if he had never dwelt in the stately roman town. he was as ready as before to undertake the longest hunting expeditions, to sleep in the forest, to go from sunrise to sunset without breaking his fast. when not engaged in hunting he practised incessantly hurling the javelin and other warlike exercises, while of an evening he frequently related stories of roman history to any chiefs or other guests of his mother, on which occasions the humbler followers would gather thickly in the background, evincing an interest even greater than that which they felt in the songs and legends of the bards. beric generally chose stories relating to periods when rome was hardly pressed by her foes, showing how the intense feeling of patriotism, and the obstinate determination to resist, in spite of all dangers, upon the part of the population, and the discipline and dogged valour of the soldiers, saved her from destruction. he was cautious to draw no parallel openly to the case of britain. he knew that the romans were made acquainted, by traitors in their pay, with much that passed among the native tribes, and that at first they were sure to interest themselves in his proceedings. at present there could be no thought of a rising, and the slightest sign of disaffection might bring disaster and ruin upon his tribe. only when some unexpected event, some invasion of the rights of the britons even more flagrant than those that had hitherto taken place, should stir the smouldering fire of discontent, and fan it into a fierce flame of revolt from end to end of britain, could success be hoped for. no roman could have found fault with beric's relation of their prowess or their valour; for he held them up to the admiration of his hearers. "no wonder rome is great and powerful," he said, "when its people evince so deep a love of country, so resolute a determination in the face of their enemies, so unconquerable a spirit when misfortune weighs upon them." to the men he addressed all this was new. it was true that a few princes and chiefs had visited rome, occasionally as travellers desiring to see the centre of her greatness, more often as exiles driven from britain by defeat in civil strife, but these had only brought back great tales of rome's magnificence, and the britons knew nothing of the history of the invaders, and eagerly listened to the stories that beric had learned from their books in the course of his studies. the report of his stories spread so far that visits were paid to the village of parta by chiefs and leading men from other sections of the iceni to listen to them. oratory was among the britons, as among most primitive tribes, highly prized and much cultivated. oral tradition among such peoples takes the place of books among civilized nations. story and legend are handed down from father to son, and the wandering bard is a most welcome guest. next only to valour oratory sways and influences the minds of the people, and a ulysses had greater influence than an ajax. from his earliest childhood beric had listened to the stories and legends told by bards in the rough palace of his father, and his sole schooling before he went to camalodunum had been to learn these by heart, and to repeat them with due emphasis and appropriate gesture. his father had been one of the most eloquent and influential of the chiefs of the iceni, and had early impressed upon him the importance of cultivating the power of speech. his studies in roman history, too, had taught him the power exercised by men with the gift of moving multitudes by their words; he had learned from books how clearly and distinctly events could be described by a careful choice of words, and attention to form and expression, so that almost unconsciously to himself he had practised the art in his relations of the tales and legends of british history to berenice and her mother. thus, then, the manner no less than the matter of his recitals of roman story, gained him a high estimation among his hearers, and he was already looked upon as a young chief likely to rise to a very high position among the iceni. among the common herd his glowing laudations of roman patriotism, devotion, and sacrifice, caused him to be regarded with disfavour, and the epithet "the roman" was frequently applied to him. but the wiser spirits saw the hidden meaning of his stories, and that, while holding up the romans as an example, he was endeavouring to teach how much can be done by patriotism, by a spirit of self sacrifice, and by unity against a common foe. parta was also proud of the congratulations that distinguished chiefs, famed for their wisdom throughout the tribe, offered to her on the occasion of their visits. "beric will be a great chief," one of the wisest of these said to her; "truly his sojourn among the romans has done great things for him. it would be well, indeed, if every noble youth throughout the island were to have such schooling, if he had your son's wit in taking advantage of it. he will be a great orator; never among our bards have i heard narrations so clear and so well delivered; although the deeds he praises are those of our oppressors, one cannot but feel a thrill of enthusiasm as he tells them. yea, for the moment i myself felt half a roman when he told us of the brave youth who thrust his hand into the flames, and suffered it to be consumed in order to impress the invader with a knowledge of the spirit that animated the romans, and of the three men who held against a host the bridge that their friends were breaking down behind them. "if he could stir me thus by his tales of the deeds of our enemies, what will it be when some day he makes the heroes of britain his theme, and calls upon his countrymen to imitate their deeds! i have heard him called 'the roman,' parta. now that i have listened to him i know that he will, when the time comes, be one of rome's most formidable foes. i will tell you now that prasutagus, our king, and his queen boadicea, spoke to me about beric, and begged me to come hither to see for myself this youth of whom they had heard reports from others, some saying that he had returned a roman heart and soul, while others affirmed that, while he had learned much from them, he had forgotten nothing of the injuries he had received at their hands in the death of his father, and the disaster of the tribe. i shall know now what to tell them. to prasutagus, whose fear of the romans is even greater than his hatred for them, i shall say that the lad is full of the glories of roman story, and that there is no fear of his doing or saying aught that will excite the anger or suspicion of the romans. to boadicea, who hates the romans far more than she fears them, i shall tell the truth, and shall inform her that when the time comes, as assuredly it some day will, that the iceni are called upon to defend their liberties against rome, in beric she will find a champion of whom i predict that he will be worthy to take his place in our history by the side of caractacus and cassivelaunus. may our gods avert that, like them, he fall a victim to british treachery!" after leaving boduoc, beric crossed the bridge built by the romans over the stour, and entered the city. camalodunum was the chief seat of the roman power in england. although but so short a time had elapsed since claudius had occupied it, it was already a large city. a comparatively small proportion, however, was roman work, but all bore the impress of roman art and civilization, for cunobeline, whose capital it had been, was a highly enlightened king, and had introduced roman ways and methods among his people. men instructed in their arts and architecture had been largely employed in the building of the town, and its edifices would have borne comparison with those in minor towns in the roman provinces. the conquerors, therefore, found much of their work done for them. the original possessors of the houses and of the highly cultivated lands lying round the town were ejected wholesale, and the romans, establishing themselves in their abodes and farms, then proceeded to add to, embellish, and fortify the town. the 2nd, 9th, and 14th legions were selected by claudius to found what was called the colony, and to take possession of the surrounding country. plautius was appointed propraetor, or governor, and establishing himself in the royal palace of cunobeline, his first step was to protect the city from renewed attacks by the britons. he accordingly erected vast works to the westward of the town, extending from the sea to the river, by which means he not only protected the city from attack, but gained, in case of an assault by overpowering numbers, the means of retiring safely to mersea island, lying a short distance from the shore. a council house and a tribunal were erected for the roman magistrates; temples, a theatre, and baths raised. the civilian population increased rapidly. architects, artists, and musicians, decorators, skilled artisans, and traders were attracted from the mainland to the rising city, which rapidly increased in wealth and importance. conspicuous on the most elevated position stood a temple erected to the honour of claudius, who was raised by the grateful legionaries to divine rank. so strong and populous was the city that the trinobantes, during the years that had elapsed since the romans took possession of it, remained passive under the yoke of their oppressors, and watched, without attempting to take part in them, the rising of the iceni and brigantes, the long and desperate war of the silures and ordovices under caractacus, and the reduction of the belgae and dumnonii from hampshire to cornwall by vespasian. yet, had their spirit remained unbroken, there was an opportunity for revenge, for a large part of the veteran legionaries had been withdrawn to take part in the struggle against the western tribes. the tribe had, however, been disarmed, and with camalodunum on the north, and the rising towns of london and verulamium on the south, they were cut off from other tribes, and could not hope for final success, unless the powerful iceni, who were still semi-independent, rose in the national cause. whether their easy defeat of this tribe soon after the occupation of camalodunum had rendered the romans contemptuous of their fighting powers, or that they deemed it wiser to subdue the southwest and west of england, and to strike a heavy blow at the brigantes to the north before interfering with a powerful tribe so close to their doors, is uncertain; but doubtless they felt that so long as prasutagus reigned there was little fear of trouble in that quarter, as that king protested himself the friend and ally of rome, and occupied himself wholly in acquiring wealth and adding to his personal possessions. the scene in camalodunum was a familiar one to beric. the streets were thronged with people. traders from gaul and italy, roman artisans and workmen, haughty legionaries with shield and helmet, civil officials, greek players, artists and decorators, native tribesmen, with the products of their fields or the spoils of the chase, walking with humble mien; and shopkeepers sitting at the open fronts of their houses, while their slaves called the attention of passersby to the merits of the goods. here were the rich products of eastern looms, there the cloths and linen of rome, further on a smith's shop in full work, beyond that a silversmith's, next door to which was a thriving trader who sold unguents and perfumes, dyes for the ladies' cheeks and pigments for their eyebrows, dainty requisites for the toilette, and perfumed soap. bakers and butchers, vendors of fish and game, of fruit, of eastern spices and flavourings abounded. druggists and dealers in dyes for clothing and in the pigments used in wall decorations and paintings were also to be found; and, in fact, this roman capital of a scarcely subjugated country contained all the appliances for luxury and comfort that could be found in the cities of the civilized provinces. the only shops at which beric paused were those of the armourers and of the scribes, at some of which were exhibited vellums with the writings of the greek and roman poets and historians; and beric muttered to himself, "if i am ever present at the sack of camalodunum these shall be my share of the spoil, and i fancy that no one is likely to dispute their possession with me." but he did not linger long. boduoc would be waiting for him, and he could not hurry over his visit, the first he had paid since his absence; therefore he pushed on, with scarce a glance at the stately temple of claudius, the magnificent baths or other public buildings, until he arrived at the villa of caius muro, which stood somewhat beyond the more crowded part of the town. chapter ii: city and forest the house of caius muro had been built six years before on the model of one owned by him in the tuscan hills. passing through the hall or vestibule, with its mosaic pavement, on which was the word of welcome, "salve!" beric entered the atrium, the principal apartment in the house. from each side, at a height of some twenty feet from the ground, extended a roof, the fall being slightly to the centre, where there was an aperture of about eight feet square. through this light and air made their way down to the apartment, the rainfall from the roofs and opening falling into a marble tank, called the impluvium, below the level of the floor, which was paved with squares of coloured marble. on either side of the atrium were the small sleeping chambers, the bed places being raised and covered with thick mats and rugs. the walls of the bed chambers as well as of the atrium were painted in black, with figures and landscapes in colour. on the centre of the side facing the vestibule was the tablinum, the apartment of caius muro himself. this formed his sitting room and study. the floor was raised about a foot above that of the atrium, and it was partly open both on that side and on the other, looking into the peristylium, so that, while at work, he commanded a view of all that was going on in the atrium and in the courtyard. in the centre of this was a fountain surrounded by plants. from the courtyard opened the triclinium, or dining room, and also rooms used as storerooms, kitchen, and the sleeping places of the slaves. at the back of the peristylium was the oecus, or state apartment, where caius received distinguished guests, and where, in the lifetime of julia, entertainments were given to the ladies of the colony. like the triclinium, this room was also partially open at both ends, affording the guests a view of the graceful fountain on the one side and of the garden on the other. in winter wooden frames, with heavy hangings, were erected across these openings and that of the tablinum, for the romans soon found the necessity for modifying the arrangements which, although well suited for an italian climate, were wholly unfit for that of britain. the opening in the centre of the atrium was then closed with an awning of oiled canvas, which admitted a certain amount of light to pass, but prevented the passage of rain and snow, and kept out much of the cold. there was a narrow passage between the atrium and the peristylium; this was called the fauces. above the chambers round the atrium was a second story, approached by a staircase from the peristylium; here were the apartments of the ladies and of the female slaves. as beric entered the atrium, a man, who was reading a roll of parchment, rose to his feet. "welcome, beric!" he said warmly. "all hail, preceptor!" the lad replied. "are all well here?" "all well, beric. we had looked to see you before, and berenice has been constantly asking me when you were coming." "i had been absent over four years, you see," beric replied, "and it was not easy to get away from home again. now i must speak to caius." he crossed the apartment, and stood at the entrance to the tablinum. caius looked up from a military treatise he was perusing. "ah, beric! it is you! i am glad to see you again, though i am sorry to observe that you have abandoned our fashions and taken to the native garb again." "it was necessary, caius," beric said. "i should have lost all influence with the tribe had i not laid aside my roman dress. as it is, they regard me with some doubt, as one too enamoured of roman customs." "we have heard of you, beric, and, indeed, report says that you speak well of us, and are already famous for your relations of our history." "i thought it well that my countrymen should know your great deeds," beric said, "and should see by what means you have come to rule the world. i received nought but kindness at your hands, and no prisoner's lot was ever made more easy than mine. to you and yours i am deeply grateful. if your people all behaved as kindly towards the natives of this country as you did to me, britain would be conquered without need of drawing sword from scabbard." "i know not that, beric; to rule, one should be strong as well as kind. still, as you know, i think that things might have been arranged far less harshly than they have been. it was needful that we should show ourselves to be masters; but i regret the harshness that has been too often used, and i would that not one of us here, from the governor down to the poorest soldier, was influenced by a desire for gain, but that each was animated, as he assuredly should be, only by a desire to uphold the glory and power of rome. but that would be expecting too much from human nature, and even among you there are plenty ready to side against their countrymen for the sake of roman gold. in that they have less excuse than we. custom and habit have made our wants many, and all aim at attaining the luxuries of the rich. on the other hand, your wants are few, and i see not that the piling up of wealth adds in any way to your happiness." "that is true, caius. i quite agree with you that it is far more excusable for a roman to covet wealth than for a briton; and while i blame many officials and soldiers for the harshness with which they strive to wring all their possessions from my countrymen, i deem their conduct as worthy and honourable when compared with that of britons who sell their country for your gold." "we must take the world as we find it, beric. we may regret that greed and the love of luxury should influence men, as we may grieve that they are victims of other base passions; but it is of no use quarrelling with human nature. certain it is that all vices bring their own punishment, and that the romans were a far nobler race when they were poor and simple, in the days of the early consuls, than they are now, with all their power, their riches, and their luxuries. such is the history of all peoples--of egypt, of persia, of greece, and carthage; and methinks that rome, too, will run the course of other nations, and that some day, far distant maybe, she will sink beneath the weight of her power and her luxury, and that some younger and more vigorous people will, bit by bit, wrest her dominions from her and rule in her place. "as yet, happily, i see no signs of failing in her powers. she is still vigorous, and even in the distant outskirts of the empire the wave of conquest flows onward. happily for us, i think, it can flow no farther this way; there is but one island beyond this to conquer, and then, as in western gaul and iberia, the ocean says to rome, 'thou shalt go no farther.' would that to the south, the east, and north a similar barrier checked our progress, then we could rest and be content, and need no longer waste our strength in fresh conquests, or in opposing the incursions of hordes of barbarians from regions unknown to us even by report. i could wish myself, beric, that nature had placed your island five days' sail from the coasts of gaul, instead of placing it within sight. then i might have been enjoying life in my villa among the tuscan hills with my daughter, instead of being exposed at any moment to march with the legion against the savage mountaineers of the west. ah! here comes berenice," he broke off, as his daughter, attended by her old nurse, entered the atrium from the vestibule. she hastened her steps as she saw beric standing before her father in the tablinum. "i knew you would come back, beric, because you promised me; but you have been a long time in keeping your word." "i am not my own master at home, any more than i was here, berenice," he said, "and my mother would not hear before of my leaving her. i have only come now for an hour's visit, to see that all goes well in this house, and to tell you that i had not forgotten my promise; the next time i hope to pay a longer visit. at daybreak tomorrow we have a party to hunt the wolves, which have so multiplied as to become a danger in the forests of late." "i should like to go out to see a wolf hunt, beric." "i fear that would not be possible," he said; "the woods are thick and tangled, and we have to force our way through to get to their lair." "but last winter they came close to the town, and i heard that some came even into the streets." "yes, they will do so when driven by hunger; but they were hunting then and not being hunted. no, berenice, i fear that your wish to see a wolf hunt cannot be gratified; they are savage beasts, and are great trouble and no loss to us. in winter they carry off many children, and sometimes devour grown up people, and in times of long snow have been known to attack large parties, and, in spite of a stout resistance by the men, to devour them. in summer they are only met singly, but in winter they go in packs and kill numbers of our cattle." "i should like to go into the woods," the girl said earnestly, "i am tired of this town. my father says he will take me with him some day when he goes west, but so far i have seen nothing except this town and verulamium, and the country was all just as it is here, fields and cultivation. we could see the forests in the distance, but that was all. my father says, that if we went west, we should travel for miles through the forest and should sleep in tents, but that we cannot do it till everything is quiet and peaceful. oh, beric! i do wish the britons would not be always fighting." beric smiled. "the british girls, berenice, say they wish the romans would not be always fighting." "it is very troublesome," she said pettishly. "i should like everyone to be friends, and then there would be no need to have so many soldiers in britain, and perhaps the emperor would order our legions home. father says that we ought to look upon this as home now, for that the legion may remain here for years and years; but he said the other day that he thought that if everything was quiet here he should, when i am sixteen years old, obtain leave from the governor, and go back to rome for two or three years, and i think, though he has not said so outright, that he will perhaps retire and settle there." "it would be much the best for you," beric said earnestly. "i should be sorry, because you have been very kind to me, and i should grieve were you to leave me altogether; but there may be trouble here again some day, and i think it would be far better for you to be back in rome, where you would have all the pleasures and delights of the great capital, and live in ease and comfort, without the risk of your father having to march away to the wars. i know that if i were your father i would take you back. he says that his villa there is exactly like this, and you have many relations there, and there must be all sorts of pleasures and grand spectacles far beyond anything there is here. i am sure it would be better for you, and happier." "i thought that you would be quite sorry," she said gravely. "so i shall be very sorry for myself," beric said; "as, next to my own mother, there is no one i care for so much as you and your father. i shall miss you terribly; but yet i am so sure that it would be best for you to be at home with your own people, that i should be glad to hear that your father was going to take you back to rome." but berenice did not altogether accept the explanation. she felt really hurt that beric should view even the possibility of her going away with equanimity, and she very shortly went off to her own apartment; while a few minutes later, beric, after bidding goodbye to caius, started to rejoin boduoc, whom he found waiting at the edge of the forest. that evening berenice said to her father, "i was angry with beric today, father." "were you, child? what about?" "i told him that perhaps in another three years, when i was sixteen, you would take me to rome, and that i thought, perhaps, if we went there you would not come back again; and instead of being very much grieved, as i thought he would, he seemed quite pleased at the idea. of course he said he was sorry, but he did not really seem to be, and he says he thought it would be very much better for me. i thought he was grateful, father, and liked us very much, and now i am quite disappointed in him." caius was silent for a minute or two. "i do not think beric is ungrateful," he said, "and i am sure that he likes us, berenice." "he said he did, father, that he cared for us more than anyone except his mother; but if he cared for us, surely he would be very, very sorry for us to go away." "beric is a briton, my dear, and we are romans. by this time he must have thoroughly learned his people's feelings towards us. i have never believed, as some do, that britain is as yet completely conquered, and that when we have finished with the silures in the west our work will be completely done. "beric, who knows his countrymen, may feel this even more strongly than i do, and may know that, sooner or later, there will be another great effort on the part of the britons to drive us out. it may be a year, and it may be twenty, but i believe myself that some day we shall have a fierce struggle to maintain our hold here, and beric, who may see this also, and who knows the feeling of his countrymen, may wish that we should be away before the storm comes. "there is but little doubt, berenice, that we despise these people too much, still less that we treat them harshly and cruelly. were i propraetor of britain, i would rule them differently. i am but the commander of a legion, and my duty is but to rule my men. i would punish, and punish sternly, all attempts at rising; but i would give them no causes for discontent. we treat them as if their spirit were altogether broken, as if they and their possessions were but our chattels, as if they possessed no rights, not even the right to live. some day we shall find our mistake, and when the time comes the awakening will be a rude one. it is partly because i see dimly the storm gathering in the distance that i long to be home again. as long as your mother lived this seemed a home to me, now i desire rest and quiet. i have done my share of fighting, i have won honour enough, and i may look before long to be a general; but i have had enough of it, and long for my quiet villa in the alban hills, with an occasional visit to rome, where you can take part in its gaieties, and i can have the use of the libraries stored with the learning of the world. so do not think harshly of beric, my child; he may see the distant storm more plainly than i do. i am sure that he cares for us, and if he is glad at the news that we are going, it is because he wishes us away and in safety before the trouble comes. "nero has come to the imperial throne, and the men he is sending hither are of a widely different stamp from the lieutenants of claudius. the latter knew that the britons can fight, and that, wild and untutored as they are, it needed all the skill and courage of ostorius and vespasian to reduce them to order. the newcomers regard them as slaves to be trampled upon, robbed, and ill used as they choose. i am sure they will find their mistake. as long as they deal only with the tribes thoroughly subdued, the trinobantes, the cantii, the belgae, and the dumnonii, all may be quiet; they dare not move. but the iceni and brigantes, although they both have felt the weight of our swords, are still partly independent, and if pressed too severely will assuredly revolt, and if they give the signal all britain may be up in arms again. i am scoffed at if i venture to hint to these newcomers that there is life yet in britain. dwelling here in a roman city, it seems to them absurd that there can be danger from the savages who roam in the forests that stretch away from beyond the river at our very feet to the far distant north, to regions of which we are absolutely ignorant. i regard what beric has said as another warning." "but i thought that beric was our friend, father, and you told me you had heard that he was teaching his countrymen how great is our history." "beric is a briton in the midst of britons, child. he is a partially tamed wolf cub, and had he been sent to rome and remained there he would have done credit to our teaching. he is fond of study, and at the same time fond of arms; he might have turned out a wise citizen or a valiant soldier. but this was not done. he has gone back again among the wolves, and whatever his feelings towards us personally may be, he must side with his own people. did they suspect him of being roman at heart they would tear him in pieces. i believe that as he knows our strength, and that in the end we must conquer, his influence will always be on the side of peace; but if arms are taken up he will have no choice but to side with his countrymen, and should it be another ten years before the cloud bursts, he may be one of our most formidable opponents. don't blame him, child; he only shows his regard for you, by wishing you back safely in rome before trouble arises." "you are just in time, beric," boduoc said as the young chief joined him. "the sun is but a hand's breadth above that hill. here are your spear and sword where you hid them, though why you should have done it i know not, seeing that they have not yet ventured to order us to disarm." "and if they did we should not obey them, boduoc; but as the trinobantes have long been forbidden to carry arms, it might have caused trouble had i gone armed into the town, and we don't want trouble at present. i went on a peaceful visit, and there was no occasion for me to carry my weapons. but give me a piece of that deer flesh and an oaten cake; we have a long march before us." "why, did you not eat with them?" "no. i was, of course, invited, but i had but a short time to stop and did not wish it to seem as if i had come for a taste of roman dainties again." as soon as the meal was eaten they set out. it was but a track through the forest, for although the trees had been cleared away for a width of twenty feet there was but little traffic, for the road was seldom traversed, save by an occasional messenger from prasutagus. it had been used by the legions at the time that ostorius had built a line of forts stretching from the nen to the severn, and by it they had advanced when the iceni had risen; but from that time it had been unused by them, as the iceni had paid their tribute regularly, and held aloof from all hostile movements against them. prasutagus was always profuse in his assurance of friendship towards rome, and save that the roman officers visited his capital once a year to receive their tribute, they troubled but little about the iceni, having their hands occupied by their wars in the south and west, while their main road to the north ran far to the west of camalodunum. "we shall arrive about midnight," beric said as they strode along. "we may or we may not," boduoc said curtly. "what is to prevent us, boduoc?" "well, the wolves may prevent us, beric; we heard them howling several times as we came along this morning. the rapacious brutes have not been so bold for years, and it is high time that we hunted them down, or at any rate made our part of the country too hot to hold them. i told borgon before i started that if we did not return by an hour after midnight it would be because we had been obliged to take to a tree, and that he had better bring out a party at the first break of day to rescue us." "but we have never had any trouble of that kind while we have been hunting, boduoc." "no; but i think there must have been some great hunts up in norfolk, and that the brutes have come south. certain it is that there have in the last week been great complaints of them, and, as you know, it was for that reason that your mother ordered all the men of the tribe to assemble by tomorrow morning to make war against them. the people in the farms and villages are afraid to stay out after nightfall. no man with arms in his hands fears a wolf, or even two or three of them, in the daytime; but when they are in packs they are formidable assailants, even to a strong party. things are getting as bad now as they were twenty years ago. my father has told me that during one hard winter they destroyed full half our herds, and that hundreds of people were devoured by them. they had to erect stockades round the villages and drive in all the cattle, and half the men kept guard by turns, keeping great fires alight to frighten them away. when we have cleared the land of those two legged wolves the romans, we shall have to make a general war upon them, for truly they are becoming a perfect scourge to the land. it is not like the wild boar, of which there might with advantage be more, for they do but little harm, getting their food for the most part in the woods, and furnishing us with good eating as well as good sport. but the wolves give us nothing in return, and save for the sport no one would trouble to hunt them; and it is only by a general order for their destruction, or by the offer of a reward for their heads, that we shall get rid of them." "well, let us press on, boduoc. i would not that anything should occur to prevent us starting with the rest in the morning." "we are walking a good pace now," boduoc said, "and shall gain but little by going faster. one cannot run for six hours; and besides it is as much as we can do to walk fast in the dark. did we try to run we should like enough fall over a stump or root, and maybe not arrive there even though the wolves stopped us not." for two hours more they strode along. boduoc's eyes had been trained by many a long night spent among the woods, and dark as it was beneath the overarching trees, he was able to discern objects around him, and kept along in his regular stride as surely and almost as noiselessly as a wild beast; but the four years spent in the roman town had impaired beric's nocturnal vision; and though he had done much hunting since his return home, he was far from being able to use his eyes as his companion did, and he more than once stumbled over the roots that crossed the path. "you will be on your head presently," boduoc growled. "it is all very well for you, boduoc, who have the eyes of a cat; but you must remember we are travelling in the dark, and although i can make out the trunks on either hand the ground is all black to me, and i am walking quite at hazard." "it is not what i should call a light night," boduoc admitted. "well, no, considering that there is no moon, and that the clouds that were rising when the sun went down have overspread all the sky. i don't see that it could well be darker." "well we will stop at that hut in the little clearing, somewhere about half a mile on, and get a couple of torches. if you were to fall and twist your foot you would not be able to hunt tomorrow." "what is that?" beric exclaimed as a distant cry came to their ears. "i think it is the voice of a woman," boduoc said. "or maybe it is one of the spirits of evil." beric during his stay among the romans had lost faith in most of his superstitions. "nonsense, boduoc! it was the cry of a woman; it came from ahead. maybe some woman returning late has been attacked by wolves. come along," he shouted, and he started to run, followed reluctantly by his companion. "stop, beric, stop!" he said in a short time, "i hear other sounds." "so do i," beric agreed, but without checking his pace. "my eyes may be dull, boduoc, but they are not so dull as your ears. why, don't you know the snarling of wolves when you hear them?" again the loud cry of distress came on the night air. "they have not seized her yet," beric said. "her first cry would have been her last had they done so. she must be in that hut, boduoc, and they are trying to get at her. maybe her husband is away." "it is wolves," boduoc agreed in a tone of relief. "since that is all i am ready for them; but sword and spear are of no avail against the spirits of the air. we must be careful though, or instead of us attacking we may be attacked." beric paid no attention. they had as they passed the hut that morning stopped for a drink of water there, and he saw now before his eyes the tall comely young woman with a baby in her arms and two children hanging to her skirts. in a short time they stood at the edge of the little clearing by the side of the path. it was lighter here, and he could make out the outline of the rude hut, and, as he thought, that of many dark figures moving round it. a fierce growling and snarling rose from around the hut, with once or twice a sharp yell of pain. "there are half a dozen of them on the roof," boduoc said, "and a score or more round the hut. at present they haven't winded us, for the air is in our faces." "i think we had best make a rush at them, boduoc, shouting at the top of our voices as we go, and bidding the woman stand in readiness to unbar the door. they will be scared for a moment, not knowing how many of us there may be, and once inside we shall be safe from them." "let us get as near as we can before we begin to shout, beric. they may run back a few paces at our voice, but will speedily rally." holding their spears in readiness for action they ran forward. when within thirty yards of the hut boduoc raised his voice in a wild yell, beric adding his cry and then shouting, "unbar your door and stand to close it as we enter." there was, however, no occasion for haste. boduoc's sudden yell completely scared the wolves, and with whimpers of dismay they scattered in all directions. the door opened as beric and his companion came up, and they rushed in and closed it after them. a fire burned on the hearth. a dead wolf lay on the ground, the children crouched in terror on a pile of rushes, and a woman stood with a spear in her hand. "thanks to our country's gods you have come!" she said. "a few minutes later and all would have been over with me and my children. see, one has already made his way through the roof, and in half a dozen places they have scratched holes well nigh large enough to pass through." "we heard your cry," beric said, "and hastened forward at the top of our speed." "it was for you that i called," the woman said. "by what you said this morning i judged you would be returning about this hour, and it was in hopes you might hear me that i cried out, for i knew well that no one else would be likely to be within earshot." "where is your husband?" beric asked. "he started this afternoon for cardun. he and all the able bodied men were ordered to assemble there tonight in readiness to begin the war against the wolves at daybreak. there is no other house within a mile, and even had they heard me there they could have given me no assistance, seeing there are but women and children remaining behind." "they are coming again," boduoc broke in; "i can hear their feet pattering on the dead leaves. which shall we do, beric, pile more wood on the fire, or let it go out altogether? i think that we shall do better without it; it is from the roof that they will attack, and if we have a light here we cannot see them till they are ready to leap down; whereas, if we are in darkness we may be able to make them out when they approach the holes, or as they pass over any of the crevices." "i don't know, boduoc; i think we shall do better if we have light. we may not make them out so well, but at least we can use our spears better than we could in the dark, when we might strike them against the rafters or thick branches." the woman at once gathered some of the pieces of wood that had fallen through as the wolves made the holes and put them on the hearth, where they soon blazed up brightly. "i will take this big hole," boduoc said, "it is the only one by which they can come down at present. do you try and prevent them from enlarging any of the others." there was a sudden thump overhead, followed almost immediately by several others. "they get up by the wood pile," the woman said. "it is against that side of the hut, and reaches nearly up to the eaves." there was a sharp yell as boduoc thrust his spear up through the hole when he saw a pair of eyes, shining in the firelight, appear at the edge. at the same moment there was a sound of scraping and scratching at some of the other holes. the roof was constructed of rough poles laid at short distances apart, and above these were small branches, on which was a sort of thatch of reeds and rushes. standing close under one of the holes beric could see nothing, but from the sound of the scratching he could tell from which side the wolf was at work enlarging it. he carefully thrust the point of his spear through the branches and gave a sudden lunge upwards. a fierce yell was heard, followed by the sound of a body rolling down the roof, and then a struggle accompanied by angry snarling and growling outside. "that is one less, beric," boduoc said. "i fancy i only scratched mine. ah!" he exclaimed suddenly, as without the least warning a wolf sprang down through the hole. before it could gather its legs under it for a fresh spring beric and the woman both thrust their spears deeply into it, boduoc keeping his eyes fixed on the hole, and making a lunge as another wolf peered down in readiness to spring after the one that had entered. for hours the fight went on. gradually the holes, in spite of the efforts of the defenders, were enlarged, and the position became more and more critical. at least twenty of the wolves were slain; but as the attack was kept up as vigorously as at first, it was evident that fresh reinforcements had arrived to the assailants. "we cannot keep them out much longer, beric," boduoc said at last. "it seems to me that our only plan is to fire the hut, and then, each taking a child, to make a rush across to the trees and climb them. the sudden burst of fire will drive them back for a little, and we may make good our retreat to the trees." "what time is it, think you, boduoc?" "it must be two or three hours past midnight, and if borgon carried out my instructions help ought to be near at hand. i would that we could let them know of our peril." "there is a cow horn," the woman said, pointing to the corner of the hut. "my husband uses it for calling in the cattle." boduoc seized the horn and blew a deep hollow blast upon it. there was a sudden pattering of feet overhead and then silence. "that has scared them," beric said. "blow again, boduoc; if we can but gain half an hour our friends may be up." again and again the hoarse roar of the cow horn rose, but the wolves speedily recovered from their scare and crowded on the roof. "we can't hold out much longer," beric said, as two wolves that leapt down together had just been despatched. "get a brand from the fire." at this moment there was a sudden scuffle overhead, and the three defenders stood, spear in hand, ready to repel a fresh attack; but all was quiet; then a loud shout rose on the air. "thank the gods, here they are!" boduoc said. he listened a moment, but all was still round the hut; then he threw the door open as a score of men with lighted torches came running towards it, and raised a shout of satisfaction as the light fell upon beric. "thanks for your aid, my friends!" he said as they crowded round him; "never was a shout more welcome than yours. you were just in time, as you may see by looking at the roof. we were about to fire it and make for the trees, though i doubt if one of us would have reached them." as the men entered the hut and looked at the ragged holes in the roof and the bodies of nine wolves stretched on the ground, they saw that they had, indeed, arrived only just in time. among the rescuing party was the man to whom the hut belonged, whose joy at finding his wife and children unhurt was great indeed; and he poured forth his thanks to beric and boduoc when he learned from his wife that they had voluntarily abandoned the wood, where they could have been secure in the shelter of a tree, in order to assist her in defending the hut against the wolves. "you must all come with us," beric said; "the wolves may return after we have gone. when our hunt is over i will send some men to help you to repair your roof. where are the cattle?" "they are safe in a stockade at the next village," the man said. "we finished it only yesterday, and drove in all the cattle from the forests, and collected great quantities of wood so that the women might keep up great bonfires if the wolves tried to break in." a few minutes later the party started on their return. as they walked they could sometimes hear the pattering of footsteps on the falling leaves, but the torches deterred the animals from making an attack, and after three hours' walking they arrived at cardun. the village stood on a knoll rising from swamps, through which a branch of the stour wound its way sluggishly. round the crest of the knoll ran two steep earthen banks, one rising behind the other, and in the inclosed space, some eight acres in extent, stood the village. the contrast between it and the roman city but two-and-twenty miles away was striking. no great advance had been made upon the homes that the people had occupied in gaul before their emigration. in the centre stood parta's abode, distinguished from the rest only by its superior size. the walls were of mud and stone, the roof high, so as to let the water run more easily off the rough thatching. it contained but one central hall surrounded by half a dozen small apartments. the huts of the people consisted but of a single room, with a hole in the roof by which the smoke of the fire in the centre made its way out. the doorway was generally closed by a wattle secured by a bar. when this was closed light only found its way into the room through the chinks of the wattle and the hole in the roof. in winter, for extra warmth, a skin was hung before the door. beyond piles of hides, which served as seats by day and beds at night, there was no furniture whatever in the rooms, save a few earthen cooking pots. parta's abode, however, was more sumptuously furnished. across one end ran a sort of dais of beaten earth, raised a foot above the rest of the floor. this was thickly strewn with fresh rushes, and there was a rough table and benches. the walls of the apartment were hidden by skins, principally those of wolves. the fireplace was in the centre of the lower part of the hall, and arranged on a shelf against the wall were cooking pots of iron and brass; while on a similar shelf on the wall above the dais were jugs and drinking vessels of gold. hams of wild boar and swine hung from the rafters, where too were suspended wild duck and fish, and other articles of food. parta's own apartment led from the back of the dais. that of beric was next to it, its separate use having been granted to him on his return from camalodunum, not without some scoffing remarks upon his effeminacy in requiring a separate apartment, instead of sleeping as usual on the dais; while the followers and attendants stretched themselves on the floor of the hall. chapter iii: a wolf hunt shouts of welcome saluted beric as with his party he crossed the rough bridge over the stream and descended the slope to the village. some fifteen hundred men were gathered here, all armed for the chase with spears, javelins, and long knives. their hair fell over their necks, their faces were, according to the universal custom, shaved with the exception of the moustache. many of them were tattooed--a custom that at one time had been universal, but was now dying out among the more civilized. most of them were, save for the mantle, naked from the waist up, the body being stained a deep blue with woad--a plant largely cultivated for its dye. this plant, known as isatis tinctoria, is still grown in france and flanders. it requires rich ground and grows to a height of three or four feet, bearing yellow flowers. the dye is obtained from the leaves, which are stripped two or three times in the season. they are partially dried, and are then pounded or ground, pressed into a mass with the hands or feet, and piled in a heap, when fermentation takes place. when this process is completed the paste is cut up, and when placed in water yields a blue dye. it can also be prepared by laying it in the water in the first place and allowing it to ferment there. the water, which becomes a deep blue, is drawn off and allowed to settle, the dye remaining at the bottom. fresh water is then added to the leaves, which are again stirred up and the operation is repeated. passing through the crowd of tribesmen, beric entered his mother's abode, walked up to the dais, and saluted her by a deep bow. parta was a woman of tall stature and of robust form. her garment was fastened at each shoulder by a gold brooch. a belt studded and clasped by the same metal girded it in at the waist, and it then fell in loose folds almost to her feet. she had heavy gold bracelets on her arms. "you are late, beric," she said sternly. "our tribesmen have been waiting nigh an hour for you. i only heard at daybreak that borgon had gone out to search for you with a party." "it was well that he did, mother, for boduoc and i were besieged in a hut by a pack of wolves, who would shortly have made an end of us had not rescue arrived." "what were you doing in the hut?" she asked. "you told me you should leave the romans' town before sunset and make your way straight back here." beric shortly related the circumstances of the fight. "it is well that it is no worse," she said; "but boduoc ought to have known better than to have allowed you to leave the trees, where you would at least have been safe from the wolves. what mattered the life of a woman in comparison to yours, when you know my hopes and plans for you? but stay not talking. magartha has some roasted kid in readiness for you. eat it quickly, and take a horn of mead, and be gone. an hour has been wasted already." a few minutes sufficed for beric to satisfy his hunger. then he went out and joined two or three minor chiefs of experience who had charge of the hunt. the greater portion of the tribesmen had already started. almost every man had brought with him one or more large dogs trained in hunting the wolf and boar, and the woods beyond the swamp rang with their deep barking. instructions had already been given to the men. these proceeded in parties of four, each group taking its post some fifty yards from the next. those who had the farthest to go had started before daybreak, and it was another two hours before the whole were in position, forming a long line through the forest upwards of ten miles in length. a horn was sounded in the centre where the leaders had posted themselves, and the signal was repeated at points along the line, and then, with shouts on the part of the men and fierce barkings on that of the dogs, the whole moved forward. the right of the line rested on the stour, the left upon the orwell; and as they passed along through the forest the line contracted. at times wild boars made a dash to break through it. many of these were slain, till the chiefs considered that there was a sufficient supply of food, and the rest were then allowed to pass through. no wolves were seen until they neared the point where the two rivers unite, by which time the groups were within a few paces of each other. then among the trees in front of them a fierce snarling and yelping was heard. the dogs, which had hitherto been kept in hand, were now loosed, and with a shout the men rushed forward both on the bluffs in the centre and along the low land skirting the rivers on either side. soon the wolves came pouring down from the wooded bluff, and engaged in a furious conflict with the dogs. as the men ran up, a few of the wolves in their desperation charged them and endeavoured to break through, but the great majority, cowed by the clamour and fierce assault, crouched to the earth and received their death blow unresistingly. some took to the water, but coracles had been sent down to the point the evening before, and they were speedily slain. altogether some four or five hundred wolves were killed. it was now late in the afternoon. wood was collected and great fires made, and the boars' flesh was soon roasting over them. at daybreak they started again, and retracing their steps formed a fresh line at the point where the last beat had begun, this time beating in a great semicircle and driving the wolves down on to the stour. so for a fortnight the war went on. only such deer and boar as were required for food were killed; but the wolves were slain without mercy, and at the end of the operations that portion of the country was completely cleared of these savage beasts, for those who had escaped the beating parties had fled far away through the forest to more quiet quarters. the work had been laborious; for each day some forty miles had been traversed in the march from the last place of slaughter to the next beat, and in the subsequent proceedings. it had, however, been full of interest and excitement, especially during the second week, when, having cleared all the country in the neighbourhood of the rivers, the men were ranged in wide circles some ten miles in diameter, advancing gradually towards a centre. occasionally many of the wolves escaped before the lines had narrowed sufficiently for the men to be near enough to each other to oppose a successful resistance, but in each case the majority continued to slink from the approaching noises until the cordon was too close for them to break through. altogether over four thousand wolves were slain. all those whose coats were in good condition were skinned, the skins being valuable for linings to the huts, for beds, and winter mantles. many men had been bitten more or less severely by them, but none had been killed; and there was much rejoicing at the complete clearance from the district of a foe that had, since the arrival of the large packs from the north, made terrible inroads among the herds of cattle and swine, and had killed a considerable number of men, women, and children. the previous winter had been a very severe one, and had driven great numbers of wolves down from north britain. the fighting that had been going on for years in the south and west, and at times in the midlands, had put a stop to the usual chases of wolves in those districts, and they had consequently multiplied exceedingly and had become a serious scourge even before the arrival of the fresh bands from the north. however, after so great a slaughter it was hoped that for a time at least they would not again make their appearance in that neighbourhood. returning home at the end of their expedition beric was surprised as he entered the hall to see a druid standing upon the dais conversing with his mother, who was pacing up and down with angry gestures. that their conference was an important one he did not doubt; for the druids dwelt in the recesses of the forests or near their temples, and those who wished to consult them must journey to them to ask their counsel beneath a sacred oak or in the circle of the magic stones. when great events were impending, or when tribes took up arms against each other, the druids would leave their forest abodes, and, interposing between the combatants, authoritatively bid them desist. they acted as mediators between great chiefs, and were judges upon all matters in dispute. he was sure, therefore, that the druid was the bearer of news of importance. he stood waiting in the centre of the hall until his mother's eye fell upon him. "come hither, beric," she said, "and hear the news that the holy druid has brought. think you not that the romans have carried their oppression far enough when they have seized half the land of our island, enslaved the people, and exacted tribute from the free britons? what think you, now? the roman governor severus, knowing that it is our religion as well as love of our country that arms us against them, and that the druids ever raise their voices to bid us defend our altars and our homes, have resolved upon an expedition against the sacred island, and have determined to exterminate our priests, to break down our altars, and to destroy our religion. ten days since the legion marched from camalodunum to join the army he is assembling in the west. from all other parts he has drawn soldiers, and he has declared his intention of rooting out and destroying our religion at its centre." "the news is terrible," the druid said, "but our gods will fight for us, and doubtless a terrible destruction will fall upon the impious men who thus dream of profaning the sacred island; but it may be otherwise, or perchance the gods may see that thus, and thus only, can the people of britain be stirred to take up arms and to annihilate the worshippers of the false gods of rome. assuredly we are on the eve of great events, and every briton must prepare to take up arms, either to fall upon the legions whom our gods have stricken or to avenge the insult offered to our faith." "it is terrible news, indeed," beric said; "and though i am but a lad, father, i am ready when the call comes to fight in the front ranks of the iceni with our people. my father fell fighting for his country by the sword of the romans, and i am ready to follow his example when my mother shall say, 'go out to war.'" "for the present, beric, we must remain quiet; we must await news of the result of this expedition; but the word has gone round, and i and my brethren are to visit every chief of the iceni, while the druids of the north stir up the brigantes; the news, too, that the time of their deliverance is at hand, and that they must hold themselves in readiness to rise against the oppressors, is passing through the trinobantes and the tribes of the south and southwest. this time it must be no partial rising, and we must avoid the ruinous error of matching a single tribe against the whole strength of the romans. it must be britain against rome--a whole people struggling for their homes and altars against those who would destroy their religion and reduce them to slavery." "i would that it could have been postponed for a time, father," beric said. "during the four years i passed as a hostage at camalodunum i have been learning the tactics that have enabled the romans to conquer us. i have learned their words of command, and how the movements were executed, and i hope when i become a man to train the sarci to fight in solid order, to wheel and turn as do the romans, so that we might form a band which might in the day of battle oppose itself to the roman onset, check pursuit, and perhaps convert a reverse into a victory." "heed not that," the druid said enthusiastically. "it would be useful indeed, but there is but scant time for it now. our gods will fight for us. we have numbers and valour. our warriors will sweep their soldiers aside as a wave dashes over a rock." the conversation between the druid and parta had been heard by others in the hall, and the news spread rapidly among the tribesmen as they returned from the chase. shouts of fury and indignation rose outside, and several of the minor chiefs, followed by a crowd of excited men, poured into the hall, demanding with loud shouts that war should be declared against the romans. the druid advanced to the edge of the dais. "children," he said, "the time has not yet come, nor can the sarci do aught until the word is given by prasutagus, and the whole of the iceni rise in arms, and not the iceni alone, but britons from sea to sea. till then hold yourselves in readiness. sharpen your arms and prepare for the contest. but you need a chief. in the ordinary course of things years would have elapsed before beric, the son of your last brave prince, would have been associated with his mother in the rule of the tribe; but on the eve of such a struggle ordinary customs and usages must be set at nought. i therefore, in virtue of my sacred authority, now appoint beric as chief next to his mother in the tribe, and i bid you obey him in all things relating to war. he has learned much of roman ways and methods, and is thus better fitted than many far older than he to instruct you how best to stand their onset, and i prophesy that under him no small honour and glory will fall to the tribe, and that they will bear a signal share in avenging our gods and winning our freedom. come hither, beric;" and the druid, laying a hand upon the lad's head, raised the other to heaven and implored the gods to bestow wisdom and strength upon him, and to raise in him a mighty champion of his country and faith. then he uttered a terrible malediction upon any who should disobey beric's orders, or question his authority, who should show faint heart in the day of battle, or hold his life of any account in the cause of his country. "now," he concluded, "retire to your homes. we must give no cause or pretext for roman aggression until the signal is given. you will not be idle. your young chief will teach you somewhat of the discipline that has rendered the roman soldiers so formidable, so that you may know how to set yourselves in the day of battle, how to oppose rank to rank, to draw off in good order, or to press forward to victory. the issue is ever in the hands of the gods, but we should do all we can to deserve it. it is good to learn even from our enemies. they have studied war for ages, and if they have conquered brave peoples, it has not been by superior valour, but because they have studied war, while others have trusted solely to their native valour. therefore deem not instruction useless, or despise methods simply because you do not understand them. none could be braver than those who fought under caractacus, yet they were conquered, not by the valour, but by the discipline of the romans. it was the will of the gods that your young chief should dwell for four years a hostage among the romans, and doubtless they willed it should be so in order that he might be fitted to be a worthy champion of his country, and so to effect what even the valour of caractacus failed to do. the gods have spoken by me. see that you obey them, and woe to the wretch who murmurs even in his own heart against their decrees!" as he concluded a loud shout was raised throughout the crowded hall, and swelled into a mighty roar outside, for those at the open door had passed his words to the throng of tribesmen outside. when the shout subsided, beric added a few words, saying, that although he regretted he had not yet come to his full strength, and that thus early he should be called upon to lead men, he accepted the decree of the gods, and would strive not to be wanting in the day of trial. in matters connected with war he had learned much from the romans, who, oppressors as they were and despisers of the gods of britain, were skilled beyond all others in such matters. in all other respects he had happily his mother's counsel and guidance to depend upon, and before assuming any civil authority he should wait until years had taught him wisdom, and should then go through all the usual ceremonies appointed by their religion, and receive his instalment solemnly in the temple at the hands of the druids. that night there was high feasting at cardun. a bullock and three swine were slain by order of parta, and a number of great earthen jars of mead broached, and while the principal men of the tribe feasted in the hall, the rest made merry outside. the bard attached to parta's household sang tales of the glories of the tribe, even the women from the villages and detached huts for a large circle round came in, happy that, now the wolves had been cleared away, they could stir out after nightfall without fear. after entertaining their guests in the hall, parta and her son went round among the tribesmen outside and saw that they had all they needed, and spoke pleasantly even to the poorest among them. it was long before beric closed his eyes that night. the events of the day had been a complete surprise to him. he had thought that in the distant future he should share with his mother in the ruling of the tribe, but had never once dreamed of its coming for years. had it not been for the news that they had heard of the intended invasion of the holy isle he should not have regretted his elevation, for it would have given him the means and opportunity to train the tribesmen to fight in close order as did the romans. but now he could not hope that there would be time to carry this out effectually. he knew that throughout britain the feeling of rage and indignation at this outrage upon the gods of their country would raise the passions of men to boiling point, and that the slightest incident would suffice to bring on a general explosion, and he greatly feared that the result of such a rising would in the end be disastrous. his reading had shown him how great was the power of rome, and how obstinately she clung to her conquests. his countrymen seemed to think that were they, with a mighty effort, to free britain of its invaders, their freedom would be achieved; but he knew that such a disaster would arouse the roman pride, and that however great the effort required, fresh armies would be despatched to avenge the disaster and to regain the territory lost. "the britons know nothing of roman power," he said to himself. "they see but twenty or thirty thousand men here, and they forget that that number have alone been sent because they were sufficient for the work, and that rome could, if need be, despatch five times as many men. with time to teach the people, not of the sarci tribe only, but all the iceni, to fight in solid masses, and to bear the brunt of the battle, while the rest of the tribes attacked furiously on all sides, we might hope for victory; but fighting without order or regularity, each man for himself, cannot hope to prevail against their solid mass. "if i could have gained a name before the time came, so that my voice might have had weight and power in the councils of the chiefs, i might have done something. as it is, i fear that a rising now will bring ruin and slavery upon all britain." beric thought but little of himself, or of the personal danger he should encounter. the britons were careless of their lives. they believed implicitly in a future life, and that those who fell fighting bravely for their country would meet with reward hereafter; hence, as among the gauls, cowardice was an almost unknown vice. beric had faith in the gods of his country, while he had none whatever in those of rome, and wondered how a mighty people could believe in such deities; but, unlike the britons in general, he did not believe that the gods interfered to decide the fate of battles. he saw that the romans, with their false gods, had conquered all other nations, and that so far they had uniformly triumphed over his own. therefore, mighty as he believed the gods to be, he thought that they concerned themselves but little in the affairs of the world, and that battles were to be won solely by valour, discipline, and numbers. numbers and valour the british had, but of discipline they were absolutely ignorant, and it was this that gave so tremendous an advantage to the romans. hence beric felt none of the exultation and excitement that most british lads of his age would have done on attaining to rank and command in the tribe to which they belonged. the britons despised the romans as much for their belief in many gods as for their luxury, and what they considered their effeminacy. the religion of the britons was a pure one, though disfigured by the offering of human sacrifices. they believed in one great supreme spirit, whose power pervaded everything. they thought of him less as an absolute being than as a pervading influence. they worshipped him everywhere, in the forests and in the streams, in the sky and heavenly bodies. through the druids they consulted him in all their undertakings. if the answer was favourable, they followed it; if unfavourable, they endeavoured to change it by sacrifices and offerings to the priests. they believed firmly in a life after death, when they held that the souls of all brave and good men and women would be transported at once to an island far out in the atlantic, which they called the happy island. the highest places would be theirs who had fought valiantly and died in battle; but there was room for all, and all would be happy. holding this idea firmly, the britons sought rather than avoided death. their lives in their separate tribes were quiet and simple, except when engaged in the chase or war. they were averse to labour. they were domestic, virtuous, frank, and straightforward. the personal property of a stranger was sacred among them, and the most lavish hospitality was exercised. it was not strange that a simple hardy people, believing firmly in the one supreme god, should have regarded with contempt alike the luxury of the romans and their worship of many gods in the likenesses of men and women, and that the more beric had seen of the learning and wisdom of the romans in other directions, the more he should wonder that such a people should be slaves to what seemed to him childish superstitions. the next morning, after a consultation with some of the minor chiefs, a hundred men were summoned to attend on the following day. they were picked out from families where there were two or more males of working age, so that there would be as little disturbance of labour as possible. it was principally in companies of a hundred that beric had seen the romans exercised, and he had learned every order by heart from first to last. the manoeuvres to be taught were not of a complicated nature. to form in fighting order six deep, and to move in column, were the principal points; but when the next day the band assembled, beric was surprised and vexed to find that the operations were vastly more difficult than he expected. to begin with, every man was to have his place in the line, and the tribesmen, though eager to learn, and anxious to please their young chief, could not see that it mattered in what order they stood. when, however, having arranged them at first in a line two deep, beric proceeded to explain how the spears were to be held, and in what order the movements were to be performed,--the exercise answering to the manual and platoon of modern days,--the tribesmen were unable to restrain their laughter. what difference could it make whether the hands were two feet apart or three, whether the spears were held upright or sloped, whether they came down to the charge one after another or all together? to men absolutely unaccustomed to order of any kind, but used only to fight each in the way that suited him best, these details appeared absolutely ludicrous. beric was obliged to stop and harangue them, pointing out to them that it was just these little things that gave the romans their fighting power; that it was because the whole company moved as one man, and fought as one man, each knowing his place and falling into it, however great the confusion, however sudden the alarm, that made them what they were. "why do they conquer you?" he said. "chiefly because you can never throw them into confusion. charge down upon them and break them, and they at once reunite and a solid wall opposes your scattered efforts. you know how cattle, when wolves attack them, gather in a circle with their horns outwards, and so keep at bay those who could pull them down and rend them separately. at present it seems ridiculous to you that every position of the hand, every movement of the arm, should be done by rule; but when you have practised them these will become a second nature; so with your other movements. it seems folly to you to do with measured steps what it seems you could do far more quickly by running together hastily; but it is not so. the slowest movement is really the quickest, and it has the advantage that no one is hurried, that everything is done steadily and regularly, and that even in the greatest heat and confusion of a battle every man takes his place, as calm and ready to fight as if no foe were in sight. now let us try this again. at the end of the day i shall pick out some of those who are quickest and most attentive, and make of them officers under me. they will have more work to do, for they will have to understand and teach my orders, but also they will gain more honour and credit." for hours the drill went on; then they broke off for dinner and again worked until evening, and by that time had made sufficient progress in their simple movements to begin to feel that there was after all something more in it than they had fancied. for the first hour it had seemed to them a sort of joke--a mere freak on the part of their young chief; but they were themselves surprised to find by the end of the day how rapidly they were able to change from their rank two deep into the solid formation, and how their spears rose and fell together at the order. beric bade them by the next morning provide themselves with spears six feet longer. britons were more accustomed to fight with javelin than with spear, and the latter weapons were shorter and lighter than those of the romans. beric felt that the advantage should be the other way, for the small shields carried by the britons were inferior as defensive weapons to those of the romans, and to preserve the balance it was necessary therefore to have longer spears; the more so since the britons were taller, and far more powerful men than their foes, and should therefore be able, with practice, to use longer weapons. the next day beric chose boduoc as his second in command, and appointed ten men sub-officers or sergeants. after a week of almost incessant work that would have exhausted men less hardy and vigorous, beric was satisfied. the company had now come to take great interest in their work, and were able to go through their exercises with a fair show of regularity. even the older chiefs, who had at first shaken their heads as they looked on, acknowledged that there was a great deal to be gained from the exercises. parta was delighted. it was she who had foreseen the advantages that might be derived from beric's stay among the romans, and she entered heartily into his plans, ordering the men engaged to be fed from the produce of her flocks and herds. when the week was over two hundred more men were summoned, a sufficient number of the brightest and most intelligent of the first company being chosen as their sub-officers. before the drill commenced, however, the first company were put through their exercises in order that the newcomers might see what was expected of them, and how much could be done. this time several of the chiefs joined the companies in order that they might learn the words of command and be fitted to lead. this greatly encouraged beric, who had foreseen that while he himself could command a company, he could do nothing towards controlling ten or fifteen companies unless these had each officers of rank and influence enough to control them. the exercises after the first company had been drilled were carried on in the forest some miles away from the village, the men assembling there and camping beneath the trees, so that no rumour of gatherings or preparations for war should reach the romans, although at present these were not in a position to make any eruption from camalodunum, as the greater portion of the legionaries had marched with suetonius. returning one day to cardun with boduoc, beric was surprised to hear loud cries of lamentation. the women were running about with dishevelled hair and disordered garments. fearful that something might have happened to his mother, he hurried on to the hall. parta was sitting on the ground rocking herself to and fro in her grief, while the women were assembled round her uttering cries of anguish. "what is the matter?" beric asked as he hurried forward. the bard stepped forward to answer the question. "my son," he said, "misfortune has fallen on the land. the gods have hidden their faces and refused to fight for their children. woe and desolation have come upon us. the altars are thrown down and the priests slaughtered." "mona is taken!" beric exclaimed. "yes, my son, mona is taken. the druid boroc but an hour ago brought the news. the romans having reached the strait, constructed flat bottomed boats, and in these approached the island, the horsemen towing their horses behind them. there were assembled the women of the silures and the druids from all parts of britain, with many fugitives who had fled for shelter to the island. the druids remained by their altars offering up human sacrifices, the men and women assembled on the beach waving torches, hurling imprecations upon the invaders, and imploring the gods to aid them and to crush the impious foe. for a time the romans paused in mid channel, terrified at the spectacle, and the hopes of all that the gods had paralysed their arms rose high; but, alas! the halt was but temporary. encouraging each other with shouts, they again advanced, and, leaping from their boats, waded through the water and set foot on the sacred soil. "what was there to do? the men were few, and though the women in their despair rushed wildly at the enemy, it was all in vain; men and women were alike slaughtered; and then, moving forward, they advanced against the holy circle and slew the druids upon the altars of the gods they served, and yet the gods were silent. they saw, they heard, but answered not; neither the clouds rained fire upon the invaders nor the earth shook. ah! my son, evil days have fallen upon the land. what will be the end of them?" throughout the length and breadth of britain a thrill of horror was felt at the news of the massacre of druids at mona, and everywhere it was followed by a stern determination to prepare for battle to clear the land of the romans. the druids went from tribe to tribe and from village to village stirring up men's hearts; the women, even more deeply excited than the men at the news of the calamity, behaved as if possessed, many going about the country calling upon the men to take up arms, and foretelling victory to the britons and destruction to the romans; even in the streets of camalodunum at night their voices were heard crying out curses upon the romans and predicting the destruction of the city. a week after the news came, beric, in fulfilment of the promise he had given to berenice, paid another visit to camalodunum. there were no signs in its busy streets of uneasiness or fear. the new propraetor catus decianus, who commanded in the absence of suetonius, was holding a sort of court there, and the bearing of the romans seemed even more arrogant and insolent than usual. the news of the destruction of the druids at mona had by them been hailed as a final and most crushing blow to the resistance of the britons. since their gods could not protect their own altars what hope could there be for them in the future? decianus, a haughty tyrant who had been sent to britain by nero as a mark of signal favour, in order that he might enrich himself by the spoils of the britons, was levying exactions at a rate hitherto unknown, treating the people as if they were but dirt under his feet. his lieutenants, all creatures of nero, followed his example, and the exasperation of the unfortunate trinobantes, who were the chief victims, had reached such a point that they were ready for revolt whensoever the signal might come. on arrival at the house of caius muro, beric found berenice at home; she received him with joy. "i am glad that you have come, beric; it is so dull now that father has gone away to the war. i have been expecting you here for the last fortnight. i suppose you have been amusing yourself too much to give a thought to me." "i have been very busy, berenice. i am a chief now, and have had much to do in the tribe. among other things we have been having great war with the wolves." "yes, you told me when you were last here that you were going to set out next day on an expedition against them." "they began first, as it turned out," he said smiling, "and very nearly made a meal of me that night on my way homeward." "sit down and tell me all about it," she said. "you know i love stories." beric recited to her the story of the fight at the hut. "and there was a woman there! how terrible it must have been for her to be alone with her children before you arrived, and to think of her killing wolves with the spear. how different your women must be from us, beric, for we are only taught to embroider, to dress ourselves, and to care for pretty things. why, i should be frightened out of my life at the sight of a wolf if i were all alone and had no one to protect me." "our women are brought up differently, berenice. we regard them as altogether our equals, and many of our tribes are ruled by women. my own, you know, for example. they do not go into battle with the men; but when a camp is attacked they are ready to fight in its defence, and being brought up to lead a vigorous life, they are well nigh as strong as we are. among all the gaulish nations the women are held in high respect. of course with you this is so sometimes. your father was wont to listen to the opinions of your mother; but you know that is not often so, and that with many romans women are looked upon as inferior creatures, good only for dress and pleasure, useful in ordering a house and in managing the slaves, but unfit to take part in public life, and knowing nothing of aught save domestic affairs. and what has been going on here, berenice?" "nothing," the girl said; "at least i have been doing nothing. i went to the footraces the other day, and saw the propraetor, but i don't like him. i think that he is a bad man, and i hear stories among the ladies of his being cruel and greedy; and there have been mad women going about at night shrieking and crying; i have heard them several times myself. some of the ladies said they wish that my father was back here with his legion, for that there are but few soldiers, and if decianus continues to treat the people so badly there may be trouble. what do you think, beric?" "i cannot say," he replied. "it seems to me that the romans are bent upon crushing us down altogether. they have just captured our holy island, slaying the priests and priestesses, and overthrowing the altars, while nero's officers wring from the people the last coin and the last animal they possess. i fear that there will be trouble, berenice. no men worthy of the name could see their gods insulted and themselves despoiled of all they possess without striking a blow in defence." "but they will only bring more trouble upon themselves," the girl said gravely. "i have heard my father lament that they forced us to fight against them, though you know he held that it was our fault more than theirs, and that if they were ruled kindly and wisely, as were the people in southern gaul, where the legion was stationed before it came over here, they would settle down and live peaceably, and be greatly benefited by our rule." "if you treat a man as you would a dog you must not be surprised if he bites you," beric said. "some of your people not only think that we are dogs, but that we are toothless ones. mayhap they will find their mistake some day." "but you will never fight against us, beric," the girl said anxiously, "after living so long among us?" "i would not fight against your father or against those who have treated me well," he replied; "but against those who ill treat and abuse us i would fight when my countrymen fought. yet if i could ever do you a service, berenice, i would lay down my life to do it." the event seemed so improbable to the girl that she passed over the promise without comment. "so you are a chief, beric! but i thought chiefs wore golden bracelets and ornaments, and you are just as you were when you came here last." "because i come here only as a visitor. if i came on a mission from the queen, or as one of a deputation of chiefs, i should wear my ornaments. i wear them at home now, those that my father had." beric stayed for some hours chatting with berenice, and his old instructor, who had been left by caius in charge of the household. as he walked home he wondered over the careless security of the romans, and vowed that should opportunity occur he would save berenice from the fate that was likely to fall upon all in camalodunum should the britons rise. chapter iv: an infuriated people "a fresh misfortune has occurred," was the greeting with which beric's mother met him on his return home. "prasutagus is dead; and this is not the worst, he has left half his estates to the roman emperor." "to the roman emperor!" beric repeated; "is it possible, mother?" "it is true, beric. you know he has always tried to curry favour with the romans, and has kept the iceni from joining when other tribes rose against rome. he has thought of nothing but amassing wealth, and in all britain there is no man who could compare with him in riches. doubtless he felt that the romans only bided their time to seize what he had gathered, and so, in order that boadicea and his daughters should enjoy in peace a portion of his stores, he has left half to nero. the man was a fool as well as a traitor. the peasant who throws a child out of the door to the wolves knows that it does but whet their appetite for blood, and so it will be in this case. i hear prasutagus died a week since, though the news has come but slowly, and already a horde of roman officials have arrived in norfolk, and are proceeding to make inventories of the king's possessions, and to bear themselves as insolently as if they were masters of all. trouble must come, and that soon. boadicea is of different stuff to her husband; she will not bear the insolence of the romans. it would have been well for the iceni had prasutagus died twenty years ago and she had ruled our country." "the gods have clearly willed, mother, that we should rise as one people against the romans. it may be that it was for this that they did not defend their shrines from the impious hands of the invaders. nought else stirred the britons to lay aside their jealousies and act as one people. now from end to end of the island all are burning for vengeance. just at this moment, comes the death of the romans' friend prasutagus, and the passing of the rule of the iceni into the hands of boadicea. with the romans in her capital the occasion will assuredly not long be wanting, and then there will be such a rising as the romans have never yet seen; and then, their purpose effected, the gods may well fight on our side. i would that there had been five more years in which to prepare for the struggle, but if it must come it must. this catus decianus is just the man to bring it on. haughty, arrogant, and greedy, he knows nothing of us, and has never faced the britons in arms. had suetonius been here he would not have acted thus with regard to the affairs of prasutagus. had caius muro not been absent his voice might have been raised in warning to the tyrant; but everything seems to conspire together, mother, to bring on the crisis." "the sooner the better," parta exclaimed vehemently. "it is true that in time you might teach the whole iceni to fight in roman methods, but what is good for the romans may not be good for us. moreover, every year that passes strengthens their hold on the land. their forts spring up everywhere, their cities grow apace; every month numbers flock over here. another five years, my son, and their hold might be too strong to shake off." "that is so, mother. thinking of ourselves i thought not of them; it may be that it were better to fight now than to wait. well, whenever the signal is given, and from wheresoever it comes, we are ready." since the news of the capture of mona had arrived, the tribesmen had drilled with increased alacrity and eagerness. every man saw that the struggle with rome must ere long take place, and was eager to take a leading share in the conflict. it was upon them that the blow had fallen most heavily in the former partial rising, and they knew that the other tribes of the iceni held that their defence of their camp should not have been overborne by the romans as it was; hence they had something of a private wrong as well as a national one to avenge. another fortnight was spent in constant work, until one day the news came that boadicea's daughters had been most grossly insulted by the roman officers, and that the queen herself had started for camalodunum to demand from decianus a redress of their wrongs and the punishment of the offenders. the excitement was intense. every man felt the outrage upon the daughters of their queen as a personal injury, and when beric took his place before the men of the tribe, who were drawn up in military order, a shout arose: "lead us to camalodunum! let us take vengeance!" "not yet," beric cried. "the queen has gone there; we must wait the issue. not until she gives the orders must we move. a rising now would endanger her safety. we must wait, my friends, until all are as ready as we are; when the time comes you will not find me backward in leading you." three days later came news that seemed at first incredible, but which was speedily confirmed. decianus had received the queen, had scoffed at her complaints, and when, fired with indignation, she had used threats, he had ordered his soldiers to strip and scourge her, and the sentence had actually been carried into effect. then the rage of the tribesmen knew no bounds, and it needed the utmost persuasions of parta herself to induce them to wait until news came from the north. "fear not," she said, "that your vengeance will be baulked. boadicea will not submit to this double indignity, of that you maybe sure. wait until you hear from her. when measures are determined upon in this matter the iceni must act as one man. we are all equally outraged in the persons of our queen and her daughters; all have a right to a share in avenging her insults. we might spoil all by moving before the others are ready. when we move it must be as a mighty torrent to overwhelm the invaders. not camalodunum only, but every roman town must be laid in ruins. it must be a life and death struggle between us and rome; we must conquer now or be enslaved for ever." it was not long before messengers arrived from boadicea, bidding the sarci prepare for war, and summoning parta and her son to a council of the chiefs of the tribe, to be held under a well known sacred oak in the heart of the forest, near norwich. parta's chariot was at once prepared, together with a second, which was to carry boduoc and a female attendant of parta, and as soon as the horses were harnessed they started. two long days' journey brought them to the place of meeting. the scene was a busy one. already fully two score of the chiefs had arrived. parta was received with great marks of respect. the sarci were the tribe lying nearest to the romans, and upon them the brunt of the roman anger would fall, as it had done before; but her appearance in answer to the summons showed, it was thought, their willingness to join in the general action of the tribe. beric was looked at curiously. his four years' residence among the romans caused him to be regarded with a certain amount of suspicion, which had been added to by rumours that he had been impressing upon the tribe the greatness and power of rome. of late there had been reports brought by wandering bards that the sarci were being practised in the same exercises as those of the roman soldiers, and there were many who thought that beric, like cogidinus, a chief of the regi of sussex, had joined himself heart and soul to rome, and was preparing his tribe to fight side by side with the legions. on the other hand many, knowing that parta had lost her husband at the hands of the romans, and hated them with all her heart, held that she would never have divided her power with beric, or suffered him to take military command of the tribe, had she not been assured of his fidelity to the cause of britain. beric was dressed in the full panoply of a chief. he wore a short skirt or kilt reaching to his knees. above it a loose vest or shirt, girt in by a gold belt, while over his shoulders he wore the british mantle, white in colour and worked with gold. around his neck was the torque, the emblem of chieftainship. on his left arm he carried a small shield of beaten brass, and from a baldric covered with gold plates hung the straight pointless british sword that had been carried by his father in battle. even those most suspicious of him could not deny that he was a stalwart and well built youth, with a full share of pith and muscle, and that his residence among the romans had not given him any airs of effeminacy. the only subject of criticism was that his hair was shorter than that of his countrymen, for although he had permitted it to grow since he left camalodunum, where he had worn it short, in roman fashion, it had not yet attained its full length. beric felt a stranger among the others. since his return home there had been no great tribal gathering, for prasutagus had for some time been ill, and had always discouraged such assemblages both because they were viewed with jealousy by the romans and because he begrudged the expenses of entertaining. parta, who was personally known to almost all present, introduced beric to them. "my son is none the less one of the iceni for his roman training," she said; "he has learned much, but has forgotten nothing. he is young, but you will find him a worthy companion in arms when the day of battle comes." "i am glad to hear what you say, parta," aska, one of the older chiefs, said. "it would be unfair to impute blame to him for what assuredly was not his fault, but i feared that they might have taught him to despise his countrymen." "it is not so, sir," beric said firmly. "happily i fell into good hands. caius muro, the commander of the 12th legion, in whose charge i was, is a just as well as a valiant man, and had me instructed as if i had been his own son, and i trust that i am none the less a true briton because i except him and his from the hatred i bear the romans. he never said a word to me against my countrymen, and indeed often bewailed that we were not treated more wisely and gently, and were not taught to regard the romans as friends and teachers rather than oppressors." "well spoken, young chief!" the other said; "ingratitude is, of all sins, the most odious, and you do well to speak up boldly for those who were kind to you. among all men there are good and evil, and we may well believe, even among the romans, there are some who are just and honourable. but i hear that you admire them greatly, and that you have been telling to your tribe tales of their greatness in war and of their virtues." "i have done so," beric replied. "a race could not conquer the world as the romans have done unless they had many virtues; but those that i chiefly told of are the virtues that every briton should lay to heart. i spoke of their patriotism, of the love of country that never failed, of the stern determination that enabled them to pass through the gravest dangers without flinching, and to show a dauntless face to the foe even when dangers were thickest and the country was menaced with destruction. above all, how in rome, though there might be parties and divisions, there were none in the face of a common enemy. then all acted as one man; there was no rivalry save in great deeds. each was ready to give life and all he possessed in defence of his country. these were lessons which i thought it well that every briton should learn and take to heart. rome has conquered us so far because she has been one while we are rent into tribes having no common union; content to sit with our arms folded while our neighbours are crushed, not seeing that our turn will come next. it was so when they first came in the time of our forefathers, it has been so in these latter times; tribe after tribe has been subdued; while, had we been all united, the romans would never have obtained a footing on our shore. no wonder the gods have turned away their faces from a people so blind and so divided when all was at stake. yes, i have learned much from the romans. i have not learned to love them, but i have learned to admire them and to regret that in many respects my own countrymen did not resemble them." there was a murmur of surprise among the chiefs who had by this time gathered round, while angry exclamations broke from some of the younger men; but aska waved his hand. "beric speaks wisely and truly," he said; "our dissensions have been our ruin. still more, perhaps, the conduct of those who should have led us, but who have made terms with rome in order to secure their own possessions. among these prasutagus was conspicuous, and we ourselves were as much to blame as he was that we suffered it. if he knows what is passing here he himself will see how great are the misfortunes that he has brought upon his queen, his daughters, and the tribe. had we joined our whole forces with those of caractacus the brigantes too might have risen. it took all the strength of the romans to conquer caractacus alone. what could they have done had the brigantes and we from the north, and the whole of the southern tribes, then unbroken, closed down upon them? it is but yesterday since prasutagus was buried. the grass has not yet begun to shoot upon his funeral mound and yet his estates have been seized by the romans, while his wife and daughters have been insulted beyond measure. "the young chief of the sarci has profited by his sojourn among the romans. the druids have told me that the priest who has visited the sarci prophesies great things of him, and for that reason decided that, young as he was, he should share his mother's power and take his place as leader of the tribe in battle, and that he foresaw that, should time be given him to ripen his wisdom and establish his authority, he might some day become a british champion as powerful as cunobeline, as valiant as caractacus. these were the words of one of the wisest of the druids. they have been passed round among the druids, and even now throughout britain there are many who never so much as heard of the name of the sarci, who yet believe that, in this young chief of that tribe, will some day be found a mighty champion of his country. prasutagus knew this also, for as soon as beric returned from camalodunum he begged the druids to find out whether good or evil was to be looked for from this youth, who had been brought up among the romans, and their report to him tallied with that which i myself heard from them. it was for that reason that boadicea sent for him with his mother, although so much younger than any here, and belonging to a tribe that is but a small one among the iceni. i asked these questions of him, knowing that among some of you there were doubts whether his stay with the romans had not rendered him less a briton. he answered as i expected from him, boldly and fearlessly, and, as you have heard wisely, and i for one believe in the predictions of the druids. but here comes the queen." as he spoke a number of chariots issued from the path through the forest into the circular clearing, in the centre of which stood the majestic oak, and at the same moment, from the opposite side, appeared a procession of white robed druids singing a loud chant. as the chariots drew up, the queen and her two daughters alighted from them, with a number of chiefs of importance from the branches of the tribe near her capital. beric had never seen her before, and was struck with her aspect. she was a tall and stately woman, large in her proportions, with her yellow hair falling below her waist. she wore no ornaments or insignia of her high rank; her dress and those of her daughters were careless and disordered, indicative of mourning and grief, but the expression of her face was that of indignation and passion rather than of humiliation. upon alighting she acknowledged the greeting of the assembled chiefs with a slight gesture, and then remained standing with her eyes fixed upon the advancing druids. when these reached the sacred tree they encircled it seven times, still continuing their chanting, and then ranged themselves up under its branches with the chief druid standing in front. they had already been consulted privately by the queen and had declared for war; but it was necessary that the decision should be pronounced solemnly beneath the shade of the sacred oak. "why come you here, woman?" the chief priest asked, addressing the queen. "i come as a supplicant to the gods," she said; "as an outraged queen, a dishonoured woman, and a broken hearted mother, and in each of these capacities i call upon my country's gods for vengeance." then in passionate words she poured out the story of the indignities that she and her daughters had suffered, and suddenly loosening her garment, and suffering it to drop to her waist, she turned and showed the marks of the roman rods across her back, the sight eliciting a shout of fury from the chiefs around her. "let all retire to the woods," the druids said, "and see that no eye profanes our mysteries. when the gods have answered we will summon you." the queen, followed by all the chiefs, retired at once to the forest, while the druids proceeded to carry out the sacred mysteries. although all knew well what the decision would be, they waited with suppressed excitement the summons to return and hear the decision that was to embark them in a desperate struggle with rome. some threw themselves down under the trees, some walked up and down together discussing in low tones the prospects of a struggle, and the question what tribes would join it. the queen and her daughters sat apart, none venturing to approach them. parta and three other female chiefs sat a short distance away talking together, while two or three of the younger chiefs, their attitude towards beric entirely altered by the report of the druids' predictions concerning him, gathered round him and asked questions concerning the romans' methods of fighting, their arms and power. an hour after they had retired a deep sound of a conch rose in the air. the queen and her daughters at once moved forward, followed by the four female chiefs, behind whom came the rest in a body. issuing from the forest they advanced to the sacred oak and stood in an attitude of deep respect, while the chief druid announced the decision of the gods. "the gods have spoken," he said. "too long have the iceni stood aloof from their countrymen, therefore have the gods withdrawn their faces from them; therefore has punishment and woe fallen upon them. prasutagus is dead; his queen and his daughters have suffered the direst indignities; a roman has seized the wealth heaped up by inglorious cowardice. but the moment has come; the gods have suffered their own altars to be desecrated in order that over the whole length and breadth of the land the cry for vengeance shall arise simultaneously. the cup is full; vengeance is at hand upon the oppressors and tyrants, the land reeks with british blood. not content with grasping our possessions, our lives and the honour of our women are held as nought by them, our altars are cold, our priests slaughtered. the hour of vengeance is at hand. i see the smoke of burning cities ascending in the air. i hear the groans of countless victims to british vengeance. i see broken legions and flying men. "to arms! the gods have spoken. strike for vengeance. strike for the gods. strike for your country and outraged queen. chiefs of the iceni, to arms! may the curse of the gods fall upon an enemy who draws back in the day of battle! may the gods give strength to your arms and render you invincible in battle! the gods have spoken." a mighty shout was raised by his hearers; swords were brandished, and spears shaken, and the cry "to arms! the gods have spoken," was repeated unanimously. as the druids closed round their chief, who had been seized with strong convulsions as soon as he had uttered the message of the gods, boadicea turned to the chiefs and raised her arm for silence. "i am a queen again; i reign once more over a race of men. no longer do i feel the smart of my stripes, for each shall ere long be washed out in roman blood; but before action, counsel, and before counsel, food, for you have, many of you, come from afar. i have ordered a feast to be prepared in the forest." she led the way across the opposite side of the glade, where, a few hundred yards in the forest, a number of the queen's slaves had prepared a feast of roasted sheep, pig, and ox, with bread and jars of drink formed of fermented honey, and a sort of beer. as soon as the meal was concluded the queen called the chiefs round her, and the assembly was joined by the druids. "war is declared," she said; "the question is shall we commence at once, or shall we wait?" there was a general response "at once!" but the chief druid stepped forward and said: "my sons, we must not risk the ruin of all by undue haste; this must be a national movement if it is to succeed. for a fortnight we must keep quiet, preparing everything for war, so that we may take the field with every man capable of bearing arms in the tribe. in the meantime we, with the aid of the bards, will spread the news of the outrages that the romans have committed upon the queen and her daughters far and wide over the land. already the tribes are burning with indignation at the insults to our gods and the slaughter of our priests at mona, and this news will arouse them to madness, for what is done here today may be done elsewhere tomorrow, and all men will see that only in the total destruction of the romans is there a hope of freedom. all will be bidden to prepare for war, and, when the news comes that the iceni have taken up arms, to assemble and march to join us. on this day fortnight, then, let every chief with his following meet at cardun, which is but a short march from camalodunum. then we will rush upon the roman city, the scene of the outrage to your queen, and its smoke shall tell britain that she is avenged, and rome that her day of oppression is over." the decision was received with satisfaction. a fortnight was none too long for making preparations, assembling the tribesmen, and marching to the appointed spot. "one thing i claim," boadicea said, "and that is the right to fall upon and destroy instantly the romans who installed themselves in my capital, and who are the authors of the outrages upon my daughters. so long as they live and lord it there i cannot return." "that is right and just," the druid said. "slay all but ten, and hand them over bound to us to be sacrificed on the altars of the gods they have insulted." "i will undertake that task, as my tribe lies nearest the capital," one of the chiefs said. "i will assemble them tonight and fall upon the romans at daybreak." "see that none escape," the druid said. "kill them and all their slaves and followers. let not one live to carry the news to camalodunum." "i shall be at the meeting place and march at your head," the queen said to the chiefs; "that victory will be ours i do not doubt; but if the gods will it otherwise i swear that i shall not survive defeat. ye gods, hear my vow." the council was now over, and the queen mingled with the chiefs, saying a few words to each. beric was presented to her by his mother, and boadicea was particularly gracious to him. "i have heard great things predicted of you, beric. the gods have marked you out for favour, and their priests tell me that you will be one day a great champion of the britons. so may it be. i shall watch you on the day of battle, and am assured that none among the iceni will bear themselves more worthily." an hour later the meeting broke up, and parta and beric returned to cardun, where they at once began to make preparations for the approaching conflict. every man in the tribe was summoned to attend, and the exercises went on from daybreak till dusk, while the women cooked and waited upon the men. councils were held nightly in the hall, and to each of the chiefs was assigned a special duty, the whole tribe being treated as a legion, and every chief and fighting man having his place and duty assigned to him. in camalodunum, although nothing was known of the preparations that were being made, a feeling of great uneasiness prevailed. the treatment of boadicea had excited grave disapproval upon the part of the great majority of the inhabitants, although new arrivals from gaul or rome and the officials in the suite of decianus lauded his action as an act of excellent policy. "these british slaves must be taught to feel the weight of our arm," they said, "and a lesson such as this will be most useful. is it for dogs like these to complain because they are whipped? they must be taught to know that they live but at our pleasure; that this island and all it contains is ours. they have no rights save those we choose to give them." but the older settlers viewed the matter very differently. they knew well enough that it was only after hard fighting that vespasian had subdued the south, and ostorius crushed caractacus. they knew, too, that the iceni gave but a nominal submission to rome, and that the trinobantes, crushed as they were, had been driven to the verge of madness by extortion. moreover the legions were far away; camalodunum was well nigh undefended, and lay almost at the mercy of the britons should they attack. they, therefore, denounced the treatment of boadicea as not only brutal but as impolitic in the extreme. the sudden cessation of news from the officials who had gone to take possession of the estate of prasutagus caused considerable uneasiness among this section of the inhabitants of camalodunum. messengers were sent off every day to inquire as to what had taken place after the return of boadicea, but none came back. the feeling of uneasiness was heightened by the attitude of the natives. reports came in from all parts of the district that they had changed their attitude, that they no longer crouched at the sight of a roman but bore themselves defiantly, that there were meetings at night in the forest, and that the women sang chants and performed dances which had evidently some hidden meaning. decianus, conscious perhaps that his action was strongly disapproved by all the principal inhabitants of the town, and that, perhaps, suetonius would also view it in the same light when it was reported to him, had left the city a few days after the occurrence and had gone to verulamium. his absence permitted the general feeling of apprehension and discontentment more open expression than it would otherwise have had. brave as the romans were, they were deeply superstitious, and a thrill of horror and apprehension ran through the city when it was reported one morning that the statute of victory in the temple had fallen to the ground, and had turned round as if it fled towards the sea. this presage of evil created a profound impression. "what do you think of it, cneius?" berenice asked; "it is terrible, is it not? nothing else is spoken of among all the ladies i have seen today, and all agree it forbodes some terrible evil." "it may, or it may not," the old scribe said cautiously; "if the statue has fallen by the action of the gods the omen is surely a most evil one." "but how else could it have fallen, cneius?" "well, my dear, there are many britons in the town, and you know they are in a very excited state; their women, indeed, seem to have gone well nigh mad with their midnight singing and wailing. it is possible--mind, i do not for a moment say that it is so, for were the suggestion to occur to the citizens it would lead to fresh oppressions and cruelties against the britons--but it is just possible that some of them may have entered the temple at night and overthrown victory's image as an act of defiance. you know how the women nightly shriek out their prophecies of the destruction of this town." "but could they destroy it, cneius? surely they would never dare to attack a great roman city like this!" "i don't know whether they dare or not, berenice, but assuredly decianus is doing all in his power to excite them to such a pitch of despair that they might dare do anything; and if they dare, i see nothing whatever to prevent them from taking the city. the works erected after claudius first founded the colony are so vast that they would require an army to defend them, while there are but a few hundred soldiers here. what could they do against a horde of barbarians? i would that your father were back, and also the two legions who marched away to join suetonius. before they went they ought to have erected a central fort here, to which all could retire in case of danger, and hold out until suetonius came back to our assistance; but you see, when they went away none could have foreseen what has since taken place. no one could have dreamt that decianus would have wantonly stirred up the iceni to revolt." "but you don't think they have revolted?" "i know nothing of it, berenice, but i can put two and two together. we have heard nothing for a week from the officials who went to seize the possessions of prasutagus. how is it that none of our messengers have returned? it seems to me almost certain that these men have paid for their conduct to the daughters of boadicea with their lives." "but beric is with the iceni. surely we should hear from him if danger threatened." "he is with them," cneius said, "but he is a chief, and if the tribe are in arms he is in arms also, and cannot, without risking the forfeit of his life for treachery, send hither a message that would put us on our guard. i believe in the lad. four years i taught him, and i think i know his nature. he is honest and true. he is one of the iceni and must go with his countrymen; but i am sure he is grateful for the kindness he received here, and has a real affection for you, therefore i believe, that should my worst fears be verified, and the iceni attack camalodunum, he will do his utmost to save you." "but they will not kill women and girls surely, even if they did take the city?" "i fear that they will show slight mercy to any, berenice; why should they? we have shown no mercy to them; we have slaughtered their priests and priestesses, and at the storm of their towns have put all to death without distinction of age or sex. if we, a civilized people, thus make war, what can you expect from the men upon whom we have inflicted such countless injuries?" the fall of the statue of victory was succeeded by other occurrences in which the awestruck inhabitants read augury of evil. it was reported that strange noises had been heard in the council house and theatre, while men out in boats brought back the tale that there was the appearance of a sunken town below the water. it was currently believed that the sea had assumed the colour of blood, and that there were, when the tide went out, marks upon the sand as if dead bodies had been lying there. even the boldest veterans were dismayed at this accumulation of hostile auguries. a council of the principal citizens was held, and an urgent message despatched to decianus, praying that he would take instance measures for the protection of the city. in reply to this he despatched two hundred soldiers from verulamium, and these with the small body of troops already in the city took possession of the temple of claudius, and began to make preparations for putting it into a state of defence. still no message had come from norwich, but night after night the british women declared that the people of camalodunum would suffer the same fate that had already overwhelmed those who had ventured to insult the daughters of the queen of the iceni. a strange terror had now seized the inhabitants of the town. the apprehension of danger weighted upon all, and the peril seemed all the more terrible inasmuch as it was so vague. nothing was known for certain. no message had come from the iceni since the queen quitted the town, and yet it was felt that among the dark woods stretching north a host of foes was gathering, and might at any moment pour down upon the city. orders were issued that at the approach of danger all who could do so were to betake themselves at once to the temple, which was to act as a citadel, yet no really effective measures were taken. there was, indeed, a vague talk of sending the women and children and valuables away to the legion, commanded by cerealis, stationed in a fortified camp to the south, but nothing came of it; all waited for something definite, some notification that the britons had really revolted, and while waiting for this nothing was done. one evening a slave brought in a small roll of vellum to cneius. it had been given him at the door, he said, by a briton, who had at once left after placing it in his hands. the scribe opened it and read as follows:-"to cneius nepo, greeting--obtain british garb for yourself and berenice. let her apparel be that of a boy. should anything unusual occur by night or day, do you and she disguise yourselves quickly, and stir not beyond the house. it will be best for you to wait in the tablinum; lose no time in carrying out this instruction." there was no signature, nor was any needed. "so the storm is about to burst," cneius said thoughtfully when he had read it. "i thought so. i was sure that if the britons had a spark of manhood left in them they would avenge the cruel wrongs of their queen. i am rejoiced to read beric's words, and to see that he has, as i felt sure he had, a grateful heart. he would save us from the fate that he clearly thinks is about to overwhelm this place. the omens have not lied then--not that i believe in them; they are for the most part the offspring of men's fancy, but at any rate they will come true this time. i care little for myself, but i must do as he bids me for the sake of the girl. i doubt, though whether beric can save her. these people have terrible wrongs to avenge, and at their first outburst will spare none. well, i must do my best, and late as it is i will go out and purchase these garments. it is not likely that the danger will come tonight, for he would have given us longer notice. still he may have had no opportunity, and may not have known until the last moment when the attack was to take place. he says 'lose no time.'" cneius at once went to one of the traders who dealt with the natives who came into the town, and procured the garments for himself and berenice. the trader, who knew him by sight, remarked, "have you been purchasing more slaves?" "no, but i have need for dresses for two persons who have done me some service." "i should have thought," the trader said, "they would have preferred lighter colours. these cloths are sombre, and the natives, although their own cloths are for the most part dark, prefer, when they buy of me, brighter colours." "these will do very well," cneius said, "just at present roman colours and cloths are not likely to be in demand among them." "no, the times are bad," the trader said; "there has been scarce a native in my shop for the last ten days, and even among the townspeople there has been little buying or selling." cneius returned to the house, a slave carrying his purchases behind him. on reaching home he took the parcel from him, and carried it to his own cubicule, and then ordered a slave to beg berenice to come down from her apartment as he desired to speak with her. chapter v: the sack of camalodunum upon the morning of the day fixed for the gathering of the iceni preparations were begun early at cardun. oxen and swine were slaughtered, great fires made, and the women in the village were all employed in making and baking oaten cakes upon the hearth. for some days many of them had been employed in making a great store of fermented honey and water. men began to flock in from an early hour, and by midday every male of the sarci capable of bearing arms had come in. each brought with him a supply of cooked meat and cakes sufficient to last for three or four days. in the afternoon the tribes began to pour in, each tribe under its chiefs. there was no attempt at order or regularity; they came trooping in in masses, the chiefs sometimes in chariots sometimes on horseback, riding at their head. parta welcomed them, and food was served out to the men while the chiefs were entertained in the hall. beric, looking at the wild figures, rough and uncouth but powerful and massive in frame, was filled with regret that these men knew nothing of discipline, and that circumstances had forced on the war so suddenly. the contrast between these wild figures and the disciplined veterans of rome, whom he had so often watched as they performed their exercises, was striking indeed. far inferior in height and muscular power to the tribesmen, the legionaries bore themselves with a proud consciousness in their fighting power that alone went a long way towards giving them victory. each man trusted not only in himself, but on his fellows, and believed that the legion to which he belonged was invincible. their regular arms, their broad shields and helmets, all added to their appearance, while their massive formation, as they stood shoulder to shoulder, shield touching shield, seemed as if it could defy the utmost efforts of undisciplined valour. however, beric thought with pride that his own tribe, the sixteen hundred men he had for six weeks been training incessantly, would be a match even for the roman veterans. their inferiority in the discipline that was carried to such perfection among the romans would be atoned for by their superior strength and activity. his only fear was, that in the excitement of battle they would forget their teaching, and, breaking their ranks, fight every man for himself. he had, however, spared no pains in impressing upon them that to do this would be to throw away all that they had learned. "i have not taught you to fight in roman fashion," he said, "merely that you might march in regular order and astonish the other tribesmen, but that you should be cool and collected, should be able patiently to stand the shock of the roman legion, and to fight, not as scattered units, but as a solid whole. you will do well to bear this in mind, for to those who disobey orders and break the line when engaged with the foe i will show no mercy. my orders will be given to each sergeant of ten men to run a spear through any man who stirs from his post, whether in advance or in retreat, whether to slay or to plunder. the time may come when the safety of the whole army depends upon your standing like a wall between them and the romans, and the man who advances from his place in the ranks will, as much as the man who retreats, endanger the safety of all." over and over again had he impressed this lesson upon them. sometimes he had divided them in two parts, and engaged in mimic fight. the larger half, representing the tribesmen, advanced in their ordinary fashion with loud shouts and cries, while the smaller section maintained their solid formation, and with levelled spears, five deep, waited the attack. even those who were least impressed with the advantages of the exercises through which they had been going, could not but feel how immensely superior was the solid order, and how impossible would it have been for assailants to burst through the hedge of pointed weapons. by sunset well nigh thirty thousand men had arrived, each subtribe passing through the village and taking up its post on the slopes around it, where they were at once supplied with food by the women. with the fighting men were large numbers of women, for these generally accompanied the britons on their warlike expeditions. just at sunset a shout arose from the tribesmen on the north side of the village, and boadicea, with her daughters and chief councillors, drove into the village. her mien was proud and lofty. she carried a spear in her hand and a sword in her girdle. she had resumed her royal ornaments, and a fillet of gold surrounded her head. her garments were belted in with a broad girdle of the same metal, and she wore heavy gold armlets and bracelets. she looked with pride upon the tribesmen who thronged shouting to greet her, and exclaimed as she leapt from her chariot, "the day of vengeance is at hand." the fires blazed high all that night round cardun. numbers of bards had accompanied the tribes, as not only had those who lived in the households of the principal chiefs come in, but many had been attracted from the country lying near their borders. at every fire, therefore, songs were sung and tales told of the valour and glory of the heroes of old. mingled with these were laments over the evil days that had befallen britain, and exhortations to their hearers to avenge the past and prove themselves worthy of their ancestors. in similar manner the night was passed in parta's hall. here the chief bards were assembled, with all the tribal leaders, and vied with each other in their stirring chants. beric moved about among the guests, seeing that their wants were supplied, while parta herself looked after those who were gathered on the dais. beric learned from the old chief aska, who had first spoken to him on the day of their arrival at the sacred oak, that all britain was ripe for the rising, and that messengers had been received not only from the brigantes, but from many of the southern and western tribes, with assurances that they would rise as soon as they heard that the iceni had struck the first blow. "the trinobantes will join us at camalodunum. all goes well. suetonius, with the legions, is still in the far west. we shall make an end of them here before he can return. by that time we shall have been joined by most of the tribes, and shall have a force that will be sufficient to destroy utterly the army he is leading. that done, there will be but the isolated forts to capture and destroy, and then britain will be free from the invader. you think this will be so, beric?" "i hope and trust so," beric replied. "i think that success in our first undertakings is a certainty, and i trust we may defeat suetonius. with such numbers as we shall put in the field we ought surely to be able to do so. it is not of the present i think so much as of the future. rome never submits to defeat, and will send an army here to which that of suetonius would be but a handful. but if we remain united, and utilize the months that must elapse before the romans can arrive in preparing for the conflict, we ought to be victorious." "you feel sure that the romans will try to reconquer britain?" "quite sure. in all their history there is not an instance where they have submitted to defeat. this is one of the main reasons of their success. i am certain that, at whatever sacrifices, they will equip and send out an army that they will believe powerful enough for the purpose." "but they were many years after their first invasion before they came again." "that is true; but in those first two invasions they did not conquer. in the first they were forced to retire, and therefore came again; in the second they had success enough to be able to claim a victory and so to retire with honour. besides, rome is vastly stronger and more powerful now than she was then. believe me, aska, the struggle will be but begun when we have driven the last roman from the island." "we must talk of this again," aska said, "as it is upon us that the brunt of this struggle will fall. we shall have the chief voice and influence after it is over, and boadicea will stand in the place that cunobeline held, of chief king of the island. then, as you say, much will depend on the steps we take to prepare to resist the next invasion; and young as you are, your knowledge of roman ways will render your counsels valuable, and give great weight to your advice." "i do not wish to put myself in any way in the foreground," beric said. "i am still but a boy, and have no wish to raise my voice in the council of chiefs; but what i have learned of roman history and roman laws i would gladly explain to those who, like yourself, speak with the voice of authority, and whose wisdom all recognize." in the morning boadicea said that reports had been brought to her of the manner in which beric had been teaching the sarci to fight in roman fashion, and that she should be glad to see the result. accordingly the tribesmen proceeded to the open fields a mile away, where they had been accustomed to drill, and they were followed by the whole of those gathered round the village. the queen and parta drove out in their chariots. when they reached the spot the chiefs of the other tribes, at beric's request, called upon their men to draw off and leave a space sufficient for the exercises. this left the sarci standing in scattered groups over the open space, at one end of which boadicea and all the chiefs were gathered. "they are now in the position, queen," beric said, "of men unsuspecting danger. i shall now warn them that they are about to be attacked, and that they are to gather instantly to repel the enemy." taking the conch slung over his shoulder beric applied it to his lips and blew three short notes. the tribesmen ran together; there was, as it seemed to the lookers on, a scene of wild confusion for a minute, and then they were drawn up in companies, each a hundred strong, in regular order. a short blast and a long one, and they moved up together into a mass five deep; a single note, and the spears fell, and an array of glistening points shone in front of them. a shout of surprise and approval rose from the tribesmen looking on. to them this perfect order and regularity seemed well nigh miraculous. beric now advanced to the line. at his order the two rear ranks stepped backwards a few feet, struck their spears in the ground, and then discharged their javelins--of which each man carried six--over the heads of the ranks in front, against the enemy supposed to be advancing to attack them. then seizing their spears they fell into line again, and at another order the whole advanced at a quick pace with levelled spears to the charge, and keeping on till within a few paces of where the queen was standing, halted suddenly and raised their spears. again a roar of applause came from the tribesmen. "it is wonderful," the queen said. "i had not thought that men could be taught so to move together; and that is how the romans fight, beric?" "it is, queen," beric said. "the exercises are exactly similar to those of the romans. i learnt them by heart when i was among them, and the orders are exactly the same as those given in the legions--only, of course, they are performed by trained soldiers more perfectly than we can as yet do them. it is but two months since we began, and the romans have practised them for years. had i time you would have seen them much more perfect than at present." "you have performed marvels," she said. "i wish that you had had more time, and that all the iceni, and not the sarci only could have thus learned to meet the enemy. do you not think so, chiefs?" "it is wonderful," one of the chiefs said; "but i think that it is not so terrifying to a foe as the rush of our own men. it is better for resistance, but not so good for attack. still it has great merits; but i think it more suited for men who fight deliberately, like the romans, than for our own tribesmen, who are wont to rely for victory each upon his own strength and valour." "what say you, beric?" the queen asked. "it would be presumptuous for me to give my opinion against that of a great chief," beric said quietly; "but, so far, strength and valour have not in themselves succeeded. the men of caractacus had both, but they were unavailing against the solid roman line. we have never yet won a great victory over the romans, and yet we have fought against them valiantly. none can say that a briton is not as brave and as strong as a roman. in our battles we have always outnumbered them. if we have been beaten, therefore, it has been surely because the roman method of fighting is superior to our own." there was a murmur of assent from several of the chiefs. "beric's argument is a strong one," the queen said to the one who had spoken; "and i would that all the iceni had learnt to fight in this fashion. however, we shall have opportunities of seeing which is right before we have finished with the romans. march your men back again, beric." beric sounded his horn, and the line, facing half round, became a column, and marched in regular order back to the village. the morning meal was now taken, and at midday the march began. boadicea with her daughters, parta and other women of rank, went first in their chariots; and the sarci, who, as lying next to the enemy's country, were allowed the post of honour, followed in column behind her, while the rest of the tribesmen made their way in a miscellaneous crowd through the forest. they halted among the trees at a distance of four miles from camalodunum, and then rested, for the attack was not to take place until daybreak on the next morning. late that evening two or three women of the trinobantes came out, in accordance with a preconcerted arrangement, to tell them that there was no suspicion at camalodunum of the impending danger; and that, although there was great uneasiness among the inhabitants, no measures for defence had been taken, and that even the precaution of sending away the women and children had not been adopted. no fires had been lighted; the men slept in the open air, simply wrapping themselves in their mantles and lying down under the trees. beric had a long talk with boduoc and ten of the tribesmen of the latter's company. "you understand," beric said at last, "that if, as i expect, the surprise will be complete and no regular resistance be offered, i shall sound my horn and give the signal for the tribe to break ranks and scatter. you ten men will, however, keep together, and at once follow boduoc and myself. as soon as we enter the house to which i shall lead you, you will surround the two persons i shall place in your charge, and will conduct them to the spot where the chariot will be waiting. you will defend them, if necessary, with your lives, should any disobey my order to let you pass through with them. as soon as they are placed in the chariot you will be free to join in the sack, and if you should be losers by the delay, i will myself make up your share to that of your comrades. you are sure, boduoc, that all the other arrangements are perfect?" "everything is arranged," boduoc said. "my brother, who drives the chariot that brought your mother's attendants, quite understands that he is to follow as soon as we move off, and keeping a short way behind us is to stop in front of the last house outside the gate until we come. as soon as he has taken them up he will drive off and give them into the charge of our mother, who has promised you to have everything in readiness for them; the skins for beds, drinking vessels, food, and everything else necessary was taken there two days ago. my sisters will see to the comfort of the young lady, and you can rely upon my mother to carry out all the orders you have given her. our hut lies so deeply in the forest that there is little chance of anyone going near it, especially as the whole of the men of the tribe are away." two hours before daylight the iceni moved forward. they were to attack at a number of different points, and each chief had had his position allotted to him. the sarci were to move directly against the northern gate and would form the centre of the attack. each man, by beric's order, carried a faggot so that these could be piled against the wall by the gate and enable them to effect an entrance without the delay that would be incurred in breaking down the massive gates. they passed quietly through the cultivated fields, and past the houses scattered about outside the walls, whose inhabitants had withdrawn into the city since the alarm spread. they halted at a short distance from the gate, for sentries would be on guard there, and remained for nearly an hour, as many of the other tribesmen had a considerably longer distance to go to reach their appointed stations. a faint light was beginning to steal over the sky when, far away on their right, a horn sounded. it was repeated again and again, each time nearer, and ran along far to the left; then, raising their war cry, the sarci dashed forward to the gate. the shouts of the sentinels on the walls had arisen as soon as the first horn sounded, and had scarcely died away when the sarci reached the gate. each man as he arrived threw down his faggot, and the pile soon reached the top of the wall. then beric led the way up and stood on the roman work. the sentries, seeing the hopelessness of resistance, had already fled, and the sarci poured in. a confused clamour of shouts and cries rose from the town, above which sounded the yells of the exulting iceni. beric gave the signal for the sarci to scatter, and the tribesmen at once began to attack the houses. placing himself at the head of boduoc's chosen party, beric ran forward. already from some of the houses armed men were pouring out, but disregarding these beric pressed on until he reached the house of caius muro. his reason for haste was that, standing rather on the other side of the town, it was nearer the point assailed by one of the other divisions of the tribe than to the north gate, and he feared that others might arrive there before him. reaching the door he beat upon it with the handle of his sword. "open, cneius," he shouted, "it is i, beric." the door was opened at once, and he ran forward into the atrium, which was filled with frightened slaves, who burst into cries of terror as, followed by his men, he entered. "where are you, cneius?" beric shouted. "i am here," the scribe replied from his cubicule, "i will be with you in a moment; it is but a minute since we were awoke by the uproar." "be quick!" beric said, "there is not a moment to be lost. "run up to the women's apartments," he said to a slave, "and tell your mistress to hurry down, for that every minute is precious." almost immediately berenice came down the stairs in her disguise as a british boy, and at the same moment cneius issued from his room. "come, berenice," beric said, "there is not a moment to be lost; the town is in our hands, and if others of the tribe arrive i might not be able to save you." hurrying them from the house he ordered the men to close round them, and then started on his way back. a terrible din was going on all round; yells, shouts, and screams arising from every house. flames were bursting up at a dozen points. to his great satisfaction beric reached the point where the sarci were at work, breaking into the houses, before he encountered any of the other iceni. the men were too busy to pay any attention to the little group of their own tribesmen; passing through these they were soon at the gate. it already stood open, the bolts having been drawn by those who first entered. fifty yards from the wall stood the chariot. "now you can leave us," beric said to his followers, "i will rejoin you soon." berenice was crying bitterly, horror stricken at the sounds she had heard, though happily she had seen nothing, being closely shut in by the tall forms of her guard. "thanks be to the gods that i have saved you, berenice," beric said, "and you also, cneius! now i must commit you to the care of the driver of the chariot, who is one of my tribesmen. he will take you to a retreat where you will, i trust, be in perfect safety until the troubles are over. his mother has promised to do all in her power for your comfort. you will find one of our huts but a rough abode, but it will at least be a shelter." "cannot you come with us, beric?" the girl sobbed. "that i cannot do, berenice. i am a briton and a chief, and i must be with my tribe. and now i must away. farewell, berenice! may your gods and mine watch over you! farewell, my kind teacher!" he took off the torque, the collar formed of a number of small metal cords interlaced with each other, the emblem of rank and command, and handed it to the driver. "you will show this, runoc, to any you meet, for it may be that you will find parties of late comers on the road. this will be a proof that you are journeying on my business and under my orders. do not stop and let them question you, but drive quickly along, and if they should shout and bid you stop, hold up the torque and shout, 'i travel at speed by my chief's orders.' "do you both sit down in the chariot," he said to the others. "then as you journey rapidly along it will be supposed that you are either wounded or messengers of importance. farewell!" cneius and the girl had already mounted the chariot, and the driver now gave the horses rein and started at full speed. beric turned and re-entered the town slowly. in those days pity for the vanquished was a sentiment but little comprehended, and he had certainly not learned it among the romans, who frequently massacred their prisoners wholesale. woe to the vanquished! was almost a maxim with them. but beric shrank from witnessing the scene, now that the tables were turned upon the oppressors. nationally he hated the romans, but individually he had no feeling against them, and had he had the power he would at once have arrested the effusion of blood. he wished to drive them from the kingdom, not to massacre them; but he knew well that he had no power whatever in such a matter. even his own tribesmen would not have stayed their hand at his command. to slay a roman was to them a far more meritorious action than to slay a wolf, and any one who urged mercy would have been regarded not only as a weakling but as a traitor. already the work was well nigh done. pouring in on all sides into the city the iceni had burst into the houses and slain their occupants whether they resisted or not. a few men here and there sold their lives dearly, but the great majority had been too panic stricken with the sudden danger to attempt the slightest resistance. some of the inhabitants whose houses were near the temple had fled thither for refuge before the assailants reached them, but in half an hour from the striking of the first blow these and the troops there were the sole survivors of the population of camalodunum. for the present the temple was disregarded. it was known that the garrison did not exceed four hundred men, and there was no fear of so small a body assuming the offensive. the work of destruction had commenced. there was but little plundering, for the britons despised the roman luxuries, of the greater part of which they did not even comprehend the use. they were roman, and therefore to be hated as well as despised. save, therefore, weapons, which were highly prized, and gold ornaments, which were taken as trinkets for the women at home, nothing was saved. as the defenders of each house were slain, fire was applied to hangings and curtains, and then the assailants hurried away in search of fresh victims. thus the work of destruction proceeded concurrently with that of massacre, and as the sun rose vast columns of smoke mounting upwards conveyed the news to the women of the iceni and trinobantes for a circle of many miles round, that the attack had been successful, and that camalodunum, the seat of their oppressors, was in flames. beric, as he made his way towards the centre of the town, sighed as he passed the shop where two months before he had stopped a moment to look at the rolls of vellum. the destruction of the monuments of roman luxury; the houses with their costly contents; and even the palace of cunobeline, which had been converted into the residence of the roman governor, had not affected him; but he mourned over the loss of the precious manuscripts which had contained such a wealth of stored up learning. already the house was wrapped in flames, which were rushing from the windows, and the prize which he had looked upon as his own special share of the plunder had escaped him. at the edge of the broad open space that surrounded the temple of claudius the britons were gathering thickly. beric applied his horn to his lips, and in a few minutes the sarci gathered round him. bidding them stand in order he moved away to see what disposition was being made for the attack on the temple, but at present all were too excited with their success for any to assume the lead or give orders. at the first rush parties of the britons had made for the temple, but had been received with showers of darts and stones, and had been met on the steps by the roman soldiers and roughly repulsed. walking round he came upon the chariot of boadicea. the queen was flushed with excitement and gratified vengeance, and was shaking her spear menacingly towards the temple; her eye presently fell upon beric. "the work has begun well, my young chief, but we have still to crush the wolves in their den. it is a strong place, with its massive walls unpierced save by the doorway at each end; but we will have them out if to do so we are forced to tear it down stone by stone." "i trust that we shall not be as long as that would take, queen," beric said, "for we have other work to do." just at this moment one of the chiefs of the trinobantes came up. "queen boadicea," he said, "we crave that we may be allowed to storm the temple. it is built on our ground as a sign of our subjection, and we would fain ourselves capture it." "be it so," the queen replied. "do you undertake the task at once." the trinobantes, who had joined the iceni in the attack on the town, presently gathered with loud shouts, and under their chiefs rushed at the temple. from the roof darts and stones were showered down upon them; but though many were killed they swarmed up the broad steps that surrounded it on all sides and attacked the doors. beric shook his head, and returning to his men led them off down one of the broad streets to an open space a short distance away. "this will be our gathering place," he said. "do not wander far away, and return quickly at the sound of my horn. we may be wanted presently. i do not think that the trinobantes will take the temple in that fashion." they had indeed advanced entirely unprovided with proper means of assault. the massive gates against which the romans had piled stones, casks of provisions, and other heavy articles were not to be broken down by such force as the britons could bring against them. in vain these chopped with their swords upon the woodwork. the gates were constructed of oak, and the weapons scarce marked them. in vain they threw themselves twenty abreast against them. the doors hardly quivered at the shock, and in the meantime the assailants were suffering heavily, for from openings in the roof, extending from the building itself to the pillars that surrounded it, the romans dropped missiles upon them. for some time the trinobantes persevered, and then their chiefs, seeing that the attempt was hopeless, called off their followers. no fresh attempt was made for a time, and boadicea established herself in one of the few houses that had escaped the flames, and there presently the chiefs assembled. various suggestions were made, but at last it was decided to batter in the doors with a heavy tree, and a strong party of men were at once despatched to fell and prepare two of suitable size. the operation was a long one, as the trees when found had to be brought down by lighting fires against the trunks, and it was nightfall before they fell and the branches were cut off. it was decided, therefore, to postpone the attack until the next day. beric had not been present at the council, to which only a few of the leading chiefs had been summoned; but he doubted, when he heard what had been decided upon, whether the attack would be successful. it was settled that the trinobantes were to attack the door at one end of the temple, and the iceni that at the other. late in the evening the chariot returned, and beric was greatly relieved to hear that the fugitives had been placed in safety and that the journey had been made without interference. he was glad to recover his torque, for its absence would have excited surprise when men's minds were less occupied and excited. not until he recovered it could he go to see parta, who was lodged with the queen, but as soon as he recovered it he went in. every sign of roman habitation and luxury had been, as far as possible, obliterated by order of boadicea before she entered the house. hangings had been pulled down, statues overthrown, and the paintings on the plaster chipped from the walls. "what have you been doing all day, beric?" his mother asked. "i looked to see you long before this, and should have thought that some accident had befallen you had i not known that the news would have been speedily brought me had it been so." "i have been looking after the tribesmen, mother. i should have come in to see you, but did not wish to intrude among the chiefs in council with the queen. you represented the sarci here, and had we been wanted you would have sent for me. who are to attack the temple tomorrow?" "not the sarci, my son. unser begged that he and his tribe might have the honour, and the queen and council granted it to him." "i am glad of it, mother. the duty is an honourable one, but the loss will be heavy, and others can do the work as well as we could, and i want to keep our men for the shock of battle with the legions. moreover, i doubt whether the doors will be battered down in the way they propose." "you do, beric! and why is that?" the speaker was aska, who had just left the group of chiefs gathered round the queen at the other end of the apartment, and had come close without beric hearing him. the lad coloured. "i spoke only for my mother's hearing, sir," he said. "to no one else should i have ventured to express an opinion on a course agreed upon by those who are older and wiser than myself." "that is right, beric; the young should be silent in the presence of their elders; nevertheless i should like to know why you think the assault is likely to fail." "it was really not my own opinion i was giving, sir. i was thinking of the manner in which the romans, who are accustomed to besiege places with high walls and strong gates, proceed. they have made these matters a study, while to us an attack upon such a place is altogether new, seeing that none such exist in britain save those the romans have erected." "how would they proceed, beric?" "they would treat an attack upon such a place as a serious matter, not to be undertaken rashly and hastily, but only after great preparation. in order to batter down a gate or a wall they use heavy beams, such as those that have been prepared for tomorrow, but they affix to the head a shoe of iron or brass. they do not swing it upon men's arms, seeing that it would be most difficult to get so many men to exercise their strength together, and indeed could not give it the momentum required." "but we propose to have the beam carried by fifty men, and for all to rush forward together and drive it against the door." "if the door were weak and would yield to the first blow that might avail," beric said; "but unless it does so the shock will throw down the tree and the men bearing it. many will be grievously hurt. moreover, if, as will surely be the case, many of the bearers fall under the darts of the romans as they approach, others will stumble over their bodies, and the speed of the whole be greatly checked." "then can you tell me how the romans act in such a case, beric?" "yes, sir. i have frequently heard relations of sieges from soldiers who have taken part in them. they build, in the first place, movable towers or sheds running on wheels. these towers are made strong enough to resist the stones and missiles the besieged may hurl against them. under cover of the shelter men push up the towers to the door or wall to be battered; the beam is then slung on ropes hanging from the inside of the tower. other ropes are attached; numbers of men take hold of these, and working together swing the beam backwards and forwards, so that each time it strikes the wall or door a heavy blow. as the beam is of great weight, and many men work it, the blows are well nigh irresistible, and the strongest walls crumble and the most massive gates splinter under the shock of its iron head." "the romans truly are skilled warriors," aska said. "we are but children in the art of war beside them, and methinks it would be difficult indeed for us to construct such a machine, though mayhap it could be done had we with us many men skilled in the making of chariots. but sometimes, beric, they must have occasion to attack places where such machines could not well be used." "in that case, sir, they sometimes make what they call a tortoise. the soldiers link their broad shields together, so as to form a complete covering, resembling the back of a tortoise, and under shelter of this they advance to the attack. when they reach the foot of the wall all remain immovable save those in the front line, who labour with iron bars to loosen the stones at the foot of the wall, protected from missiles from above by the shields of their comrades. from time to time they are relieved by fresh workers until the foundations of the wall are deeply undermined. as they proceed they erect massive props to keep up the wall, and finally fill up the hole with combustibles. after lighting these they retire. when the props are consumed the wall of course falls, and they then rush forward and climb the breach." "truly, beric, you have profited by your lessons," aska said, laying his hand kindly on the lad's shoulder. "the druids spoke wisely when they prophesied a great future for you. before we have done we may have many roman strongholds to capture, and when we do i will see that the council order that your advice be taken as to how they shall be attacked; but in this matter tomorrow things must remain as they are. unser is a proud chief, and headstrong, and would not brook any interference. should he be repulsed in the assault, i will advise the queen to call up the sarci, and allow you to proceed in your own manner." "i will do my best, sir; but time is needed for proceeding according to the first roman method, and our shields are too small for the second. the place should be taken by tomorrow night, for cerealis will assuredly move with his legion to relieve it as soon as he hears the news of our attack." "that is what has been in our minds," aska said. "well, what do you say, beric? after what i saw the other day of the movements you have taught your tribe i should be sorry to have their ranks thinned in a hopeless attack upon the temple. i would rather that we should leave it for the present and march out to meet cerealis, leaving a guard here to keep the romans hemmed in until we have time to deal with them." beric stood for a minute or two without answering, and then said, "i will undertake it, sir, with the sarci should unser's attack fail." chapter vi: first successes upon leaving his mother, beric returned to the spot where the sarci were lying. some of the chiefs were sitting round a fire made of beams and woodwork dragged from the ruins of the roman houses. "we must be up an hour before daybreak; i think that there will be work for us tomorrow. if unser and his tribe fail in capturing the temple we are to try; and there will be preparations to make." and he explained the plan upon which he had determined. daylight was just breaking when the sarci entered the forest four miles from camalodunum. here they scattered in search of dry wood. in two hours sufficient had been gathered for their purpose, and it was made up into two hundred great faggots nearly four feet across and ten in length, in weight as much as a strong man could carry on his head. with these they returned to the city. it needed no questions as to the result of the attack, which had just terminated with the same fortune that had befallen that on the day previous. unser had been killed, and large numbers of his men had fallen in their vain attempts to hew down the gates. the battering rams had proved a complete failure. many of the fifty men who carried the beam had fallen as they advanced. the others had rushed at the gate door, but the recoil had thrown them down, and many had had their limbs broken from the tree falling on them. attempts had been made to repeat the assault; but the romans having pierced the under part of the roof in many places, let fall javelins and poured down boiling oil; and at last, having done all that was possible, but in vain, the tribesmen had fallen back. beric proceeded at once to the queen's. a council was being held, and it had just been determined to march away to meet cerealis when beric entered. aska left his place in the circle of chiefs as soon as he saw him enter the door. "are you ready to undertake it, beric? do not do so unless you have strong hopes of success. the repulses of yesterday and today have lowered the spirits of our men, and another failure would still further harm us." "i will undertake it, aska, and i think i can answer for success; but i shall need three hours before i begin." "that could be spared," the chief said. "cerealis will not have learned the news until last night at the earliest--he may not know it yet. there is no fear of his arriving here until tomorrow." then he returned to his place. "before we finally decide, queen," he said, "i would tell you that the young chief beric is ready to attack the place with the sarci. he has learned much of the roman methods, and may be more fortunate than the others have been. i would suggest that he be allowed to try, for it will have a very ill effect upon the tribes if we fail in taking the temple, which is regarded as the symbol of roman dominion. i will even go so far as to say that a retreat now would go very far to mar our hopes of success in the war, for the news would spread through the country and dispirit others now preparing to join us." "why should beric succeed when unser has failed?" one of the chiefs said. "can a lad achieve a success where one of our best and bravest chiefs has been repulsed?" "i think that he might," aska replied. "at any rate, as he is ready to risk his life and his tribe in doing so, i pray the queen to give her consent. he demands three hours to make his preparations for the attack." "he shall try," boadicea said decidedly. "you saw the other day, chiefs, how well he has learned the roman methods of war. he shall have an opportunity now of turning his knowledge to account. parta, you are willing that your son should try?" "certainly i am willing," parta said. "he can but die once; he cannot die in a nobler effort for his country." "then it is settled," the queen said. "the sarci will attack in three hours." as soon as beric heard the decision he hurried away and at once ordered the tribesmen to scatter through the country and to kill two hundred of the cattle roaming at present masterless, to strip off their hides, and bring them in. they returned before the three hours expired, bringing in the hides. in the meantime beric had procured from a half consumed warehouse a quantity of oil, pitch, and other combustibles, and had smeared the faggots with them. on the arrival of the men with the hides, these were bound with the raw side upwards over the faggots. two hundred of the strongest men of the tribe were then chosen and divided into two parties, and the rest being similarly divided, took their station at the ends of the square facing the gates. when beric sounded his horn the faggot bearers raised their burdens on to their heads and formed in a close square, ten abreast, with the faggots touching each other. beric himself commanded the party facing the principal entrance, and holding a blazing torch in each hand, took his place in the centre of the square, there being ample room for him between the lines of men. the rest of the tribe were ordered to stand firmly in order until he gave the signal for the advance. then he again sounded his horn, and the two parties advanced from the opposite ends of the square. as soon as they came within reach the romans showered down darts and javelins; but these either slipped altogether from the surface of the wet hides, or, penetrating them, went but a short distance into the faggots; and the british tribesmen raised shouts of exultation as the two solid bodies advanced unshaken to the steps of the temple. mounting these they advanced to the gates. in vain the romans dropped their javelins perpendicularly through the holes in the ceiling of the colonnade, in vain poured down streams of boiling oil, which had proved so fatal to the last attack. the javelins failed to penetrate, the oil streamed harmless off the hides. the men had, before advancing, received minute instructions. the ten men in the front line piled their faggots against the door, and then keeping close to the wall of the temple itself, slipped round to the side colonnade. the operation was repeated by the next line, and so on until but two lines remained. then the two men at each end of these lines mounted the pile of faggots and placed their burdens there, leaving but six standing. in their centre beric had his place, and now, kneeling down under their shelter, applied his torches to the pile. he waited till he saw the flames beginning to mount up. then he gave the word; the six men dropped their faggots to the ground, and with him ran swiftly to the side colonnade, where they were in shelter, as the romans, knowing they could not be attacked here, had made no openings in the ceiling above. the britons were frantic with delight when they saw columns of smoke followed by tongues of flames mounting from either end of the temple. higher and higher the flames mounted till they licked the ceiling above them. for half an hour the fire continued, and by the end of that time there was but a glowing mass of embers through which those without could soon see right into the temple. the doors and the obstacles behind them had been destroyed. as soon as he was aware by the shouts of his countrymen that the faggots were well in a blaze, beric had sounded his horn, and he and the tribesmen from both colonnades had run across the open unmolested by the darts of the romans, who were too panic stricken at the danger that threatened them to pay any heed to their movements. beric was received with loud acclamations by the iceni, and was escorted by a shouting multitude to the queen, who had taken her place at a point where she could watch the operations. she held out her hand to him. "you have succeeded, beric," she said; "and my thanks and those of all here--nay, of all britain--are due to you. in half an hour the temple will be open to attack." "hardly in that time, queen," he replied. "the faggots will doubtless have done their work by then, but it will be hours before the embers and stonework will be sufficiently cool to enable men to pass over them to the assault." "we can wait," the queen said. "a messenger, who left the camp of cerealis at daybreak, has just arrived, and at that hour nothing was known to the romans of our attack here. they will not now arrive until tomorrow." not until the afternoon was it considered that the entrances would be cool enough to pass through. then the sarci prepared for the attack, binding pieces of raw hide under their feet to protect them from the heated stonework. they were formed ten abreast. beric took his place before the front line of one of the columns, and with levelled spears they advanced at a run towards the doors. a shower of missiles saluted them from the roof. some fell, but the rest, pressing on in close order, dashed through the gateway and flung themselves upon the roman soldiers drawn up to oppose their passage. the resistance was feeble. the romans had entirely lost heart and could not for a moment sustain the weight of the charge. they were swept away from the entrance, and the britons poured in. standing in groups the romans defended themselves in desperation; but their efforts were vain, and in five minutes the last defender of the place was slain. as soon as the fight was over the whole of the iceni rushed tumultuously forward with exultant shouts and filled the temple; then a horn sounded and a lane was made, as boadicea, followed by her chiefs and chieftainesses, entered the temple. the queen's face was radiant with triumph, and she would have spoken but the shouting was so loud that those near her could not obtain silence. they understood, however, when advancing to the statues of the gods that stood behind the altars, she waved her spear. in an instant the tribesmen swarmed round the statues, ropes were attached to the massive figures, and jupiter, mars, and minerva fell to the ground with a crash, as did the statue of the emperor claudius. a mighty shout hailed its downfall. the gods of the britons, insulted and outraged, were avenged upon those of rome; the altars of mona had streamed with the blood of the druids, those of camalodunum were wet with the gore of roman legionaries. the statues were broken to pieces, the altars torn down, and then the chiefs ordered the tribesmen to fetch in faggots. thousands went to the forest, while others pulled down detached houses and sheds that had escaped the flames, and dragged the beams and woodwork to the temple. by nightfall an enormous pile of faggots was raised round each of the eight interior columns that in two lines supported the roof. torches were applied by boadicea, her two daughters and some of the principal druids, and in a short time the interior of the temple was a glowing furnace. the beams of the ceiling and roof soon ignited and the flames shot up high into the air. all day the trinobantes had been pouring in, and a perfect frenzy of delight reigned among the great crowd looking on at the destruction of the temple that had been raised to signify and celebrate the subjugation of britain. women with flowing hair performed wild dances of triumph; some rushed about as if possessed with madness, uttering prophecies of the total destruction of the romans; others foamed at the mouth and fell in convulsions, while the men were scarcely less excited over their success. messengers had already brought in news that at midday cerealis had learned that camalodunum had been attacked, and that the legion was to start on the following morning to relieve the town. the news had been taken to him by one of the trinobantes, who had received his instructions from aska. he was to say that the town had suddenly been attacked and that many had fallen; but the greater portion of the population had escaped to the temple, which had been vainly attacked by the iceni. the object of this news was to induce cerealis to move out from his fortified camp. the chiefs felt the difficulty of assaulting such a position, and though they had dreaded the arrival of cerealis before the temple was taken, they were anxious that he should set out as soon as they saw that beric's plan of attack had succeeded, and that the temple was now open to their assault. at midnight the roof of the temple fell in, and nothing remained but the bare walls and the columns surrounding them. the chiefs ordered their followers to make their way through the still burning town and to gather by tribes outside the defensive works, and there lie down until morning, when they would march to meet the legion of cerealis. at daybreak they were again afoot and on the march southward, swollen by the accession of the trinobantes and by the arrival during the last two days of tribes who had been too late to join the rest at cardun. the british force now numbered at least fifty thousand. "it is a great army, beric," boduoc said exultingly as they moved forward. "it is a great host," beric replied. "i would that it were an army. had they all even as much training as our men i should feel confident in the future." "but surely you are confident now, beric; we have begun well." "we have scarcely begun at all," beric said. "what have we done? destroyed a sleeping town and captured by means of fire a temple defended by four hundred men. we shall win today, that i do not doubt. the men are wrought up by their success, and the romans are little prepared to meet such a force--i doubt not that we shall beat them, but to crush a legion is not to defeat rome. i hope, boduoc, but i do not feel confident. look back at the sarci and then look round at this disordered host. well, the romans in discipline and order exceed the sarci as much as we exceed the rest of the iceni. they will be led by generals trained in war; we are led by chiefs whose only idea of war is to place themselves at the head of their tribe and rush against the enemy. whether courage and great numbers can compensate for want of discipline remains to be seen. the history of rome tells me that it has never done so yet." after five hours' marching some fleet footed scouts sent on ahead brought in the news that the romans were approaching. a halt was called, and the chiefs assembled round the queen's chariot in council. beric was summoned by a messenger from the queen. "you must always attend our councils," she said when he came up. "you have proved that, young as you are, you possess a knowledge of war that more than compensates for your lack of years. you have the right, after capturing the temple for us, to take for the sarci the post of honour in today's battle. choose it for yourself. you know the romans; where do you think we had better fight them?" "i think we could not do better than await them here," he said. "we stand on rising ground, and one of the trinobantes to whom i have just spoken says that there is a swamp away on the left of our front, so that the roman horsemen cannot advance in that direction. i should attack them in face and on their left flank, closing in thickly so as to prevent their horsemen from breaking out on to the plain at our right and then falling upon us in our rear. since you are good enough to say that i may choose my post for the sarci, i will hold them where they stand; then, should the others fail to break the roman front, we will move down upon them and check their advance while the rest attack their flanks." this answer pleased some of the chiefs, who felt jealous of the honour the small tribe had gained on the previous day. they were afraid that beric would have chosen to head the attack. "does that plan please you?" boadicea asked. "it is as well as another," one of the chiefs said. "let the sarci look on this time while we destroy the enemy. i should have thought beric would have chosen for his tribe the post of honour in the attack." "the romans always keep their best troops in reserve," beric said quietly; "in a hard fight it is the reserve that decides the fate of the battle." "then let it be so," boadicea said. "is the swamp that you speak of deep?" "it is not too deep for our men to cross," one of the chiefs of the trinobantes said; "but assuredly a horseman could not pass through it." "very well, then, let the trinobantes attack by falling upon the romans on our right; the iceni will attack them in front; and the sarci will remain where they stand until beric sees need for them to advance." in a few minutes the roman legion was seen advancing, with a portion of the cavalry in front and the rest in the rear. the queen, whose chariot was placed in front of the line, raised her spear. a tremendous shout was raised by the britons, and with wild cries the tribes poured down to the attack, while the women, clustered on the slopes they had left, added their shrill cries of encouragement to the din. the romans, who, believing that the britons were still engaged in the attack on camalodunum, had no expectation of meeting them on the march, halted and stood uncertain as the masses of britons poured down to the attack. then their trumpets sounded and they again advanced, the cavalry in the rear moving forward to join those in the advance, but before they accomplished this the britons were upon them. showers of darts were poured in, and the horsemen, unable to stand the onslaught, rode into the spaces between the companies of the infantry, who, moving outwards and forming a solid column on either flank, protected them from the assaults of their foes. the britons, after pouring in showers of javelins, flung themselves, sword in hand, upon the roman infantry; but these with levelled spears showed so solid a front that they were unable to break through, while from behind the spearmen, the light armed roman troops poured volleys of missiles among them. boadicea called beric to her side. "it is as you said, beric; the order in which the romans fight is wonderful. see how steadily they hold together, it is like a wild boar attacked by dogs; but they will be overwhelmed, see how the darts fly and how bravely the iceni are fighting." the tribesmen, indeed, were attacking with desperate bravery. seizing the heads of the spears they attempted to wrest them from their holders, or to thrust them aside and push forward within striking distance. sometimes they partially succeeded, and though the first might fall others rushing in behind reached the romans and pressed them backwards, but reserves were brought up and the line restored. then slowly but steadily the romans moved forward, and although partial success had at some points attended those who attacked them in flank, the front of the column with serried spears held its way on in spite of the efforts of the britons to arrest the movement. presently the supply of javelins of their assailants began to fail, and the assaults upon the head of the column to grow more feeble, while the shouts of the roman soldiers rose above the cries of their assailants. "now it is time for us to move down," beric said; "if we can arrest the advance their flanks will be broken in before long. now, men," he shouted as he returned to his place at the head of the sarci, "now is the time to show that you can meet the romans in their own fashion. move slowly down to the attack, let no man hasten his pace, but let each keep his place in the ranks. four companies will attack the romans in front, the others in column five deep will march down till they face the roman flank, then they will march at it, spears down, and break it in." beric sounded his bugle, and ten deep the four hundred men moved steadily down to the attack of the romans. the five front ranks marched with levelled spears, those behind prepared to hurl their darts over their heads. when within fifty yards of the enemy the sarci raised their battle cry, and the iceni engaged with the romans in front, seeing the hedge of spears advancing behind them, hurriedly ran off at both flanks and the sarci advanced to the attack. the romans halted involuntarily, astonished at the spectacle. never before had they encountered barbarians advancing in formation similar to their own, and the sight of the tall figures advancing almost naked to the assault--for the britons always threw off their garments before fighting--filled them with something like consternation. at the shouts of their officers, however, they again got into motion and met the britons firmly. the additional length beric had given to the spears of the sarci now proved of vital advantage, and bearing steadily onward they brought the romans to a standstill, while the javelins from the british rear ranks fell thick and fast among them. gradually the romans were pressed backwards, quickly as the gaps were filled up by those behind, until the charging shout of the sarci on their flank was heard. beric blew his horn, and his men with an answering shout pressed forward faster, their cries of victory rising as the romans gave way. still the latter fought stubbornly, until triumphant yells and confused shouts told them that the flank had given way under the attack of the britons. then beric's horn sounded again, the slow advance was converted into a charge, the ranks behind closed up, and before the weight and impetus of the rush the roman line was broken. then the impetuosity of the sarci could no longer be restrained, in vain beric blew his horn. flinging down their spears and drawing their swords the britons flung themselves on the broken mass, the other tribesmen pouring in tumultuously behind them. for a few minutes a desperate conflict raged, each man fighting for himself, but numbers prevailed, the roman shouts became feebler, the war cries of the britons louder and more triumphant. in ten minutes the fight was over, more than two thousand roman soldiers lay dead, while cerealis and the cavalry, bursting their way through their assailants, alone escaped, galloping off at full speed towards the refuge of their fortified camp. the exultation of the britons knew no bounds. they had for the first time since the romans set foot on their shore beaten them in a fair fight in the open. there was a rush to collect the arms, shields, and helmets of the fallen romans, and two of the sarci presently brought the standards of the legion to beric. "follow me with them," he said, and, extricating himself from the throng, ascended the slope to where boadicea, surrounded with women who were dancing and joining in a triumphant chant of victory, was still standing in her chariot. "here are the roman standards, the emblems of victory," beric said as he approached the chariot. boadicea sprang down, and advancing to him, embraced him warmly. "the victory is yours, beric," she said. "keep these two eagles, and fix them in your hall, so that your children's children may point to them with pride and say, 'it was beric, chief of the sarci, who first overthrew the romans in the field.' but there is no time to be lost;" and she turned to her charioteer, who carried a horn. "sound the summons for the chiefs to assemble." there were several missing, for the britons had suffered heavily in their first attack. "chiefs," she said, "let us not lose an instant, but press on after the romans. let us strike before they recover from their confusion and surprise. catus decianus may be in their camp, and while i seek no other spoil, him i must have to wreak my vengeance on. see that a party remain to look to the wounded, and that such as need it are taken to their homes in wagons." the horns were at once sounded, the tribesmen flocked back to the positions from which they had charged, and resumed their garments. then the march was continued. they presented a strange appearance now. almost every man had taken possession of some portion or other of the romans' arms. some had helmets, others shields, others breastplates, swords, or spears. the helmets, however, were speedily taken off and slung behind them, the heads of the iceni being vastly larger than those of the romans, the tallest of whom they overtopped by fully six inches. the arms of the officer who commanded under cerealis were offered to beric, but he refused them. "i fight to drive the romans from our land," he said, "and not for spoil. nothing of theirs will i touch, but will return to the forest when all is over just as i left it." by evening they approached the roman camp. a portion of the legion had been left there when cerealis set out, and in the light of the setting sun the helmets and spearheads could be seen above the massive palisades that rose on the top of the outworks. the britons halted half a mile away, fires were lighted, and the men sat down to feast upon the meat that had been brought in wagons from camalodunum. then a council was held. as a rule, the british councils were attended by all able bodied men. the power of the chiefs, except in actual war, was very small, for the britons, like their gaulish ancestors, considered every man to be equal, and each had a voice in the management of affairs. thus every chief had, before taking up arms, held a council of his tribesmen, and it was only after they had given their vote for war that he possessed any distinct power and control. when the council began, one of the chiefs of the trinobantes was asked first to give a minute description of the roman camp. the works were formidable. surrounding it was a broad and deep fosse, into which a stream was turned. beyond this there was a double vallum or wall of earth so steep as to be climbed with great difficulty. in the hollow between the two walls sharp stakes were set thickly together. the second wall was higher than the first, and completely commanded it. along its top ran a solid palisade of massive beams, behind which the earth was banked up to within some three and a half feet from the top, affording a stand for the archers, slingers, and spearmen. the council was animated, but the great majority of chiefs were in favour of leaving this formidable position untouched, and falling upon places that offered a chance of an easier capture. the british in their tribal wars fought largely for the sake of plunder. in their first burst of fury at camalodunum they had, contrary to their custom, sought only to destroy; but their thirst for blood was now appeased, they longed for the rich spoils of the roman cities, both as trophies of victory and to adorn their women. the chiefs represented that already many of their bravest tribesmen had fallen, and it would be folly to risk a heavy loss in the attack upon such a position. what matter, they argued, if two or three hundred romans were left there for the present? they could do no harm, and could be either captured by force or obliged to surrender by hunger after suetonius and the roman army had been destroyed. not a day should be lost, they contended, in marching upon verulamium, after which london could be sacked, for, although far inferior in size and importance to camalodunum and verulamium, it was a rising town, inhabited by large numbers of merchants and traders, who imported goods from gaul and distributed them over the country. beric's opinion was in favour of an instant assault, and in this he was supported by aska and two or three of the older chiefs; but the majority were the other way, and the policy of leaving altogether the fortified posts garrisoned by the romans to be dealt with after the roman army had been met and destroyed was decided upon. one of the arguments employed was that while the capture of these places would be attended with considerable loss, it would add little to the effect that the news of the destruction of the chief roman towns would have upon the tribes throughout the whole country, and would take so long that suetonius might return in time to succour the most important places before the work was done. aska walked away from the council with beric. "they have decided wrongly," he said. "i do not think it much matters," beric replied. "everything hangs at present upon the result of our battle with suetonius. if we win, all the detached forts must surrender; if we lose, what matters it?" "you think we shall lose, beric?" "i do not say that," beric said; "but see how it was today. the iceni made no more impression upon the roman column than if they had been attacking a wall. they hindered themselves by their very numbers, and by the time we meet the romans our numbers will be multiplied by five, perhaps by ten. but shall we be any stronger thereby? will not rather the confusion be greater? today the roman horse fled; but had they charged among us, small as was their number, what confusion would they have made in our ranks! a single briton is a match for a single roman, and more. ten romans fighting in order might repel the assault of a hundred, and as the numbers multiply so does the advantage of discipline increase. i hope for victory, aska, but i cannot say that i feel confident of it." marching next morning against verulamium, they arrived there in the afternoon and at once attacked it. the resistance was feeble, and bursting through in several places the iceni and trinobantes spread over the town, slaughtering all they found. not only the romans, but the gauls settled in the city, and such britons as had adopted roman customs were put to the sword. the city was then sacked and set on fire. it was now decided that instead of turning towards london they should march west in order that they might be joined by other tribes on their way and meet suetonius returning from wales. there was no haste in their movements. they advanced by easy stages, their numbers swelling every day, tribe after tribe joining them, as the news spread of the capture and destruction of the two chief roman towns, and the defeat and annihilation of one of the legions. so they marched until, a fortnight after the capture of verulamium, the news arrived that suetonius, marching with all speed towards the east, had already passed them, gathering up on his way the garrisons of all the fortified posts. then the great host turned and marched east again. beric regretted deeply the course that had been taken. had the garrisons all been attacked and destroyed separately, the army they would have to encounter would have been a little more than half the strength of that which suetonius would be able to put into the field when he collected all the garrisons. but the britons troubled themselves in no way. they regarded victory as certain, and expressed exultation that they should crush all the romans at one blow in the open field, instead of being forced to undertake a number of separate sieges. still marching easily, they came down upon the valley of the thames and followed it until they arrived at london. they had expected that suetonius would give battle before they arrived there. he had indeed passed through the town a few days previously, but had disregarded the prayers of the inhabitants to remain for their protection. he allowed all males who chose to do so to enlist in the ranks and permitted others to accompany the army, but he wished before fighting to be joined by cerealis and the survivors of his legion, and by the garrisons of other fortified posts. the britons therefore fell upon london, slaughtered all the inhabitants, and sacked and burned the town. it was calculated that here and in the two roman cities no less than 80,000 persons had been slain. this accomplished, the great host again set out in search of suetonius. they were accompanied now by a vast train of wagons and chariots carrying the women and spoil. beric was not present at the sack of london. as they approached the town and it became known that suetonius had marched away, and that there would be no resistance, he struck off north. since they had left verulamium the tribesmen had given up marching in military order. they were very proud of the credit they had gained in the battle with the romans, but said that they did not see any use in marching tediously abreast when there was no enemy near. beric having no power whatever to compel them, told them that of course they could do as they liked, but that they would speedily forget all they had learned. but the impatience of restraint of any kind, or of doing anything unless perfectly disposed to do it, which was a british characteristic, was too strong, and many were influenced by the scoffs of the newcomers, who, not having seen them in the day of battle, asked them scornfully if the sarci were slaves that they should obey orders like roman soldiers. boduoc, although he had objected to the drill at first, and had scoffed at the idea of men fighting any better because they all kept an even distance from each other, and marched with the same foot forward, had now become an enthusiast in its favour and raged at this falling away. but beric said, "it is no use being angry, boduoc. i was surprised that they consented at first, and i am not surprised that they have grown tired of it. it is the fault of our people to be fickle and inconstant, soon wearying of anything they undertake; but i do not think that it matters much now. we alone were able to decide the fight when there were but two thousand roman spearmen; but when we meet suetonius, he will have ten thousand soldiers under him, and our multitude is so great that the sarci would be lost in the crowd. if the britons cannot beat them without us, we should not suffice to change the fortunes of the day." it was partly to escape the sight of the sack of london, partly because he was anxious to know how berenice and cneius nepo were faring that beric left the army, and drove north in a chariot. after two days' journey he arrived at the cottage of boduoc's mother. the door stood open as was the universal custom in britain, for nowhere was hospitality so lavishly practised, and it was thought that a closed door might deter a passerby from entering. his footsteps had been heard, for two dogs had growled angrily at his approach. the old woman was sitting at the fire, and at first he saw no one else in the hut. "good will to all here!" he said. "it is the young chief!" the old woman exclaimed, and at once two figures rose from a pile of straw in a dark corner of the room. "beric?" "yes, it is i," he said. "how fares it with you, berenice? you are well, cneius, i hope? you have run no risks, i trust, since you have been here?" "we are well, beric," the girl said; "but oh the time has seemed so long! it is not yet a month since you sent us here, but it seems a year. she has been very kind to us, and done all that she could, and the girls, her daughters, have gone with me sometimes for rambles in the wood; but they cannot speak our language. not another person has been here since we came." "what is the news, beric?" cneius asked. "no word has reached us. the old woman and her daughters have learned something, for the eldest girl goes away sometimes for hours, and i can see that she tells her mother news when she returns." beric briefly told them what had happened, at which berenice exclaimed passionately that the britons were a wicked people. "then there will be a great battle when you meet suetonius, beric," cneius said. "how think you will it go?" "it is hard to say," beric replied; "we are more than one hundred and fifty thousand men against ten thousand, but the ten thousand are soldiers, while the hundred and fifty thousand are a mob. brave and devoted, and fearless of death i admit, but still a mob. i cannot say how it will go." "how long shall we stay here, beric?" berenice asked. "when will you take me to my father?" "if we are beaten, berenice, you will rejoin him speedily; if we win--" "he will not be alive," she broke in. beric did not contradict her, but went on, "i will see that you are placed on board a ship and sent to gaul; it is for this i come here today. cneius, in two or three days we shall meet suetonius; if we win, i will return to you myself, or if i am killed, boduoc or his brother, both of whom i shall charge with the mission, will come in my place and will escort you to the coast and see that you are placed on board ship. if we lose, it is likely that none of us will return. i shall give the old woman instructions that in that case her daughter is to guide you through the forest and take you on until you meet some roman soldiers, or are within sight of their camp, then you will only have to advance and declare yourself." then he turned and spoke for some time to boduoc's mother in her own language, thanking her for the shelter that she had given the fugitives, and giving instructions as to the future. he took a hasty meal, and started at once on his return journey in order to rejoin the sarci as the army advanced from london. berenice wept bitterly when he said goodbye, and cneius himself was much affected. "i view you almost as a son," he said; "and it is terrible to know that if you win in the battle, my patron caius and my countrymen will be destroyed, while if they win, you may fall." "it is the fortune of war, cneius. you know that we britons look forward to death with joy; that, unlike you, we mourn at a birth and feast at a burial, knowing that after death we go to the happy island where there is no more trouble or sorrow, but where all is peace and happiness and content; so do not grieve for me. you will know that if i fall i shall be happy, and shall be free from all the troubles that await this unfortunate land." chapter vii: defeat of the britons london was but a heap of ashes when beric arrived there. it had been a trading place rather than a town. here were no roman houses or temples with their massive stone work; it consisted only of a large collection of wooden structures, inhabited by merchants and traders. it lay upon a knoll rising above the low swampy ground covered by the sea at high water, for not till long afterwards did the romans erect the banks that dammed back the waters and confined them within their regular channel. the opposite shore was similarly covered with water at high tide, and forests extended as far as the eye could reach. london, in fact, occupied what was at high water a peninsula, connected with the mainland only by a shoulder extending back to the hills beyond it, and separated by a deep channel on the west from a similar promontory. it was a position that, properly fortified by strong walls across the isthmus, could have been held against a host, but the romans had not as yet taken it in hand; later, however, they recognized the importance of the position, and made it one of the chief seats of their power. even in the three days that he had been absent beric found that the host had considerably increased. the tribes of sussex and kent, as they heard of the approach of the army, had flocked in to join it, and to share in the plunder of london. another day was spent in feasting and rejoicing, and then the army moved northward. it consisted now of well nigh two hundred thousand fighting men, and a vast crowd of women, with a huge train of wagons. two days later, news reached them of the spot where suetonius had taken up his position and was awaiting their attack, and the army at once pressed forward in that direction. at nightfall they bivouacked two miles away from it, and beric, taking boduoc with him, went forward to examine it. it was at a point where a valley opened into the plain; the sides of the valley were steep and thickly wooded, and it was only in front that an attack could well be delivered. "what think you of it, beric?" boduoc asked. "suetonius relies upon our folly," beric said; "he is sure that we shall advance upon him as a tumultous mob, and as but a small portion can act at once our numbers will count but little. the position would be a bad one had we any skill or forethought. were i commander tomorrow i should, before advancing to the attack, send a great number round on either side to make their way through the woods, and so to attack on both flanks, and to pour down the valley in their rear, at the same time that the main body attacked in the front. then the position would be a fatal one; attacked in front and rear and overwhelmed by darts from the woods on the flanks, their position would be well nigh desperate, and not a man should escape." "but we must overwhelm them," boduoc said. "what can ten thousand men do against a host like ours?" "it may be so, boduoc. yet i feel by no means sure of it. at any rate we must prepare for defeat as well as victory. if we are beaten the cause of britain will be lost. as we advance without order we shall fly without order, and the tribes will disperse to their homes even more quickly than they have gathered. of one thing you may be sure, the roman vengeance will be terrible. we have brought disgrace and defeat upon them. we have destroyed their chief cities. we have massacred tens of thousands. no mercy will be shown us, and chiefly will their vengeance fall upon the iceni. when we return to the camp, go among the men and ask them whether they mean to fight tomorrow as they fought cerealis, or whether they will fight in the fashion of the rest. i fear that, wild as all are with enthusiasm and the assurance of victory, they will not consent to be kept in reserve, but will be eager to be in the front of the attack. i will go with you, and will do my best to persuade them; but if they insist on fighting in their own way, then we will go to them one by one, and will form if we can a body, if only a hundred strong, to keep, and if needs be, retreat together. in speed we can outrun the heavy armed roman soldiers with ease, but their cavalry will scour the plain. keeping together, however, we can repel these with our lances, and make good our escape. we will first make for home, load ourselves with grain, and driving cattle before us, and taking our women and children, make for the swamps that lie to the northwest of our limits. there we can defend ourselves against the romans for any length of time." "you speak as if defeat were certain," boduoc said reproachfully. "not at all, boduoc; a prudent man prepares for either fortune, it is only the fool that looks upon one side only. i hope for victory, but i prepare for defeat; those who like to return to their homes and remain there to be slaughtered by the romans, can do so. i intend to fight to the last." upon rejoining the sarci, beric called them together, and asked them whether they wished on the following day to rush into the battle, or to remain in solid order in reserve. the reply was, that they wished for their share of glory, and that did they hold aloof until the battle was done and the enemy annihilated they would be pointed out as men who had feared to take their share in the combat. when the meeting had dispersed beric and boduoc went among them; they said nothing about the advantage that holding together would be in case of defeat, but pointed out the honour they had gained by deciding the issue of the last battle, and begged them to remain in a solid body, so that possibly they might again decide the battle. as to disgrace, they had already shown how well they could fight, and that none could say that fear had influenced their decision. altogether two hundred agreed to retain their ranks, and with this beric was satisfied. he then went off to find his mother, who was as usual with the queen. she would not hear of any possibility of defeat. "what!" she said. "are britons so poor and unmanly a race, that even when twenty to one they cannot conquer a foe? i would not believe it of them." "i don't expect it, mother, but it is best to be prepared for whatever may happen." he then told her of the arrangements he had made. "you may be right, beric, in preparing for the worst, but i will take no part in it. the queen has sworn she will not survive defeat, nor shall i. i will not live to see my country bound in roman chains. a free woman i have lived, and a free woman i will die, and shall gladly quit this troubled life for the shores of the happy island." beric was silent for a minute. "i do not seek to alter your determination, mother, but as for myself, so long as i can lift a sword i shall continue to struggle against the romans. we shall not meet tomorrow; when the battle once begins all will be confusion, and there would be no finding each other in this vast crowd. if victory is ours, we shall meet afterwards; if defeat, i shall make for cardun, where, if you change your mind, i shall hope to meet you, and then shall march with those who will for the swamps of ely, where doubtless large numbers of fugitives will gather, for unless the romans drive their causeways into its very heart they can scarce penetrate in any other way." so sure were the britons of victory that no council was held that night. there were the enemy, they had only to rush upon and destroy them. returning to his men, beric met aska. "i have just been over to your camp to see you, beric. i have talked with boduoc, who told me frankly that you did not share the general assurance of an easy victory. nor do i, after what i saw the other day--how we dashed vainly against the roman line. he tells me that your men, save a small party, have determined to fight tomorrow in the front line with the rest, and i lament over it." "it would make no difference in the result," beric said; "in so great a mass as this we should be lost, and even if we could make our way to the front, and fall upon the romans in a solid body, our numbers are too small to decide the issue; but at least we might, had the day gone against us, have drawn off in good order." "i will take my station with you," aska said; "i have, as all the iceni know, been a great fighter in my time; but i will leave it to the younger men tomorrow to win this battle. my authority may aid yours, and methinks that if we win tomorrow, none can say that you were wrong to stand aloof from the first charge, if aska stood beside you." thanking the chief warmly for the promise, beric returned to the sarci. feasting was kept up all night, and at daybreak the britons were on foot, and forming in their tribes advanced within half a mile of the roman position. then they halted, and boadicea with her daughters and the chiefs moved along their front exhorting them to great deeds, recalling to them the oppression and tyranny of the romans, and the indignity that they had inflicted upon her and her daughters; and her addresses were answered by loud shouts from the tribesmen. in the meantime the wagons had moved out and drew up in a vast semicircle behind the troops, so as to enable the women who crowded them to get a view of the victory. so great was the following that the wagons were ranged four or five deep. beric had drawn up the men who had agreed to fight in order, in a solid mass in front of the tribe. he was nearly on the extreme left of the british position. aska had taken his place by his side. his mother, as in her chariot she passed along behind boadicea, waved her hand to him, and then pointed towards the romans. "look, aska," he said presently; "do you see that deep line of wagons forming all round us? in case of disaster they will block up the retreat. a madness has seized our people. one would think that this was a strife of gladiators at rome rather than a battle between two nations. there will be no retreat that way for us if disaster comes. we must make off between the horn of the crescent and the romans. it is there only we can draw off in a body." "that is so, beric," the chief said; "but see! the queen has reached the end of the lines, and waves her spear as a signal." a thundering shout arose, mingled with the shrill cries of encouragement from the women, and then like a torrent the britons rushed to the attack in confused masses, each tribe striving to be first to attack the romans. the sarci from behind the company joined in the rush, and there was confusion in the ranks, many of the men being carried away by the enthusiasm; but the shouts and exhortations of beric, aska, and boduoc steadied them again, and in regular order they marched after the host. in five minutes the uproar of battle swelled high in front. beric marched up the valley until he arrived at the rear of the great mass of men who were swarming in front of the roman line, each man striving to get to the front to hurl his dart and join in the struggle. the romans had drawn up twelve deep across the valley, the heavy armed spearmen in front, the lighter troops behind, the latter replying with their missiles to the storm of darts that the britons poured upon them. with desperate efforts the assailants strove to break through the hedge of spears; their bravest flung themselves upon the roman weapons and died there, striving in vain to break the line. for hours the fight continued, but the roman wall remained unbroken and immovable. fresh combatants had taken the place of those in front until all had exhausted their store of javelins. in vain the chiefs attempted to induce their followers to gather thickly together and to make a rush; the din was too great for their voices to be heard, and the tribesmen were half mad with fury at the failure of their own efforts to break the roman line. beric strove many times to bring up his company in a mass through the crowd to the front. the pressure was too great, none would give way where all sought to get near their foes, and rather than break them up he remained in the rear in spite of the eager cries of the men to be allowed to break up and push their way singly forward. "what can you do alone," he shouted to them, "more than the others are doing? together and in order we might succeed, broken we should be useless. if this huge army cannot break their line, what could two hundred men do?" at last, as the storm of javelins began to dwindle, a mighty shout rose from the romans, and shoulder to shoulder with levelled spears they advanced, while the flanks giving way, the cavalry burst out on both sides and fell upon the britons. for those in front, pressed by the mass behind them, there was no falling back, they fell as they stood under the roman spears. stubbornly for a time the tribesmen fought with sword and target; but as the line pressed forward, and the horsemen cut their way through the struggling mass, a panic began to seize them. the tribes longest conquered by the romans first gave way, and the movement rapidly spread. many for some time desperately opposed the advance of the romans, whose triumphant shouts rose loudly; but gradually these melted away, and the vast crowd of warriors became a mob of fugitives, the romans pressing hotly with cries of victory and vengeance upon their rear. beric's little band was swept away like foam before the wave of fugitives. for a time it attempted to stem the current; but when beric saw that this was in vain he shouted to his tribesmen to keep in a close body and to press towards the left, which was comparatively free. fortunately the roman horse had plunged in more towards the centre, and the ground was open for their retreat. thousands of flying men were making towards the rear, but with a great effort they succeeded in crossing the tide of fugitives, and in passing through outside the semicircle of wagons. here they halted for a moment while beric, climbing on the end wagon, surveyed the scene. there was no longer any resistance among the britons. the great semicircle within the line of wagons was crowded by a throng of fugitives behind whom, at a run now, the roman legions were advancing, maintaining their order even at that rapid pace. outside the sweep of wagons women with cries of terror were flying in all directions, and the horses, alarmed by the din, were plunging and struggling, while their drivers vainly endeavoured to extricate them from the close line of vehicles. "all is lost for the present," he said to aska, "let us make for the north; it is useless to delay, men; to try to fight would be to throw away our lives uselessly, we shall do more good by preserving them to fight upon another day. keep closely together, we shall have the roman cavalry upon us before long, and only by holding to our ranks can we hope to repel them." many of the women from the nearest wagons rushed in among the men, and, placing them in their centre, the band went off at a steady trot, which they could maintain for hours. the din behind was terrible, the shouts of the romans mingled with the cries of the britons and the loud shrieks of women. the plain was already thick with fugitives, consisting either of women from the outside wagons or men who had made their way through the mass of struggling animals. here and there chariots were dashing across the plain at full gallop. looking back from a rise of the ground a mile from the battlefield, they saw a few parties of the roman horse scouring the plain; but the main body were scattered round the confused mass by the wagons. "there will be but few escape," aska said, throwing up his arms in despair; "the wagons have proved a death trap; had it not been for them the army would have scattered all over the country, and though the roman horse might have cut down many, the greater number would have gained the woods and escaped; but the wagons held them just as a thin line of men will hold the wolves till the hunters arrive and hem them in." the carts crowded with women, the plunging horses in lines three or four deep had indeed checked the first fugitives; then came the others crowding in upon them, and then before a gap wide enough to let them through could be forced, the roman horse were round and upon them. the pause that beric made had been momentary, and the band kept on at their rapid pace until the woods were reached, and they were safe from pursuit; then, as they halted, they gave way to their sorrow and anguish. some threw themselves down and lay motionless; others walked up and down with wild gestures; some broke into imprecations against the gods who had deserted them. some called despairingly the names of wives and daughters who had been among the spectators in that fatal line of wagons. the women sat in a group weeping; none of them belonged to the iceni, and their kinsfolk and friends had, as they believed, all perished in the fight. "think you that the queen has fallen?" aska asked beric. "she may have made her way out," beric said; "we saw chariots driving across the plain. she would be carried back by the first fugitives, and it may be that they managed to clear a way through the wagons for her and those with her. if she is alive, doubtless my mother is by her side." "if the queen has escaped," aska said, "it will be but to die by her own hand instead of by that of the romans. i am sure that she will not survive this day. there is nothing else left for her, her tribe is destroyed, her country lost, herself insulted and humiliated. boadicea would never demand her life from the romans." "my mother will certainly die with her," beric said, "and i should say that all her party will willingly share her fate. for the chiefs and leaders there will be no mercy, and for a time doubtless all will be slaughtered who fall into the roman hands; but after a time the sword will be stayed, for the land will be useless to them without men to cultivate it, and when the roman hands are tired of slaying, policy will prevail. it were best to speak to the men, aska, for us to be moving on; will you address them?" the old chief moved towards the men, and raising his hand, called them to him. at first but few obeyed the summons, but as he proceeded they roused themselves and gathered round him, for his reputation in the tribe was great, and the assured tone in which he spoke revived their spirits. "men of the sarci," he said, "this is no time for wailing or lamentation; the gods of britain have deserted us, but of this terrible day's defeat none of the disgrace rests upon you. the honour of the victories we won was yours, and though but a small subtribe, the name of the sarci rang through britain as that of the bravest in the land. had all of your tribe obeyed their young chief and fought together today as they have fought before, it may be that the defeat would have been averted; but you stood firmly by him when the others fell away, and you stand here without the loss of a man, safe in the forest and ready to meet the roman again. you are fortunate in having such a leader. i may tell you that had his counsel prevailed you would not now be mourning a defeat. i, an old chief with long years of experience, believed what he said, young though he is, and saw that to fight in a confused multitude on such a field was to court almost certain defeat. "thus then i placed myself by his side, relying upon his skill in arms and your bravery, and throwing my fortune in with yours. i was not mistaken. had you not firmly kept together and followed his instructions you too would have been inclosed in that vast throng of fugitives hemmed in among the wagons, slaughtered by the roman footmen in their rear and cut down by their horse if they broke through the line of wagons. you may ask what is there to live for; you may say that the cause of britain is lost, that your tribe is well nigh destroyed, that many of you have lost your wives and families as well. all this is true, but yet, men, all is not lost. great as may have been the slaughter, large numbers must have escaped, and many of you have still wives and families at home. before aught else is thought of these must be taken to a place of safety until the first outburst of roman vengeance has passed. "had beric been the sole leader of the britons from the first there would be no need of fearing their vengeance, for in that case none of their women and children would have been slain, and they would be now in our hands as hostages; but that is past. i say it only to show you how wise and far seeing as well as how brave a leader in battle is this young chief of yours. while all others were dreaming only of an easy victory over the romans he and i have been preparing for what had best be done in case of defeat. to return to your homes would be but to court death, and if we are to die at the hands of the romans it is best that we should die fighting them to the end. we have therefore arranged that we will seek a refuge in the fen country that forms the western boundary of the land of the iceni; there we can find strongholds into which the romans can never force their way; thence we can sally out, and in turn take vengeance. there will rally round you hundreds of other brave men till we grow to a force that may again make head against the romans. there at least we shall live as free men and die as free men." a shout of approval broke from the men. "you need not starve," aska went on. "the rivers abound with fish and the swamps with waterfowl. there are islands among the swamps where the land is dry, and we can construct huts. three days since, when he foresaw that it might be that a refuge would be needed, beric despatched a messenger home with orders that a herd of three hundred cattle and another of as many swine should be driven to the spot near the swamps for which we propose to make, and they will there be found awaiting you." there was again a chorus of approval, and one of the men stepping forward said, "beric is young, but he is a great chief. we will follow him wherever he will take us, and will swear to be faithful and obedient to him." every man raised his right arm towards the sky, and with a loud shout swore to be faithful to beric. "you are right," aska said. "it is of no use to obey a chief only when ranged in battle; it is that which has ruined our country. there is nothing slavish in recognizing that one man must rule, and in obeying when obedience is necessary for the sake of all. as one body led by one mind you may do much; as two hundred men swayed by two hundred minds you will do nothing. i shall be with beric, and my experience may be of aid to him. and if i, a chief of high standing among the iceni, am well content to recognize in him the leader of our party, you may well do the same. now, beric, step forward and say what is next to be done." "i thank you," beric said when the shout of acclamation that greeted him when he stepped forward had subsided, "for the oath you have sworn to be faithful to me. i pretend not to more wisdom than others, and feel that in the presence of one so full of years and experience as aska it is a presumption for one of my age to give an opinion; but in one respect i know that i am more fitted than others to lead you. i have studied the records of the romans, of their wars with the gauls and other peoples, and i know that their greatest trouble was not in defeating armies in the field but of overcoming the resistance of those who took refuge in fastnesses and harassed them continually by sorties and attacks. i know where the romans are strong and where they are weak; and it is by the aid of such knowledge that i hope that we may long retain our freedom, and may even in time become so formidable that we may be able to win terms not only for ourselves but for our countrymen. "the first step is to gather at our place of refuge those belonging to us. therefore do you choose among yourselves twenty swift runners and send them to our villages, bidding the wives and families of all here to leave their homes at once, taking only such gear as they can carry lightly, and to make with all speed for soto, a village in the district of the baci, and but a mile or two from the edge of the great swamp country. it is there that the herds have been driven, and there they will find a party ready to escort them. let all the other women and children be advised to quit their homes also, and to travel north together with the old men and boys. bid the latter drive the herds before them. it may be months before they can return to their homes. it were best that they should pass altogether beyond the district of our people, for it is upon the iceni that the vengeance of the romans will chiefly fall. by presents of cattle they can purchase an asylum among the brigantes, and had best remain there till they hear that roman vengeance is satisfied. "let them as they journey north advise all the people in our villages to follow their example. let those who will not do this take shelter in the hearts of the forests. to our own people my orders are distinct: no herd, either of cattle or swine, is to be left behind. let the romans find a desert where they can gather no food; let the houses be burnt, together with all crops that have been gathered. warn all that there must be no delay. let the boys and old men start within five minutes from the time that you deliver my message, to gather the herds and drive them north. let the women call their children round them, take up their babes, make a bundle of their garments, and pile upon a wagon cooking pots and such things as are most needed, and then set fire to their houses and stacks and granaries and go. warn them that even the delay of an hour may be fatal, for that the roman cavalry will be spreading like a river in flood over the country. beg them to leave the beaten tracks and journey through the woods, both those who go north and those who will meet us at soto. quick! choose the messengers; and such of you as choose had best hand to the one who is bound for his village a ring or a bracelet, or some token that your wives will recognize, so that they may know that the order comes from you." twenty young men were at once chosen, and boduoc and two of the older men divided the district of the sarci among them, allotting to each the hamlets they should visit. as soon as this was decided the rest of the band gave the messengers their tokens to their families, and then the runners started at a trot which they could maintain for many hours. the rest of the band then struck off in the direction in which they were bound. with only an occasional half hour for food and a few hours at night for sleep they pressed northward. fast as they went the news of the disaster had preceded them, carried by fugitives from the battle. at each hamlet through which they passed, aska repeated the advice that had been sent to the iceni. "abandon your homes, drive the swine and the cattle before you, take to the forests, journey far north, and seek refuge among the brigantes. a rallying place for fighting men will be found at soto, on the edge of the great swamps; let all who can bear arms and love freedom better than servitude or death gather there." upon the march swine were taken and killed for food without hesitation. many were found straying in the woods untended, the herdsmen having fled in dismay when the news of the defeat reached them. as yet the full extent of the disaster was unknown. some of the fugitives had reported that scarce a man had escaped; but the very number of fugitives who had preceded the band showed that this was an exaggeration. but it was not until long afterwards that the truth was known. of the great multitude, estimated at two hundred and thirty thousand, fully a third had fallen, among whom were almost all the women and children whose presence on the battlefield had proved so fatal, and of whom scarce one had been able to escape; for the romans, infuriated by the massacres at camalodunum, verulamium, and london had spared neither age nor sex. on their arrival at soto they obtained for the first time news of the queen. a chief of one of the northern subtribes of the iceni had driven through on his chariot and had told the headman of the hamlet that he had been one of the few who had accompanied boadicea in her flight. at the call of the queen, he said, the men threw themselves on the line of wagons in such number and force that a breach was made through them, horses and wagons being overthrown and dragged bodily aside. the chariot with the queen and her two daughters passed through, with four others containing the ladies who accompanied her. three or four chiefs also passed through in their chariots, and then the breach was filled by the struggling multitude, that poured out like a torrent. the chariots were well away before the roman horse swept round the wagons, and travelled without pursuit to a forest twenty miles away. as soon as they reached this the queen ordered the charioteers to dig graves, and then calling upon the god of her country to avenge her, she and her daughters and the ladies with them had all drunk poison, brewed from berries that they gathered in the wood. the chiefs would have done so also, but the queen forbade them. "it is for you," she said, "to look after your people, and to wage war with rome to the last. we need but two men to lay us in our graves and spread the sods over us; so that after death at least we shall be safe from further dishonour at the hands of the romans." when they had drunk the poison the men were ordered to leave them for an hour and then to return. when they did so the ladies were all dead, lying in a circle round boadicea. they were buried in the shallow holes that had been dug, the turf replaced, and dead leaves scattered over the spot, so that no roman should ever know where the queen of the iceni and her daughters slept. although beric had given up all hope of again seeing his mother alive, the news of her death was a terrible blow to him, and he wept unrestrainedly until aska placed a hand on his shoulder. "you must not give way to sorrow, beric. you have her people to look to. she has gone to the green island, where she will dwell in happiness, and where your father has been long expecting her. it is not at a death that we britons weep, knowing as we do that those that have gone are to be envied. arouse yourself! there is much to be done. the cattle will probably be here in the morning. we have to question the people here as to the great swamps, and get them to send to the fen people for guides who will lead us across the marshes to some spot where we can dwell above the level of the highest waters." beric put aside his private grief for the time, and several of the natives of the village who were accustomed to penetrate the swamps in search of game were collected and questioned as to the country. none, however, could give much useful information. there was a large river that ran through it, with innumerable smaller streams that wandered here and there. none had penetrated far beyond the margin, partly because they were afraid of losing their way, partly because of the enmity of the fen people. these were of a different race to themselves, and were a remnant of those whom the iceni had driven out of their country, and who, instead of going west, had taken refuge in the swamps, whither the invaders had neither the power nor inclination to follow them. "it is strange," aska said, "that just as they fled before us centuries ago, so we have now to fly before the romans. still, as they have maintained themselves there, so may we. but it will be necessary that we should try and secure the goodwill of these people and assure them that we do not come among them as foes." "there is no quarrel between us now," the headman of the hamlet said. "there has not been for many generations. they know that we do not seek to molest them, while they are not strong enough to molest us. there is trade between all the hamlets near the swamps and their people; they bring fish and wildfowl, and baskets which they weave out of rushes, and sell to us in exchange for woven cloth, for garments, and sometimes for swine which they keep upon some of their islands. "it is always they who come to us, we go not to them. they are jealous of our entering their country, and men who go too far in search of game have often been shot at by invisible foes. they take care that their arrows don't strike, but shoot only as a warning that we must go no farther. sometimes some foolhardy men have declared that they will go where they like in spite of the fenmen, and they have gone, but they have never returned. when we have asked the men who come in to trade what has become of them they say 'they do not know, most likely they had lost their way and died miserably, or fallen into a swamp and perished there;' and as the men have certainly lost their lives through their own obstinacy nothing can be done." "then some of these men speak our tongue, i suppose?" aska said. "yes, the men who come are generally the same, and these mostly speak a little of our language. from time to time some of our maidens have taken a fancy to these fenmen, and in spite of all their friends could do have gone off. none of these have ever returned, though messages have been brought saying they were well. we think that the men who do the trading are the children of women who went to live among them years ago." "then it is through one of these men that we must open communications with them," aska said. "some of them are here almost daily. no one has been today, and therefore we may expect one tomorrow morning. this is one of the chief places of trade with them. the women of the hamlets round bring here the cloth they have woven to exchange it for their goods, others from beyond them do the same, so that from all this part of the district goods are brought in here, while the fish and baskets of the fenmen go far and wide." chapter viii: the great swamps soon after daybreak next morning the headman came into the hut he had placed at the disposal of aska and beric with news that two of the fenmen had arrived. they at once went out and found that the two men had just laid down their loads, which were so heavy that beric wondered they could possibly have been carried by them. one had brought fish, the other wildfowl, slung on poles over their shoulders. these men were much shorter than the iceni, they were swarthier in complexion, and their hair was long and matted. their only clothing was short kilts made of the materials for which they bartered their game. "they both speak the language well," the headman said, "i will tell them what you want." the men listened to the statement that the chiefs before them desired to find with their followers a refuge in the fens, and that they were willing to make presents to the fenmen of cattle and other things, so that there should be friendship between them, and that they should be allowed to occupy some island in the swamps where they might live secure from pursuit. the men looked at each other as the headman began to speak, shaking their heads as if they thought the proposal impossible. "we will tell our people," they said, "but we do not think that they will agree; we have dwelt alone for long years without trouble with others. the coming of strangers will bring trouble. why do they seek to leave their land?" "our people have been beaten in battle by the romans," aska said, taking up the conversation, "and we need a refuge till the troubles are over." "the romans have won!" one of the men exclaimed in a tone that showed he was no stranger to what was going on beyond the circle of the fens. "they have won," aska repeated, "and there will be many fugitives who will seek for shelter in the fens. we would fain be friends with your people, but shelter we must have. our cause after all is the same, for when the romans have destroyed the iceni, and conquered all the countries round, they will hunt you down also, for they let none remain free in the lands where they are masters. the fen country is wide, there must be room for great numbers to shelter, and surely there must be places where we could live without disturbance to your people." "there is room," the man said briefly. "we will take your message to our people, our chiefs will decide." aska and beric wore few other ornaments than those denoting their position and authority. many of their followers, however, had jewels and bracelets, the spoil of the roman towns. beric left the group and spoke to boduoc, who in two or three minutes returned with several rings and bracelets. "you could have a score for every one of these," he said; "they are of no value to the men now, and indeed their possession would bring certain death upon any one wearing them did he fall into the hands of the romans." beric returned to the fenmen. "here," he said, "are some presents for your chiefs, tell them that we have many more like them." the men took them with an air of indifference. "they are of no use," they said, "though they may please women. if you want to please men you should give them hatchets and arms." "we will do that," aska said, "we have more than we require;" for indeed after the battle with cerealis and the sack of the towns all the men had taken roman swords and carried them in addition to their own weapons, regarding them not only as trophies but as infinitely superior to their own more clumsy implements for cutting wood and other purposes. at a word from beric four of these were brought and handed to the men, who took them with lively satisfaction. "could you take us with you to see your chiefs?" beric asked. they shook their heads. "no strangers can enter the swamps; but the chiefs will come to see you." "it is very urgent that no time shall be lost," beric said, "the romans may be here very shortly." "by the time the sun is at its highest the chiefs will be here or we will bring you an answer," they said. "come with us now, we will show you where to expect them, for they will not leave the edge of our land." after half an hour's walking through a swampy soil they arrived at the edge of a sluggish stream of water. here tied to a bush was a boat constructed of basket work covered with hide. in it lay two long poles. the men took their places in the coracle, pushed out into the stream, and using their poles vigorously were soon lost to sight among the thick grove of rush and bushes. aska and beric returned to the hamlet. "have you any idea of the number of these people?" they asked the headman. "no," he said, "no one has any idea; the swamps are of a vast extent from here away to the north. we know that long ago when the iceni endeavoured to penetrate there they were fiercely attacked by great numbers, and most of those who entered perished miserably, but for ages now there has been no trouble. the land was large enough for us, why should we fight to conquer swamps which would be useless to us? we believe that there are large numbers, although they have, from the nature of the country, little dealings with each other; but live scattered in twos and threes over their country, since, living by fishing and fowling, they would not care to dwell in large communities. they never talk much about themselves, but i have heard that they say that parts of the swamps are inhabited by strange monsters, huge serpents and other creatures, and that into these none dare penetrate." "all the better," beric said; "we are not afraid of monsters of any kind, and they might therefore let us settle in one of these neighbourhoods where we could clear out these enemies of theirs for them. it strikes me that our greatest difficulty will be to get our cattle across the morasses to firm ground. we shall have to contrive some plan for doing so. it will be no easy matter to feed so large a number as we shall be on fish and wildfowl." at noon the two chiefs returned to the spot where the men had left them, taking with them boduoc and another of their followers. a few minutes after they arrived there they heard sounds approaching, and in a short time four boats similar to those they had seen, and each carrying two men in addition to those poling, made their way one after another through the bushes that nearly met across the stream. most of the men were dressed like the two who had visited the village, but three of them were in attire somewhat similar to that of the iceni. these were evidently the chiefs. several of the men were much shorter and darker than those they had first seen, while the chiefs were about the same stature. all carried short bows and quivers of light arrows, and spears with the points hardened in the fire, for the iceni living near the swamps had been strictly forbidden to trade in arms or metal implements with the fenmen. the chiefs, however, all carried swords of iceni make. before the chiefs stepped ashore their followers landed, and at once, to the surprise of beric, scattered among the bushes. in two or three minutes they returned and said something in their own language to their chiefs, who then stepped ashore. "they were afraid of an ambush," aska muttered, "and have satisfied themselves that no one is hidden near." the chiefs were all able to speak the language of the iceni, and a long conversation ensued between them and beric. they protested at first that it was impossible for them to grant the request made; that for long ages no stranger had penetrated the swamps, and that although the intention of those who addressed them might be friendly, such might not always be the case, and that when the secrets of the paths and ways were once known they would never be free from danger of attack by their neighbours. "there is more room to the north," they said; "the fen country is far wider there, there is room for you all, while here the dry lands are occupied by us, and there is no room for so many strangers. we wish you well; we have no quarrel with you. ages have passed now since you drove our forefathers from the land; that is all forgotten. but as we have lived so long, so will we continue. we have no wants; we have fish and fowl in abundance, and what more we require we obtain in barter from you." "swords like those we sent you are useful," aska said. "they are made by the romans, and are vastly better than any we have. with one of those you might chop down as many saplings in a day as would build a hut, and could destroy any wild beasts that may lurk in your swamps. the people who are coming now are not like us. we were content with the land we had taken, and you dwelt among us undisturbed for ages; but the romans are not like us, they want to possess the whole earth, and when they have overrun our country they will never rest content till they have hunted you out also. there are thousands of us who will seek refuge in your swamps. you may oppose us, you may kill numbers of us, but in the end, step by step, we shall find our way in till we reach an island of firm land where we can establish ourselves. it is not that we have any ill will towards you, or that we covet your land, but with the romans behind us, slaying all they encounter, we shall have no choice but to go forward. "it will be for your benefit as well as ours. alone what could you do against men who fight with metal over their heads and bodies that your arrows could not penetrate, and with swords and darts that would cut and pierce you through and through? but with us--who have met and fought them in fair battle, and have once even defeated them with great slaughter--to help you to guard your swamps, it would be different, and even the romans, brave as they are, would hesitate before they tried to penetrate your land of mud and water. surely there must be some spots in your morasses that are still uninhabited. i have heard that there are places that are avoided because great serpents and other creatures live there, but so long as the land is dry enough for our cattle to live and for us to dwell we are ready to meet any living thing that may inhabit it." the chiefs looked awestruck at this offer on the part of the strangers, and then entered into an animated conversation together. "the matter is settled," aska said in a low voice to beric. "there are places they are afraid to penetrate, and i expect that, much as they object to our entering their country, they would rather have us as neighbours than these creatures that they are so much afraid of." when the chiefs' consultation was finished, the one who had before spoken turned to them and said: "what will you give if we take you to such a place?" "how far distant is it?" aska asked. "it is two days' journey from here," the chief said. "the distance is not great, but the channels are winding and difficult. there is land many feet above the water, but how large i cannot say. three miles to the west from here is the great river you call the ouse, it is on the other side of that where we dwell. none of us live on this side of that river. three hours' walk north from here is a smaller river that runs into the great one. at the point where the two rivers join you will cross the ouse, and then journey west in boats for a day; that will take you near the land we speak of." "but how are we to get the boats? we have no time to make them." "we will take you in our boats. this man," and he pointed to one of those who had been with them in the morning, "will go with you as a guide through the swamps to the river to the north. there we will meet you with twenty boats, and will take a party to the spot we speak of. then we will sell you the boats--we can build more--and you can take the rest of your party over as you like. what will you give us?" "we will give you twenty swords like those i sent you, and twenty spearheads, and a hundred copper arrowheads, and twenty cattle." the chiefs consulted together. "we want grain and we want skins," their spokesman said. "we have need of much grain, for if the romans take your land and kill your people, where shall we buy grain? and we want skins, for it takes two skins to make a boat, and we shall have to build twenty to take the place of those we give you." "we can give the skins," aska said, after a consultation with beric; "and i doubt not we can give grain. how much do you require?" "five boat loads filled to the brim." "to all your other terms we agree," aska said; "and you shall have as much grain as we can obtain. if we fall short of that quantity we will give for each boat load that is wanting three swords, six spearheads, and ten arrowheads." the bargain was closed. the fenmen had come resolved not to allow the strangers to enter their land, but their offer to occupy any spot, even if tenanted by savage beasts, entirely changed the position. in the recesses of the swamps to the east of the ouse lay a tract of country which they avoided with a superstitious fear. in the memory of man none had dared to approach that region, for there was a tradition among them that, when they had first fled from the iceni, a large party had penetrated there, and of these but a few returned, with tales of the destruction of their companions by huge serpents, and monsters of strange shapes, some of which were clothed in armour impenetrable to their heaviest weapons. from that time the spot had been avoided. legends had multiplied concerning the creatures that dwelt there, and it now seemed to the chiefs that they must be gainers in any case by the bargain. if the monsters conquered and devoured the iceni, as no doubt they would do, they would be well rid of them. if the iceni destroyed the monsters a large tract of country now closed would be open for fishing and fowling. they therefore accepted, without further difficulty, the terms the strangers offered. it was, moreover, agreed that any further parties of iceni should be free to join the first comers without hindrance, and that guides should be furnished to all who might come to the borders of the swamps to join their countrymen. they were to act in concert in case of any attack by the romans, binding themselves to assist each other to the utmost of their powers. "but how are we to convey our cattle over?" beric asked. the native shook his head. "it is too far for them to swim, and the ground in most places is a swamp, in which they would sink." "that must be an after matter, beric," aska said. "we will talk that over after we have arrived. evidently we can do nothing now. the great thing is to get to this place they speak of, and to prepare it to receive the women and other fugitives. when will you have the boats at the place you name?" "three hours after daylight tomorrow." "we will be there. you shall receive half the payments we have agreed upon before we start, the rest shall be paid you when you return with the boats and hand them over for the second detachment to go." the native nodded, and at once he and his companions took their places in their coracles, leaving the native who was to act as guide behind them. "they are undersized little wretches," boduoc said, as they started for the village; "no wonder that our forefathers swept them out of the land without any difficulty. but they are active and sturdy, and, knowing their swamps as they do, could harass an invader terribly. i don't think that at present they like our going into their country, but they will be glad enough of our aid if the romans come." when they reached the village they found that the herds had just arrived. the headman was surprised when they told him that the fenmen had agreed to allow them a shelter in the swamps, and he and eight or ten men who had straggled in since beric's party arrived, expressed their desire to accompany the party with their families. other women in the village would likewise have gone, but aska pointed out to them that they had better go north and take shelter among the brigantes, as all the women of his tribe had done, except those whose men were with them. "you will be better off there than among the swamps, and we cannot feed unnecessary mouths; nor have we means of transporting you there. we, too, would shelter in the woods, were it not that we mean to harass the romans, so we need a place where they cannot find us. but as you go spread the news that aska has sought refuge in the swamps with two hundred fighting sarci, and that all capable of bearing arms who choose to join them can do so. they must come to the junction of the two rivers, and there they will hear of us." as the villagers were unable to take away with them their stores of grain, they disposed of them readily to beric in exchange for gold ornaments, with which they could purchase cattle or such things as they required from the brigantes; they also resigned all property in their swine and cattle, which were to be left in the woods, to be fetched as required. aska and beric having made these arrangements, sat down to discuss what had best be done, as the twenty boats would only carry sixty, and would be away for two days before they returned for the second party. boduoc was called into the council, and after some discussion it was agreed that the best plan would be for the whole party to go down together to the junction of the rivers, each taking as large a burden of grain as he could carry, and driving their cattle before them. they heard from the headman that the whole country near the river was densely covered with bushes, and that the ground was swampy and very difficult to cross. they agreed, therefore, that they would form a strong intrenchment at the spot where they were to embark. it was unlikely in the extreme that the romans would seek to penetrate such a country, but if they did they were to be opposed as soon as they entered the swamps, and a desperate stand was to be made at the intrenchment, which would be approachable at one or two points only. six men were to be left at the village to receive the women and children when they arrived. the guide was to return as soon as he had led the main party to the point where the boats were to meet them, and to lead the second party to the same point. that evening, indeed, the women began to arrive, and said that they believed all would be in on the following day. among them was boduoc's mother, who told beric that her eldest daughter had started with berenice and cneius to meet the romans as soon as the news of the defeat reached them. when day broke, beric's command, with the women who had arrived, set off laden with as much grain in baskets or cloths as they could carry, and driving the cattle and pigs before them. the country soon became swampy, but their guide knew the ground well, and by a winding path led them dry footed through the bushes, though they could see water among the roots and grass on either side of them. they had, however, great difficulty with the cattle and pigs, but after several attempts to break away, and being nearly lost in the swamps, from which many of them had to be dragged out by sheer force, the whole reached the river. the men of the rear guard in charge of the main body of the swine and cattle did not arrive there until midday. the spot to which the guide led them was on the river flowing east and west, a mile from its junction with the main stream, as he told them that the swamps were too deep near the junction of the river for them to penetrate there. some of the boats were already at the spot. when they reached it aska and beric at once began to mark out a semicircle, with a radius of some fifty yards, on the river bank. ten of the cattle were killed and skinned, and as others of the party came up they were set to work to cut down the trees and undergrowth within the semicircle, and drag them to its edge, casting them down with their heads outwards so as to form a formidable abbatis. within half an hour of the appointed time the twenty boats had arrived together with as many more, in which the grain, hides, and other articles agreed to be paid were to be carried off. three of the cattle were cut up, and their flesh divided among the twenty boats, in which a quantity of grain was also placed. the seven remaining carcasses were for the use of the camp, the ten hides, half the grain, swords, spears, and arrowheads agreed upon, were handed over to the natives, and beric, as an extra gift, presented each of the three chiefs who had come with the boats with one of the roman shields, picked up on the field of battle. the chiefs were greatly pleased with the present, and showed more goodwill than they had exhibited at their first interview. aska had arranged with beric to remain behind in charge of the encampment. as soon, therefore, as the presents had been handed over, beric with boduoc and three men to each boat took their places and pushed from shore. the boats of the fenmen put off at the same time, and the natives, of whom there was one in each of beric's boats, poled their way down the sluggish stream until they reached a wide river. the chiefs here shouted an adieu and directed their course up the river, while beric's party crossed, proceeded down it for two miles, and then turned up a narrow stream running into it. all day they made their way along its windings; other streams came in on either side or quitted it; and, indeed, for some hours they appeared to be traversing a network of water from which rose trees and bushes. the native in beric's boat, which led, could speak the language of the iceni, and he explained to beric that the waters were now high, but that when they subsided the land appeared above them, except in the course of the streams. "it is always wet and swampy," he said; "and men cannot traverse this part on foot except by means of flat boards fastened to the feet by loops of leather; this prevents them from sinking deeply in." late in the afternoon the country became drier, and the land showed itself above the level of the water. the native now showed signs of much perturbation, stopping frequently and listening. "i have come much farther now," he said, "than i have ever been before, and i dare not have ventured so far were it not that these floods would have driven everything back; but i know from an old man who once ventured to push farther, that this is the beginning of rising ground, and that in a short time you will find it dry enough to land. i advise you to call the other boats up so that in case of danger you can support each other." the stream they were following was now very narrow, the branches of the trees meeting overhead. "can any of the other fenmen in the boats speak our language?" beric asked. the man replied in the negative. "that is good," he said; "i don't want my men to be frightened with stories about monsters. i don't believe in them myself, though i do not say that in the old time monsters may not have dwelt here. if anything comes we shall know how to fight it; but it is gloomy and dark enough here to make men uncomfortable without anything else to shake their courage." at last they reached a spot where the bank was two feet above the water, and they could see that it rose further inland. several of the other fenmen had been shouting for some time to beric's boatmen, and their craft had been lagging behind. beric therefore thought it well to land at once. the boats were accordingly called up, the meat and grain landed, and the men leapt ashore, the boatmen instantly poling their crafts down stream at their utmost speed. "we will go no farther tonight," beric said; "but choose a comfortable spot and make a fire. it will be time enough in the morning to explore this place and fix on a spot for a permanent encampment." a place was soon chosen and cleared of bushes. the men in several of the boats had at starting brought brands with them from the fires. these were carried across each other so as to keep the fire in, and eight or ten of these brands being laid together in the heart of the brushwood and fanned vigorously a bright flame soon shot up. the men's spirits had sunk as they passed through the wild expanse of swamp and water, but they rose now as the fire burned up. meat was speedily frying in the flames, and this was eaten as soon as it was cooked, nothing being done with the grain, which they had no means of pounding. they had also brought with them several jars of beer from the village, and these were passed round after they had eaten their fill of meat. "we will place four sentries," beric said, "there may well be wolves or other wild beasts in these swamps." after supper was over boduoc questioned beric privately as to the monsters of which their boatman had spoken. "it is folly," beric said. "you know that we have legends among ourselves, which we learned from the natives who were here before we came, that at one time strange creatures wandered over the country; but if there were such creatures they died long ago. these fenmen have a story among themselves that such beasts lived in the heart of the swamp here when they first fled before us. it is quite possible that this is true, for although they died ages ago on the land they may have existed long afterwards among the swamps where there were none to disturb them. i have read in some of the roman writers that there are creatures protected by a coat of scales in a country named egypt, and that they live hundreds of years. possibly these creatures, which the legends say were a sort of dragon, may have lingered here, but as they do not seem to have shown themselves to the fenmen since their first arrival here, it is not at all likely that there are any of them left; if there are we shall have to do battle with them." "do you think they will be very formidable, beric?" "i do not suppose so. they might be formidable to one man, but not to sixty well armed as we are; but i have not any belief that we shall meet with them." the night passed quite quietly, and in the morning the band set out to explore the country. it rose gradually until they were, as beric judged, from forty to fifty feet above the level of the swamp. large trees grew here, and the soil was perfectly dry. the ground on the summit was level for about a quarter of a mile, and then gradually sank again. a mile farther they were again at the edge of a swamp. "nothing could have suited us better," beric said. "at the top we can form an encampment which will hold ten thousand men, and there is dry ground a mile all round for the cattle and swine." presently there was a shout from some men who had wandered away, and beric, bidding others follow, ran to the spot. they found men standing looking in wonder at a great number of bones lying in what seemed a confused mass. "here is your monster," beric said; "they are snake bones." this was evident to all, and exclamations of wonder broke from them at their enormous size. one man got hold of a pair of ribs, and placing them upright they came up to his chin. the men looked apprehensively round. "you need not be afraid," beric said. "the creature has probably been dead hundreds of years. you see his skin is all decayed away, and it must have been thick and tough indeed. by the way the bones are piled together, he must have curled up here to die. he was probably the last of his race. however, we will search the island thoroughly, keeping together in readiness to encounter anything that we may alight upon." great numbers of snakes were found, but none of any extraordinary size. "no doubt they fled here in the rains," beric said, "when the water rose and covered the swamps; we shall not be troubled with them when the morasses dry. anyhow they are quite harmless, and save that they may kill a chicken or two when we get some, they will give us no trouble. the swine will soon clear them off." it was late in the day before the search was completed, and they then returned to the camping ground of the night before, quite assured that there was no creature of any size upon the island. just as evening was falling on the following day they heard shouts. "are you alive?" a voice, which beric recognized as that of his boatman, shouted. "yes," he exclaimed, "alive and well. there is nothing to be afraid of here." a few minutes later the twenty boats again came up. the fenmen this time ventured to land, but beric's boatman questioned him anxiously about the monsters. beric, who thought it as well to maintain the evil reputation of the place, told him that they had searched the island and had found no living monsters, but had come across a dead serpent, who must have been seventy or eighty feet long. "there are no more of them here," he said, "but of course there may be others that have been alarmed at the noises we made and have taken to the swamps. this creature has been dead for a long time, and may have been the last of his race. however, if one were to come we should not be afraid of it with a hundred and twenty fighting men here." the fenmen, after a consultation among themselves, agreed that it would be safer to pass the night with the iceni than to start in the darkness among the swamps. when they left in the morning beric sent a message to aska describing the place, and begging him to send up some of the women with the next party with means of grinding the grain. as soon as the boats were started beric led the party up to the top of the rise, and then work was begun in earnest, and in a couple of days a large number of huts were constructed of saplings and brushwood cleared off from the centre of the encampment. some women arrived with the next boat loads, and at once took the preparation of food into their hands. aska sent a message saying that the numbers at his camp were undiminished, as most of the fighting men belonging to the villages round who had survived the battle had joined him at once with their wives, and that fresh men were pouring in every hour. he urged beric to leave boduoc in charge of the island, and to return with the empty boats in order that they might have a consultation. this beric did, and upon his arrival he found that there were over four hundred men in camp, with a proportionate number of women and children. there were several subchiefs among them, and aska invited them to join in the council. "it is evident," he said, "that so large a number as this cannot find food in one place in the swamps, at any rate until we have learned to catch fish and snare wildfowl as the fenmen do. the swine we can take there, but these light boats would not carry cattle in any numbers, though some might be thrown and carried there, with their legs tied together. at present this place is safe from attack. there is only one path, our guide says, by which it can be approached. i propose that we cut wide gaps through this, and throw beams and planks over them. these we can remove in case of attack. when we hear of the romans' approach we can throw up a high defence of trees and bushes behind each gap." "that will be excellent," beric agreed, "and you would doubtless be able to make a long defence against them on the causeway. but you must not depend upon their keeping upon that. they will wade through the swamp waist deep, and, if it be deeper still, will cut down bushes and make faggots and move forward on these. so, though you may check them on the causeway, they will certainly, by one means or other, make their way up to your intrenchment, and you must therefore strengthen this in every way. i should build up a great bank behind it, so that if they break through or fire the defences you can defend the bank. there is one thing that must be done without delay; we must build more boats. there must be here many men from the eastern coast, where they have much larger and stronger craft than these coracles. i should put a strong party to work upon them. then, in case of an attack, you could, when you see that longer resistance would be vain, take to the boats and join me; or, when the romans approach, send them off to fetch my party from the island. besides, we shall want to move bodies of men rapidly so as to attack and harass the enemy when they are not expecting us. "i should say that we ought to have at least twenty great flatboats able to carry fifty men each. speed would not be of much consequence, as the romans will have no boats to follow us; besides, except on the ouse and one or two of the larger streams, there is no room for rowing, and they must be poled along. let us keep none but fighting men here. as all the villagers fled north there must be numbers of cattle and swine wandering untended in all the woods, and in many of the hamlets much grain must have been left behind, therefore i should send out parties from time to time to bring them in. when the large boats are built we can transport some of the cattle alive to the island; till then they must be slaughtered here; but with each party a few swine might be sent to the island, where they can range about as they choose. what is the last news you have of the romans?" "they are pressing steadily north, burning and slaying. i hear that they spare none, and that the whole land of the trinobantes, from the thames to the stour, has been turned into a waste." "it was only what we had to expect, aska. have any more of my people come in since i left?" "only a young girl. she arrived last night. it is she that brought the news that i am giving you. she is a sister of your friend boduoc, and her mother, who had given her up for lost, almost lost her senses with delight when she returned. the family are fortunate, for another son also came in two or three days ago." beric at once went in search of boduoc's mother, whom he found established with her girls in a little bower. "i am glad indeed that your daughter has returned safe," he said, as the old woman came out on hearing his voice. "yes, i began to think that i should never see her face again, beric; but i am fortunate indeed, when so many are left friendless, that all my four children should be spared. "tell the chief how you fulfilled your mission," she said to the girl. "it was easy enough," she replied. "had i been by myself i should have returned here three days since, but the little lady could not make long journeys, and it was three days after we left before we saw any of the romans. at last we came upon a column of horse. when we saw them the little lady gave me this bracelet, and she put this gold chain into my hand and said, 'beric.' so i knew that it was for you. then i ran back and hid myself in the trees while they went forward. when they got near the soldiers on horseback the man lifted up his arms and cried something in a loud voice. then they rode up to them, and for some time i could see nothing. then the horsemen rode on again, all but two of them, who went on south. the man rode behind one of them, and the little lady before another. then i turned and made hither, travelling without stopping, except once for a few hours' sleep. there are many fugitives in the woods, and from them i heard that the land of the trinobantes was lit up by burning villages, and that the romans were slaughtering all. some of those i met in the wood had hid themselves, and had made their way at night, and they saw numbers of dead bodies, women and children as well as men, in the burned hamlets." "you have done your mission well," beric said. "boduoc will be glad when i tell him how you have carried out my wish. we must find a good husband for you some day, and i will take care that you go to him with a good store of cattle and swine. where is your brother?" "he is there," she said, "leaning against that tree waiting for you." "i am glad to see you safe among us," beric said to the young man. "how did you escape the battle?" "i was driving the chariot with parta's attendants, as i had from the day we started. i kept close behind her chariot, and escaped with her when the line of wagons was broken to let the queen pass. when we got far away from the battle your mother stopped her chariot and bade me go north. 'i have no more need of attendants,' she said; 'let them save themselves. do you find my son if he has escaped the battle, and tell him that i shall share the fate of boadicea. i have lived a free woman, and will die one. tell him to fight to the end against the romans, and that i shall expect him to join me before long in the happy island. bid him not lament for me, but rejoice, as he should, that i have gone to the land where there are no sorrows.' then i turned my chariot and drove to your home to await your coming there if you should have escaped. it was but a few hours after that the messengers brought the news that you were safe, and that the survivors of your band were to join you at soto with such men as might have escaped. as parta's orders were to take the women with me to the north, i drove them two days farther, taking with me a lad, the brother of one of them. then i handed over the chariot to him, to convey them to the land of the brigantes, and started hither on foot to join you." "you shall go on with me tomorrow, you and your mother and sisters. boduoc will be rejoiced to see you all. we have found a place where even the romans will hardly reach us." chapter ix: the struggle in the swamp that evening beric had a long talk with aska and four or five men from the coast accustomed to the building of large boats. the matter would be easy enough, they said, as the boats would not be required to withstand the strain of the sea, and needed only to be put together with flat bottoms and sides. with so large a number of men they could hew down trees of suitable size, and thin them down until they obtained a plank from each. they would then be fastened together by strong pegs and dried moss driven in between the crevices. pitch, however, would be required to stop up the seams, and of this they had none. "then," beric said, "we must make some pitch. there is no great difficulty about that. there are plenty of fir trees growing near the edges of the swamps, and from the roots of these we can get tar." the men were all acquainted with the process, which was a simple one. a deep hole was dug in the ground. the bottom of this was lined with clay, hollowed out into a sort of bowl. the hole was then filled with the roots of fir closely packed together. when it was full a fire was lit above it. as soon as this had made its way down earth was piled over it and beaten down hard, a small orifice being left in the centre. in this way the wood was slowly converted into charcoal, and the resin and tar, as they oosed out under the heat, trickled down into the bowl of clay at the bottom. as little or no smoke escaped after the fire was first lighted, the work could be carried on without fear of attracting the attention of any bodies of the enemy who might be searching the country. two months passed. by the end of that time the intrenchment on the river bank had been made so strong that it could resist any attack save by a very large body of men. that on the island had also been completed, and strong banks thrown up at the only three points where a landing could be effected from boats. the swamps had been thoroughly explored in the neighbourhood, and another island discovered, and on this three hundred men had been established, while four hundred remained on the great island, and as many in the camp on the river. there were over a thousand women and children distributed among the three stations. three hundred men had laboured incessantly at the boats, and these were now finished. while all this work had been going on considerable numbers of fish and wildfowl had been obtained by barter from the fenmen, with whom they had before had dealings, and from other communities living among the swamps to the north. many of the iceni, who came from the marshy districts of the eastern rivers, were also accustomed to fishing and fowling, and, as soon as the work on the defences was finished and the tortuous channels through the swamps became known to them, they began to lay nets, woven by the women, across the streams, and to make decoys and snares of all sorts for the wildfowl. the framework for many coracles had been woven of withies by the women, and the skins of all the cattle killed were utilized as coverings, so that by the end of the two months they had quite a fleet of little craft of this kind. as fast as the larger boats were finished they were used for carrying cattle to the islands, and a large quantity of swine were also taken over. during this time the romans had traversed the whole country of the iceni. the hamlets were fired, and all persons who fell into their hands put to death; but the number of these was comparatively small, as the greater part of the population had either moved north or taken to the woods, which were so extensive that comparatively few of the fugitives were killed by the search parties of the romans. from the few prisoners that the romans took they heard reports that many of the iceni had taken refuge in the swamps, and several strong bodies had moved along the edge of the marsh country without attempting to penetrate it. aska and beric had agreed that so long as they were undisturbed they would remain quiet, confining themselves to their borders, except when they sent parties to search for cattle in the woods or to gather up grain that might have escaped destruction in the hamlets, and that they would avoid any collision with the romans until their present vigilance abated or they attempted to plant settlers in their neighbourhood. circumstances, however, defeated this intention. they learned from the fenmen that numerous fugitives had taken refuge in the southern swamps, and that these sallying out had fallen upon parties of romans near huntingdon, and had cut them to pieces. the romans had in consequence sent a considerable force to avenge this attack. these had penetrated some distance into the swamps, but had there been attacked and driven back with much slaughter. but a fortnight later a legion had marched to huntingdon, and crossing the river there had established a camp opposite, which they called godmancastra, and, having collected a number of natives from the west, were engaged in building boats in which they intended to penetrate the swamp country and root out the fugitives. "it was sure to come sooner or later," aska said to beric. "nor should we wish it otherwise. we came here not to pass our lives as lurking fugitives, but to gather a force and avenge ourselves on the romans. if you like i will go up the river and see our friends there, and ascertain their strength and means of resistance. would it be well, think you, to tell them of our strong place here and offer to send our boats to bring them down, so that we may make a great stand here?" "no, i think not," beric said. "nothing would suit the romans better than to catch us all together, so as to destroy us at one blow. we know that in the west they stormed the intrenchments of cassivellaunus, and that no native fort has ever withstood their assault. i should say that it ought to be a war of small fights. we should attack them constantly, enticing them into the deepest parts of the morass, and falling upon them at spots where our activity will avail against their heavily weighted men. we should pour volleys of arrows into their boats as they pass along through the narrow creeks, show ourselves at points where the ground is firm enough for them to land, and then falling back to deep morasses tempt them to pursue us there, and then turn upon them. we should give them no rest night or day, and wear them out with constant fighting and watching. the fens are broad and long, stretching from huntingdon to the sea; and if they are contested foot by foot, we may tire out even the power of rome." "you are right, beric; but at any rate it will be well to see how our brethren are prepared. they may have no boats, and may urgently need help." "i quite agree with you, and i think it would be as well for you to go. you could offer to bring all their women and children to our islands here, and then we would send down a strong force to help them. we should begin to contest strongly the roman advance from the very first." accordingly aska started up the ouse in one of the large boats with twelve men to pole it along, and three days afterwards returned with the news that there were some two thousand men with twice that many women and children scattered among the upper swamps. "they have only a few small boats," he said, "and are in sore straits for provisions. they drove at first a good many cattle in with them, but most of these were lost in the morasses, and as there have been bodies of horse moving about near huntingdon, they have not been able to venture out as we have done to drive in more." "have they any chief with them?" beric asked. "none of any importance. all the men are fugitives from the battle, who were joined on their way north by the women of the villages. they are broken up into groups, and have no leader to form any general plan. i spoke to the principal men among them, and told them that we had strongly fortified several places here, had built a fleet of boats, and were prepared for warfare; they will all gladly accept you as their leader. they urgently prayed that we would send our boats down for the women and children, and i promised them that you would do so, and would also send down some provisions for the fighting men." the next morning the twenty large boats, each carrying thirty men and a supply of meat and grain, started up the river, beric himself going with them, and taking boduoc as his lieutenant. aska remained in command at the river fort, where the force was maintained at its full strength, the boat party being drawn entirely from the two islands. four miles below huntingdon they landed at a spot where the greater part of the iceni there were gathered. fires were at once lighted, and a portion of the meat cooked, for the fugitives were weak with hunger. as soon as this was satisfied, orders were issued for half the women and children to be brought in. these were crowded into the boats, which, in charge of four men in each, then dropped down the stream, beric having given orders that the boats were to return as soon as the women were landed on the island. he spent the next two days in traversing the swamps in a coracle, ascertaining where there was firm ground, and where the morasses were impassable. he learned all the particulars he could gather about the exact position of the roman camp, and the spot where the boats were being constructed--the iceni were already familiar with several paths leading out of the morasses in that neighbourhood--and then drew out a plan for an attack upon the romans. he had brought with him half the sarci who had retired with him from the battle. these he would himself command. a force of four hundred men, led by boduoc, were to travel by different paths through the swamp; they were then to unite and to march round the roman camp, and attack it suddenly on three sides at once. the camp was in the form of a horseshoe, and its ends resting on the river, and it was here that the boats were being built. beric himself with his own hundred men and fifty others were to embark in four boats. as soon as they were fairly beyond the swamp, they were to land on the huntingdon side, and to tow their boats along until within two or three hundred yards of the roman camp, when they were to await the sound of boduoc's horn. boduoc's instructions were that he was to attack the camp fiercely on all sides. the roman sentries were known to be so vigilant that there was but slight prospect of his entering the camp by surprise, or of his being able to scale the palisades at the top of the bank of earth. the attack, however, was to be made as if in earnest, and was to be maintained until beric's horn gave the signal for them to draw off, when they were to break up into parties as before, and to retire into the heart of the swamp by the paths by which they had left it. the most absolute silence was to be observed until the challenge of the roman sentries showed that they were discovered, when they were to raise their war shouts to the utmost so as to alarm and confuse the enemy. the night was a dark one and a strong wind was blowing, so that beric's party reached their station unheard by the sentries on the walls of the camp. it was an hour before they heard a distant shout, followed instantly by the winding of a horn, and the loud war cry of the iceni. at the same moment the trumpets in the roman intrenchments sounded, and immediately a tumult of confused shouting arose around and within the camp. beric remained quiet for five minutes till the roar of battle was at its highest, and he knew that the attention of the romans would be entirely occupied with the attack. then the boats were again towed along until opposite the centre of the horseshoe; the men took their places in them again and poled them across the river. the fifty men who accompanied the sarci carried bundles of rushes dipped in pitch, and in each boat were burning brands which had been covered with raw hides to prevent the light being seen. they were nearly across the river when some sentries there, whose attention had hitherto been directed entirely to the walls, suddenly shouted an alarm. as soon as the boats touched the shore, beric and his men leapt out, passed through the half built boats and the piles of timber collected beside them, and formed up to repel an attack. at the same moment the others lighted their bundles of rushes at the brands, and jumping ashore set fire to the boats and wood piles. astonished at this outburst of flame within their camp, while engaged in defending the walls from the desperate attacks of the iceni, the romans hesitated, and then some of them came running down to meet the unexpected attack. but the sarci had already pressed quickly on, followed by some of the torch bearers, and were in the midst of the roman tents before the legionaries gathered in sufficient force to meet them. the torches were applied to the tents, and fanned by the breeze, the flames spread rapidly from one to another. beric blew the signal for retreat, and his men in a solid body, with their spears outward, fell back. the romans, as they arrived at the spot, rushed furiously upon them; but discipline was this time on the side of the sarci, who beat off all attacks till they reached the river bank. then in good order they took their places in the boats, beric with a small body covering the movement till the last; then they made a rush to the boats; the men, standing with their poles ready, instantly pushed the craft into the stream, and in two minutes they were safe on the other side. the boats and piles of timber were already blazing fiercely, while the roman camp, in the centre of the intrenchment, was in a mass of flames, lighting up the helmets and armour of the soldiers ranged along the wall, and engaged in repelling the attacks of the iceni. as soon as the sarci were across, they leapt ashore and towed the boat along by the bank. a few arrows fell among them, but as soon as they had pushed off from the shore most of the romans had run back to aid in the defence of the walls. beric's horn now gave the signal that the work was done, and in a short time the shouts of the iceni began to subside, the din of the battle grew fainter, and in a few minutes all was quiet round the roman camp. there was great rejoicing when the parties of the iceni met again in the swamp. they had struck a blow that would greatly inconvenience the romans for some time, would retard their attack, and show them that the spirit of the britons was still high. the loss of the iceni had been very small, only some five or six of beric's party had fallen, and twenty or thirty of the assailants of the wall; they believed that the romans had suffered much more, for they could be seen above their defences by the light of the flames behind them, while the iceni were in darkness. thus the darts and javelins of the defenders had been cast almost at random, while they themselves had been conspicuous marks for the missiles of the assailants. in beric's eyes the most important point of the encounter was that it had given confidence to the fugitives, had taught them the advantage of fighting with a plan, and of acting methodically and in order. there was a consultation next morning. beric pointed out to the leaders that although it was necessary sometimes with an important object in view to take the offensive, they must as a rule stand on the defensive, and depend upon the depth of their morasses and their knowledge of the paths across them to baffle the attempts of the romans to penetrate. "i should recommend," he said, "that you break up into parties of fifteens and twenties, and scatter widely over the fen country, and yet be near enough to each other to hear the sound of the horn. each party must learn every foot of the ground and water in the neighbourhood round them. in that way you will be able to assemble when you hear the signal announcing the coming of the romans, you will know the paths by which you can attack or retreat, and the spots where you can make your way across, but where the romans cannot follow you. each party must earn its sustenance by fishing and fowling; and in making up your parties, there should be two or three men in each accustomed to this work. each party must provide itself with coracles; i will send up a boat load of hides. beyond that you must search for cattle and swine in the woods, when by sending spies on shore you find there are no parties of romans about. "the parties nearest to huntingdon should be always vigilant, and day and night keep men at the edge of the swamp to watch the doings of the romans, and should send notice to me every day or two as to what the enemy are doing, and when they are likely to advance. should they come suddenly, remember that it is of no use to try to oppose their passage down the river. their boats will be far stronger than ours, and we should but throw away our lives by fighting them there. they may go right down to the sea if they please, but directly they land or attempt to thrust their boats up the channels through the swamp, then every foot must be contested. they must be shot down from the bushes, enticed into swamps, and overwhelmed with missiles. let each man make himself a powerful bow and a great sheath of arrows pointed with flints or flakes of stone, which must be fetched from the dry land, although even without these they will fly straight enough if shot from the bushes at a few yards' distance. "let the men practice with these, and remember that they must aim at the legs of the romans. it is useless to shoot at either shields or armour. besides, let each man make himself a spear, strong, heavy, and fully eighteen feet long, with the point hardened in the fire, and rely upon these rather than upon your swords to check their progress. whenever you find broad paths of firm ground across the swamps, cut down trees and bushes to form stout barriers. "make friends with the fenmen. be liberal to them with gifts, and do not attempt to plant parties near them, for this would disturb their wildfowl and lead to jealousy and quarrels. however well you may learn the swamps, they know them better, and were they hostile might lead the romans into our midst. in some parts you may not find dry land on which to build huts; in that case choose spots where the trees are stout, lash saplings between these and build your huts upon them so as to be three or four feet above the wet soil. some of my people who know the swamps by the eastern rivers tell me that this is the best way to avoid the fen fevers." having seen that everything was arranged, beric and his party returned to their camp. for some time the reports from the upper river stated that the romans were doing little beyond sending out strong parties to cut timber. then came the news that a whole legion had arrived, and that small forts containing some two hundred men each were being erected, three or four miles apart, on both sides of the fen. "that shows that all resistance must have ceased elsewhere," aska said, "or they would never be able to spare so great a force as a legion and a half against us. i suppose that these forts are being built to prevent our obtaining cattle, and that they hope to starve us out. they will hardly succeed in that, for the rivers and channels swarm with fish, and now that winter is coming on they will abound with wildfowl." "i am afraid of the winter," beric said, "for then they will be able to traverse the swamps, where now they would sink over their heads." "unless the frosts are very severe, beric, the ground will not harden much, for every foot is covered with trees and bushes. as to grain we can do without it, but we shall be able to fetch some at least down from the north. indeed, it would need ten legions to form a line along both sides of the fen country right down to the sea and to pen us in completely." by this time the iceni had become familiar with the channels through the swamps for long distances from their fastness, and had even established a trade with the people lying to the northwest of the fen country. they learnt that the romans boasted they had well nigh annihilated the trinobantes and iceni; but that towards the other tribes that had taken part in the great rising they had shown more leniency, though some of their principal towns had been destroyed and the inhabitants put to the sword. a month later a fleet of boats laden with roman soldiers started from huntingdon and proceeded down the ouse. dead silence reigned round them, and although they proceeded nearly to the sea they saw no signs of a foe, and so turning they rowed back to huntingdon. but in their absence the iceni had not been idle. the spies from the swamps had discovered when the expedition was preparing to start, and had found too that a strong body of troops was to march along the edges of the swamps in order to cut off the iceni should they endeavour to make their escape. the alarm had been sounded from post to post, and in accordance with the orders of beric the whole of the fighting men at once began to move south, some in boats, some in their little coracles, which were able to thread their way through the network of channels. the night after the romans started, the whole of the fighting force of the britons was gathered in the southern swamps, and two hours before daybreak issued out. some five hundred, led by aska, followed the western bank of the river towards huntingdon, which had for the time been converted into a roman city, inhabited by the artisans who had constructed the boats and the settlers who supplied the army; it had been garrisoned by five hundred legionaries, of whom three hundred had gone away in the boats. the main body advanced against the roman camp on the opposite bank, in which, as their spies had learnt, three hundred men had been left as a garrison. by beric's orders a great number of ladders had been constructed. as upon the previous occasion the camp was surrounded before they advanced against it, and when the first shout of a sentry showed that they were discovered beric's horn gave the signal, and with a mighty shout the britons rushed on from all sides. dashing down the ditch, and climbing the steep bank behind it the iceni planted their ladders against the palisade, and swarming over it poured into the camp before the romans had time to gather to oppose them. beric had led his own band of two hundred trained men against the point where the wall of the camp touched the river, and as soon as they were over formed them up and led them in a compact body against the romans. in spite of the suddenness of the attack, the discipline of the legionaries was unshaken, and as soon as their officers found that the walls were already lost they formed their men in a solid body to resist the attack. before beric with his band reached the spot the romans were already engaged in a fierce struggle with the britons, who poured volleys of darts and arrows among them, and desperately strove, sword in hand, to break their solid formation. this they were unable to do, until beric's band six deep with their hedge of spears before them came up, and with a loud shout threw themselves upon the romans. the weight and impetus of the charge was irresistible. the roman cohort was broken, and a deadly hand to hand struggle commenced. but here the numbers and the greatly superior height and strength of the britons were decisive, and before many minutes had passed the last roman had been cut down, the scene of the battle being lighted up by the flames of huntingdon. a shout of triumph from the britons announced that all resistance had ceased. beric at once blew his horn, and, as had been previously arranged, four hundred of the island men immediately started under boduoc to oppose the garrison at the nearest fort, should they meet these hastening to the assistance of their comrades. then a systematic search for plunder commenced. one of the storehouses was emptied of its contents and fired, and by its light the arms and armour of the roman soldiers were collected, the huts and tents rifled of everything of value, the storehouses emptied of their stores of grain and provisions, and of the tools that had been used for the building of boats. everything that could be of use to the defenders was taken, and fire was then applied to the buildings and tents. morning broke before this was accomplished, and laden down with spoil the iceni returned to their swamps, boduoc's and aska's parties rejoining them there. the former had met the romans hurrying from the nearest fort to aid the garrison of the camp. beric's orders had been that boduoc was if possible to avoid a fight, as in the open the discipline of the romans would probably prevail over british valour. the iceni, therefore, set up a great shouting in front and in the rear of the romans, shooting their missiles among them, and being unable in the dark to perceive the number of their assailants, and fearful that they had fallen into an ambush, the romans fell back to their fort. aska's party had also returned laden with plunder, and as soon as the whole were united a division of this was made. the provisions, clothing, and arms were divided equally among the men, while the stores of rope, metal, canvas, and other articles that would be useful to the community were set aside to be taken to the island. thither also the shields, armour, and helmets of the roman soldiers were to be conveyed, to be broken up and melted into spear and arrow heads. as the roman boats returned two days later from their useless passage down the river, they were astonished and enraged by outbursts of mocking laughter from the tangle of bushes fringing the river. not a foe was to be seen, but for miles these sounds of derisive laughter assailed them from both sides of the stream. the veterans ground their teeth with rage, and would have rowed towards the banks had not their officers, believing that it was the intention of the britons to induce them to land, and then to lead them into an ambush, ordered them to keep on their way. on passing beyond the region of the swamp a cry of dismay burst from the crowded boats, as it was perceived that the town of huntingdon had entirely disappeared. as they neared the camp, however, the sight of numerous sentries on the walls relieved them of part of their anxiety; but upon landing they learnt the whole truth, that the five hundred roman soldiers in the camp and at huntingdon had fallen to a man, and that the whole of the stores collected had been carried away or destroyed. the news had been sent rapidly along the chain of forts on either side of the swamp, and fifty men from each had been despatched to repair and reoccupy the camp, which was now held by a thousand men, who had already begun to repair the palisades that had been fired by the britons. this disaster at once depressed and infuriated the roman soldiers, while it showed to the general commanding them that the task he had been appointed to perform was vastly more serious than he had expected. already, as he had traversed mile after mile of the silent river, he had been impressed with the enormous difficulty there would be in penetrating the pathless morasses, extending as he knew in some places thirty or forty miles in width. the proof now afforded of the numbers, determination, and courage of the men lurking there still further impressed him with the gravity of the undertaking. messengers were at once sent off to suetonius, who was at camalodunum, which he was occupied in rebuilding, to inform him of the reverse, and to ask for orders, and the general with five hundred men immediately set out for the camp of godman. suetonius at once proceeded to examine for himself the extent of the fen country, riding with a body of horsemen along the eastern boundary as far as the sea, and then, returning to the camp, followed up the western margin until he again reached the sea. he saw at once that the whole of the roman army in britain would be insufficient to guard so extensive a line, and that it would be hopeless to endeavour to starve out men who could at all times make raids over the country around them. the first step to be taken must be to endeavour to circumscribe their limits. orders were at once sent to the british tribes in south and midlands to send all their available men, and as these arrived they were set to work to clear away by axe and fire the trees and bush on the eastern side of the river ouse. as soon as the intentions of the romans were understood, the british camp at the junction of the rivers was abandoned, as with so large a force of workmen the romans could have made wide roads up to it, and although it might have resisted for some time, it must eventually fall, while the romans, by sending their flotilla of boats down, could cut off the retreat of the garrison. for two months thirty thousand workmen laboured under the eyes of strong parties of roman soldiers, and the work of denuding the swamps east of the ouse was accomplished. winter had now set in, but the season was a wet one, and although the romans made repeated attempts to fire the brushwood from the south and west, they failed to do so. severe frost accompanied by heavy snow set in late, and as soon as the ground was hard enough the romans entered the swamps near huntingdon, and began their advance northwards. the britons were expecting them, and the whole of their fighting force had gathered to oppose them. beric and aska set them to work as soon as the roman army crossed the river and marched north, and as the romans advanced slowly and carefully through the tangled bushes, they heard a strange confused noise far ahead of them, and after marching for two miles came upon a channel, where the ice had been broken into fragments. they at once set to work to cut down bushes and form them into faggots to fill up the gaps, but as they approached the channel with these they were assailed by volleys of arrows from the bushes on the opposite side. the light armed troops were brought up, and the work of damming the channel at a dozen points, was covered by a shower of javelins and arrows. the britons, however, had during the past month made shields of strong wicker work of roman pattern, but long enough to cover them from the eyes down to the ankles, and the wicker work was protected by a double coating of ox hide. boys collected the javelins as fast as they were thrown, and handed them to the men. as soon as the road across the channel was completed the romans poured over, believing that now they should scatter their invisible foes; but they were mistaken, for the britons with levelled spears, their bodies covered with their bucklers, burst down upon them as they crossed, while a storm of darts and javelins poured in from behind the fighting line. again and again they were driven back, until after suffering great loss they made good their footing at several points, when, at the sound of a horn, resistance at once ceased, and the britons disappeared as if by magic. advancing cautiously the romans found that the ice in all the channels had been broken up, and they were soon involved in a perfect network of sluggish streams. across these the britons had felled trees to form bridges for their retreat, and these they dragged after them as soon as they crossed. every one of these streams was desperately defended, and as the line of swamp grew wider the roman front became more and more scattered. late in the afternoon a sudden and furious attack was made upon them from the rear, beric having taken a strong force round their flank. numbers of the romans were killed before they could assemble to make head against the attack, and as soon as they did so their assailants as usual drew off. after a long day's fighting the romans had gained scarce a mile from the point where resistance had commenced, and this at a cost of over three hundred men. suetonius himself had commanded the attack, and when the troops halted for the night at the edge of an unusually wide channel, he felt that the task he had undertaken was beyond his powers. he summoned the commanders of the two legions to the hut that had been hastily raised for him. "what think you?" he asked. "this is a warfare even more terrible than that we waged with the goths in their forests. this beric, who is their leader, has indeed profited by the lessons he learned at camalodunum. no roman general could have handled his men better. he is full of resources, and we did not reckon upon his breaking up the ice upon all these channels. if we have had so much trouble in forcing our way where the swamps are but two miles across, and that with a frost to help us, the task will be a terrible one when we get into the heart of the morasses, where they are twenty miles wide. yet we cannot leave them untouched. there would never be peace and quiet as long as these bands, under so enterprising a leader, remained unsubdued. can you think of any other plan by which we may advance with less loss?" the two officers were silent. "the resistance may weaken," one said after a long pause. "we have learnt from the natives that they have not in all much above three thousand fighting men, and they must have lost as heavily as we have." suetonius shook his head. "i marked as we advanced," he said, "that there was not one british corpse to four romans. we shoot at random, while they from their bushes can see us, and even when they charge us our archers can aid but little, seeing that the fighting takes place among the bushes. however, we will press on for a time. the natives behind us must clear the ground as fast as we advance, and every foot gained is gained for good." three times during the night the british attacked the romans, once by passing up the river in their coracles and landing behind them, once by marching out into the country round their left flank, and once by pouring out through cross channels in their boats and landing in front. all night, too, their shouts kept the romans awake in expectation of attack. for four days the fighting continued, and the romans, at the cost of over a thousand men, won their way eight miles farther. by the end of that time they were utterly exhausted with toil and want of sleep; the swamps each day became wider, and the channels larger and deeper. then the roman leaders agreed that no more could be done. twelve miles had been won and cleared, but this was the mere tongue of the fenland, and to add to their difficulties that day the weather had suddenly changed, and in the evening rain set in. it was therefore determined to retreat while the ground was yet hard, and having lighted their fires, and left a party to keep these burning and to deceive the british, the romans drew off and marched away, bearing to the left so as to get out on to the plain, and to leave the ground, encumbered with the sharp stumps of the bushes and its network of channels, behind them as soon as possible. chapter x: betrayed the britons soon discovered that the romans had retreated, but made no movement in pursuit. they knew that the legionaries once in open ground were more than their match, and they were well content with the success they had gained. they had lost in all but four hundred men, while they were certain that the romans had suffered much more heavily, and that there was but little chance of the attack being renewed in the same manner, for if their progress was so slow when they had frost to aid them, what chance would they have when there was scarce a foot of land that could bear their weight? the winter passed, indeed, without any further movement. the britons suffered to some extent from the damps; but as the whole country was undrained, and for the most part covered with forest, they were accustomed to a damp laden atmosphere, and so supported the fogs of the fens far better than they would otherwise have done. in the spring, grain, which had been carefully preserved for the purpose, was sown in many places where the land was above the level of the swamps. a number of large boats had been built during the winter, as beric and aska were convinced that the next attack would be made by water, having learned from the country people to the west that a vast number of flat bottomed boats had been built by the romans. early in the spring fighting again began. a great flotilla of boats descended from huntingdon, and turning off the side channels entered the swamp. but the britons were prepared. they were now well provided with tools, and numbers of trees had been felled across the channels, completely blocking the passage. as soon as the boats left the main river, they were assailed with a storm of javelins from the bushes, and the romans, when they attempted to land, found their movements impeded by the deep swamp in which they often sank up to the waist, while their foes in their swamp pattens traversed them easily, and inflicted heavy losses upon them, driving them back into their boats again. at the points where the channels were obstructed desperate struggles took place. the romans, from their boats, in vain endeavoured, under the storm of missiles from their invisible foes, to remove the obstacles, and as soon as they landed to attempt to do so they were attacked with such fury that they were forced to fall back. several times they found their way of retreat blocked by boats that had come down through side channels, and had to fight their way back with great loss and difficulty. after maintaining the struggle for four days, and suffering a loss even greater than that they had incurred in their first attack, the romans again drew off and ascended the river. the fenmen had joined the iceni in repelling the attack. the portion of the swamp they inhabited was not far away, and they felt that they too were threatened by the roman advance. they had therefore rejoined the iceni, although for some time they had kept themselves aloof from them, owing to quarrels that had arisen because, as they asserted, some of the iceni had entered their district and carried off the birds from their traps. beric had done all in his power to allay this feeling, recompensing them for the losses they declared they had suffered, and bestowing many presents upon them. he and aska often talked the matter over, and agreed that their greatest danger was from the fenmen. "they view us as intruders in their country," aska said, "and doubtless consider that in time we shall become their masters. should they turn against us they could lead the romans direct to our islands, and if these were lost all would be lost." "if you fear that, aska," boduoc, who was present, said, "we had better kill the little wretches at once." "no, no boduoc," beric said. "we have nothing against them at present, and we should be undeserving of the protection of the gods were we to act towards them as the romans act towards us. moreover, such an attempt would only bring about what we fear. some of them, knowing their way as they do through the marshes, would be sure to make their escape, and these would bring the romans down upon us. even did we slay all this tribe here, the fenmen in the north would seek to avenge their kinsmen, and would invite the romans to their aid. no, we must speak the fenmen fair, avoid all cause of quarrel, do all we can to win their goodwill, and show them that they have nothing to fear from us. still, we must always be on guard against treachery. night and day a watch must be set at the mouths of all the channels by which they might penetrate in this direction." another month passed. the romans still remained in their forts round the fens. the natives had now been brought round to the western side, and under the protection of strong bodies of soldiers were occupied in clearing the swamp on that side. they made but little progress, however, for the britons made frequent eruptions among them, and the depth of the morasses in this direction rendered it well nigh impossible for them to advance, and progress could only be made by binding the bush into bundles and forming roads as they went on. from their kinsmen in the northwest, beric learned that a new propraetor had arrived to replace suetonius, for it was reported that the wholesale severity of the latter was greatly disapproved of in rome, so that his successor had come out with orders to pursue a milder policy, and to desist from the work of extirpation that suetonius was carrying on. it was known that at any rate the newcomer had issued a proclamation, saying that rome wished neither to destroy nor enslave the people of britain, and that all fugitives were invited to return to their homes, adding a promise that no molestation should be offered to them, and that an amnesty was granted to all for their share in the late troubles. "what do you think, aska?" beric asked when they heard the news. "it may be true or it may not," aska said. "for myself, after the treatment of boadicea, and the seizure of all her husband's property, i have no faith in roman promises. however, all this is but a rumour. it will be time enough to consider it when they send in a flag of truce and offer us terms of surrender. besides, supposing the proclamation has been rightly reported, the amnesty is promised only for the past troubles. the new general must have heard of the heavy losses we inflicted on the romans as soon as he landed, and had he meant his proclamation to apply to us he would have said so. however, i sincerely trust that it is true, even if we are not included, and are to be hunted down like wild beasts. rome cannot wish to conquer a desert, and you have told me she generally treats the natives of conquered provinces well after all resistance has ceased. it may well be that the romans disapprove of the harshness of suetonius, although the rising was not due to him so much as to the villain decianus. still he was harsh in the extreme, and his massacre of the druids enlisted every briton against him. other measures may now be tried; the ground must be cultivated, or it is useless to rome. there are at present many tribes still unsubdued, and were men like suetonius and decianus to continue to scourge the land by their cruelties, they might provoke another rising as formidable as ours, and bring fresh disaster upon rome. but whether the amnesty applies to us or not, i shall be glad to hear that suetonius has left. we know that three days ago at any rate he was at their camp opposite huntingdon, and he may well wish to strike a blow before he leaves, in order that he may return with the credit of having crushed out the last resistance." two nights later, an hour before daybreak, a man covered with wounds, breathless and exhausted, made his way up to the intrenchment on the principal island. "to arms!" he shouted. "the romans are upon us!" one of the sentries ran with the news to beric's hut. springing from his couch beric sounded his horn, and the band, who were at all times kept to the strength of four hundred, rushed to the line of defences. "what is it? what is your news?" beric asked the messenger. "it is treachery, beric. with two comrades i was on watch at the point where the principal channel hence runs into the river. suddenly we thought we heard the sound of oars on the river above us. we could not be sure. it was a faint confused sound, and we stood at the edge of the bank listening, when suddenly from behind us sprang out a dozen men, and before we had time to draw a sword we were cut down. they hewed at us till they thought us dead, and for a time i knew nothing more. when i came to myself i saw a procession of roman boats turning in at the channel. for a time i was too faint to move; but at last i crawled down a yard or two to the water and had a drink. then my strength gradually returned and i struggled to my feet. "to proceed by land through the marshes at night was impossible, but i found my coracle, which we had hidden under the bushes, and poled up the channel after the romans, who were now some distance ahead. the danger gave me strength, and i gained upon them. when i could hear their oars ahead i turned off by a cross channel so as to strike another leading direct hither. what was my horror when i reached it to see another flotilla of roman boats passing along. then i guessed that not only we but the watchers at all the other channels must have been surprised and killed by the treacherous fenmen. i followed the boats till i reached a spot where i knew there was a track through the marshes to the island. "for hours i struggled on, often losing the path in the darkness and falling into swamps, where i was nearly overwhelmed; but at last i approached the island. the romans were already near. i tried each avenue by which our boats approached, but all were held by them. but at last i made my way through by one of the deepest marshes, where at any other time i would not have set foot, even in broad daylight, and so have arrived in time to warn you." "you have done well. your warning comes not, i fear, in time to save us, but it will enable us at least to die like men, with arms in our hands." parties of men were at once sent down to hold the intrenchments erected to cover the approaches. some of those who knew the swamps best were sent out singly, but they found the romans everywhere. they had formed a complete circle round the island, all the channels being occupied by the boats, while parties had been landed upon planks thrown across the soft ground between the channels to prevent any from passing on foot. "they will not attack until broad daylight," aska said, when all the men who had been sent out had returned with a similar tale. "they must fight under the disadvantage of not knowing the ground, and would fear that in the darkness some of us would slip away." contrary to expectation the next day passed without any movement by the romans, and beric and aska agreed that most likely the greater portion of the boats had gone back to bring up more troops. "they will not risk another defeat," aska said, "and they must be sure that, hemmed in as we are, we shall fight to the last." the practicability of throwing the whole force against the romans at one point, and of so forcing their way through was discussed; but in that case the women and children, over a thousand in number, must be left behind, and the idea was therefore abandoned. another day of suspense passed. during the evening loud shouts were heard in the swamp, and the britons had no doubt that the boats had returned with reinforcements. there were three points where boats could come up to the shore of the island. aska, boduoc, and another chief, each with a hundred men, took their posts in the intrenchments there, while beric, with a hundred of the sarci, remained in the great intrenchment on the summit, in readiness to bear down upon any point where aid was required. soon after daybreak next morning the battle began, the romans advancing in their flat bottomed boats and springing on shore. in spite of a hail of missiles they advanced against the intrenchments; but these were strongly built in imitation of the roman works, having a steep bank of earth surmounted by a solid palisade breast high, and constructed of massive timber. for some hours the conflict raged, fifty of the defenders at each intrenchment thrusting down with their long spears the assailants as they strove to scale the bank, while the other fifty rained arrows and javelins upon them; and whenever they succeeded in getting up to the palisade through the circle of the spears, threw down their bows and opposed them sword in hand. again and again the romans were repulsed with great slaughter, the cries of exultation from the women who lined the upper intrenchment rose loud and shrill. beric divided his force into three bodies. the first was to move down instantly if they saw the defenders of the lower intrenchment hard pressed; the others were to hold their position until summoned by beric to move down and join in the fray. he himself paced round and round the intrenchment, occupied less with the three desperate fights going on below than with the edge of the bushes between those points. he knew that the morasses were so deep that even an active and unarmed man could scarce make his way through them and that only by springing from bush to bush. but he feared that the romans might form paths by throwing down faggots, and so gain the island at some undefended point. until noon he saw nothing to justify his anxiety; everything seemed still in the swamp. but he knew that this silence was deceptive, and the canopy of marsh loving trees completely hid the bushes and undergrowth from his sight. it was just noon when a roman trumpet sounded, and at once at six different points a line of roman soldiers issued from the bushes. beric raised his horn to his lips and blew the signal for retreat. at its sound the defenders of the three lower intrenchments instantly left their posts and dashed at full speed up the hill, gaining it long before the romans, who, as they issued out, formed up in order to repel any attack that might be made upon them. "so they have made paths across the swamp," aska said bitterly, as he joined beric. "they would never have made their way in by fair fighting." "well," beric said, "there is one more struggle, and a stout one, and then we go to join our friends who have gone before us in the happy island in the far west. we need not be ashamed to meet them. they will welcome us as men who have struggled to the last for liberty against the oppressor, and who have nobly upheld the honour of the iceni. we shall meet with a great welcome." not until the romans had landed the whole of the force they had brought up, which beric estimated as exceeding two thousand men, did they advance to the attack, pressing forward against all points of the intrenchment. the iceni were too few for the proper defence of so long a circuit of intrenchments, but the women and boys took their places beside them armed with hatchets, clubs, and knives. the struggle was for a long time uncertain, so desperately did the defenders fight; and it was not until suffering the loss of a third of their number, from the missiles and weapons of the british, that the romans at last broke through the intrenchment. even then the british fought to the last. none thought of asking for quarter, but each died contented if he could kill but one roman. the women flung themselves on the spears of the assailants, preferring death infinitely to falling into the hands of the romans; and soon the only survivors of the britons were a group of some thirty men gathered on a little knoll in the centre of the camp. beric had successfully defended the chief entrance to the camp until the romans burst in at other places, and then, blowing his horn, he had tried to rally his men in the centre for a final stand. aska had already fallen, pierced by a roman javelin; but boduoc and a small body of the sarci had rallied round beric, and had for a time beaten off the assaults of the romans. but soon they were reduced to half their number, and were on the point of being overwhelmed by the crowds surrounding them, when a roman trumpet sounded and their assailants fell back. an officer made his way towards them and addressed beric. "suetonius bids me say that he honours bravery, and that your lives will be spared if you lay down your arms." "tell suetonius that we scorn his mercy," beric said, "and will die as we have lived, free men." the roman bade his men stand to their weapons, and not move until his return. it was a few minutes before he came back again. behind him were a number of soldiers, who had laid aside their arms and provided themselves with billets of wood and long poles. before beric could understand what was intended, he and his companions were struck to the ground by the discharge of the wooden missiles or knocked down by the poles. then the romans threw themselves upon them and bound them hand and foot, the camp was plundered, fire applied to the huts, and the palisades beaten down. then the captives were carried down to the boats, and the romans rowed away through the marshes. they had little to congratulate themselves upon. they had captured the leader of the iceni, had destroyed his stronghold and slain four hundred of his followers, but it had cost them double that number of men, and a large portion of the remainder bore wounds more or less severe. boduoc and the other prisoners were furious at their capture. the britons had no fear whatever of death, but capture was regarded as a disgrace; and that they alone should have been preserved when their comrades had all been killed and the women and children massacred, was to them a terrible misfortune. they considered that they had been captured by an unworthy ruse, for had they known what was intended they would have slain each other, or stabbed themselves, rather than become captives. beric's feelings were more mixed. although he would have preferred death to captivity, his ideas had been much modified by his residence among the romans, and he saw nothing disgraceful in what he could not avoid. he would never have surrendered; would never have voluntarily accepted life; but as he had been taken captive against his will and in fair fight, he saw no disgrace in it. he wondered why he and his companions had been spared. it might be that they were to be put to death publicly, as a warning to their countrymen; but he thought it more likely that suetonius had preserved them to carry them back to rome as a proof that he had, before giving up the command, crushed out the last resistance of the britons to roman rule. as the captives had been distributed among the boats, he had no opportunity of speaking to his companions until, about midnight, the flotilla arrived at godmancastra. then they were laid on the ground together, a guard of six men taking post beside them. boduoc at once broke out in a torrent of execrations against the romans. "they had a right to kill us," he said, "but they had no right to dishonour us. we had a right to die with the others. we fought them fairly, and refused to surrender. it is a shameful tyranny thus to disgrace us by making us captives. i would not have refused death to my most hated foe; but they shall not exult over us long. if they will not give me a weapon with which to put an end to my life, i will starve myself." there was an exclamation of fierce assent from the other captives. "they have not meant to dishonour us, boduoc, but to do us honour," beric said. "the romans do not view these things in the same light that we do. it is because, in their opinion, we are brave men, whom it was an honour to them to subdue, that they have thus taken us. you see they slew all others, even the women and children. we were captured not from pity, not because they wished to inflict disgrace upon us, but simply as trophies of their own valour; just as they would take a standard. we may deem ourselves aggrieved because we have not, like the rest, died fighting to the last, and so departed for the happy island; but it is the will of the gods that we should not make the journey for a time. it is really an honour to us that they have deemed us worthy of the trouble of capture, instead of slaying us. like you, i would rather a thousand times have died; but since the gods have decreed it otherwise, it is for us to show that not even captivity can break our spirit, but that we are able to bear ourselves as brave men who, having done all that men could do against vastly superior force, still preserve their own esteem, and give way neither to unmanly repinings nor to a sullen struggle against fate. "nothing would please the romans better than for us to act like wild beasts caught in a snare, gnashing our teeth vainly when we can no longer strike, and either sulkily protesting against our lot, or seeking to escape the pains of death or servitude by flying from life. let us preserve a front haughty and unabashed. we have inflicted heavy defeats upon rome, and are proud of it. let them see that the chains on our bodies have not bound our spirit, and that, though captives, we still hold ourselves as free men, fearless of what they can do to us. in such a way we shall win at least their respect, and they will say these are men whom we are proud of having overcome." "by the sacred oak, beric, you speak rightly," boduoc exclaimed. "such was the bearing of caractacus, as i have heard, when he fell into their hands, and no one can say that caractacus was dishonoured. no man can control his fate; but, as you say, we may show that we are above fate. what say you, my friends, has beric spoken well?" a murmur of hearty assent came from the other captives, and then the roman sergeant of the guard, uneasy at this animated colloquy among the captives, gruffly ordered silence. beric translated the order. "best sleep, if we can," he added. "we shall be stronger tomorrow." few, however, slept, for all were suffering from wounds more or less severe. the following morning their bonds were unloosed, and their wounds carefully attended to by a leech. then water and food were offered to them, and of these, following beric's example, they partook heartily. an hour later they were placed in the centre of a strong guard, and then fell in with the troops who were formed up to escort suetonius to camalodunum. "what are they going to do to us, think you?" boduoc asked beric. "they are either going to put us to death publicly at camalodunum, as a warning against resistance, or they are going to take us to rome. i think the latter. had suetonius been going to remain here, he might be taking us to public execution; but as he has, as we have heard, been ordered home, he would not, i think, have troubled himself to have made us prisoners simply that his successor might benefit by the example of our execution. it is far more likely, i think, that he will carry us to rome in order to show us as proofs that he has, before leaving britain, succeeded in crushing out all resistance here." "and what will they do with us at rome?" "that i know not, boduoc; possibly they will put us to death there, but that is not their usual custom. suetonius has gained no triumph. a terrible disaster has fallen upon the romans during his command here; and though he may have avenged their defeat, he certainly does not return home in triumph. after a triumph the chief of the captives is always put to death, sacrificed to their gods. but as this will be no triumph, we shall, i should say, be treated as ordinary prisoners of war. some of these are sold as slaves; some are employed on public works. of some they make gladiators--men who fight and kill each other in the arena for the amusement of the people of rome, who gather to see these struggles just as we do when two warriors who have quarrelled decide their differences by combat." "the choice does not appear a pleasing one," boduoc said, "to be a private or public slave, or to be killed for the amusement of the romans." "well, the latter is the shortest way out of it, anyhow, and the one i should choose; but it must be terrible to have to fight with a man with whom one has had no quarrel," beric said. "well, i don't know, beric. if he is a captive like yourself, he must be just as tired of life as you are. so, if he kills you he is doing you a service; if you kill him, you have greatly obliged him. so, looking at it in that way, it does not much matter which way it goes; for if you do him this service one day, someone else may do you a like good turn the next." "i had not looked at it in that way, boduoc," beric said, laughing. "well, there is one thing, i do not suppose the choice will be given us. at any rate i shall be glad to see rome. i have always wished to do so, though i never thought that it would be as a captive. still, it will be something even in this evil that has befallen us to see so great a city with all its wonders. camalodunum was but as a little hamlet beside it." on the evening of the second day after leaving godmancastra they arrived at camalodunum, which in the year that had passed since its destruction, had already been partially rebuilt and settled by gaulish traders from the mainland, roman officials with their families and attendants, officers engaged in the civil service and the army, friends and associates of the procurator, who had been sent out to succeed catus decianus, priests and servants of the temples. suetonius had already sent to inform the new propraetor, petronius turpillianus, of the success which he had gained, and a crowd assembled as the procession was seen approaching, while all eyes were directed upon the little party of british captives who followed the chariot of suetonius. many of the newcomers had as yet scarcely seen a native, so complete had been the destruction of the trinobantes, and they looked with surprise and admiration at these men, towering a full head above their guards, and carrying themselves, in spite of their bonds, with an air of fearless dignity. most of all they were surprised when they learned that the youth--for beric was as yet but eighteen--who walked at their head was the noted chief, who had during the past year inflicted such heavy losses upon the troops of rome, and who had now only been captured by treachery. as yet he lacked some inches of the height of his companions, but he bade fair in another two or three years to rival the tallest among them in strength and vigour. the procession halted before the building which had been erected from the ruins of the old city as a residence for the propraetor. petronius, surrounded by a number of officials, came out to meet suetonius. "i congratulate you on your success, suetonius," he said. "it will make my task all the easier in carrying out my orders to deal mildly with the people." "and it will make my return to rome all the more pleasant, petronius, and i thank you again for having permitted me to continue in command of my troops until i had revenged the losses we have suffered at the hands of these barbarians. it is, of course, for you to decide upon the fate of beric and his companions; assuredly they deserve death, but i should like to take them with me as captives to rome." "i should prefer your doing so, suetonius. i could hardly pardon men who have so withstood us, but, upon the other hand, i should grieve to commence my rule by an act of severity; besides, i hope through them to persuade the others--for, as you told me in your letter, it is but a fraction of these outlaws that you have subdued--to lay down their arms. it is well, indeed, that you have taken their chief, and that he, as i hear, has partly been brought up among us and speaks our language." "yes, he lived here for some five years as a hostage for his tribe. he was under the charge of caius muro, who returned to rome after our defeat of the britons. i made inquiries about him, when i learned that he was chief of the insurgents, and heard that he was tractable and studious when among us, and that caius thought very highly of his intelligence." "they are noble looking men," petronius said, surveying the group of captives; "it is an honour to conquer such men. i will speak with their chief presently." "i shall make no longer delay," suetonius said. "ships have been lying at the port in readiness for my departure for the last two weeks, and i would fain sail tomorrow or next day. glad i shall be to leave this island, where i have had nothing but fighting and hardships since i landed." "and you have done well," petronius said courteously. "it was but half conquered when you landed, it is wholly subdued now. it is for me only to gather the fruit of your victories." "never was there such an obstinate race," suetonius replied angrily. "look at those men, they bear themselves as if they were conquerors instead of conquered." "they are good for something better than to be killed, suetonius; if we could mate all our roman women with these fair giants, what a race we should raise!" "you would admire them less if you saw them pouring down on you shouting like demons," suetonius said sullenly. "perhaps so, suetonius; but i will endeavour to utilize their strength in our service, and not to call it into the field against us. now, let us enter the house. varo," he said to one of his officers, "take charge of the captives until suetonius sails. guard them strongly, but treat them well. place them in the house, where they will not be stared at by the crowd. if their chief will give you his word that they will not attempt to escape, their bonds can be removed; if not, they must remain bound." varo at once called a centurion of the legion in garrison at camalodunum, and bade him bring up his company. these on their arrival surrounded the captives and marched with them to a guardhouse near. when they entered varo said to beric: "the orders of the propraetor are, that you shall all be released from your bonds if you will give your oath that you will not try to escape." beric turned to the others and asked if they were willing to give the promise. "in no case could we escape," he said, "you may be sure we shall be guarded too strictly for that. it were better that we should remain bound by our own promise than by fetters." as they all consented, beric, in their name, took an oath that they would not attempt to escape, so that the ropes that bound their arms were at once taken off, and in a short time a meal was sent to them from the house of petronius. soon after they had finished an officer came in and requested beric to accompany him to the propraetor. "i will bring two of my followers with me," beric said. "i would not say aught to the roman governor that my tribesmen should not hear." the officer assented, and beric with boduoc and another subchief followed him to the house of the propraetor. petronius was seated with suetonius at his side, while a number of officers and officials stood behind him. "how is it, beric," he asked, "that, as i hear, you, who speak our language and have lived for years amongst us, come to be a leader of those who have warred against us?" "it is, perhaps, because i studied roman books, and learned how you value freedom and independence," beric replied, "and how you revolt against tyranny. had rome been conquered by a more powerful nation, every roman would have risen in arms had one tenth of the tyranny been practised against them which catus decianus exercised against us. we have been treated worse than the beasts of the field; our lives, our properties, and the honour of our women were sacrificed at his will. death was a thousand times better than such treatment. i read that rome has elsewhere been a worthy conqueror, respecting the religion of the tribes it subdued, and treating them leniently and well. had we been so treated we should have been, if not contented, patient under our lot, but being men we rose against the infamous treatment to which we were subject; and although we have been conquered and well nigh exterminated, there are britons still remaining, and if such be the treatment to which they are subjected it is not till the last briton is exterminated that you will rule this island." a murmur of surprise at the boldness with which the young captive spoke ran round the circle. "have you inquired since you arrived," beric went on, "of the infamous deeds of decianus? how he seized, without the shadow of excuse, the property of boadicea? and how, when she came here for justice for herself and her insulted daughters, he ordered her to be scourged? should we, a free born people, submit to such an indignity to our queen? i knew from the first that our enterprise was hopeless, and that without order or discipline we must in the end be conquered; but it was better a thousand times to die than to live subject to treatment worse than that which you give to your slaves." "i believe that there is justice in your complaints, beric," petronius said calmly, "and it is to lessen these grievances that rome has sent me hither. vengeance has been fully taken for your rebellion, it is time that the sword was laid aside. i have already issued a proclamation granting an amnesty to all who then rose against us. your case was different, you have still continued in arms and have resisted our power, but i trust that with your capture this will end. you and your companions will go to rome with suetonius; but there are many of your followers still in arms, with these i would treat, not as a conqueror with the conquered, but as a soldier with brave foes. if they will lay down their arms they shall share the amnesty, and be free to return every man to his own land, to dwell there and cultivate it free from all penalty or interruption. their surrender would benefit not only themselves but all the britons. so long as they stand in arms and defy our power we must rule the land with the sword, but when they surrender there will be peace throughout the island, and i trust that the britons in time will come to look upon us as friends." "if rome had so acted before," beric said, "no troubles would have arisen, and she might now be ruling over a contented people instead of over a desert." "there are still many of your tribesmen in the fens?" "there is an army," beric replied. "you have taken one stronghold, and that by surprise, but the lesson will not be lost upon them. there will be no traitors to guide your next expedition; by this time the last fenman in the southern swamps will have been killed. there will be a heavy vengeance taken by my countrymen." "i would fain put a stop to it all," petronius said. "upon what terms, think you, would your countrymen surrender?" "they will not surrender at all," beric said; "there is not a man there but will die rather than yield. but if you will solemnly take oath that those who leave the fens and return to their villages shall live unmolested, save that they shall--when their homes are rebuilt and their herds again grazing around them--pay a tribute such as they are able to bear, they will, i believe, gladly leave the fens and return to their villages, and the fugitives who have fled north will also come back again." "i am ready to take such an oath at the altar," petronius said. "i have come to bring peace to the land. i am ready to do all in my power to bring it about; but how are they to know what i have done?" "i would say, petronius, let us, your captives, be present when you take the oath. release four of my band; choose those most sorely wounded, and who are the least able to support the journey to rome. i will send them with my bracelet to the fens. i will tell them what you have said, and they will testify to having seen you swear before your gods; and i will send my last injunctions to them to return again to their land, to send for the fugitives to return from the north, and to say from me that they will return as free men, not as slaves, and that there is no dishonour in accepting such terms as you offer." "i will do as you say," the roman agreed. "suetonius, you can spare four of your captives, especially as there are assuredly some among them who could ill support the fatigues of the journey. return now to your friends, beric; tomorrow morning you shall meet me at the temple, and there i will take an oath of peace with britain." chapter xi: a prisoner on leaving the propraetor beric further informed his comrades of the offer that petronius had made. "and you think he will keep his oath?" boduoc asked. "i am sure of it," beric said; "he has been sent out by rome to undo the mischief suetonius and decianus have caused. his face is an honest one, and a roman would not lie to his gods any more than we would." "but you ought to have made terms with them, beric," boduoc said. "you ought to have made a condition that you should be allowed to stay. it matters not for us, but you are the chief of all the iceni who are left." "in the first place, boduoc, i was not in a position to make terms, seeing that i am a captive and at their mercy; and in the next place, i would not if i could. think you that the tribesmen would then accept my counsels to leave the fens and return to their homes? they would say that i had purchased my life and freedom from the romans, and had agreed to betray them into their hands." "no one would venture to say that of you, beric." "you may think not, boduoc; but if not now, in the future it would be said that, as before i was brought up among the romans, so now i had gone back to them. no, even if they offered to all of us our liberty, i would say, let those go who will, but i remain a captive. had the message come to us when i was free in the fens i would have accepted it, for i knew that, although we might struggle long, we should be finally overpowered. moreover, the marsh fevers were as deadly as roman swords, and though for a year we have supported them, we should in time, perhaps this year when the summer heats come, have lost our strength and have melted away. thus, had i believed that the romans were sincere in their wish for peace, and that they desired to see the land tilled, i would have accepted their terms, because we were in arms and free, and could still have resisted; but as a captive, and conquered, i scorn to accept mercy from rome." by this time they had arrived at the house where the other captives were guarded, and beric repeated the terms that petronius had offered. "they will not benefit us," he said. "we are the captives of suetonius, and being taken with arms in our hands warring against rome, we must pay the penalty; but, for the sake of our brethren, i rejoice. our land may yet be peopled again by the iceni, and we shall have the consolation that, whatever may befall us, it is partly our valour that has won such terms from rome. there are still fifteen hundred fighting men in the swamps, and twice as many women and children. there may be many more lurking in the fens to the north, for great numbers, especially from our northern districts, must have taken refuge with the brigantes. thus, then, there will, when all have returned, be a goodly number, and it is our defence of the fenlands that has won their freedom for them. we may be captives and slaves, but we are not dishonoured. for months we have held suetonius at bay, and two romans have fallen for every briton; and even at last it was by treachery we were captured. "none of us have begged our lives of rome. we fought to the last, and showed front when we were but twenty against two thousand. it was not our fault that we did not die on the field, and we can hold our heads as high now when we are captives as we did when we were free men. we know not what may be our fate at rome, but whatever it be, it will be a consolation to us to know that our people again wander in the old woods; that our women are spinning by their hearthstones; that the iceni are again a tribe; and that it is we who have won this for them." an enthusiastic assent greeted beric's words. "now," he said, "we must choose the four who shall carry the message. i said those most sorely wounded, but since four are to go they can care little who are chosen. most of us have lost those we love, but there are some whose wives may have been elsewhere when the attack was made. let these stay, and let those who have no ties save that of country go to rome." only two men were found whose families had not been on the island when it was attacked. these and the two most seriously wounded were at once chosen as the messengers. the next morning the whole of the captives were escorted to the temple, which was but a small building in comparison with the great edifice that had been destroyed at the capture of camalodunum. here petronius and all the principal officers and officials were assembled. sacrifice was offered, and then petronius, laying his hand on the altar, declared a solemn peace with the britons, and swore that, so long as they remained peaceable subjects of rome, no man should interfere with them, but all should be free to settle in their villages, to till their land, and to tend their herds free from any molestation whatever. beric translated the words of the oath to the britons. petronius then bade the four men who had been chosen stand forward, and told them to carry his message to their countrymen. "enough blood has been shed on both sides," he said. "it is time for peace. you have proved yourselves worthy and valiant enemies; let us now lay aside the sword and live together in friendship. i sent orders last night for the legions to leave their forts by the fenland and to return hither, so that the way is now open to your own land. we can settle the terms of the tribute hereafter, but it shall not be onerous." after leaving the temple beric gave his messages to the men, and they at once started under an escort for the camp, the officer in charge of them being ordered to provide them with a boat, in which they were to proceed alone to their countrymen. that evening petronius sent for beric, and received him alone. "i am sorry," he said, "that i cannot restore you and your companions to your tribe, but in this i am powerless, as suetonius has captured you, and to him you belong. i have begged him, as a personal favour, to hand you over to me, but he has refused, and placed as we are i can do no more. i have, however, written to friends in rome concerning you, and have said that you have done all in your power to bring about a pacification of the land, and have begged them to represent to nero and the senate that if a report reach this island that you have been put to death, it will undo the work of pacification, and perhaps light up a fresh flame of war." there had, indeed, been an angry dispute between suetonius and his successor. the former, although well pleased to return to rome, was jealous of petronius, and was angry at seeing that he was determined to govern britain upon principles the very reverse of those he himself had adopted. moreover, he regarded the possession of the captives as important, and deemed that their appearance in his train, as proofs that before leaving he had completely stamped out the insurrection, would create a favourable impression, and would go far to restore him to popular opinion. this was, as he had heard from friends in rome, strongly adverse to him, in consequence of the serious disasters and heavy losses which had befallen the roman arms during his propraetorship, and he had therefore refused with some heat to grant the request of petronius. the next morning the captives were mustered, and were marched down to the river and placed on board a ship. there were six vessels lying in readiness, as suetonius was accompanied not only by his own household, but by several officers and officials attached to him personally, and by two hundred soldiers whose time of service had expired, and who were to form his escort to rome. to beric, from his residence in camalodunum, large ships were no novelty, but the britons with him were struck with astonishment at craft so vastly exceeding anything that they had before seen. "could we sail in these ships to rome?" boduoc asked. "you could do so, but it would be a very long and stormy voyage passing through the straits between two mountains which the romans call the pillars of hercules. our voyage will be but a short one. if the wind is favourable we shall reach the coast of gaul in two days, and thence we shall travel on foot." fortunately the weather was fine, and on the third day after setting sail they reached one of the northern ports of gaul. when it was known that suetonius was on board, he was received with much pomp, and was lodged in the house of the roman magistrate. as he had no desire to impress the inhabitants of the place, the captives were left unbound and marched through the streets under a guard of the roman spearmen. gaul had long been completely subdued, but the inhabitants looked at the captives with pitying eyes. when these reached the house in which they were to be confined, the natives brought them presents of food, bribing the roman guards to allow them to deliver them. as the language of the two peoples was almost identical, the gauls had no difficulty in making themselves understood by the captives, and asked many questions relating to the state of affairs in britain. they had heard of the chief, beric, who had for a year successfully opposed the forces of rome, and great was their surprise when they found that the youngest of the party was the noted leader. two days later they started on their long march. inured as the britons were to fatigue, the daily journeys were nothing to them. they found the country flourishing. villages occurred at frequent intervals, and they passed through several large towns with temples, handsome villas, and other roman erections similar to those that they had sacked at the capture of camalodunum. "the people here do not seem to suffer under the roman rule at any rate," boduoc remarked; "they appear to have adopted the roman dress and tongue, but for all that they are slaves." "not slaves, boduoc, though they cannot be said to be free; however, they have become so accustomed to the roman dominion that doubtless they have ceased to fret under it; they are, indeed, to all intents and purposes roman. they furnish large bodies of troops to the roman armies, and rise to positions of command and importance among them. in time, no doubt, unless misfortunes fall upon rome, they will become as one people, and such no doubt in the far distance will be the case with britain. we shall adopt many of the roman customs, and retain many of our own. there is one advantage, you see, in roman dominion--there are no more tribal wars, no more massacres and slaughters, each man possesses his land in peace and quiet." "but what do they do with themselves?" boduoc asked, puzzled. "in such a country as this there can be few wild beasts. if men can neither fight nor hunt, how are they to employ their time? they must become a nation of women." "it would seem so to us, boduoc, for we have had nothing else to employ our thoughts; but when we look at what the romans have done, how great an empire they have formed, how wonderful are their arts, how good their laws, and what learning and wisdom they have stored up, one sees that there are other things to live for; and you see, though the romans have learned all these things, they can still fight. if they once turn so much to the arts of peace as to forget the virtues of war, their empire will fall to pieces more rapidly than it has been built up." boduoc shook his head, "these things are well enough for you, beric, who have lived among the romans and learned many of their ways. give me a life in which a man is a man; when we can live in the open air, hunt the wolf and the bear, meet our enemies face to face, die as men should, and go to the happy island without bothering our brains about such things as the arts and luxuries that the romans put such value on. a bed on the fallen leaves under an oak tree, with the stars shining through the leaves, is better than the finest chamber in rome covered with paintings." "well, boduoc," beric said good temperedly, "we are much more likely to sleep under the stars in rome than in a grand apartment covered with paintings; but though the one may be very nice, as you say, in summer, i could very well put up with the other when the snow lies deep and the north wind is howling." they did not, as beric had hoped, cross the tremendous mountains, over which, as he had read in polybius, hannibal had led his troops against rome. hannibal had been his hero. his dauntless bravery, his wonderful resources, his cheerfulness under hardships, and the manner in which, cut off for years from all assistance from home, he had yet supported the struggle and held rome at bay, had filled him with the greatest admiration, and unconsciously he had made the great carthaginian his model. he was therefore much disappointed when he heard from the conversation of his guards that they were to traverse gaul to massilia, and thence take ship to rome. the roman guards were fond of talking to their young captive. their thoughts were all of rome, from which they had been so long absent, and beric was eager to learn every detail about the imperial city; the days' marches therefore passed pleasantly. at night they were still guarded, but they were otherwise allowed much liberty, and when they stopped for two or three days at a place they were free to wander about as they chose, their great stature, fair hair, and blue eyes exciting more and more surprise as they went farther south, where the natives were much shorter and swarthier than those of northern gaul. one of the young officers with suetonius had taken a great fancy to beric, and frequently invited him to spend the evening with him at their halting places. when they approached massilia he said, "i have some relations in the city, and i will obtain leave for you to stay with me at their house while we remain in the town, which may be for some little time, as we must wait for shipping. my uncle is a magistrate, and a very learned man. he is engaged in writing a book upon the religions of the world, and he seldom remains long at any post. he has very powerful friends in rome, and so is able to get transferred from one post to another. he has been in almost every province of the empire in order to learn from the people themselves their religions and beliefs. i stayed with him for a month here two years since on my way to britain, and he was talking of getting himself transferred there, after he had been among the gauls for a year or two; but his wife was averse to the idea, protesting that she had been dragged nearly all over the world by him, and was determined not to go to its furthest boundaries. but i should think that after the events of the last year he has given up that idea. i know it will give him the greatest possible pleasure to converse with one who can tell him all about the religions and customs of the britons in his own language." massilia was by far the largest city that the britons had entered, and they were greatly surprised at its magnitude, and at the varieties of people who crowded its streets. even boduoc, who professed a profound indifference for everything roman, was stupefied when he saw a negro walking in the train of a roman lady of rank. "is it a human being, think you," he murmured in beric's ear, "or a wild creature they have tamed? he has not hair, but his head is covered with wool like a black sheep." "he is a man," beric replied. "across the sea to the south there are brown men many shades darker than the people here, and beyond these like lands inhabited by black men. look at him showing his teeth and the whites of his eyes. he is as much surprised at our appearance, boduoc, as we are at his. we shall see many like him in rome, for pollio tells me that they are held in high estimation as slaves, being good tempered and obedient." "he is hideous, beric; look at his thick lips. but the creature looks good tempered. i wonder that any woman could have such an one about the house. can they talk?" "oh, yes, they talk. they are men just the same as we are, except for their colour." "but what makes them so black, beric?" "that is unknown; but it is supposed that the heat of the sun, for the country they inhabit is terribly hot, has in time darkened them. you see, as we have gone south, the people have got darker and darker." "but are they born that colour, beric?" "certainly they are." "if a wife of mine bore me a child of that colour," boduoc said, "i would strangle it. and think you that it is the heat of the sun that has curled up their hair so tightly?" "that i cannot say--they are all like that." "well, they are horrible," boduoc said positively. "i did not think that the earth contained such monsters." soon after the captives were lodged in a prison, pollio came to see beric, and told him that he had obtained permission for him to lodge at his uncle's house, he himself being guarantee for his safe custody there; accordingly they at once started together. the house was a large one; for, as pollio had told beric by the way, his uncle was a man of great wealth, and it was a matter of constant complaint on the part of his wife that he did not settle down in rome. passing straight through the atrium, where he was respectfully greeted by the servants and slaves, pollio passed into the tablinum, where his uncle was sitting writing. "this is the guest i told you i should bring, uncle," he said. "he is a great chief, young as he looks, and has given us a world of trouble. he speaks latin perfectly, and you will be able to learn from him all about the britons without troubling yourself and my aunt to make a journey to his country." norbanus was an elderly man, short in figure, with a keen but kindly face. he greeted beric cordially. "welcome, young chief," he said. "i will try to make your stay here comfortable, and i shall be glad indeed to learn from you about your people, of whom, unfortunately, i have had no opportunity hitherto of learning anything, save that when i journeyed up last year to the northwest of gaul, i found a people calling themselves by the same name as you. they told me that they were a kindred race, and that your religion was similar to theirs." "that may well be," beric said. "we are gauls, though it is long since we left that country and settled in britain. it may well be that in some of the wars in the south of the island a tribe, finding themselves overpowered, may have crossed to gaul, with which country we were always in communication until it was conquered by you. we certainly did not come thence, for all our traditions say that the iceni came by ship from a land lying due east from us, and that we were an offshoot of the belgae, whose country lay to the northwest of gaul." "the people i speak of," the magistrate said, "have vast temples constructed of huge stones placed in circles, which appear to me to have, like the great pyramids of egypt, an astronomical signification, for i found that the stones round the sacrificial altars were so placed that the sun at its rising threw its rays upon the stone only upon the longest day of summer." "it is so with our great temples," beric said; "and upon that day sacrifices are offered. what the signification of the stones and their arrangements is i cannot say. these mysteries are known only to the druids, and they are strictly preserved from the knowledge of those outside the priestly rank." "spare him for today, uncle," pollio said laughing. "we are like, i hear, to be a fortnight here before we sail; so you will have abundant time to learn everything that beric can tell you. i will take him up now, with your permission, and introduce him to my aunt and cousins." "you will find them in the garden, pollio. supper will be served in half an hour. tomorrow, beric, we will, after breakfast, renew this conversation that my feather brained young nephew has cut so short." "my aunt lesbia will be greatly surprised when she sees you," pollio laughed as they issued out into the garden. "i did not see her until after i had spoken to my uncle, and i horrified her by telling her that the noted british chief beric, who had defeated our best troops several times with terrible slaughter, was coming here to remain under my charge until we sail for rome. she was shocked, considering that you must be a monster of ferocity; and even my pretty cousins were terrified at the prospect. i had half a mind to get you to attire yourself in roman fashion, but i thought that you would not consent. however, we shall surprise them sufficiently as it is." lesbia was seated with her two daughters on couches placed under the shade of some trees. two or three slave girls stood behind them with fans. a dalmatian bore hound lay on the ground in front of them. another slave girl was singing, accompanying herself on an instrument resembling a small harp, while a negro stood near in readiness to start upon errands, or to fetch anything that his mistress might for the moment fancy. lesbia half rose from her reclining position when she saw pollio approaching, accompanied by a tall figure with hair of a golden colour clustering closely round his head. the britons generally wore their hair flowing over their shoulders; but the iceni had found such inconvenience from this in making their way through the close thickets of the swamps, that many of them--beric among the number--had cut their hair close to the head. with him it was but a recurrence to a former usage, as while living among the romans his hair had been cut short in their fashion. the two girls, who were fifteen and sixteen years old, uttered an exclamation of surprise as beric came near, and lesbia exclaimed angrily: "you have been jesting with us, pollio. you told me that you were going to bring beric the fierce british chief here, and this young giant is but a beardless lad." pollio burst into a fit of laughter, which was increased at the expression of astonishment in lesbia's face when beric said, in excellent latin,--"pollio has not deceived you, lady. my name is beric, i was the chief of the britons, and my followers gave some trouble even to suetonius." "but you are not the beric whom we have heard of as leading the insurgent britons?" "there is no other chief of my name," beric said. "therefore, if you heard aught of good or evil concerning beric the briton, it must relate to me." "this is beric, aunt," pollio said, "and you must not judge him by his looks. i was with suetonius in his battles against him, and i can tell you that we held him in high respect, as we had good cause for doing, considering that in all it cost the lives of some twelve hundred legionaries before we could overcome him, and we took him by treachery rather than force." "but how is it that he speaks our language?" lesbia asked. "i was a hostage for five years among the romans," beric said, "and any knowledge i may have of the art of war was learned from the pages of caesar, polybius, and other roman writers. the romans taught me how to fight them." "and now," pollio broke in, "i must introduce you in proper form. this is my aunt lesbia, as you see; these are my cousins aemilia and ennia. do you know, girls, that these britons, big and strong as they are, are ruled by their women. these take part in their councils, and are queens and chieftainesses, and when it is necessary they will fight as bravely as the men. they are held by them in far higher respect than with us, and i cannot say that they do not deserve it, for they think of other things than attiring themselves and spending their time in visits and pleasure." "you are not complimentary, pollio," aemilia said; "and as to attire, the young romans think as much of it as we do, and that without the same excuse, for we are cut off from public life, and have none save home pursuits. if you treat us as you say the britons treat their women, i doubt not that we should show ourselves as worthy of it." "now i ask you fairly, aemilia, can you fancy yourself encouraging the legionaries in the heat of battle, and seizing spear and shield and rushing down into the thick of the fight as i have seen the british women do?" "no, i cannot imagine that," aemilia said laughing. "i could not bear the weight of a shield and spear, much less use them in battle. but if the british women are as much bigger and stronger than i am, as beric is bigger and stronger than you are, i can imagine their fighting. i wondered how the britons could withstand our troops, but now that i see one of them there is no difficulty in comprehending it, and yet you do not look fierce, beric." "i do not think that i am fierce," beric said smiling; "but even the most peaceful animal will try and defend itself when it is attacked." "have you seen norbanus?" lesbia asked. "he has seen him," pollio replied; "and if it had not been for me he would be with him still, for my uncle wished to engage him at once in a discourse upon the religion and customs of his people; i carried beric away almost forcibly." lesbia sighed impatiently. the interest of her husband in these matters was to her a perpetual source of annoyance. it was owing to this that she so frequently travelled from one province to another, instead of enjoying herself at the court in rome. but although in all other matters norbanus gave way to her wishes, in this he was immovable, and she was forced to pass her life in what she considered exile. she ceased to take any further interest in the conversation, but reclined languidly on her couch, while pollio gave his cousins a description of his life in britain, and beric answered their numerous questions as to his people. their conversation was interrupted by a slave announcing that supper was ready, and lesbia was relieved at finding that beric thoroughly understood roman fashions, and comported himself at table as any other guest would have done. the girls sat down at the meal, although this was contrary to usual custom; but norbanus insisted that his family should take their meals with him, save upon occasions of a set banquet. "it seems wonderful," ennia said to her sister later on, "that we should have been dining with the fierce chief of whom we have heard so much, and that he should be as courteous and pleasant and well mannered as any young roman." "a good deal more pleasant than most of them," aemilia said, "for he puts on no airs, and is just like a merry, good tempered lad, while if a young roman had done but a tithe of the deeds he has he would be insufferable. we must get pollio to take us tomorrow to see the other britons. they must be giants indeed, when beric, who says he is but little more than eighteen years, could take pollio under his arm and walk away with him." in the morning, accordingly, pollio started with his two cousins to the prison, while beric sat down for a long talk with norbanus in his study. beric soon saw that the roman viewed all the matters on which he spoke from the standpoint of a philosopher without prejudices. after listening to all that beric could tell him about the religion of the britons, he said, "it is remarkable that all people appear to think that they have private deities of their own, who interest themselves specially on their behalf, and aid them to fight their battles. i have found no exception to this rule, and the more primitive the people the more obstinate is this belief. in rome at present the learned no longer believe in jupiter and mars and the rest of the deities, though they still attend the state ceremonies at the temples, holding that a state religion is necessary. the lower class still believe, but then they cannot be said to reason. in greece scepticism is universal among the upper class, and the same may now be said of egypt. our roman belief is the more unaccountable since we have simply borrowed the religion of the greeks, the gods and their attributes being the same, with only a change of name; and yet we fancy that these greek gods are the special patrons of rome. "your religion seems to me the most reasonable of any i have studied, and approaches more nearly than any other to the highest speculations of the greek philosophers. you believe in one god, who is invisible and impersonal, who pervades all nature; but having formed so lofty an idea of him, you belittle him by making him a special god of your own country, while if he pervades all nature he must surely be universal. the jews, too, believe in a single god, and in this respect they resemble you in their religion, which is far more reasonable than that of nations who worship a multiplicity of deities; but they too consider that their god confines his attention simply to them, and rules over only the little tract they call their own--a province about a hundred miles long, by thirty or forty wide. from them another religion has sprung. this has made many converts, even in rome, but has made no way whatever among the learned, seeing that it is more strange and extravagant than any other. it has, however, the advantage that the new god is, they believe, universal, and has an equal interest in all people. i have naturally studied the tenets of this new sect, and they are singularly lofty and pure. they teach among other things that all men are equal in the sight of god--a doctrine which naturally gains for them the approval of slaves and the lower people, but, upon the other hand, brings them into disfavour with those in power. "they are a peaceful sect, and would harm no one; but as they preach that fighting is wrong, i fear that they will before long come into collision with the state, for, were their doctrines to spread, there would soon be a lack of soldiers. to me it appears that their views are impracticable on this subject. in other respects they would make good citizens, since their religion prescribes respect to the authorities and fair dealing in all respects with other men. they are, too, distinguished by charity and kindness towards each other. one peculiarity of this new religion is, that although springing up in judaea, it has made less progress among the jews than elsewhere, for these people, who are of all others the most obstinate and intolerant, accused the founder of the religion, one christus, before the roman courts, and he was put to death, in my opinion most unjustly, seeing that there was no crime whatever alleged against him, save that he perverted the religion of the jews, which was in no way a concern of ours, as we are tolerant of the religions of all people." "but suetonius attacked our sacred island and slew the priests on the altars," beric objected. "that is quite true," norbanus said, "but this had nothing whatever to do with the religion, but was simply because the priests stirred up insurrection against us. we have temples in rome to the deities of almost every nation we have subdued, and have suffered without objection the preachers of this new doctrine to make converts. the persecutions that have already begun against the sect are not because they believe in this christus, but because they refuse to perform the duties incumbent upon all roman citizens. two of my slaves belong to the sect. they know well that i care not to what religion they belong, and indeed, for my part, i should be glad to see all my slaves join them, for the moral teaching is high, and these slaves would not steal from me, however good the opportunity. that is more than i can say of the others. doubtless, had i been fixed in rome, the fact that they belonged to these people would have been kept a secret, but in the provinces no one troubles his head about such matters. these are, to my mind, matters of private opinion, and they have leave from me to go on their meeting days to the place where they assemble, for even here there are enough of them to form a gathering. "so long as this is done quietly it is an offence to no one. the matter was discussed the other day among us, for orders against christians came from rome; but when the thing was spoken of i said that, as i believed members of the sect were chiefly slaves, who were not called upon to perform military duties, i could not deem that the order applied to them, and that as these were harmless people, and their religion taught them to discharge their duty in all matters save that of carrying arms, i could not see why they should be interfered with. moreover, did we move in the matter, and did these people remain obstinate in their faith, we might all of us lose some valuable slaves. after that no more was said of the matter. now tell me about your institution of the bards, of which i have heard. these men seem not only to be the depositors of your traditions and the reciters of the deeds of your forefathers, but to hold something of a sacred position intermediate between the druids and the people." for some hours beric and his host conversed on these subjects, beric learning more than he taught, and wondering much at the wide knowledge possessed by norbanus. it was not until dinner was announced that the roman rose. "i thank you much, beric, for what you have told me, and i marvel at the interest that you, who have for the last two years been leading men to battle, evince in these matters. after five minutes of such talk my nephew pollio would begin to weary." "i was fond of learning when i was in the household of caius muro, but my time was chiefly occupied by the study of military works and in military exercises; still i found time to read all the manuscripts in muro's library. but i think i learned more from the talk of cneius nepo, his secretary, who was my instructor, than from the books, for he had travelled much with muro, and had studied greek literature." pollio had returned some time before with his cousins. "i would have come in before to carry you away," he whispered to beric as they proceeded to the dinner table, "but it would have put out my uncle terribly, and as i knew you would have to go through it all i thought it as well that you should finish with it at once." "i am glad you did not," beric replied. "it has been a great pleasure to me to listen to your uncle's conversation, from which i have learned a good deal." pollio glanced up to see if beric was joking. seeing that he spoke in perfect good faith, he said: "truly, beric, you britons are strange fellows. i would rather go through another day's fighting in your swamps than have to listen to uncle for a whole morning." as they sat down he went on: "the girls are delighted with your britons, beric. they declare they are not only the biggest but the handsomest men they ever saw, and i believe that if your lieutenant boduoc had asked either of them to return with him and share his hut in the swamps they would have jumped at the offer." the girls both laughed. "but they are wonderful, beric," aemilia said. "when you told us that you were not yet full grown i thought you were jesting, but i see now that truly these men are bigger even than you are. i wish i had such golden hair as most of them have, and such a white skin. golden hair is fashionable in rome, you know, but it is scarce, except in a few whose mothers were gauls who have married with romans." "it is the nature of man to admire the opposite to himself," norbanus said. "you admire the britons because they are fair, while to them, doubtless, roman women would appear beautiful because their hair and their eyes are dark." "but beric has not said so, father," aemilia said laughing. "i am not accustomed to pay compliments," beric said with a smile, "but assuredly your father is right. i have been accustomed for the last two years to see british maidens only. these are fair and tall, some of them well nigh as tall as i, and as they live a life of active exercise, they are healthy and strong." "that they are," pollio broke in. "i would as soon meet a soldier of the goths as one of these maidens beric speaks of, when her blood is up. i have seen our soldiers shrink from their attack, when, with flashing eyes and hair streaming behind them, they rush down upon us, armed with only stones and billets of wood that they had snatched up. what they may be in their gentler moments i know not, and i should hesitate to pay my court to one, for, if she liked it not, she would make small difficulty in throwing me outside the door of her hut." "you are too quick, pollio," aemilia said. "beric was about to compare us with them." "the comparison is difficult," beric said; "but you must not imagine our women as being always in the mood in which pollio has seen them. they were fighting, not for their lives, but in order to be killed rather than fall into the hands of your soldiers. ordinarily they are gentle and kind. they seemed to pollio to be giantesses, but they bear the same proportion to our height as you do to the height of the roman men." "i meant not to say aught against them," pollio broke in hastily. "i meant but to show my cousins how impossible it was for you to make any comparison between our women and yours. all who know them speak well of the british women, and admire their devotion to their husbands and children, their virtue, and bravery. you might as well compare a libyan lioness with a persian cat as the british women with these little cousins of mine." "but the persian cat has, doubtless, its lovable qualities," beric said smiling. "it is softer and gentler and better mannered than the lioness, though, perhaps, the lion might not think so. but truly your roman ladies are beyond comparison with ours. ours live a life of usefulness, discharging their duties as mistress of the household, intent upon domestic cares, and yet interested as ourselves in all public affairs, and taking a share in their decision. your ladies live a life of luxury. they are shielded from all trouble. they are like delicate plants by the side of strong saplings. no rough air has blown upon them. they are dainty with adornments gathered from the whole world, and nature and art have combined alike to make them beautiful." "all of which means, aemilia," pollio laughed, "that, in beric's opinion, you are pretty to look at, but good for nothing else." "i meant not that," beric said eagerly, "only that the things you are good for are not the things which british women are good for. you have no occasion to be good housewives, because you have slaves who order everything for you. but you excel in many things of which a british woman never so much as heard. there is the same difference that there is between a cultured roman and one of my tribesmen." "human nature is the same everywhere," norbanus said, "fair or dark, great or small. it is modified by climate, by education, by custom, and by civilization, but at bottom it is identical. and now, pollio, i think you had better take beric down to the port, the sight of the trade and shipping will be new to him." chapter xii: a school for gladiators as the vessels carrying suetonius, his suite, and captives sailed up the tiber it was met by a galley bearing the orders of the senate that suetonius was not to traverse the streets with an armed suite and captives in his train, but was to land as a private person; that the soldiers were to march to the barracks on the capitoline, where they would receive their arrears of pay and be disbanded; and that the captives were to be handed over to a centurion, who with his company would be at the landing place to receive them. pollio took the news to beric, who was on board the same ship, the rest of the captives being with the soldiers in the vessel which followed. "i am rejoiced, indeed," he said, "for although i knew that the general would not receive a triumph, i feared that if he made a public entry it was possible there might be a public outcry for your life, which would, by our custom, have been forfeited had there been a triumph. i doubt not that the hand of petronius is in this; his messengers would have arrived here weeks ago, and it may be that letters despatched as much as a month after we left have preceded us. doubtless he would have stated that his clemency had had the desired effect, and that all trouble was at an end; he may probably have added that this was partly due to your influence, and warned them that were you put to death it would have a deplorable effect among your people and might cause a renewal of trouble. suetonius is furious, for he has hoped much from the effect his entry with captives in his train would have produced. he has powerful enemies here; scarce a noble family but has lost a connection during the troubles in britain, and suetonius is of course blamed for it. you and i know that, although he has borne himself harshly towards the britons, the rising was due to catus rather than to him, but as catus is a creature of nero the blame falls upon suetonius." "it was the deeds of catus that caused the explosion," beric said; "but it would have come sooner or later. it was the long grinding tyranny that had well nigh maddened us, that drove caractacus first to take up arms, that raised the western tribes, and made all feel that the roman yoke was intolerable. the news of the massacre of the druids and the overthrow of our altars converted the sullen discontent into a burning desire for revenge, and the insult to boadicea was the signal rather than the cause of the rising. it is to the rule of suetonius that it is due that hundreds of thousands of britons, romans, and their allies have perished." "the fault of suetonius," pollio said, "was that he was too much of a soldier. he thought of military glory, and left all other matters, save the leading of his troops, in the hands of his civilians. petronius is a general, but he has distinguished himself more in civil matters. two generals have been sent out with him, to lead the troops if necessary, but he has been chosen as an administrator." "they should have sent him out ten years ago," beric said, "and there then would have been no occasion for generals." they were now approaching rome, and beric's attention was entirely occupied by the magnificent scene before him, and with the sight of the temples and palaces rising thickly upon the seven hills. massilia had surprised him by its size and splendour, but beside rome it was only a village. "rome would do well," he said to pollio, "to bring the chiefs of every conquered country hither; the sight would do more than twenty legions to convince them of the madness of any efforts to shake off the roman yoke." "i will see you tomorrow," pollio said as they neared the landing place. "i shall see many of my friends today, and get them to interest themselves in your behalf. i will find out for you where caius muro is at present; doubtless he too will do what he can for you, seeing that you lived so long in his charge;" for beric had not mentioned to his friend aught of the manner in which he had saved muro's daughter at the sack of camalodunum. as soon as the centurion came on board pollio recommended beric to his care, saying that he was the chief of the party of british captives, and that during the journey he had formed a close friendship with him. "i shall not be in charge of him long," the centurion said. "i have but to hand him over to the governor of the prison, but i will tell him what you have said to me. he must now go on board the other ship and join his companions, for my orders are that they are not to be landed until after dark." pollio nodded to beric; this was another proof that it was determined the populace should not be excited in favour of suetonius by the passage of the captives through the streets. beric rejoined his companions. "well, boduoc, what think you of rome?" "i have been thinking how mad our enterprise was, beric. you told me about the greatness of rome and from the first predicted failure, but i thought this was because you had been infected by your roman training; i see now that you were right. well, and what do you think is going to be done with us?" "it is evident there is going to be no public display of us, boduoc. suetonius is at present in disgrace, and we shall be either sent into the school for gladiators, or set to work at some of the palaces nero is building." "they may do what they like," boduoc said, "but i will not fight for their amusement. they may train me if they like and send me into the arena, but if they do i will not lift sword, but will bid my opponent slay me at once." there was a murmur of assent from some of the others; but another who said, "well, i would rather die fighting anyway than work as a slave at roman palaces," found a response from several. the next day they were marched up to nero's palace. surprised as they might be by the splendour of the streets they traversed, and by the grandeur and magnificence of the palace, they betrayed no sign whatever of their feelings, but marched through the vast halls with their wealth of marble and adornments with calm and unmoved faces. at last they reached the audience hall, where the emperor was seated with a throng of courtiers behind him. nero was five-and-twenty, but looked older, for his dissolute habits had already left their marks upon his features. he had an air of good temper, and a rough frankness of manner that rendered him popular among the mass of the people, whom he courted by every means in his power, distributing with lavish hand the wealth he gained by confiscation and spoliation of the rich. the britons bowed deeply before him and then stood upright and fearless. "by hercules," the emperor said to the councillor standing next to him, "but these are grand men! no wonder suetonius has had such trouble in subduing them. and this young man is their chief? truly, as petronius said in his letter, he is but a lad. you speak our language too?" he went on, addressing beric. "i was brought up as a hostage among the romans," he replied, "and was instructed in their language and literature." "then you should have known better than to rise against us, young chief." "two years ago i was but a boy, caesar," beric replied, "scarce deemed old enough to fight, much less to give an opinion in the presence of my elders. i was well aware that the struggle must end in our defeat; but when the chiefs of my nation decided for war, i had nought to do but to go with them." "but how is it, then, that you came to command so many, and became in time the leader of so large a band?" "it was because i had studied your military books, and knew that only by an irregular warfare could we hope to prolong our existence. it was no longer an insurrection; we were simply fugitives trying to sell our lives dearly. if suetonius had offered us terms we would gladly have laid down our arms, but as he simply strove to destroy us we had, like animals brought to bay, to fight for our own lives. the moment petronius offered to allow my people to return to their homes and pay tribute to rome i advised them to submit." "so petronius tells me, and he has said much to excuse your conduct. "i would i could enlist this band as my bodyguard," nero said in a low voice, turning to his councillor, "but the praetorian guards are jealous of their privileges, and none save a roman can be enrolled in their ranks." "it would be dangerous, caesar; the praetorians are well affected to your majesty, and in these days when there are so many ambitious generals at the head of armies it would be unwise to anger them." "then we will send them to the schools to be trained. send this lad with the four best of the others to scopus, and divide the rest among three other schools. the romans have never seen such men as these in the arena. we must not spoil it by matching them at present with men whose skill more than makes up for their want of strength. two years in the schools will make marvels of them. the lad will want more than that before he gains his full bulk and strength, but he will some day turn out such a gladiator as rome has never seen; and if after a time we can find no champion to withstand him, we can match him against the lions. i will myself give scopus orders concerning him." so saying he waved his hand. the guards closed round the captives and they were led away. "what is it all about, beric?" boduoc asked. "we are to go to the school for gladiators," beric said; "but as the emperor considers that you will all need two years' training at the exercises before you will be fit to appear in the ring, we shall have time to think matters over. much may happen before that. nero may be liked by the mass of the people, but he is hated and feared, as i hear, by the upper classes. he may be assassinated or overthrown before that." "i don't see that it will make much difference to us," boduoc grumbled. "i don't know that it would. at any rate we have time before us. we shall be well taken care of, well fed, and have plenty of exercise. before now the gladiators have shaken rome to its centre. what has happened once may happen again." as they passed along the streets of rome the news that a party of fair haired giants were being escorted under a guard spread rapidly, and a crowd soon filled the streets. windows opened and ladies looked curiously down at the procession. beric marched at the head of his party, who followed four abreast, and their air of calmness and self possession, their proud bearing, and the massive strength of their figures roused the admiration of the multitude, who, on learning from the guards that the captives were britons, greeted them with shouts of approval. so thick became the crowd before they reached their destination, that the roman soldiers had difficulty in forcing their way through. as they turned into the street in which stood the great school of scopus the crowd at once guessed the destination of the captives. "by all the gods!" one of the lookers on said, "these fellows will furnish us with grand sport in the arena." "it is a shame to turn such grand looking men into gladiators," a woman said. "what, would you like to pick a husband out among them, dame?" the first speaker laughed. "i would not mind. at any rate, i would prefer any of them to such an ill looking scarecrow as you," she retorted. "it is bad enough when they kill off some of those gauls, who are far too good for such work; but the best of them i have seen in the arena lacks six inches, both in height and breadth of shoulder, of these britons." "ah!" the man grumbled, "that is always the way with women; they think of nothing but strength." "why shouldn't we? men think of nothing but beauty." and so, amid a chorus of remarks, for the most part complimentary, the britons strode along, surrounded by their escort, until they reached the entrance to the school of scopus. the master, attracted by the noise in the street, was standing at the entrance. he was a broad built man, but without an ounce of superfluous flesh, with muscles and sinews standing up in knots and ridges, and evidently possessed of extreme activity as well as strength. "nero has sent you five fresh scholars, scopus." "by hercules," scopus said, "they are splendid barbarians! whence come they?" "they are britons." "ah! yes, claudius brought back a few with him, but that was before i was here. i would they were all a few years younger. they are in their prime now; and to make a man first class, one should begin with him young. this youngster here is just the age. i warrant me there will not be many who can hold their own against him when i have trained him." "he is their chief," the centurion said, "and speaks our language as well as you do." "that is good. i can speak a little gaulish; but there is always trouble with newcomers from out of the way countries when we have no one who speaks their language." "well, i will leave them with you; they are in your charge. i have the other fifteen to divide among three other schools." "i will take care of them," scopus said. "there is good feeding and good drinking here, and no one runs away. there is nowhere to run to, that is one thing. still, what could a man want more than to be well housed, well fed, and have the companionship of plenty of good fellows? don't you think so?" and he turned to beric. "it is of no use asking for more if one is not likely to get it; certainly we might do worse." "well, follow me," scopus said. "i will introduce you to your comrades." beric and his companions took a hearty farewell of the others, beric telling them that doubtless they would have frequent occasions of meeting; he then followed scopus into a large hall. here some forty or fifty men were assembled. some were swinging weights round their heads, others were engaged at gymnastic exercises. two men, under the direction of an instructor, were fighting with blunted swords; one great fellow, armed with sword and shield, was hotly pursuing an active man of little over half his weight, carrying a trident in one hand and a net in the other, amid the laughter of a group watching them. at the entrance of scopus and his companions the proceedings were arrested. "here are some fresh hands," scopus said, "who have come to fill up the vacancies made in the games ten days since. they are britons, and i should imagine will require a lot of training before they are fit for the arena. one of them talks latin. the rest, i fancy, will have, for the present, to content themselves with the companionship of you gauls, who are, as i believe, of kindred race, though it seems to me that either you must have fallen off in size, or they have increased since you separated." some seven or eight gauls stepped forward and addressed the britons, and the latter, glad to find men who could speak their language, responded heartily. the gladiators were of many races. besides the gauls there were four or five goths; some iberians, lean swarthy men; numidians, fleet of foot, lithe and active--these were used more often for contests with wild beasts than in the gladiatorial conflicts, for which they lacked strength and weight--parthians and scythians, together with a score of natives of italy, romans and others, who had taken to the profession of gladiator as they might have done to any other calling. "now," scopus said to beric, "you are free of the place; there are no prisoners here. there are regular hours and exercises; but beyond that your time is your own, to walk in the city, to see the shows, or to remain here. as you see, all here dress somewhat after roman fashion, so that as they go abroad they may not be stared at. there is no obligation that way, but it is more comfortable. there are upwards of a hundred schools in rome. some are larger than mine, and some smaller, but there is not one that stands higher. when one of my men enters the ring the audience know that they are going to see good sport." "do we have to fight against each other, or against strangers?" "against strangers," scopus said. "when there is going to be a show day, so many schools are warned to send three or four men, as the case may be, and the master of ceremonies matches them against each other. sometimes there may be ten couples, sometimes forty or fifty, it depends whether it is a great occasion or not; and of course each school hopes to see its champions win. that fellow you saw running with a net, he is a scythian, and so quick and nimble that he always gets away, and is ready for a throw again before his opponent can overtake him. he is a great favourite of the public, for he has been in the arena twelve times and has always conquered." "what do you consider to be the best weapon--the trident or the sword?" "if a man is active without being strong, i should make a retiarius of him," scopus said. "if he is strong without being active, he would naturally fight with sword and buckler. then there is the caestus, but the romans do not care for that, though, to my mind, it is the finest of all the exercises; for that both strength and activity are required, but it is not bloody enough for the romans. perhaps the thing that demands the greatest skill and nerve and strength at the same time is to fight wild beasts. however, we settle none of these things at first. after a few months' training we see what a man's capabilities are, and what he himself has a fancy for. i always let a man choose, if he has any very strong wish in the matter, for he is sure to succeed best in that. there are many who, even with all my care, never turn out first class. these are reserved to fight in what may be called general contests, which have become popular lately, ten against ten, or fifty against fifty. on two or three grand occasions there have been as many as a thousand engaged. for these no particular skill is required; it is one side against the other. lastly, there are a few who turn out so useless that it would be a waste of pains to try to make anything of them. these are sent to the galleys, or to the public works." "you never find any unwilling to learn?" beric said. "not one," the man said carelessly. "a man has to defend himself, and even with blunt swords he will get awkward cracks if he cannot protect his head. besides, in the arena a man's life depends upon his skill, and the conquered is sure to have no mercy shown him unless he has borne himself well. therefore, each man is anxious to learn. i have had a few obstinate fellows, for the most part goths, who would do nothing. i simply send them down to the galleys, and i warrant me that they are not long in finding out what fools they have been, and would give a good deal to exchange their beds of hard boards and their coarse food for a life of pleasure and freedom here." "as long as it lasts," beric said. "yes, as long as it lasts. but with all its dangers it is likely to last as long as that of a galley slave. what with bad food and hardship and toil and the taskmaster's whip and the burning sun, a galley slave's life is a short one; while a skilful gladiator may live for many years, and in time save money enough to set up a school as i have done." "were you a gladiator once?" beric asked. "certainly i was; and so were all the masters of the schools, except, perhaps, a few greeks, whose methods differ from ours. "i was ten years in the arena, and fought thirty-five battles. in thirty i was victorious, in the other five i was defeated; but as i was a favourite, and always made a good fight, the thumbs were turned up, which, as you may know, is the signal for mercy." "are you a roman?" "no, i am a thessalian. i took to it young, having got into trouble at home. we have blood feuds there, and having killed the chief of a house with which my people had a quarrel i had to fly, and so made to pola. thence i crossed to brundusium. i worked there in the dockyard for a year or two; but i was never fond of hard work of that sort, so i came on here and entered a school. now, as you see, i am master of one. a gladiator who distinguishes himself gets many presents, and i did well. the life is not a bad one after all." "it must be hateful having to fight with men with whom you have no quarrel," beric said. "you don't feel that after the first minute or two," scopus laughed. "there is a man standing opposite to you with a sword or a trident, and you know very well that if you do not kill him, he is going to kill you. it makes very little difference, after you once face each other, whether there was any quarrel between him and you beforehand or not; the moment the fighting begins, there is an end of all nonsense of that sort. "what is an enemy? a man who wants to do you harm. this man facing you is going to kill you, unless you kill him. there cannot be a worse enemy than that. after all, it is just the same with soldiers in a battle. they have no particular quarrel with the men facing them; but directly the arrows begin to fly, and a storm of javelins come singing through the air, you think of nothing but of trying to kill the men who are trying to kill you. i thought as you do before i entered the arena the first time, but i never felt so afterwards. all these things are matters of usage, and the gladiator, after his first combat, enters the ring with just the same feeling as a soldier marches to meet an enemy." beric was silent. he had no doubt that there was some truth in what scopus said; his own experience in battle had shown him this. but he was still determined in his mind that, come what would, he would not fight for the amusement of the romans. but it was of no use to say this now; it might be a long time before he was required to enter the arena, and until then he might as well apply himself to gaining strength and science in arms. it did not seem to him that there was any possibility of escape, but he might at least take to the woods, and stand at bay there, and be killed in a fair open fight. the next morning the exercises began. they were at first of a moderate character, and were only intended to strengthen the muscles and add to the endurance. for the first six months they were told that their work would consist only of gymnastic exercises--lifting weights, wielding heavy clubs, climbing ropes, wrestling, and running on foot. their food was simple but plentiful. all adopted the roman costume, in order to avoid observation when they went abroad. being a strong body, and individually formidable, they were free from the rough jokes generally played upon newcomers, and when, after six hours of exercise, they sat down to a hearty dinner, the general feeling among them was that things were better than they expected, and the life of a gladiator, with the exception of his appearances in the arena, was by no means a bad one. pollio called in the afternoon, as he had promised, and had a long talk with beric. "in the first place, i have some bad news for you, beric. caius muro remained here but a month after his return from britain, and was then sent to command the legion in the north of syria." "that is bad news indeed, pollio. i had looked forward to seeing him. i had made sure that i should find one friend at least in rome." "it is unfortunate indeed, beric, for he would have spoken for you, and might have obtained a better lot for you. i hate seeing you here," he said passionately, "but it is better than being executed at once, which is the lot that generally befalls the chief of captives taken in war. scopus is not a bad fellow when things go well, but they say that he is a fiend when his blood is up. he is one of the finest fighters we ever had in the arena, though he left it before i was old enough to go there. i know him well, however, for i used to come here with my elder brother, who was killed four years ago in africa. it is quite the fashion among the young romans to go the round of the schools and see the gladiators practising, and then when the sports come on they bet on the men they consider the most skilful." "a fine sport," beric said sarcastically. "well, you see, beric, we have been bred up to it, and we wager upon it just as you britons do on your fights between cocks. i never felt any hesitation about it before, because i had no particular personal interest in any of the combatants. after all, you know, life is dull in rome for those who take no part in politics, who have no ambition to rise at the court, and who do not care overmuch for luxury. we have none of the hunting with which you harden your muscles and pass your time in britain. therefore it is that the sports of the arena are so popular with our class as well as with that below it. you must remember, too, that the greater portion of the gladiators are captives taken in war, and would have been put to death at once had they not been kept for this." "i do not say they have anything to complain of, pollio, but i am sure that most of them would much rather perish in battle than be killed in the arena." "yes, but it is not a question of being killed in battle, beric; it is a question of being captured in battle and put to death afterwards. it may be the fashion some day or other to treat captives taken in war with generosity and honour, but it certainly is not so at present, either with us or with any other nation that i know of. i don't think that your people differ from the rest, for every soul who fell into their hands was slain." "i quite admit that," beric said; "and should have had no cause for complaint had i been slain as soon as i was captured. but there is something nobler in being killed as a victim of hate by a victorious enemy than to have to fight to the death as a holiday amusement." "i admit that," pollio said, "and though, since nero came to the throne, there has been an increase in these gladiatorial displays, methinks there are fewer now than in the days before the empire, when spartacus led twenty thousand gladiators against rome. there is one thing, if the creed of those jews of whom norbanus was speaking to you ever comes to be the dominant religion, there will be an end to the arena, for so averse are these people to fighting, that when placed in the arena they will not make even an effort to defend themselves. they do not, as do the goths sometimes, lower their swords and fall on the points. suicide they consider wrong, and simply wait calmly like sheep to be killed. i have been talking with some friends over the persecutions of two years ago, just after i left for britain, and they say it was wonderful to see the calmness with which the christians meet death. they say the persecution was given up simply because the people became sick of spectacles in which there was no interest or excitement. well, beric, are you ready to go out with me?" "you will not be ashamed to walk through the streets with a gladiator, pollio?" "ashamed! on the contrary, you must know that gladiators are in fashion at present, beric. the emperor prides himself on his skill, and consorts greatly with gladiators, and has even himself fought in the arena, and therefore it is the thing with all who are about the court to affect the society of gladiators. but as yet you are not one of them although you may have commenced your training for the arena. but fashion or not, it would have made no difference to me, you are my friend whatever evil fortune may have done for you. the only difference is that whereas, had you not been in fashion, i should have taken you with me only to the houses of intimate friends, as i did at massilia, now you will be welcome everywhere. besides, beric, even in rome a chief who has kept suetonius at bay for a year, and who is, moreover, a latin scholar accustomed to roman society, is recognized as being an object of great interest, especially when he is young and good looking. i am glad to see that you have adopted clothes of our fashion; they set you off to much better advantage than does the british garb, besides attracting less attention." "i hope that you are not going to take me today to meet any people, pollio; i want to see the temples and public buildings." "it shall be just as you wish, beric." for hours beric wandered about rome with pollio, so interested in all he saw that he was scarce conscious of the attention he himself attracted. from time to time they met acquaintances of pollio, who introduced them to beric as "my friend the chief of the iceni, who cost us a year's hard work and some twelve hundred men before we captured him. petronius has written so strongly to nero in his favour that his life has been spared, and he has been placed in the school of scopus;" and the languid young romans, looking at beric's height and proportions, no longer wondered at the trouble that the roman legions had had in overcoming the resistance of a mere handful of barbarians. beric on his part was by no means surprised at the appearance of these young courtiers. he had seen many of the same type at camalodunum, and had heard caius lament the effeminacy of the rising generation; but he knew that these scented young nobles could, if necessary, buckle on armour and fight as valiantly as the roughest soldier; though why they should choose to waste their lives at present in idleness, when there was so much work to be done in every corner of the vast empire, was altogether beyond his comprehension. "why is there a crowd gathered round that large building?" he asked pollio. "that is one of the public granaries. corn is brought here in vast quantities from sardinia and sicily, from spain and africa, and since nero came to the throne it is distributed gratis to all who choose to apply for it. no wonder nero is popular among the people; he feeds them and gives them shows--they want nothing more. it is nothing to them, the cruelties he exercises upon the rich." "but it must encourage the people in lazy habits," beric said. pollio shrugged his shoulders. "they think because they are citizens of the capital of the world they have a right to live in idleness, and that others should work for them. at any rate it keeps them in a good temper. there have been great tumults in rome in past times, but by drawing the tribute in corn and distributing it freely here nero keeps them in a high state of contentment." "you don't like nero, pollio?" "i hate him," pollio said. "he is a tyrant--greedy, cruel, and licentious. he had his own mother murdered because she opposed his plans, and some of our best and noblest citizens have been put to death, either because nero was jealous of their popularity, or because he desired to grasp their possessions. it is horrible that rome, which has conquered the world, should lie prostrate at the feet of a creature like this. it was because my father feared that some spy among the slaves might report what i said about nero that caused him to send me out to suetonius, who is a connection of our family, and he will ere long obtain for me some other employment away from the capital. i shall be glad to be gone, the atmosphere here seems to stifle one. nero's spies are everywhere, and a man is afraid of speaking his thoughts even in his own house. i like to take life easily, but i would rather be battling with your people in the swamps than living in idleness in rome." "i thought you were glad to return, pollio?" "i thought i should be, beric, but i suppose the active life in britain has spoilt me. i used to scent my hair and lounge in the baths, and frequent the shows, and lead just such a life as the young men we have spoken to this afternoon, and i was contented with it. i wonder at myself now, but i cannot take up the old life where i left it. i have been back for twenty-four hours, and i am restless already and am longing to be doing something." "i should think," beric said with a smile, "that you might well put up with rome for a few weeks. it seems to me that it will take years to know all its wonders. there are the great libraries, too, filled with the manuscripts, and as you understand greek you could study the writings of the sages and philosophers." "i would rather row in the galleys," pollio said. "i don't mind an hour or two now and then with the historians, but the philosophers are too deep for my shallow brain. would you like to look into a library now?" beric assented eagerly, and they entered one of these buildings. it consisted of a great hall with innumerable couches and benches for readers. round the walls were pigeonholes, in which the manuscripts were deposited, and numerous attendants moved to and fro among the readers, supplying them with such manuscripts as they desired, and taking away those they had done with. leaving the hall they passed through a series of large apartments, in which hundreds of men were at work copying manuscripts. "these are scribes," pollio said. "very many of them are slaves whom the owners allow to work here, sharing with them their earnings; others are freedmen who have either purchased their liberty from their savings, or have been manumitted by their owners. you see many of the most popular writings, such as those of caesar, tacitus, livy, or the poets horace, virgil, and ovid, are constantly in demand, and scores of copies must be kept on hand. then again many of the greek authors are greatly in request. the manuscripts wear out and must be replaced, so that at the various libraries there are some thousands of scribes always kept employed. you see among the scribes men of many nationalities. those men, for instance, are egyptians. you see the rolls they are copying, they are made of papyrus, which is got, as i have heard my uncle say, from the leaf of a sort of water plant. some of them are copying these writings on to vellum for the use of those who understand the egyptian language, others are translating them into latin. those men are persians, and those at the tables near them are jews. they are making translations of their sacred books, which are much read at present, partly owing to the fact that the people are troublesome, and probably an army will have to be sent against them, partly because of the christian sect, whose doctrines are founded upon the jewish sacred books, and are supported, as they claim, by various prognostications of their augurs, or, as they call them, prophets. the books, therefore, are of interest to the learned, and it may be that some who come here to read them are secretly disciples of the sect." "can i come here and read?" beric asked eagerly. "certainly you can, these libraries are open to all. so are the baths, at least the greater portion of them; everything is free here. but it is nearly time for us now to be going home." beric availed himself at once of the advantages offered by the public libraries. it was only thus that men of moderate means could in those days obtain access to books, for the cost of manuscripts was considerable, and libraries were only to be found in the houses of the wealthy. his taste for reading was a matter of astonishment among the gladiators, and was the subject of a good deal of jesting. this, however, was for the most part of a good natured kind, but upon the part of one named lupus it was sneering and offensive. this man, who was a professional gladiator, that is one of those who had taken to it as a trade, was a roman of unusual stature and strength. he had been a worker in iron, and from making arms took to their use. he had won many victories in the arena, and was considered the champion of the school of scopus, the only man who approached him in the number of victories being porus, the scythian, whose strong point, however, lay in his activity and his dexterity in throwing the net rather than in strength. lupus had, from the first day of the britons' arrival at the ludus, viewed them with aversion, his hostility to beric being especially marked, and he particularly objected to the slight deference shown to him by his companions, in spite of the protests of beric himself, who in vain pointed out to them that he was now no longer their chief, and that they were in all respects comrades and equals. lupus had carefully abstained from any remarks that would bring him into collision with the other britons. mortified as he was that his strength and stature, of which he was very proud, had been thrown into the shade by that of the newcomers, he felt that in a quarrel their rough strength might render them more than his match. beric, however, he considered as but a youth, and though doubtless powerful, deemed that his muscles would be no match for his own seasoned strength. as yet he had not seen beric tried with any arms, and thought that the young barbarian could know nothing of the management of weapons. at first his annoyance only took the form of addressing him with an affected deference as "my lord beric;" but the discovery that, while he himself was unable to read or write, the young briton was fond of study, and spent his spare time in the public libraries, afforded him opportunities for constant sneers. these beric took in good part, but boduoc, who had now picked up enough latin to understand the gist of his remarks, one day intervened, and seizing lupus by the shoulder dashed him to the ground. the roman sprang to his feet, caught up a knife from the table, and rushed at boduoc. scopus, however, who was present, with an angry growl sprang upon him, seizing him by the throat with so vigorous a grasp that his face became purple, his eyes stared, and he in vain gasped for breath. then he flung him down into a corner of the room with such force that he lay half stunned. "you dog," he exclaimed, "how dare you take a knife? i will have no quarrels here, as you know; and if you again venture on a disturbance i will bid your comrades tie you up, and will flay the skin off your back with the lash. the briton was perfectly right. why can't you leave his friend alone? i have marked your ill natured jests before, and am glad that he punished you." lupus rose slowly to his feet with an angry glare in his eyes. he knew, however, that scopus had in his time been unrivalled in the arena, and that, moreover, the rest, who had been offended by his airs of superiority, would side with the lanista against him. "i said nothing to the briton," he said; "it was the boy i addressed. if it was an offence, why did he not take it up? is he a coward that others have to fight his battles? if he is offended, why does he not challenge me to fight, as is customary in all the ludi?" "because he is as yet but a pupil, and will not be fit to enter the arena for three or four years," scopus said. "a fight can only be between trained gladiators. you don't suppose that a fresh joined youth is going to fight with one who has won a score of times in the arena?" "excuse me, scopus," beric said quietly, "i am perfectly ready to fight with this braggadocio, and challenge him to a contest; a few hard knocks will do neither of us any harm, therefore let us go into the school and have it out. it is much better so than to have perpetual quarrelling." scopus would have objected, but the gladiators broke into shouts of "a fight! a fight!" and, as it was according to the rules of all the ludi that quarrels should be fought out with wooden swords without interference by the lanistae, he simply shrugged his shoulders. "well, as he has challenged you, lupus, i have nothing to say to it;" and the whole of those present at once adjourned to the school. the combatants were armed with bucklers and with swords of the same weight to those ordinarily used, but with square edges with the corners rounded off, so that though they would give a heavy blow they would not cut. lupus, confident in his skill, and furious at the humiliation he had just suffered, at once sprang upon beric, but the latter as nimbly leaped back, catching the blow on his buckler, and at the same time bringing his own with such force and weight upon the roman's left shoulder that it brought him for a moment on his knee. a shout of astonishment and applause burst from the lookers on. lupus would have instantly renewed the fight, but beric stepped back and lowered his sword. "your left arm is disabled," he said. "you had best wait till you can use your buckler again; it would not be a fair match now." furious as he was, lupus felt the truth of what his opponent said, and though the burst of applause at beric's magnanimity angered him even more than before, he drew back a step or two. at the order of scopus two of the others came forward with some oil, with which for some minutes they kneaded his shoulder. "i am ready again," he said at last, and the gladiators drew back, and the opponents faced each other. lupus had learned that beric was not, as he had supposed, entirely untaught; but although he attributed the blow he had received solely to his own rashness, he renewed the conflict with the same care and prudence he would have shown had he been fighting with edged weapons in the arena. he soon found, however, that he had met with an opponent differing widely from those he had hitherto fought. beric had had excellent teachers among the veteran legionaries at camalodunum, and to skill in the sword he added a prodigious activity. instead of fighting in the ordinary roman method, standing firm, with the body bent forward and the buckler stretched out at the level of the shoulder in front of him, he stood lightly poised on his feet, ready to spring forward or back, and with his shield across his body. in vain lupus tried to get to close quarters. his cramped attitude prevented rapid movement, and he could not get even within striking distance of his opponent save when the latter sprang in to deliver a blow. these, however, fell vainly, for lupus was fighting now calmly and warily, and with sword or shield guarded every blow aimed at him. beric soon felt that he should but exhaust himself did he continue to attack in this fashion, and presently desisted, and standing his ground awaited the attack of lupus. the blows fell fast and heavy now. then beric purposely lowered his buckler a moment; lupus instantly struck, springing a pace forward. beric sharply threw up his left arm, striking up the hand of lupus as it fell, and at the same moment brought his weapon with tremendous force down upon the head of his antagonist, who fell as if killed. "habet, habet!" shouted the gladiators, alike exultant and astonished at the defeat of the bully of the school. "by the gods, beric," scopus said, "you have given him a lesson. i talked abut four years' training, but even now i would send you into the arena without fear. why, there are but one or two gladiators who are considered the superior of lupus with the sword, and he had from the first no chance with you." "it was simply because he did not understand my way of fighting," beric said quietly. "no, scopus, i will have the four years' training before i fight. i have chanced to overcome lupus this time, but i am not going to match myself against men until i have my full strength." scopus laughed. "that looks as if there was strength enough in your arm, beric," he said pointing to the prostrate figure. "however, i know from what you have said that you wish to put off your entry into the arena as long as possible, and doubtless practice and teaching will render you a far better swordsman than you are now. take him away," he said to the others, pointing to lupus. "dash cold water over him till he comes round, and then bandage his head. i doubt if his skull be not broken. one of you had better go for a leech to examine him; and mind, let not a word be breathed outside the school as to this contest. we will keep it silent until it is time for beric to enter the arena, and then we shall be dull indeed if we do not lay bets enough on him to keep us in wine for a year. there is no fear of lupus himself saying a word about it. you may be sure that, roughly shaken as his conceit may be, he will hold his tongue as to the fact that he has found his master in what he was pleased to call a boy. mind, if i ever hear a word spoken outside the school on the subject, i will make it my business to find out who spread the report, and it will be very bad for the man who did it when i bring it home to him." it was upwards of a week before lupus was able to enter the gymnasium again. beric had particularly requested the others to make no allusion to his discomfiture, but from that time the superiority of lupus was gone, and beric's position in the school was fully established. chapter xiii: a christian while beric thus spent his time between his exercises and the schools and one or other of the libraries, varied occasionally by paying a visit with pollio, boduoc and his companions were not ill contented with their life. most of them had, during the long journey through gaul, picked up a few words of latin from their guards, and as it was the language of the gymnasium, and was the only medium by which the men of the various nationalities could communicate with each other, they now rapidly increased their knowledge of it, beric strongly urging them to become acquainted with it as soon as possible, as it might be most useful and important to them. none of the others besides boduoc were, scopus thought, ever likely to be a credit to him in the more serious contests in the ring, but all showed an aptitude for wrestling and boxing, and the lanista was well content with this, as the games in the arena frequently commenced with these comparatively harmless sports, and in many of the provincial cities wrestlers and boxers were in great request. beric was much pleased when he heard from the master that he intended to confine his teaching to these two exercises only with regard to his companions; for although men were sometimes seriously hurt by blows given by the masses of leather and lead, which, wound round the fist, were used to give weight to the blows, a final termination to the contests was rare. in the exercises the men practised with many wrappings of wadding and cotton wound round the caestus, answering the purpose of the modern boxing glove. beric himself was very partial to the exercise, and as it strengthened the muscles, and gave quickness and activity to the limbs, scopus encouraged him in it. "i do not see the use of the caestus," beric said one day. "one could hit and guard much more quickly without it. it is good, no doubt, for exercise, as it strengthens the muscles, but surely for fighting it would be better to lay it aside. what is the advantage of it? with the bare fist one can knock an opponent down, and with a very few blows strike him senseless. what more can you want than that?" "yes, for men like you britons that would do, for a straight blow from any one of you would well nigh break in the bones of the face of an ordinary man, and, as you say, you could strike much more quickly without the weight on your hands, but with smaller men a contest might last for hours without the caestus, and the spectators would get tired of it; but i will try the experiment some day, and put up one of the britons against asthor the gaul, hands against the caestus, and see what comes of it. at present he is more skilful than any of your people, but they are getting on fast, and when one of them is fairly his match in point of skill i will try it. if the briton wins, i will, when they first go into the arena, match them against the champions of the other schools with bare hands against armed ones, and they will get great credit if they win under those conditions. both at that and at wrestling you britons are likely to carry all before you. i should like to train you all only for that." "i wish you would," beric said earnestly. "there is less honour in winning at wrestling and boxing than in the other contests," scopus said. "for that i care nothing whatever, scopus; besides, you would get more credit from my winning in those games than from my being killed in the others. strength and height count for much in them, while against an active retiarius strength goes for very little." "but you are active as well as strong, beric, and so is boduoc. moreover, when caesar sent you to me to be prepared for the ring, he meant that you should take part in the principal contests, and he would be furious if, on some great occasion, when he expected to see you stand up against a famous champion, it turned out that you were only a wrestler." "i am ready and willing to learn all the exercises, scopus--i should like to excel in them all--but you might put me up as a wrestler and boxer; then if nero insisted on my betaking myself to other weapons, i could do so without discredit to you. but my opinion is that every man should do what he can do best. were we to fight with clubs, i think that we need have no fear of any antagonists; but our strength is for the most part thrown away at sword play, at which any active man with but half our strength is our match. you have told me that nero often looks in at your school, and doubtless he will do so when he comes back from greece. you could then tell him that you had found that all the britons were likely to excel rather in wrestling and boxing, where their strength and height came into play, than in the other exercises, and that you therefore were instructing them chiefly in them." "i will see what i can do," scopus said. "i like you britons, you are good tempered, and give me no trouble. i will tell you what i will do, i will send to greece for the best instructor in wrestling i can get hold of, they are better at that than we are, and wrestling has always ranked very high in their sports. most of you already are nearly a match for decius; but you are all worth taking pains about, for there are rich prizes to be won in the provincial arenas, as well as at rome; and in greece, where they do not care for the serious contests, there is high honour paid to the winners in the wrestling games." as time went on beric had little leisure to spend in libraries, for the exercises increased in severity, and as, instead of confining himself, as most of the others did, to one particular branch, he worked at them all, the day was almost entirely given up to exercises of one kind or another. his muscles, and those of his companions, had increased vastly under the training they received. all had been accustomed to active exercise, but under their steady training every ounce of superfluous flesh disappeared, their limbs became more firmly knit, and the muscles showed out through the clear skin in massive ridges. "we should astonish them at home, beric," boduoc said one day. "it is strange that people like the romans, who compared to us are weakly by nature, should have so studied the art of training men in exercises requiring strength. i used to wonder that the roman soldiers could wield such heavy spears and swords. now i quite understand it. we were just as nature made us, they are men built up by art. why, when we began, my arms used to ache in a short time with those heavy clubs, now i feel them no more than if they were willow wands." pollio had remained but two months in rome, and had then gone out with a newly appointed general to syria. beric had missed his light hearted friend much, but he was not sorry to give up the visits with him to the houses of his friends. he felt that in these houses he was regarded as a sort of show, and that the captured british chief, who was acquainted with the latin tongue and with roman manners, was regarded with something of the same curiosity and interest as a tamed tiger might be. besides, however much gladiators might be the fashion in rome, he felt a degradation in the calling, although he quite appreciated the advantage that the training would be to him should he ever return to britain. he was pleased to learn from pollio, on the day before he started, that he had heard that his uncle would ere long return to rome. "i believe," he said, "that it is entirely my aunt's doing. you know how she hates what she calls her exile, and i hear that she has been quietly using all her family influence to obtain his recall and his appointment as a magistrate here. i learn she is likely to succeed, and that my uncle will be one of these fine days astounded at receiving the news that he is appointed a magistrate here. i don't suppose he will ever learn my aunt's share in the matter, and will regard what others would take as a piece of supreme good luck as a cruel blow of fortune. however, if he did discover it, my aunt would maintain stoutly that she did it for the sake of the girls, whom she did not wish to see married to some provincial officer, and condemned, as she had been, to perpetual exile; and as she would have the support of all her relations, and even of my father, who is also convinced that it is the greatest of all earthly happiness for a roman to reside at rome, my uncle for once will have to give in. aemilia, too, will be glad to return to rome, though i know that ennia is of a different opinion. i believe, from what she let drop one day, that she has a leaning towards the new sect, of which she has heard from the old slave who was her nurse. it will be a great misfortune if she has, for it would cause terrible trouble at home, and if any fresh persecution breaks out, she might be involved. i am sure my aunt has no suspicion of it, for if she had the slave would be flogged to death or thrown to the fishes, and ennia's life would be made a burden to her till she consented to abandon the absurd ideas she had taken up." but if norbanus had returned with his family to rome, beric had heard nothing of it. had pollio been at rome he would at once have taken him to see them on their return, but now that he had gone there was no one from whom he would hear of their movements, and norbanus himself would be so much occupied with his new duties, and with the society with which lesbia would fill the house, that he would have no time to inquire about the british captive he had received as his guest at massilia. one evening, when the rest of the gladiators were engaged in a hot discussion as to the merits of some of those who were to appear at the games given in celebration of the funeral obsequies of a wealthy senator, beric asked boduoc to accompany him for a walk. "one gets sick of all that talk about fighting," he said as they went out. "how men can sit indoors in a hot room heavy with the smoke of the lamps, when they can go out on such a lovely night as this, i cannot understand. we do not have such nights as this at home, boduoc." "no," boduoc assented reluctantly, for it was seldom that he would allow anything roman to be superior to what he was accustomed to in britain; "the nights are certainly fine here, and so they need be when it is so hot all day that one can scarcely breathe outside the house. it seems to me that the heat takes all the strength out of my limbs." beric laughed. "it did not seem so, boduoc, when today you threw borthon, who is as heavy and well nigh as strong as yourself, full five yards through the air. let us turn out from these busy streets and get among the hills--not those on which the palaces stand, but away from houses and people." "what a night it would be for wolf hunting!" boduoc said suddenly, when they had walked along for some distance in silence. "yes, that was fine sport, boduoc; and when we slew we knew we were ridding the land of fierce beasts." "well, many of the gladiators are not much better, beric. there is porus, who may be likened to a panther; there is chresimus, who is like a savage bull; gripus, who, when not at work, is for ever trying to stir up strife. truly, i used to think, beric, that i could not slay a man unless he was an enemy, but i scarce feel that now. the captives in war are like ourselves, and i would not, if i could help it, lift sword against them. but many of the men are malefactors, who have been sentenced to death as gladiators rather than to death by the executioner, and who, by the terms of the sentence, must be killed within the course of a year. well, there is no objection to killing these; if you do not do it, someone else will. then there are the romans, these are the roughest and most brutal of all; they are men who have been the bullies of their quarters, who fight for money only, and boast that it is a disappointment to them when, by the vote of the spectators, they have to spare an antagonist they have conquered. it is at least as good a work to kill one of these men as to slay a wolf at home. then there are the patricians, who fight to gain popular applause, and kill as a matter of fashion; for them i have assuredly no pity. "no, i hope i shall never have to stand up against a captive like myself but against all others i can draw my sword without any of the scruples i used to feel. i hear that if one of us can but hold his own for three years, in most cases he is given his liberty. i do not mean that he would be allowed to go home, but he is free from the arena." they were now near the summit of one of the hills, where a clear sweep had been made of all the houses standing there in order that a stately temple should be erected on the site. suddenly they heard a scream in a female voice. "there is some villainy going on, boduoc, let us break in upon the game." they ran at the top of their speed in the direction from which they had heard the cry, and came upon a group of seven or eight men, belonging, as they could see by the light of the moon, to the dregs of the city. a female was lying on the ground, another was clinging to her, and two men with coarse jeers and laughter were dragging her from her hold when the two britons ran up. beric struck one of the men to the ground with a terrible blow, while boduoc seizing the other hurled him through the air, and he fell head foremost among a heap of the masonry of a demolished building. the other men drew their knives, but as beric and his companion turned upon them there was a cry, "they are gladiators," and the whole of them without a moment's hesitation took to their heels. beric then turned towards the females, and as the light of the moon fell full on his face the one with whom the men had been struggling exclaimed, "why, it is surely beric!" beric looked at her in surprise. "it is the lady ennia!" he exclaimed. "why, what are you doing at this time of night in so lonely a place, and without other attendants than this woman?" "it is my nurse," ennia said; "i was on my way with her, beric, to a secret meeting of christians held in an underground room of one of the villas that stood here. i have been there several times before and we have not been molested, but, as i gathered from what the men said, they noticed the light fall upon my necklace and bracelet as i passed by a lamp, and so followed us. happily they overtook us before we reached the place of meeting. had they followed us farther they might have come upon us there, and then much more harm would have been done. they came up and roughly demanded who we were, and bade me hand over my jewels. lycoris answered them, and they struck her down. i threw myself down on her and clung to her, but they would soon have plundered and perhaps killed me had not you arrived." "do not you think, ennia, that it is foolish and wrong of you thus to go out unprotected at night to such a place as this, and, as i suppose, without the knowledge of your father and mother?" "they do not know," she said, "but it is my duty to go. it is the only opportunity i have for hearing the word preached." "i cannot think, ennia, that it is your duty," beric said gravely. "the first duty of a young woman is to obey her parents, and i think that you, being as yet scarce a woman, are not able to judge between one religion and another. i know nothing of the doctrines of this sect save what your father told me; but he said that they were good and pure, and, being so, i am sure that they cannot countenance disobedience to parents." "the words are 'forsake all, and follow me,'" ennia said firmly. "that could not have been said to one of your age, ennia. i was reading the jewish sacred book the other day, and one of the chief commandments is to honour your father and mother. well, i think, at any rate, that it were best not to go there tonight. these men may return, and at any rate i will not allow you thus to wander about at night unprotected. boduoc and i will escort you to your house. when you get there i trust that you will think this over, and that you will see that such midnight excursions are altogether wrong, whatever the motive may be; but at any rate, if you must go, i must obtain your promise that you will write to me at the school of scopus the gladiator, to tell me at what hour you start. i shall not intrude my presence upon you, nor accompany you, for this would be to make myself an accomplice in what i consider your folly; but i shall always be near you, and if you are again disturbed on your way boduoc and i will be at hand to punish those who meddle with you." the old nurse by this time had regained her feet. "you are the nurse of this young lady," beric said to her sternly, "and should know better than to bring her into danger. if norbanus knew what you have done he would have you cut in pieces." "it is not the fault of lycoris. she begged and entreated me not to come, but i would not listen to her. you are angry with me, beric, but you would not be angry if you knew what it was to me. younger than i have died for the faith, and i would die too if it were necessary." beric made no reply, he was indeed deeply vexed at what he considered an act of mad folly. the daughters of norbanus had been very friendly and kind to him at massilia, and he felt a debt of gratitude to their father; and this escapade on the part of ennia, who was as yet scarce sixteen, vexed him exceedingly. he was not sure, indeed, but that he ought to go straight to norbanus and tell him what had happened, yet he feared that in such a case the anger of the magistrate would be so great that ennia would be forced by him into becoming one of the vestal virgins, or be shut up in strict imprisonment. scarce a word was spoken as they passed down the hill and into the streets, now almost deserted. at last ennia stopped at the entrance used by the slaves to her father's house. "will you give me your promise," he asked, "about going out at night again? i implore you, i beseech you do not again leave the house of your father at night unknown to him. you cannot tell the dangers you run by so doing, or the misery you may bring, not only on yourself, but on your parents." "i promise you," ennia said. "i owe you so great a debt of gratitude that even your harsh words do not anger me. i will think over what you have said, and try to do what may seem to me my duty." "that is all i ask," beric said more gently; and then turning walked away with boduoc, who had but faintly understood what was being said, but was surprised at the recognition between beric and this girl, whom he had not particularly noticed when at massilia. "that is pollio's cousin, the younger daughter of the magistrate i stayed with at massilia. it was well for her that it was not pollio who came to her rescue instead of us." "i should say so," boduoc said dryly. "pollio would scarcely be a match for eight cutthroats." "i did not mean that, boduoc. i meant that he would have rated her soundly." "it seemed to me that you were rating her somewhat soundly, beric. i scarce ever heard you speak so harshly before, and i wondered the more as you are neither kith nor kin to her, while by the heartiness with which you scolded her you might have been her own brother." "i did not think whether i had a right to scold her or not, boduoc. i liked both the maiden and her sister, and their father was very kind to me. moreover, after all pollio has done for us, the least i could do was to look after his cousin. but even if i had known nothing whatever of her or her friends, i should have spoken just as i did. the idea of a young girl like that wandering about at night with no one but an old slave to protect her in an unfrequented quarter of rome! it is unheard of." "but what were they doing there, beric?" "they were going to a meeting place of a new religion there is in rome. the people who belong to it are persecuted and obliged to meet in secret. the old woman belongs to it, and has, i suppose, taught ennia. i have heard that the sect is spreading, and that although most of those who adhere to it are slaves, or belong to the poorer class, there are many of good family who have also joined it." "well, i should have thought," boduoc said, "that the romans had no cause to be dissatisfied with their gods. they have given them victory, and dominion, and power, and wealth. what more could they want of them? i could understand that we, whose god did nothing to assist us in our fight against the romans, should seek other gods who might do more for us. but that a roman should have been discontented with his gods is more than i can understand. but what is that sudden flash of light?" "it is a fire, and in these narrow streets, with a brisk wind blowing, it may well spread. there, do you hear the watchmen's trumpets giving the alarm? let us get back quickly, boduoc. it may be that we shall be all turned out to fight the fire if it spreads." they were not far from the school now, and a few minutes' run took them there. the house was quiet, but a few oil lamps burning here and there enabled them to make their way to the broad planks, arranged like a modern guard bed, on which they slept with their three comrades. "is that you, beric?" scopus, who slept in a cubicule leading off the great room, asked. "yes it is; boduoc and i." "you are very late," he growled. "late hours are bad for the health. are you sober?" beric laughed. "no, i need not ask you," scopus went on. "if it had been some of the others who had been out so late, i should have been sure they would have come home as drunk as hogs; but that is not your way." "there is a fire not very far off, scopus, and the wind is blowing strongly." scopus was at once on his feet and came out into the room. "i don't like fires," he said uneasily. "let us go up on the roof and see what it is like." short as the time had been since beric first saw the flash of light the fire had already spread, and a broad sheet of flame was shooting up into the air. "it is down there in the most crowded quarter, and the wind is blowing strongly. it is likely to be a big fire. listen to the din." a chorus of shouts, the shrieks of women, and the tramp of many feet running, mingled with the sounding of the watchmen's horns. "the soldiers will soon be there to keep order," scopus said. "as every household is obliged to keep a bucket in readiness, and there is an abundance of water; they will cope with it. at any rate the wind is not blowing in this direction. it is half a mile away fully." "can we go down and see if we can be of any assistance?" beric asked. "we might help in removing goods from the houses, and in carrying off the aged and sick." "you can if you like, beric. i would not say as much for those who are training hard, for the loss of a night's rest is serious; but as it will be some months before you britons are ready for the arena, it will do you no harm." beric went below, aroused his countrymen, and went with them and boduoc. the streets were alive. men were running in the direction of the fire carrying buckets; women were standing at the doors inquiring of the passersby if they knew what street was on fire, and whether it was likely to spread. the sound of military trumpets calling the soldiers to arms rose in various parts of the city, and mingled with the hoarse sound of the watchmen's horns. as they approached the fire the crowd became thicker. beric admired the coolness shown and the order that already reigned. the prefect of the 7th cohort of the night guard, always on duty to guard the streets from thieves or fire, was already on the spot, and under his directions, and those of several inferior officials, the men, as fast as they arrived, were set to pass buckets along from the fountains and conduits. "who are you?" the magistrate asked, as the five tall figures came up the street in the light of the fire. "we belong to the school of scopus," beric said. "we have come down to see if we can be of assistance. we are strong, and can move goods from houses threatened, or carry off the sick should there be any; or we can throw water on the flames." "the soldiers will do that," the magistrate said, "that is their business; but, as you say, you may be of use in helping clear the houses outside their lines. the flames are spreading. come with me, i will take you to the centurion commanding a company of the night guard here, for if he saw you coming out of the house with goods he might take you for plunderers." the centurion, who was hard at work with his men, nodded an assent. "it were well to get some more stout fellows like these," he said to the magistrate. "in spite of our efforts the fire is making headway, and the sooner the houses in its path are stripped the better." a strong body of volunteers for the work was soon organized, and an official placed in charge of it. all night they worked without intermission, beric and his comrades keeping together and astonishing those who were working with them by the strength and activity they displayed. but fast as they worked the flames advanced faster. they were half suffocated by smoke, and the sparks fell thickly round them. the workers carried the goods out of the houses into the street, where other parties conveyed them to open spaces. lines of men down all the streets leading to the scene of the fire passed along buckets of water. these the soldiers carried up on to the roofs, which they deluged, while others wetted the hangings and furniture that had not been removed. parties of troops strove to pull down the houses in the path of the flames, while others again marched up and down preserving order. the night guard entered the houses, compelled all to leave, and saw that none were left behind; while sentries kept guard over the goods piled high in the open spaces. when morning broke, beric gave up the work to a fresh party and returned with his companions to the school. they found it deserted, save by the slaves, the others having, as they learned, gone to the fire an hour before with scopus. "we will have a bath to get rid of the dust and sweat," beric said. "but first we will go up to the roof and have a look at the fire. we had no time when we were working to think much of it; but as we were always being driven back by it, it must have spread a good deal." an exclamation of surprise broke from them when they gained the roof. smoke and flames were rising over a large area. a dense canopy overhung the town, a confused din filled the air, while momentarily deep heavy sounds told of falling roofs and walls. "this is terrible, boduoc." "why terrible, beric? for my part i should like to see rome utterly destroyed, as she has destroyed so many other towns." "the romans would build it up again more magnificent than before, boduoc. no, it would be a misfortune to the world if rome were destroyed; but there is little chance of that. they have had many fires before now; this is a large one certainly, but by this time all the troops in the city must be there, and if the wind drops they will soon arrest the progress of the flames." the other britons quite agreed with boduoc, and though ready to work their hardest to aid in saving the property of individuals, they looked on with undisguised satisfaction at the great conflagration. on such a point as this beric knew that it would be useless to argue with them. "you had better come down from the roof, boduoc. there are others watching the fire besides ourselves; and if it were reported that some of the gladiators from the school were seen making exulting gestures, there would be a popular tumult, and it is likely as not we should be charged with being the authors of the fire. let us go down, get some food, and then have a bath and sleep for a while. there is little chance of the fire being checked at present. at any rate, we have done our share of work." after a few hours' sleep beric again went up to the roof. the fire had made great progress, and, as he could see, was not only travelling with the wind, but working up against it. it was already much nearer to the school than it had been. as to the width of the area of the conflagration the smoke prevented him from forming any opinion; but he judged that the length was fully a mile. it was evident that the progress of the fire was causing great dismay. groups were gathered on the housetops everywhere, while the streets were crowded with fugitives laden with household goods, making their way towards the thinly populated portions of the hills. after eating some bread and fruit, beric again sallied out with his four companions. on their way down they met scopus with several of the gladiators returning. "what is being done, scopus?" "as far as stopping the fire nothing is being done. it has been given up. what can be done when the fire is sweeping along a mile broad, and the heat is so great that there is no standing within a hundred yards of it? all the soldiers are there, and the magistrates and the guards, and all the rest of them, but all that can be done is to prevent the scum of the city from sacking and plundering. scores of men have been scourged and some beheaded, but it is no easy matter to keep down the mob. there are parties of guards in every street. the whole of the praetorians are under arms, but the terror and confusion is so great and spread over so wide a space that it is well nigh impossible to preserve order. proclamations have just been issued by the senate calling upon all citizens to gather at their places of assembly in arms, enjoining them to preserve order, and authorizing the slaying of all robbers caught in the act of plundering. all persons within a certain distance of the fire are recommended to send their wives and families, with their jewels and all portable wealth, to the public gardens, where strong guards of the praetorians will be posted." "it seems to me that the fire is advancing in this direction, also, scopus." "it is spreading everywhere," scopus said gloomily. "the heat seems to draw the air in from all directions, and the flames surge sometimes one way and sometimes another. you had better not go far away, beric; if the flames crawl up much nearer we shall have to prepare for a move. we have no jewels to lose, nor is the furniture of much value, but the arms and armour, our apparatus, clothes, and other things must be carried off." the scene as beric went forward was pitiful in the extreme. weeping women carrying heavy burdens and with their children clinging to their dress came along. some searched up and down frantically for members of the family who had been lost in the crowd. old men and women were being helped along by their relations. the sick were being borne past upon doors or the tops of tables. among the fugitives were groups of men from the poorest districts by the river, who were only restrained from snatching at the ornaments and caskets of the women by the presence of the soldiers, standing at short intervals along the street and at the doors of the principal houses. in spite of the vigilance of the guard, however, such thefts occasionally took place, and the screams that from time to time rose in the side streets told of the work of plunder going on there. "i should like to turn down here and give a lesson to some of these villains," boduoc said. "i should like nothing better, boduoc, but it would not do to get into a fray at present. it would only bring up the guard, and they would not be likely to ask many questions as to who was in fault, but would probably assume at once that we, being gladiators, were there for the purpose of robbery, and that the row had arisen over the division of spoil. look, there is a centurion taking a party of men down the street where we heard those screams. let us move back a few paces and see what is going to happen. yes, there is another party of soldiers coming in at the other end. the women are running out of the houses to tell their grievances." small parties of soldiers entered the houses. shouts and yells could be heard even above the surrounding din. men jumped from windows or ran out into the street only to be cut down by the troops there, and so each body of soldiers continued to advance until they met in the centre of the street, and then, after a few words between the officers, each party returned by the way it had come. they had done their work, and the street had been completely cleared of the plunderers. "you see, boduoc, had we run down there when we heard the cries it would have gone hard with us. the troops certainly spent no time in questioning; the women might have told them, perhaps, that we had come to their assistance; still it is just as well that we keep clear of the matter." beric's party skirted along the fire for some distance. at some points to windward of the flames efforts were still being made to prevent their spread, large numbers of men being employed in pulling down houses under the supervision of the fire guard. bodies of troops guarded the entrances to all the streets, and kept back the crowd of sightseers, who had assembled from all parts of the city. fearing that they might be impressed for the work of demolition, the britons returned to the school. the familia, as the members of any school of this kind were called, were all assembled. scopus was walking moodily up and down the gymnasium, but it was evident by the countenances of most of the men that they felt a deep satisfaction at the misfortune that had befallen rome. from time to time scopus ascended to the roof, or sent one of the men out to gather news, but it was always to the same effect, the fire was still spreading, and assuming every hour more serious proportions. towards evening the flames had approached so closely, that scopus gave orders for the men to take up the bundles that had already been made up, containing everything of any value in the school. "you had better not wait any longer," he said; "at any moment there may be orders for all schools to go down to help the troops, and then we should lose everything." accordingly the heavy packets were lifted by the men on to their heads or shoulders, and they started for the palatine, which was the nearest hill. here were many of the houses of the wealthy, and the owners of most of these had already thrown open their gardens for the use of the fugitives. in one of these the gladiators deposited their goods. two of the party having been left to guard them the rest went out to view the fire. there was little sleep in rome that night. it was now evident to all that this was no local conflagration, but that, if the wind continued to blow, it threatened the entire destruction of a considerable portion of the town. every space and vantage ground from which a view of the fire could be obtained was crowded with spectators. "there were great fires when we destroyed camalodunum, verulamium, and london," boduoc said, "but this is already larger than any of those, and it is ever spreading; even at this distance we can hear the roar of the flames, the crash of the falling houses, and the shouts of the workers." "it is a terrible sight, indeed, boduoc. it looks like a sea of fire. so far the part involved is one of the oldest and poorest in the city, but if it goes on like this the better quarters will soon be threatened. if we get no special orders tomorrow, we will go down to the house of norbanus and give what help we can in the removal of his goods. his library is a very valuable one, and its loss would be a terrible blow to him. i remember that at camalodunum there was nothing i regretted so much as the destruction of the books." "it is all a matter of taste," boduoc said. "i would rather have a good suit of armour and arms than all the books in rome. why some people should worry their brains to make those little black marks on paper, and others should trouble to make out what they mean, is more than i can understand. however, we shall be glad to help you to carry off the goods of norbanus." chapter xiv: rome in flames all night the gladiators watched the ever widening area of fire. in the morning proclamations were found posted in every street, ordering all citizens to be under arms, as if expecting the attack of an enemy; each district was to be patrolled regularly, and all evildoers found attempting to plunder were to be instantly put to death, the laws being suspended in face of the common danger. all persons not enrolled in the lists of the city guards were exhorted to lend their aid in transporting goods from the neighbourhood of the fire to a place of safety in the public gardens, and the masters of the schools of gladiators were enjoined to see that their scholars gave their aid in this work. "well, we may as well set to work," scopus said. "there are some of my patrons to whom we may do a good service." "will you let me go with my comrades first to aid norbanus, a magistrate who has done me service?" beric said. "after i have helped to move his things i will join you wherever you may appoint." scopus nodded. "very well, beric. i shall go first to the house of gallus the praetor, he is one of my best friends. after we are done there we will go to the aid of lysimachus the senator; so, if you don't find us at the house of gallus, you will find us there." beric at once started with the four britons to the house where he had left ennia. it was distant but half a mile from the point the fire had now reached, and from many of the houses round the slaves were already bearing goods. here, however, all was quiet. the door keeper, knowing beric, permitted him and his companions to enter without question. norbanus was already in his study. he looked up as beric approached him. "why, it is beric!" he said in surprise. "i heard that you were in one of the ludi and was coming to see you, but i have been full of business since i came here. i am glad that you have come to visit me." "it is not a visit of ceremony," beric said; "it is the fire that has brought me here." "lesbia tells me that it is still blazing," norbanus said indifferently. "she has been worrying about it all night. i tell her i am not praetor of the fire guard, and that it does not come within my scope of duty. i went down yesterday afternoon, but the soldiers and citizens are all doing their work under their officers, and doubtless it will soon be extinguished." "it is ever growing, norbanus. it is within half a mile of your house now, and travelling fast." "why, it was treble that distance last night," norbanus said in surprise. "think you that there is really danger of its coming this way?" "unless a change takes place," beric said, "it will assuredly be here by noon; even now sparks and burning flakes are falling in the street. the neighbours are already moving, and i would urge you to lose not a moment's time, but summon your slaves, choose all your most valuable goods, and have them carried up to a place of safety. if you come up to the roof you will see for yourself how pressing is the danger." norbanus, still incredulous, ascended the stairs, but directly he looked round he saw that beric had not exaggerated the state of things. "i have brought four of my tribesmen with me," beric said, "and we are all capable of carrying good loads. there ought to be time to make three journeys at least up to the gardens on the hill, where they will be safe. i should say, let half your slaves aid us in carrying up your library and the valuables that come at once to hand, and then you can direct the others to pack up the goods you prize most so that they shall be ready by our return." "that shall be done," norbanus said, "and i am thankful to you, beric, for your aid." descending, norbanus at once gave the orders, and then going up to the women's apartments told lesbia to bid the female slaves pack at once all the dresses, ornaments, and valuables. the cases containing the books were then brought out into the atrium, and there stacked in five piles. they were then bound together with sacking and cords. "but what are you going to do with these great piles?" norbanus said as he came down from above, where lesbia was raging at the news that much of their belongings would have to be abandoned. "why, each of them is a wagon load." "they are large to look at, but not heavy. at any rate we can carry them. is there anyone to whom we shall specially take them, or shall we place a guard over them?" "my cousin lucius, the senator, will, i am sure, take them for me. his house is surrounded by gardens, and quite beyond reach of fire. his wife is lesbia's sister, and aemilia shall go up with you." the britons helped each other up with the huge packets, four slaves with difficulty raising the last and placing it on beric's head. "the weight is nothing now it is up," he said, "though i wish it were a solid packet instead of being composed of so many of these book boxes." the cases in which the romans usually kept their books were about the size and shape of hat boxes, but of far stronger make, and each holding from six to ten rolls of vellum. a dozen slaves under the superintendence of the steward, and carrying valuable articles of furniture, followed the britons, and behind them came aemilia, with four or five female slaves carrying on their heads great packages of the ladies' clothing. the house of lucius was but half a mile away from that of norbanus. even among the crowd of frightened men and women hurrying up the hill the sight of the five britons, with their prodigious burdens created lively astonishment and admiration. "twenty such men as those," one said, "would carry off a senator's villa bodily, if there was room for it in the road." "they are the titans come to life again," another remarked. "it would take six romans to carry the weight that one of them bears." when they neared the villa of lucius, aemilia hurried on ahead with the female slaves, and was standing at the door with the senator when the britons approached. the senator uttered an exclamation of astonishment. "whence have you got these wonderful porters, aemilia?" "i know not," the girl said. "we were dressing, when our father called out that we were to hurry and to put our best garments together, for that we were to depart instantly, as the fire was approaching. for a few minutes there was terrible confusion. the slaves were packing up our things, all talking together, and in an extreme terror. our mother was terribly upset, and i think she made things worse by giving fresh orders every minute. in the middle of it my father shouted to me to come down at once, and the slaves were to bring down such things as were ready. when i got down i was astonished at seeing these great men quite hidden under the burdens they carried, but i had no time to ask questions. my father said, 'go with them to my cousin lucius, and ask him to take in our goods,' and i came." by this time the party had reached the house. "follow me," lucius said, leading the way along the front of the house, and round to the storehouses in its rear. aemilia accompanied him. the slaves deposited their burdens on the ground, and then aided the britons to lower theirs. aemilia gave an exclamation of astonishment as beric turned round. "why, it is beric the briton!" she exclaimed. "you did not recognize me, then?" beric said smiling. "i should have done so had i looked at you closely," she said, "in spite of your roman garb; but what with the crowd, and the smoke, and the fright, i did not think anything about it after my first wonder at seeing you so loaded. where did you come from so suddenly to our aid? are these your countrymen? ennia and i have asked our father almost every day since we came to rome to go and find you, and bring you to us. he always said he would, but what with his business and his books he was never able to. how good of you to come to our aid! i am sure the books would never have been saved if it had not been for you, and father would never have got over their loss." "i knew where your house was," beric said, "and was glad to be able to do something in gratitude for your father's kindness at massilia. but i must not lose a moment talking; i hope to make two or three more trips before the fire reaches your house. your slaves have orders to return with us. will you tell your steward to guide us back by a less frequented road than that we came by, and then we can keep together and shall not lose time forcing our way through the crowd." by the time they reached the house of norbanus the slaves left behind had packed up everything of value. "i will go up," norbanus said, "with all the slaves, male and female, if you will remain here to guard the rest of the things till we return. several parties of ill favoured looking men have entered by the door, evidently in the hopes of plunder, but left when they saw we were still here. the ladies' apartments have been completely stripped, and their belongings will go up this time, so that there will be no occasion for them to return. if the flames approach too closely before we come back, do not stay, beric, nor trouble about the goods that remain. i have saved my library and my own manuscripts, which is all i care for. my wife and daughters have saved all their dresses and jewels. all the most valuable of my goods will now be carried up by my slaves, and if the rest is lost it will be no great matter." beric and his companions seated themselves on the carved benches of the atrium and waited quietly. parties of marauders once or twice entered, for the area of the fire was now so vast that even the troops and armed citizens were unable properly to guard the whole neighbourhood beyond its limits; but upon seeing these five formidable figures they hastily retired, to look for booty where it could be obtained at less risk. the fire was but a few hundred yards away, and clouds of sparks and blazing fragments were falling round the house when norbanus and his slaves returned. these were sufficient to carry up the remaining parcels of goods without assistance from the britons, who, however, acted as an escort to them on their way back. their throats were dry and parched by the hot air, and they were glad of a long draught of the good wine that lucius had in readiness for their arrival. beric at first refused other refreshment, being anxious to hasten away to join scopus, but the senator insisted upon their sitting down to a meal. "you do not know when you may eat another," he said; "there will be little food cooked in this part of rome today." as beric saw it was indeed improbable that they would obtain other food if they neglected this opportunity, he and the others sat down and ate a good, though hasty, meal. "you will come and see us directly the fire is over," norbanus said as they rose to leave. "remember, i shall not know where to find you, and i have had no time to thank you worthily for the service that you have rendered me. many of the volumes you have saved were unique, and although my own manuscripts may be of little value to the world, they represent the labour of many years." hurrying down to the rendezvous scopus had given him, beric found that both villas had already been swept away by the fire. he then went up to the spot where their goods were deposited, but the two gladiators in charge said that they had seen nothing whatever of scopus. "then we will go down and do what we can," beric said. "should scopus return, tell him that we will be here at nightfall." for another two days the conflagration raged, spreading wider and wider, and when at last the wind dropped and the fury of the flames abated, more than the half of rome lay in ashes. of the fourteen districts of the city three were absolutely destroyed, and in seven others scarce a house had escaped. nero, who had been absent, reached rome on the third day of the fire. the accusation that he had caused it to be lighted, brought against him by his enemies years afterwards, was absurd. there had been occasional fires in rome for centuries, just as there had been in london before the one that destroyed it, and the strong wind that was blowing was responsible for the magnitude of the fire. there can, however, be little doubt that the misfortune which appeared so terrible to the citizens was regarded by nero in a different light. nero was prouder of being an artist than of being an emperor. up to this time rome, although embellished with innumerable temples and palaces, was yet the rome of the tarquins. the streets were narrow, and the houses huddled together. mean cottages stood next to palaces. there was an absence of anything like a general plan. rome had spread as its population had increased, but it was a collection of houses rather than a capital city. nero saw at once how vast was the opportunity. in place of the rambling tortuous streets and crowded rookeries, a city should rise stately, regular, and well ordered, with broad streets and noble thoroughfares, while in its midst should be a palace unequalled in the world, surrounded by gardens, lakes, and parks. there was ample room on the seven hills, and across the tiber, for all the population, with breathing space for everyone. what glory would there not be to him who thus transformed rome, and made it a worthy capital of the world! first, however, the people must be attended to and kept in good humour, and accordingly orders were at once issued that the gardens of the emperor's palaces should be thrown open, and the fugitives allowed to encamp there. such magazines as had escaped the fire were thrown open, and food distributed to all, while ships were sent at once to sicily and sardinia for large supplies of grain for the multitude. while the ruins were still smoking the emperor was engaged with the best architects in rome in drawing out plans for laying out the new city on a superb scale, and in making preparations for the commencement of work. the claims of owners of ground were at once wiped out by an edict saying, that for the public advantage it was necessary that the whole of the ground should be treated as public property, but that on claims being sent in other sites would be given elsewhere. summonses were sent to every town and district of the countries under the roman sway calling for contributions towards the rebuilding of the capital. so heavy was the drain, and so continuous the exactions to raise the enormous sums required to pay for the rebuilding of the city and the superb palaces for the emperor, that the wealth of the known world scarce sufficed for it, and the roman empire was for many years impoverished by the tremendous drain upon its resources. the great mass of the roman population benefited by the fire. there was work for everyone, from the roughest labourer to the most skilled artisan and artist. crowds of workmen were brought from all parts. greece sent her most skilful architects and decorators, her sculptors and painters. money was abundant, and rome rose again from her ruins with a rapidity which was astonishing. the people were housed far better than they had ever been before; the rich had now space and convenience for the construction of their houses, and although most of them had lost the greater portion of their valuables in the fire, they were yet gainers by it. all shared in the pride excited by the new city, with its broad streets and magnificent buildings, and the groans of the provincials, at whose cost it was raised, troubled them not at all. it was true that nero, in his need for money, seized many of the wealthier citizens, and, upon one pretext or other, put them to death and confiscated their property; but this mattered little to the crowd, and disturbed none save those whose wealth exposed them to the risk of the same fate. beric saw nothing of these things, for upon the very day after the fire died out scopus started with his scholars to a villa on the alban hills that had been placed at his disposal by one of his patrons. there were several other schools in the neighbourhood, as the air of the hills was considered to be far healthier and more strengthening than that of rome. in spite of the public calamity nero continued to give games for the amusement of the populace, other rich men followed his example, and the sports of the amphitheatre were carried on on an even more extensive scale than before. scopus took six of his best pupils to the first games that were given after the fire. four of them returned victorious, two were sorely wounded and defeated. their lives had, however, been spared, partly on account of their skill and bravery, partly because the emperor was in an excellent humour, and the mass of the spectators, on whom the decision of life or death rested, saw that the signal for mercy would be acceptable to him. the britons greatly preferred their life on the alban hills to that in rome; for, their exercises done, they could wander about without being stared at and commented upon. the pure air of the hills was invigorating after that of the great city; and here, too, they met ten of their comrades whose ludi had been all along established on the hills. plans of escape were sometimes talked over, but though they could not resist the pleasure of discussing them, they all knew that it was hopeless. though altogether unwatched and free to do as they liked after the work of the day was over, they were as much prisoners as if immured in the strongest dungeons. the arm of rome stretched everywhere; they would be at once followed and hunted down wherever they went. their height and complexion rendered disguise impossible, and even if they reached the mountains of calabria, or traversed the length of italy successfully and reached the alps--an almost hopeless prospect--they would find none to give them shelter, and would ere long be hunted down. at times they talked of making their way to a seaport, seizing a small craft, and setting sail in her; but none of them knew aught of navigation, and the task of traversing the mediterranean, passing through the pillars of hercules, and navigating the stormy seas beyond until they reached britain, would have been impossible for them. news came daily from the city, and they heard that nero had accused the new sect of being the authors of the conflagration, that the most rigid edicts had been issued against them, and that all who refused to abjure their religion were to be sent to the wild beasts in the arena. beric had not seen norbanus since the day when he had saved his library from the fire; but a few days after they had established themselves in the hills he received a letter from him saying that he had, after much inquiry, learned where scopus had established his ludus; he greatly regretted beric had left rome without his seeing him, and hoped he would call as soon as he returned. his family was already established in a house near that of lucius. after that beric occasionally received letters from aemilia, who wrote sometimes in her father's name and sometimes in her own. she gave him the gossip of rome, described the wonderful work that was being done, and sent him letters from pollio to read. one day a letter, instead of coming by the ordinary post, was brought by one of the household slaves. "we are all in terrible distress, beric," she said. "i have told you about the severe persecution that has set in of the christians. a terrible thing has happened. you know that our old nurse belonged to that sect. she often talked to me about it, but it did not seem to me that what she said could be true; i knew that ennia, who is graver in her disposition than i am, thought much of it, but i did not think for a moment that she had joined the sect. two nights ago some spies reported to one of the praetors that some persons, believed to be christians, were in the habit of assembling one or two nights a week at a lonely house belonging to a freedman. a guard was set and the house surrounded, and fifty people were found there. some of them were slaves, some freedmen, some of them belonged to noble families, and among them was ennia. "she had gone accompanied by that wretched old woman. all who had been questioned boldly avowed themselves to be christians, and they were taken down and thrown into prison. imagine our alarm in the morning when we found that ennia was missing from the house, and our terrible grief when, an hour later, a messenger came from the governor of the prison to say that ennia was in his charge. my father is quite broken down by the blow. he does not seem to care about ennia having joined the new sect--you know it is his opinion that everyone should choose their own religion--but he is chiefly grieved at the thought that she should have gone out at night attended only by her nurse, and that she should have done this secretly and without his knowledge. my mother, on the other hand, is most of all shocked that ennia should have given up the gods of rome for a religion of slaves, and that, being the daughter of a noble house, she should have consorted with people beneath her. "i don't think much of any of these things. ennia may have done wrong, but that is nothing to me. i only think of her as in terrible danger of her life, for they say that nero will spare none of the christians, whether of high or low degree. my father has gone out this morning to see the heads of our family and of those allied to us by kinship, to try to get them to use all their influence to obtain ennia's pardon. my mother does nothing but bemoan herself on the disgrace that has fallen upon us. i am beside myself with grief, and so, as i can do nothing else, i write to tell you of the trouble that has befallen us. i will write often and tell you the news." beric's first emotion was that of anger that ennia should, after the promise she had given him, have again gone alone to the christian gathering. then he reflected that as he was away from rome, she was, of course, unable to keep that promise. he had not seen her since that night, for she had passed straight through the atrium with her mother while he was assisting the slaves to take up their burdens. he could not help feeling an admiration for her steadfastness in this new faith that she had taken up. by the side of her livelier sister he had regarded her as a quiet and retiring girl, and was sure that to her these midnight outings by stealth must have been very terrible, and that only from the very strongest sense of duty would she have undertaken them. now her open avowal of christianity, when she must have known what were the penalties that the confession entailed, seemed to him heroic. "it must be a strange religion that could thus influence a timid girl," he said to himself. "my mother killed herself because she would not survive the disaster that had fallen upon her people and her gods; but her death was deemed by all britons to be honourable. besides, my mother was a briton, strong and firm, and capable of heroic actions. this child is courting a death that all who belong to her will deem most dishonourable. there is nothing of the heroine in her disposition; it can only be her faith in her religion that sustains her. as soon as i return to rome i will inquire more into it." it was now ten months since beric had entered the school of scopus. he was nearly twenty years old, and his constant and severe exercises had broadened him and brought him to well nigh his full strength. scopus regarded him with pride, for in all the various exercises of the arena he was already ahead of the other gladiators. his activity was as remarkable as his strength, and he was equally formidable with the trident and net as with sword and buckler; while in wrestling and with the caestus none of the others could stand up against him. he had been carefully instructed in the most terrible contest of all, that against wild beasts, for scopus deemed that, being a captive of rank and importance, he might be selected for such a display. a libyan, who had often hunted the lion in its native wilds, had described to him over and over again the nature of the animal's attack, and the spring with which it hurls itself upon its opponent, and scopus having obtained a skin of one of the animals killed in the arena, the libyan had stuffed it with outstretched paws; and scopus obtained a balista, by which it was hurled through the air as if in the act of springing. against this beric frequently practised. "you must remember," the libyan said, "that the lion is like a great cat, and as it springs it strikes, so that you must avoid not only its direct spring, but its paws stretched to their full extent as it passes you in the air. you must be as quick as the animal itself, and must not swerve till it is in the air. then you must leap aside like lightning, and, turning as you leap, be ready to drive your spear through it as it touches the ground. the inert mass, although it may pass through the air as rapidly as the wild beast, but poorly represents the force and fierceness of the lion's spring. we libyans meet the charge standing closely together, with our spears in advance for it to spring on, and even then it is rarely we kill it without one or two being struck down before it dies. bulls are thought by some to be more formidable than lions; but as you are quick, you can easily evade their rush. the bears are ugly customers. they seem slow and clumsy, but they are not so, and they are very hard to kill. one blow from their forepaws will strip off the flesh as readily as the blow of a tiger. they will snap a spear shaft as easily as if it were a reed. they are all ugly beasts to fight, and more than a fair match for a single man. better by far fight the most skilled gladiator in the ring than have anything to do with these creatures. yet it is well to know how to meet them, so that if ill fortune places you in front of them, you may know how to do your best." accounts came almost daily to the hills of the scenes in the arena, and the romans, accustomed though they were to the fortitude with which the gladiators met the death stroke, were yet astonished at the undaunted bearing of the christians--old men and girls, slaves and men of noble family, calmly facing death, and even seeming to rejoice in it. one evening a slave brought a note from aemilia to beric. it contained but a few words: "our efforts are vain; ennia is condemned, and will be handed to the lions tomorrow in the arena. we have received orders to be present, as a punishment for not having kept a closer watch over her. i think i shall die." beric went to scopus at once. "you advised me several times to go to the arena, scopus, in order to learn something from the conflicts. i want to be present tomorrow. porus and lupus are both to fight." "i am going myself, beric, and will take you with me. i shall start two hours before daybreak, so as to be there in good time. as their lanista i shall enter the arena with them. i cannot take you there, but i know all the attendants, and can arrange for you to be down at the level of the arena. it may not be long before you have to play your part there, and i should like you to get accustomed to the scene, the wall of faces and the roar of applause, for these things are apt to shake the nerves of one unaccustomed to them." beric smiled. "after meeting the romans twenty times in battle, scopus, the noise of a crowd would no more affect me than the roar of the wind over the treetops. still i want to see it; and more, i want to see how the people of this new sect face death. british women do not fear to die, and often slay themselves rather than fall into the hands of the romans, knowing well that they will go straight to the happy island and have no more trouble. are these christians as brave?" scopus shrugged his shoulders. "yes, they die bravely enough. but who fears death? among all the peoples rome has conquered where has she met with cowards? everywhere the women are found ready to fall by their husbands' swords rather than become captives; to leap from precipices, or cast themselves into blazing pyres. is man anywhere lower than the wild beast, who will face his assailants till the last? i have seen men of every tribe and people fight in the arena. if conquered, they raise their hand in order to live to conquer another day; but not once, when the thumbs have been turned down, have i seen one flinch from the fatal stroke." "that is true enough," beric said; "but methinks it is one thing to court death in the hour of defeat, when all your friends have fallen round you, and all hope is lost, and quite another to stand alone and friendless with the eyes of a multitude fixed on you. still i would see it." the next day beric stood beside scopus among a group of guards and attendants of the arena at one of the doors leading from it. above, every seat of the vast circle was crowded with spectators. in the centre of the lower tier sat the emperor; near him were the members of his council and court. the lower tiers round the arena were filled by the senators and equities, with their wives and daughters. above these were the seats of officials and others having a right to special seats, and then came, tier above tier to the uppermost seats, the vast concourse of people. when the great door of the arena opened a procession entered, headed by cneius spado, the senator at whose expense the games were given. then, two and two, marched the gladiators who were to take part in it, accompanied by their lanistae or teachers. scopus, after seeing beric well placed, had left him to accompany porus and lupus. the gladiators were variously armed. there were the hoplomachi, who fought in complete suits of armour; the laqueatores, who used a noose to catch their adversaries; the retiarii, with their net and trident, and wearing neither armour nor helmet; the mirmillones, armed like the gauls; the samni, with oblong shields; and the thracians, with round ones. with the exception of the retiarii all wore helmets, and their right arms were covered with armour, the left being protected by the shield. the gladiators saluted the emperor and people, and the procession then left the arena, the first two matched against each other again entering, each accompanied by his lanista. both the gladiators were novices, the men who had frequently fought and conquered being reserved for the later contests, as the excitement of the audience became roused. one of the combatants was armed as a gaul, the other as a thracian. the combat was not a long one. the men fought for a short time cautiously, and then closing exchanged fierce and rapid blows until one fell mortally wounded. a murmur of discontent rose from the spectators, there had not been a sufficient exhibition of skill to satisfy them. eight or ten pairs of gladiators fought one after the other, the excitement of the audience rising with each conflict, as men of noted skill now contended. the victors were hailed with shouts of applause, and the vanquished were spared, a proof that the spectators were in a good temper and satisfied with the entertainment. beric looked on with interest. in the age in which he lived feelings of compassion scarcely existed. war was the normal state of existence. tribal wars were of constant occurrence, and the vanquished were either slain or enslaved. men fought out their private quarrels to the death; and beric, being by birth briton and by education roman, felt no more compunction at the sight of blood than did either briton or roman. to him the only unnatural feature in the contest was that there existed neither personal nor tribal hostility between the combatants, and that they fought solely for the amusement of the spectators. otherwise he was no more moved by the scenes that passed before his eyes than is a briton of the present day by a friendly boxing match. he was more interested when porus entered the arena, accompanied by scopus. he liked porus, who, although quick and fiery in temper, was good natured and not given to brawling. he had often practised against him, and knew exactly his strength and skill. he was clever in the management of his net, but failed sometimes from his eagerness to use his trident. he was received with loud applause when he entered, and justified the good opinion of the spectators by defeating his antagonist, who was armed as a samnite, the spectators expressing their dissatisfaction at the clumsiness of the latter by giving the hostile signal, when the gaul--for the vanquished belonged to that nationality--instead of waiting for the approach of porus, at once stabbed himself with his own sword. the last pair to fight were lupus and one of the britons. he had not been trained in the school of scopus, but in one of the other ludi, and as he was the first of those brought over by suetonius to appear in the arena, he was greeted with acclamation as loud as those with which lupus was received. tall as lupus was, the briton far exceeded him in stature, and the interest of the spectators was aroused by the question whether the strength of the newcomer would render him a fair match for the well known skill of lupus. a buzz went round the amphitheatre as bets were made on the result. beric felt a thrill of excitement, for the briton was one of the youngest and most active of his followers, and had often fought side by side with him against the romans. how well he had been trained beric knew not, but as he knew that he himself was superior in swordmanship to lupus, he felt that his countryman's chances of success were good. it was not long, however, before he saw that the teaching the briton had received had been very inferior to that given at the school of scopus, and although he twice nearly beat lupus to the ground by the sheer weight of his blows, the latter thrice wounded him without himself receiving a scratch. warned, however, of the superior strength of the briton lupus still fought cautiously, avoiding his blows, and trying to tire him out. for a long time the conflict continued, then, thinking that his opponent was now weakened by his exertions and by loss of blood, lupus took the offensive and hotly pressed his antagonist, and presently inflicted a fourth and more severe wound than those previously given. a shout rose from the spectators, "lupus wins!" when the briton, with a sudden spring, threw himself upon his opponent. their shields clashed together as they stood breast to breast. lupus shortened his sword to thrust it in below the briton's buckler, when the latter smote with the hilt of his sword with all his strength full upon his assailant's helmet, and so tremendous was the blow that lupus fell an inert mass upon the ground, while a tremendous shout rose from the audience at this unexpected termination of the contest. scopus leaned over the fallen man. he was insensible but breathed, being simply stunned by the weight of the blow. scopus held up his own hand, and the unanimous upturning of the thumbs showed that the spectators were well satisfied with the skill and courage with which lupus had fought. chapter xv: the christians to the lions after the contest in which lupus had been defeated there was a pause. the gladiatorial part of the show was now over, but there was greater excitement still awaiting the audience, for they knew nero had ordered that some of the christians were to be given to the lions. there was a hush of expectation as the door was opened, and a procession, consisting of a priest of jupiter and several attendants of the temple, followed by four guards conducting an elderly man with his two sons, lads of seventeen or eighteen, entered. they made their way across the arena and stopped before the emperor. the priest approached the prisoners, holding out a small image of the god, and offered them their lives if they would pay the customary honours to it. all refused. they were then conducted back to the centre of the arena, and the rest, leaving them there, filed out through the door. the old man laid his hands on the shoulders of his sons and began singing a hymn, in which they both joined. their voices rose loud and clear in the silence of the amphitheatre, and there was neither pause nor waver in the tone as the entrance to one of the cages at the other end of the arena was opened, and a lion and a lioness appeared. the animals stood hesitating as they looked round at the sea of faces, then, encouraged by the silence, they stepped out, and side by side made the circuit of the arena, stopping and uttering a loud roar as they came upon the track along which the bleeding bodies of those who had fallen had been dragged. when they had completed the circle they again paused, and now for the first time turned their attention to the three figures standing in its centre. for a minute they stood irresolute, and then crouching low crawled towards them. beric turned his head. he could view without emotion a contest of armed men, but he could not, like the population of rome, see unarmed and unresisting men pulled down by wild beasts. there was a dead stillness in the crowded amphitheatre, then there was a low sound as of gasping breath. one voice alone continued the hymn, and soon that too ceased suddenly. the tragedy was over, and the buzz of conversation and comment again broke out among the spectators. certainly these christians knew how to die. they were bad citizens, they had doubtless assisted to burn rome, but they knew how to die. a strong body of guards provided with torches now entered. the lions were driven back to their dens, the bodies being left lying where they had fallen. four batches of prisoners who were brought out one after another met with a similar fate. then there was another pause. it was known that a girl of noble family was to be the last victim, and all eyes were turned to norbanus, who, with his wife and aemilia, sat in the front row near nero, with two praetorian guards standing beside them. norbanus was deadly pale, but the pride of noble blood, the stoicism of the philosopher, and the knowledge of his own utter helplessness combined to prevent his showing any other sign of emotion. lesbia sat upright and immovable herself. she was not one to show her emotion before the gaze of the common people. aemilia, half insensible, would have fallen had not the guard beside her supported her. she had seen nothing of what had passed in the arena, but had sat frozen with horror beside her mother. again the doors opened, a priest of diana, followed by a procession of white robed attendants, and six virgins from the temple of diana, entered, followed by ennia between the attendants of the temple, while a band of lictors brought up the rear. even the hardened hearts of the spectators were moved by the youth and beauty of the young girl, who, dressed in white, advanced calmly between her guards, with a gentle modest expression on her features. when the procession formed up before the emperor, she saluted him. the priest and the virgins surrounded her, and urged her to pay reverence to the statue of diana. pointing to her parents, they implored her for their sake to recant. pale as death, and with tears streaming down her cheeks, she shook her head quietly. "i cannot deny the lord who died for me," she said. nero himself rose from his seat. "maiden," he said, "if not for your own sake, for the sake of those who love you, i pray you to cease from your obstinacy. how can a child like you know more than the wisest heads of rome? how can you deny the gods who have protected and given victory to your country? i would fain spare you." "i am but a child, as you say, caesar," ennia replied. "i have no strength of my own, but i am strong in the strength of him i worship. he gave his life for me--it is not much that i should give mine for him." nero sank back on his seat with an angry wave of his hand. he saw that the sympathy of the audience was with the prisoner, and would willingly have gained their approval by extending his clemency towards her. the procession now returned to the centre of the arena, where the girls, weeping, took leave of ennia, who soon stood alone a slight helpless figure in the sight of the great silent multitude. nero had spoken in a low tone to one of his attendants. the door of another cage was opened, and a lion, larger in bulk than any that had previously appeared, entered the arena, saluting the audience with a deep roar. as it did so a tall figure, naked to the waist, sprang forward from the group of attendants behind a strong barrier at the other end of the arena. he was armed only with a sword which he had snatched from a soldier standing next to him. deep murmurs of surprise rose from the spectators. the master of ceremonies exchanged a few words with the emperor, and a body of men with torches and trumpets ran forward and drove the lion back into its den. then beric, who had been standing in front of ennia, advanced towards the emperor. "who are you?" nero asked. "i am beric, once chief of the iceni, now a british captive. i received great kindness on my way hither from norbanus, the father of this maid. as we britons are not ungrateful i am ready to defend her to the death, and i crave as a boon, caesar, that you will permit me to battle against the lion with such arms as you may decide." "are you a christian?" the emperor asked coldly. "i am not. i am of the religion of my nation, and rome has always permitted the people that have been subdued to worship in their own fashion. i know nought of the christian doctrines, but i know that this damsel at least can have had nought to do with the burning of rome, and that though she may have forsaken the gods of rome, in this only can she have offended. i pray you, and i pray this assembly, to let me stand as her champion against the beasts." a burst of applause rose from the spectators. this was a novelty, and an excitement beyond what they had bargained for. they had been moved by the youth of the victim, and now the prospects of something even more exciting than the rending to pieces of a defenceless girl enlisted them in favour of the applicant. moreover the romans intensely admired feats of bravery, and that this captive should offer to face single handed an animal that was known to be one of the most powerful of those in the amphitheatre filled them with admiration. accustomed as they were to gaze at athletes, they were struck with the physique and strength of this young briton, with the muscles standing up massive and knotted through the white skin. "granted, granted!" they shouted; "let him fight." nero waited till the acclamation ceased, and then said: "the people have spoken, let their will be done. but we must not be unfair to the lion; as the maiden was unarmed so shall you stand unarmed before the lion." the decision was received in silence by the spectators. it was a sentence of death to the young briton, and the silence was succeeded by a low murmur of disapproval. beric turned a little pale, but he showed no other sign of emotion. "thanks, caesar, for so much of a boon," he said in a loud, steady voice; "i accept the conditions, it being understood that should the gods of my country, and of this maiden, defend me against the lion, the damsel shall be free from all pain and penalty, and shall be restored to her parents." "that is understood," nero replied. with an inclination of his head to the emperor and a wave of his hand to the audience in general, beric turned and walked across the arena to the barrier. scopus was standing there. "you are mad, beric. i grieve for you. you were my favourite pupil, and i looked for great things from you, and now it has come to this, and all is over." "all is not quite over yet, scopus. i will try to do credit to your training; give me my cloak." he wrapped himself in its ample folds, and then walked quietly back to the centre of the arena. a murmur of surprise rose from the spectators. why should the briton cumber his limbs with this garment? on reaching his position beric again threw off the cloak, and stood in the short skirt reaching scarce to the knees. "i am unarmed," he cried in a loud voice. "you see i have not as much as a dagger." then he tore off two broad strips from the edge of the garment and twisted them into ropes, forming a running noose in each, threw the cloak, which was composed of the stout cloth used by the common people, over his arm, and signed to the attendants at the cage to open the door. "oh, beric, why have you thrown away your life in a useless attempt to save mine?" ennia said as he stood before her. "it may not be useless, ennia. my god has protected me through many dangers, and your god will surely assist me now. do you pray to him for aid." then as the door of the den opened he stepped a few paces towards it. a roar of applause rose from the vast audience. they had appreciated his action in making the ropes, and guessed that he meant to use his cloak as a retiarius used his net; there would then be a contest and not a massacre. enraged at its former treatment the lion dashed out of its den with a sudden spring, made three or four leaps forward, and then paused with its eyes fixed on the man standing in front of it, still immovable, in an easy pose, ready for instant action. then it sank till its belly nearly touched the ground, and began to crawl with a stealthy gliding motion towards him. more and more slowly it went, till it paused at a distance of some ten yards. for a few seconds it crouched motionless, save for a slow waving motion of its tail; then with a sharp roar it sprang through the air. with a motion as quick beric leaped aside, and as it touched the ground he sprang across its loins, at the same moment wrapping his cloak in many folds round its head, and knotting the ends tightly. then as the lion, recovering from its first surprise, sprang to its feet with a roar of anger and disgust, beric was on his feet beside it. for a moment it strove to tear away the strange substance which enveloped its head, but beric dropped the end of a noose over one of its forepaws, drew it tight, and with a sudden pull jerked the animal over on its back. as it sprang up again the other forepaw was noosed, and it was again thrown over. this time, as it sprang to its feet, beric struck it a tremendous blow on the nose. the unexpected assault for a moment brought it down, but mad with rage it sprang up and struck out in all directions at its invisible foe, leaping and bounding hither and thither. beric easily avoided the onslaught, and taking every opportunity struck it three or four times with all his force on the ear, each time rolling it over and over. the last of these blows seemed almost to stun it, and it lay for a moment immovable. again beric leaped upon it, coming down astride of its loins with all his weight, and seizing at once the two ropes. the lion uttered a roar of dismay and pain, and struck at him first with one paw and then with the other. by his coolness and quickness, however, he escaped all the blows, and then, when the lion seemed exhausted, he jerked tightly the cords, twisting them behind the lion's back and with rapid turns fastening them together. the lion was helpless now. had beric attempted to pull the cords in any other position it would have snapped them like pack thread, but in this position it had no strength, the pads of the feet being fastened together and the limbs almost dislocated. as the animal rolled over and over uttering roars of vain fury, beric snatched the cloth from its head, tore off another strip, twisted it, and without difficulty bound its hind legs together. then he again wrapped it round the lion's head, and standing up bowed to the spectators. a mighty shout shook the building. never had such a feat been seen in the arena before, and men and women alike standing up waved their hands with frantic enthusiasm. beric had not escaped altogether unhurt, for as the lion struck out at him it had torn away a piece of flesh from his side, and the blood was streaming down over his white skirt. then he went up to ennia, who was standing with closed eyes and hands clasped in prayer. she had seen nothing of the conflict, and had believed that beric's death and her own were inevitable. "ennia," he said, "our gods have saved me; the lion is helpless." then she sank down insensible. he raised her on his shoulder, walked across the arena, passed the barrier, and, ascending the steps, walked along before the first row of spectators and handed her over to her mother. then he descended again, and bowed deeply, first to the emperor and then to the still shouting people. the giver of the games advanced and placed on his head a crown of bay leaves, and handed to him a heavy purse of gold, which beric placed in his girdle, and, again saluting the audience, rejoined scopus, who was in a state of enthusiastic delight at the prowess of his pupil. "you have proved yourself the first gladiator in rome," he said. "henceforth the school of scopus is ahead of all its rivals. now we must get your side dressed. another inch or two, beric, and the conflict would not have ended as it did." "yes, if the lion had not been in such a hurry to strike, and had stretched its paw to the fullest, it would have fared badly with me," beric said; "but it was out of breath and spiteful, and had not recovered from the blow and from the shock of my jumping on it, which must have pretty nearly broken its back. i knew it was a risk, but it was my only chance of getting its paws in that position, and in no other would my ropes have been strong enough to hold them." "but how came you to think of fighting in that way?" scopus asked, after the leech, who was always in attendance to dress the wounds of the gladiators, had bandaged up his side. "i never expected to have to fight the beasts unarmed," beric said, "but i had sometimes thought what should be done in such a case, and i thought that if one could but wrap one's cloak round a lion's head the beast would be at one's mercy. had i had but a caestus i could have beaten its skull in, but without that i saw that the only plan was to noose its limbs. surely a man ought to be able to overcome a blinded beast." "i would not try it for all the gold in rome, beric, even now that i have seen you do it. did you mark caesar? there is no one appreciates valiant deeds more than he does. at first his countenance was cold--i marked him narrowly--but he half rose to his feet and his countenance changed when you first threw yourself on the lion, and none applauded more warmly than he did when your victory was gained. listen to them; they are shouting for you again. you must go. never before did i know them to linger after a show was over. they will give you presents." "i care not for them," beric said. "you must take them," scopus said, "or you will undo the favourable impression you have made, which will be useful to you should you ever enter the arena again and be conquered. go, go!" beric again entered the arena, and the attendants led him up to the emperor, who presented him with a gold bracelet, saying: "i will speak to you again, beric. i had wondered that you and your people should have resisted suetonius so long, but i wonder no longer." then beric was led round the arena. ladies threw down rings and bracelets to him. these were gathered up by the attendants and handed to him as he bowed to the givers. norbanus, his wife, and daughter had already left their seats, surrounded by friends congratulating them, and bearing with them the still insensible girl. having made the tour of the arena beric again saluted the audience and retired. one of the imperial attendants met them as they left the building. "the emperor bids me say, scopus, that when beric is recovered from his wound he is to attend at the palace." "i thought the emperor meant well towards you," scopus said. "you will in any case fight no more in the arena." "how is that?" beric asked in surprise. "did you not hear the shouts of the people the last time you entered, beric?" "i heard a great confused roar, but in truth i was feeling somewhat faint from loss of blood, and did not catch any particular sounds." "they shouted that you were free from the arena henceforth. it is their custom when a gladiator greatly distinguishes himself to declare him free, though i have never known one before freed on his first appearance. the rule is that a gladiator remains for two years in the ring, but that period is shortened should the people deem that he has earned his life by his courage and skill. for a moment i was sorry when i heard it, but perhaps it is better as it is. did you remain for two years, and fight and conquer at every show, you could gain no more honour than you have done. now i will get a lectica and have you carried out to the hills. you are not fit to walk." they were joined outside by porus and lupus. the former was warm in his congratulation. "by the gods, beric, though i knew well that you would gain a great triumph in the arena when your time came, i never thought to see you thus fighting with the beasts unarmed. why, milo himself was not stronger, and he won thirteen times at the olympian and pythian games. he would have won more, but no one would venture to enter against him. why, were you to go on practising for another five years, you would be as strong as he was, and as you are as skilful as you are strong it would go hard with any that met you. i congratulated myself, i can tell you, when i heard the people shout that you were free of the arena, for if by any chance we had been drawn against each other, i might as well have laid down my net and asked you to finish me at once without trouble." "it was but a happy thought, porus: if a man could be caught in a net, why not a lion blinded in a cloak? that once done the rest was easy." "well, i don't want any easy jobs of that sort," porus said. "but let us go into a wine shop; a glass will bring the colour again to your cheeks." "no, no, porus," scopus said. "do you and lupus drink, and i will drink with you, but no wine for beric. i will get him a cup of hot ass's milk; that will give him strength without fevering his blood. here is a place where they sell it. i will go in with him first, and then join you there; but take not too much. you have a long walk back, and i guess, lupus, that your head already hums from the blow that briton gave it. by bacchus, these britons are fine men! i thought you had got an easy thing of it, when boom! and there you were stretched out like a dead man." "it was a trick," lupus said angrily, "a base trick." "not at all," scopus replied. "you fought as if in war; and in war if you had an opponent at close quarters, and could not use your sword's point, you would strike him down with the hilt if you could. as i have told you over and over again, you are a good swordsman, but you don't know everything yet by a long way, and you are so conceited that you never will. i hoped that drubbing beric gave you a few days after he joined us would have done you good, but i don't see that it has. there are some men who never seem to learn. if it had not been for you our ludus would have triumphed all round today; but when one sees a man we put forward as one of our best swordsmen defeated by a raw briton, people may well say, 'scopus has got one or two good men; there is beric, he is a marvel; and porus is good with the net; but as for the rest, i don't value them a straw." the enraged gladiator sprang upon scopus, but the latter seized him by the waist and hurled him down with such force that he was unable to rise until porus assisted him to his feet. as to scopus, he paid him no farther attention, but putting his hand on beric's shoulder led him into the shop. a long draught of hot milk did wonders for beric, and he proposed walking, but scopus would not hear of it. "sit down here for five minutes," he said, "till i have a cup of wine with the others. i should think lupus must need it pretty badly, what with the knock on the head and the tumble i have just given him. i am not sorry that he was beaten by your countryman, for since he has had the luck to win two or three times in the arena, his head has been quite turned. he would never have dared to lay his hand on me had he not been half mad, for he knows well enough that i could strangle him with one hand. the worst of him is, that the fellow bears malice. he has never forgiven you the thrashing you administered to him. now i suppose he will be sulky for weeks; but if he does it will be worse for him, for i will cut off his wine, and that will soon bring him to his senses." scopus had gone but a few minutes when he returned with a lectica, which was a sort of palanquin, carried by four stout countrymen. "really, scopus, it is ridiculous that i should be carried along the streets like a woman." "men are carried as well as women, beric, and as you are a wounded man you have a double right to be carried. here is a bag with all those ornaments you got. it is quite heavy to lift." the bearers protested loudly at the weight of their burden when they lifted the lectica, but the promise of a little extra pay silenced their complaints. they were scarcely beyond the city when beric, who was weaker from loss of blood than he imagined, dozed off to sleep, and did not wake till the lectica was set down in the atrium of the house on the alban hills. next morning he was extremely stiff, and found himself obliged to continue on his couch. "it is of no use your trying to get up," scopus said; "the muscles of your flank are badly torn, and you must remain quiet." an hour later a rheda or four wheeled carriage drove up to the door, and in another minute norbanus entered beric's cubicle. there were tears in his eyes as he held out both hands to him. "ah, my friend," he said, "how happy you must be in the happiness you caused to us! who could have thought, when i entertained, as a passing guest, the friend of pollio, that he would be the saviour of my family? you must have thought poorly of us yesterday that i was not at the exit from the amphitheatre to meet and thank you. but i hurried home with ennia, and having left her in charge of her mother and sister came back to find you, but you had left, and i could learn no news of you. i searched for some time, and then guessing that you had been brought home by scopus, i went back to the child, who is sorely ill. i fear that the strain has been too much for her, and that we shall lose her. but how different from what it would have been! to die is the lot of us all, and though i shall mourn my child, it will be a different thing indeed from seeing her torn to pieces before my eyes by the lion. she has recovered from her faint, but she lies still and quiet, and scarce seems to hear what is said to her. her eyes are open, she has a happy smile on her lips, and i believe that she is well content now that she has done what she deems her duty to her god. she smiled when i told her this morning that i was coming over to see you, and said in a whisper, 'i shall see him again, father.'" "would she like to see me now?" beric said, making an effort to rise. "no, not now, beric. i don't think somehow that she meant that. the leech said that she must be kept perfectly quiet; but i will send a slave with a letter to you daily. oh, what a day was yesterday! the woes of a lifetime seemed centred in an hour. i know not how i lived as i sat there and waited for the fatal moment. all the blood in my veins seemed to freeze up as she was left alone in the arena. a mist came over my eyes. i tried to close them, but could not. i saw nothing of the amphitheatre, nothing of the spectators, nothing but her, till, at the sudden shout from the crowd, i roused myself with a start. when i saw you beside her i thought at first that i dreamed; but aemilia suddenly clasped my arm and said, 'it is beric!' then i hoped something, i know not what, until nero said that you must meet the lion unarmed. "then i thought all was over--that two victims were to die instead of one. i tried to rise to cry to you to go, for that i would die by ennia, but my limbs refused to support me; and though i tried to shout i did but whisper. what followed was too quick for me to mark. i saw the beast spring at you; i saw a confused struggle; but not until i saw you rise and bow, while the lion rolled over and over, bound and helpless, did i realize that what seemed impossible had indeed come to pass, and that you, unarmed and alone, had truly vanquished the terrible beast. "i hear that all rome is talking of nothing else. my friends, who poured in all the evening to congratulate us, told me so, and that no such feat had ever been seen in the arena." "it does not seem much to me, norbanus," beric said. "it needed only some coolness and strength, though truly i myself doubted, when nero gave the order to fight without weapons, if it could be done. i cannot but think that ennia's god and mine aided me." "it is strange," norbanus said, "that one so young and weak as ennia should have shown no fear, and that the other christians should all have met their fate with so wonderful a calm. as you know, i have thought that all religions were alike, each tribe and nation having its own. but methinks there must be something more in this when its votaries are ready so to die for it." "do not linger with me," beric said. "you must be longing to be with your child. pray, go at once. she must be glad to have you by her, even if she says little. i thank you for your promise to send news to me daily. if she should express any desire to see me, i will get scopus to provide a vehicle to carry me to rome; but in a few days i hope to be about." "your first visit must be to caesar, when you are well enough to walk," norbanus said. "they tell me he bade you come to see him, and he would be jealous did he know that he was not the first in your thoughts." norbanus returned to rome, and each day a letter came to beric. the news was always the same; there was no change in ennia's condition. beric's wound healed rapidly. hard work and simple living had so toughened his frame that a wound that might have been serious affected him only locally, and mended with surprising rapidity. in a week he was up and about, and three days later he felt well enough to go to rome. "you would have been better for a few days more rest," scopus said, "but nero is not fond of being kept waiting; and if he really wishes to see you it would be well that you present yourself as soon as possible." "i care nothing for nero," beric said; "but i should be glad, for the sake of norbanus, to see his daughter. it may be that my presence might rouse her and do her good. i want none of nero's favours; they are dangerous at best. his liking is fatal. he has now murdered britannicus, his wife octavia, and his mother agrippina. he has banished seneca, and every other adviser he had he has either executed or driven into exile." "that is all true enough, beric, though it is better not said. still, you must remember you have no choice. there is no thwarting nero; if he designs to bestow favours upon you, you must accept them. i agree with you that they are dangerous; but you know how to guard yourself. a man who has fought a lion with naked hands may well manage to escape even the clutches of nero. he has struck down the greatest and richest; but it is easier for one who is neither great nor rich to escape. at any rate, beric, i have a faith in your fortune. you have gone through so much, that i think surely some god protects you. by the way, what are you going to do with that basketful of women's ornaments that i have locked up in my coffer?" "i thought no more about them, scopus." "i should advise you to sell them. in themselves they are useless to you. but once turned into money they may some day stand you in good stead. they are worth a large sum, i can tell you, and i don't care about keeping them here. none of my school are condemned malefactors. i would never take such men, even to please the wealthiest patron. but there is no use in placing temptation before any, and porus and lupus will have told how the roman ladies flung their bracelets to you. i will take them down to a goldsmith who works for some of my patrons, and get him to value them, if you will." "thank you, scopus, i shall be glad to get rid of them. how would you dress for waiting on caesar?" "i have been thinking it over," scopus said. "i should say well, and yet not too well. you are a free man, for although nero disposed of you as if you had been slaves, you were not enslaved nor did you bear the mark of slavery, therefore you have always dressed like a free man. again, you are a chief among your own people; therefore, as i say, i should dress well but quietly. nero has many freedmen about him, and though some of these provoke derision by vying with the wealthiest, this i know would never be done by you, even did you bask in the favour of nero. a white tunic and a paenula of fine white cloth or a lacerna, both being long and ample so as to fall in becoming folds, would be the best. as i shall ride into rome with you, you can there get one before going to see nero." on arriving at rome beric was soon fitted with a cloak of fine white stuff, the folds of which showed off his figure to advantage. scopus accompanied him to nero's palace. "i know several of his attendants," he said, "and can get you passed in to the emperor, which will save you waiting hours, perhaps, before you can obtain an audience." taking him through numerous courts and along many passages they reached a chamber where several officials of the palace were walking and talking, waiting in readiness should they be required by nero. scopus went up to one with whom he was well acquainted. after the usual greetings he explained to him that he had, in accordance with nero's order, brought the young briton, beric, who had conquered the lion in the arena, and begged him to ask the emperor whether he would choose to give him audience at present. "i will acquaint his chief chamberlain at once, scopus, and will ask him, for your sake, to choose his moment for telling nero. it may make a great difference in the fortunes of the young man whether caesar is in a good temper or not when he receives him. it is not often at present that he is in bad humour. since the fire his mind has been filled with great ideas, and he thinks of little but making the city in all respects magnificent, and as he loves art in every way this is a high delight to him; therefore, unless aught has gone wrong with him, he will be found accessible. i will go to the chamberlain at once, my scopus." it was half an hour before he returned. "the chamberlain said that there could not be a better time for your gladiator to see caesar, and therefore he has spoken to him at once, and nero has ordered the briton to be brought to him. these two officials will conduct him at once to his presence." beric was taken in charge by the two ushers, and was led along several passages, in each of which a guard was on duty, until they reached a massive door. here two soldiers were stationed. the ushers knocked. another official presented himself at the door, and, beckoning to beric to follow him, pushed aside some rich hangings heavy with gold embroidery. they were now in a small apartment, the walls of which were of the purest white marble, and the furniture completely covered with gold. crossing this he drew another set of hangings aside, entered with beric, bowed deeply, and saying, "this is the briton, caesar," retired, leaving beric standing before the emperor. the apartment was of moderate size, exquisitely decorated in greek fashion. one end was open to a garden, where plants and shrubs of the most graceful foliage, brought from many parts of the world, threw a delicious shade. statues of white marble gleamed among them, and fountains of perfumed waters filled the air with sweet odours. nero sat in a simple white tunic upon a couch, while a black slave, of stature rivalling that of beric, kneeled in front of him holding out a great sheet of parchment with designs of some of the decorations of his new palace. nero waved his hand, and the slave, rolling up the parchment, took his stand behind the emperor's couch. the latter looked long and steadily at him before speaking, as if to read his disposition. "beric," he said, "i have seen you risk your life for one who was but little to you, for i have spoken to norbanus, and have learned from him the nature of your acquaintance with him, and found that you have seen but little of this young maiden for whom you were ready to risk what seemed certain death. moreover, she was but a young girl, and her life can have had no special value in your eyes; therefore, it seems to me that you are one who would be a true and faithful friend indeed to a man who on his part was a friend to you. you have the other qualities of bravery and skill and strength. moreover, you belong to no party in rome. i have inquired concerning you, and find that although pollio, the nephew of norbanus, introduced you to many of his friends, you have gone but little among them, but have spent your time much, when not in the ludus, in the public libraries. being myself a lover of books, the report inclines me the more toward you. i feel that i could rely upon you, and you would find in me not a master but a friend. of those around me i can trust but few. they serve from interest, and if their interest lay the other way they would desert me. i have many enemies, and though the people love me, the great families, whose connections and relations are everywhere, think only of their private aims and ends, and many deem themselves to have reasons for hatred against me. i need one like you, brave, single minded, resolute, and faithful to me, who would be as simple and as true when raised to wealth and honour as you have shown yourself when but a simple gladiator. wilt thou be such a one to me?" "i am but ill fitted for such a post, caesar," beric said gravely. "i have been a chief and leader of my own people, and my tongue would never bring itself to utter the flattering words used by those who surround an imperial throne. monarchs love not the truth, and my blunt speech would speedily offend you. a faithful guard to your majesty i might be, more than that i fear i never could be, for even to please you, nero, i could not say aught except what i thought." "i should expect and wish for no more," nero said. "it is good to hear the truth sometimes. i heard it from seneca; but, alas! i did not value it then as i should have done. i am older and wiser now. besides, seneca was a roman, and necessarily mixed up in the intrigues that are ever on foot, and connected with half the great families in rome. you stand alone, and i should know that whatever you said the words would be your own, and would not have been put in your mouth by others, and even when your opinions ran counter to mine i should respect them. well, what do you say?" "it is not for me to bargain with the master of rome," beric said. "i am ready to be your man, caesar, to lay down my life in your defence, to be your guard as a faithful hound might be; only, i pray you, take me not in any way into your confidence as to state affairs, for of these i am wholly ignorant. my ideas are those of a simple british chief. rome and its ways are too complicated for me to understand, and were you to speak to me on such matters i should soon forfeit your favour. for we in britain are, as it were, people of another world--simple and straightforward in our thoughts and ways, and with no ideas of state expediency. therefore, i pray you, let me stand aloof from all such matters, and regard me simply as one ready to strike and die in your defence, and as having no more interest or knowledge of state affairs and state intrigues than those statues in the garden there." "so be it," nero said. "you are modest, beric, and modesty is a virtue rare in rome; but i appreciate your honesty, and feel sure that i can rely upon you for faithful service. let me see, to what office shall i appoint you? i cannot call you my bodyguard, for this would excite the jealousy of the praetorians." he sat in thought for a minute. "ah!" he exclaimed, "you are fond of books, i will appoint you my private librarian. my libraries are vast, but i will have a chamber close to mine own fitted up with the choicest books, so that i can have ready at hand any that i may require. this will be an excuse for having you always about my person." "i do not speak greek, caesar." "you shall have under you a greek freedman, one chiton, who is now in my library. he will take charge of the rolls, for i do not intend that you should remain shut up there. it is but a pretext for your presence here." he touched a bell and a servant entered. "tell phaon to come to me." a minute later phaon, a freedman who stood very high in the confidence of nero, entered. "phaon," the emperor said, "this is beric the briton, he has entered my service, and will have all my trust and confidence even as you have. prepare for him apartments close to mine, and appoint slaves for his service. see that he has everything in accordance with his position as a high official of the palace. let one of the rooms be furnished with sets of books, of which i will give you a list, from my library. chiton is to be in charge of it under him. beric is to be called my private librarian. i wish him to be at all times within call of me. you will be friends with beric, phaon, for he is as honest as you are, and will be, like you, a friend of mine, and, as you may perceive, is one capable of taking part of a friend in case of need." phaon bowed deeply and signed to beric to follow him; the latter bowed to nero, who nodded to him pleasantly, and left the room with phaon. the freedman took him to his private apartment. "nero has chosen well this time, methinks," he said after a close scrutiny of the newcomer. "it is no easy post on which you have entered, beric. nero is changeable in his moods, but you carry your heart in your face, and even he can have no suspicions of you. take my advice, make friends with no man, for one who stands high in court favour today may be an exile or condemned tomorrow, and then all connected with him in any way are apt to share his fate; therefore, it is best to stand quite alone. by tomorrow morning you will find everything in readiness for you here." chapter xvi: in nero's palace upon leaving phaon, beric was conducted to the room where he had left scopus. the latter at once joined him, and without asking any questions left the palace with him. "i would ask nothing until you were outside," scopus said. "they were wondering there at the long audience you have had with nero. judging by the gravity of your face, things have not gone well with you." "they have gone well in one sense," beric said, "though i would vastly rather that they had gone otherwise. i feel very much more fear now than when i stood awaiting the attack of the lion." and he then related to scopus the conversation he had had with nero. the lanista inclined himself humbly to the ground. "you are a great man now, beric, though, as you say, the place is not without its dangers. i guessed when caesar sent for you that he purposed to use your strength and courage in his service. your face is one that invites trust, and nero was wise enough to see that if he were to trust you he must trust you altogether. he has acted wisely. he deemed that, having no friends and connections in rome, he could rely upon you as he could rely upon no one who is a native here. you will be a great man, for a time at any rate." "i would rather have remained at your ludus, scopus. i shall feel like a little dog i saw the other day in a cage of one of the lions. the beast seemed fond of it, but the little creature knew well that at any moment the lion might stretch out its paw and crush it." scopus nodded. "that is true enough, beric, though there are tens of thousands in rome who would gladly run the risk for the sake of the honour and profit. still, as i said to you before we started, i have faith in your good fortune and quickness, and believe that you may escape from the bars where another would lose his skin. tell to none but myself what caesar has said to you. the world will soon guess that your post as private librarian is but a pretext for caesar to have you near him. it is not by such a post that the victor of the arena would be rewarded." they now went together to a goldsmith. "ah! scopus, i have been expecting you. i saw you in the arena with your two gladiators. afterwards i saw this tall young briton fight the lion, and when i heard that he was at your ludus i said to myself, 'scopus will be bringing him to me to dispose of some of the jewelry to which the ladies were so prodigal.'" "that is our errand, rufus. here is the bag." the goldsmith opened it. "you don't expect me to name a price for all these articles, scopus? it will take me a day to examine and appraise them; and, indeed, i shall have to go to a friend or two for money, for there is enough here to stock a shop. never did i know our ladies so liberal of their gifts." "ah!" scopus said, "and you don't often see gifts so well deserved; but, mind you, if it had been i who had fought the lion--i, who have nothing to recommend me in the way of either stature or looks--it would have been a very different thing. youth and stature and good looks go for a great deal even in the arena, i can tell you. well, beric will call in a day or two. here is the inventory of the jewels; i have got a copy at home. do you put the price you will give against each, and then he can sell or not as he pleases. he is not going to sacrifice them, rufus, for he has no need of money; caesar has just appointed him to his household." the manner of the jeweller changed at once. "the list shall be ready for you in two days," he said to beric respectfully. "if you have need of money on account now i can let you have as much as you will." beric shook his head. "i have all that i require," he said. "i will return it may be in two days, it may be more--i know not precisely how much my duties may occupy me." "you will get full value for your goods," scopus said when they left the shop--"that was why i mentioned that you had entered nero's household, for it is a great thing to have a friend at court." "and how about yourself, scopus? you have kept me and trained me for months. now you are going to lose my services just when you might begin to get a return. moreover, i may tell you that i shall as soon as possible get boduoc with me. so you must name a sum which will amply recompense you for the trouble and expense that you have had with us." "i shall be no loser, beric. when captives in war are sent to be trained in a ludus the lanista is paid for a year's keep and tuition for them. after that he makes what he can from those who give entertainments. therefore i received from the imperial treasury the regular amount for you and your comrades. moreover, the senator who gave the performances sent me a very handsome sum--more than he had agreed to give me for porus and lupus together--saying that, although he had not engaged you, your deeds in the arena had delighted the people beyond measure, and that as his show would be talked about for years, it was but fair he should pay your lanista a sum worthy of the performance. and now farewell! you know that i and your comrades at the ludus will always be glad to see you. we shall be back in rome as soon as my place is rebuilt." "you may be sure that i will come, scopus. you have shown me much kindness, and if in any way i can repay you i will do so. tell boduoc i hope very shortly to have him with me, and that maybe i shall be able to find means of withdrawing the others from the arena." as soon as they separated beric walked rapidly to the house where norbanus had taken up his abode. as he reached the door he paused, for he heard within the sounds of wailing, and felt that he had come too late. "tell norbanus," he said to the slave at the door, "that beric is here, but that unless he wishes to see me i will leave him undisturbed, as i fear by the cries that the lady ennia is dead." "she died early this morning," the slave said. "i will tell my master that you are here." he returned almost directly. "norbanus prays you to enter," he said, and led the way to the magistrate's study. "ah, my friend," the roman said, "it is over! ennia died this morning. she passed away as if in sleep. it is a terrible grief to me. thanks to the gods i can bear that as becomes a roman; but how would it have been had i seen her torn to pieces under my eyes? ah, beric you know not from what you have saved us! we could never have lifted up our heads again had she died so. now we shall grieve for her as all men grieve for those they love; but it will be a grief without pain, for assuredly she died happy. she spoke of you once or twice, and each time she said, 'i shall see him again.' i think she was speaking her belief, that she should meet you after death. the christian belief in a future state is like yours, you know, beric, rather than like ours." "she was a gentle creature," beric said, "and as she dared even death by the lions for her god, assuredly she will go to the happy island, though it may not be the same that the druids tell us britons of. and how are the ladies lesbia and aemilia?" "my wife is well," the magistrate said. "she has not the consolations of philosophy as i have, but i think that she feels it is better for the child herself that she should have so died. ennia would always have remained a christian, and fresh troubles and persecutions would have come. besides, her religion would have put her apart from her mother and her family. to me, of course, it would have made no difference, holding the views that i do as to the religions of the world; but my wife sees things in a different light. aemilia is worn out with watching and grief, but i know that she will see you presently, that is, if you are not compelled to return at once to the hills." "i return there no more. i have seen nero today, and he has appointed me an official in his household. it will seem ridiculous to you when i say that i am to be his private librarian. that, of course, is but a pretext to keep me near his person, deeming that i am strong enough to be a useful guard to him, and being a stranger am not likely to be engaged in any intrigue that may be going on. i would rather have remained at the ludus for a time; but there is no refusing the offers of an emperor, and he spoke to me fairly, and i answered him as one man should do another, frankly and openly." "nero has done wisely," norbanus said warmly, "though for you the promotion is perilous. to be nero's friend is to be condemned beforehand to death, though for a time he may shower favours upon you. he is fickle and inconstant, and you have not learned to cringe and flatter, and are as likely as not to anger him by your outspoken utterances." "i shall assuredly say what i think if he questions me," beric said quietly; "but if he values me as a guard, he will scarce question me when he knows that i should express an opinion contrary to his own." "when do you enter his service, beric?" "i am to present myself tomorrow morning." "then you will stay with us tonight, beric. this is a house of mourning, but you are as one of ourselves. you must excuse ceremony, for i have many arrangements to make, as ennia will be buried tomorrow." "i will go out into the garden," beric said. "do so. i will send up word to aemilia that you are there. doubtless she would rather meet you there than before the slaves." beric had been sitting in the shade for half an hour when he saw aemilia coming towards him. her face was swollen with crying, and the tears were still streaming down her cheeks. beric took her hand, and would have bent over it, when she grasped his with both of hers and pressed it to her lips. "oh, beric," she cried, "what have you not done for us, and how much do we not owe you! had it not been for you, i should be mourning now, not for ennia who lies with a smile on her face in her chamber, but for ennia torn to pieces and devoured by the lion. it seemed to me that i too should die, when suddenly you stood between her and the fierce beast, seeming to my eyes as if a god had come down to save her; and when all the people gave you up as lost, standing there unarmed and calmly waiting the lion's attack, i felt that you would conquer. truly ennia's god and yours must have stood beside you, though i saw them not. how else could you have been so strong and fearless? ennia thought so too. she told me so one night when the house was asleep, and i only watching beside her. 'my god was with him,' she said. 'none other could have given him the strength to battle with the lion. he will bring him to himself in good time, and i shall meet him again.' she said something about your knowing that she was a christian. but, of course, you could not have known that." "i did know it, aemilia;" and beric then told her of his meeting with ennia and the old slave when they were attacked by the plunderers on the way home from their place of meeting. "she promised me not to go again," he said, "without letting me know, in which case i should have escorted her and protected her from harm. but just after that there was the fire, and i had to go away with scopus to the alban hills; and so, as she knew that i could not escort her, i never heard from her. i would that i had been with her that night she was arrested, then she might not have fallen into the hands of the guard. indeed, had i been here i would have gone gladly, for it seemed to me there must be something strange in the religion that would induce a quiet gentle girl like her to go out at night unknown to her parents. now i desire even more to learn about it. her god must surely have given her the strength and courage that she showed when she chose death by lions rather than deny him." "i, too, should like to know something about it," aemilia said. "by the way ennia spoke, when she said you knew that she was a christian, it seemed to me that, if you did know, which i thought was impossible, she thought you were angry with her for becoming a christian." "i was angry with her not for being a christian, but for going out without your father's knowledge, and i told her so frankly. if it had been you i should not have been so much surprised, because you have high spirits and are fearless in disposition; but for her to do so seemed so strange and unnatural, that i deemed this religion of hers must be bad in that it taught a girl to deceive her parents." "what did she say, beric?" "i could see that she considered it her duty beyond all other duties, and so said no more, knowing nothing of her religion beyond what your father told me." "i wish pollio had been here," the girl said; "he would have thought as i do about the loss of ennia. my father has his philosophy, and considers it rather a good thing to be out of the world. my mother was so horrified when she heard that ennia was a christian, that i am sure she is relieved at her death. i am not a philosopher, and it was nothing to me whether ennia took up with this new sect or not. so you see i have no one who can sympathize with me. you can't think how dreadful the thought is that i shall be alone in future." "we grow accustomed to all things," beric said. "i have lost all my relations, my country, and everything, and i am here a stranger and little better than a slave, and yet life seems not so unpleasant to me. in time this grief will be healed, and you will be happy again." "i am sure i should never have been happy, beric, if she had died in the arena. i should always have had it before my eyes--i should have dreamt of it. but why do you say that until today you have been almost a slave? why is it different today?" beric told her of his new position. "if i could take your position, and have your strength but for one night," aemilia said passionately, "i would slay the tyrant. he is a monster. it is to him that ennia's death is due. he has committed unheard of crimes; and he will kill you, too, beric. he kills all those whom he once favours." "i shall be on my guard, aemilia; besides, my danger will not be great, for he will have nothing to gain by my death. i shall keep aloof from all intrigues, and he will have no reason to suspect me. the danger, if danger there be, will come from my refusing to carry out any of his cruel orders. i am ready to be a guard, but not an executioner." "i know how it will end," the girl sighed; "but i shall hope always. you conquered the lion, maybe you will conquer nero." "who is a very much less imposing creature," beric smiled. a slave girl at this moment summoned aemilia into the house. she waited a moment. "remember, beric," she said, "that if trouble and danger come upon you, any such poor aid as i can give will be yours. i am a roman girl. i have not the strength to fight as you have, but have the courage to die; and as, at the risk of your life, you saved ennia for us, so would i risk my life to save yours. remember that a woman can plot and scheme, and that in dealing with nero cunning goes for as much as strength. we have many relatives and friends here, too, and ennia's death in the arena would have been viewed as a disgrace upon the whole family; so that i can rely upon help from them if need be. remember that, should the occasion arise, i shall feel your refusal of my help much more bitterly than any misfortune your acceptance of it could bring upon me." then turning, the girl went up to the house. on arriving at nero's palace the next morning, and asking for phaon, beric was at once conducted to his chamber. "that is well," the freedman said as he entered. "nero is in council with his architects at present. i will show you to your chamber at once, so that you will be in readiness." the apartment to which phaon led beric was a charming one. it had no windows in the walls, which were covered with exquisitely painted designs, but light was given by an opening in the ceiling, under which, in the centre of the room, was the shallow basin into which the rain that penetrated through the opening fell. there were several elegantly carved couches round the room. some bronze statues stood on plinths, and some pots of tall aquatic plants stood in the basin; heavy hangings covered the entrance. "here," phaon said, drawing one of them aside, "is your cubicule, and here, next to it, is another. it is meant for a friend of the occupant of the room; but i should not advise you to have anyone sleep here. nero would not sleep well did he know that any stranger was so close to his apartment. this, and the entrance at the other end of the room, lead into passages, while this," and he drew back another curtain, "is the library." this room was about the same size as that allotted to beric, being some twenty-five feet square. short as the notice had been, a wooden framework of cedar wood, divided into partitions fifteen inches each way, had been erected round, and in each of these stood a wooden case containing rolls of manuscripts, the name of the work being indicated by a label affixed to the box. seated at a table in one of the angles was the greek chiton, who saluted beric. "we shall be good friends, i hope," beric said, "for i shall have to rely upon you entirely for the greek books, and it is you who will be the real librarian." chiton was a man of some thirty years of age, with a pale greek face; and looking at him earnestly beric thought that it looked an honest one. he had anticipated that the man nero had chosen would be placed as a spy over him; but he now concluded this was not so, and that nero at present trusted him entirely. "this passage," phaon said, "leads direct to caesar's private apartment, a few steps only separate them. the passage on this side of your room also leads there, so that either from here or from it you can be summoned at once. now let us return to your room. it is from there you will generally go to nero when he summons you. that door at the end of the short passage will not be kept locked, while this one from the library cannot be opened from your side. three strokes of nero's bell will be the signal that he requires you. if after the three have sounded there is another struck smartly, you will snatch up your sword and rush in instantly by night or day." "what are my duties to be?" beric asked when they had returned to his room, "for chiton can discharge those of librarian infinitely better than i can do." "you will sit and read here, or pass the time as you like, until nine o'clock, at which hour nero goes to the baths. at eleven he goes out to inspect the works or to take part in public ceremonies. at three he sups, and the meal lasts sometimes till seven or eight, sometimes until midnight. your duties in the library will end when he goes to the baths, and after that you will be free, unless he summons you to attend him abroad, until supper is concluded. at night you will draw back the curtains between the passage and your room and that of your cubicule, so that you may hear his summons, or even his voice if loudly raised. you will lie down with your sword ready at hand. i should say your duties will begin at six in the morning, and it is only between that hour and nine that you will be a prisoner in the library." "i shall not find it an imprisonment," beric said. "three hours is little enough to study, with all that wealth of books ready at hand. how about chiton?" "he will be on duty whenever the emperor is in the palace; beyond that he is free to go where he likes, so that he be ready at all times to produce any book that nero may call for. your meals will be brought up to you by your attendant from the imperial kitchen. there are, you know, baths in the palace for the use of the officials. you will find in this chest a supply of garments of all kinds suitable for different occasions, and here, in the cubicule, ready to hand, are a sword and dagger, with a helmet, breastplate, and shield, to be worn only when caesar desires you to accompany him armed. if there is anything else that you require, you have but to give the order to your attendant, who will obtain it from the steward of the palace." at this moment a slave drew aside the hanging: "caesar expects you, beric." nero was standing at the top of the steps into the garden when beric entered. "walk with me, beric," he said. "for three hours i have been going into the affairs of the city, and hearing letters read from the governors of the provinces. it will be a change to talk of other things. tell me about this britain of yours. i know about your wars, tell me of your life at home." beric at once complied. he saw that it was not information about religion and customs that the emperor desired to hear, but talk about simple matters that would distract his thoughts from the cares of state. he talked, then, of his native village, of his mother with her maids at work around her, of hunting expeditions as a boy with boduoc, and how both had had a narrow escape of being devoured by wolves. nero listened in silence as they strolled under the deep shade of the trees. at times he hardly seemed to be listening, but occasionally he asked a question that showed he was following what beric said. "your talk is like a breath from the snow clad mountains," he said at last, "or a cup of cold water to a thirsty traveller. the word romans never occurred in it, and yet it was in our tongue. you were brought up among us, as i heard. tell me of that." briefly beric described his life at camalodunum. "it is a strange mixture," nero said; "the cultivated roman and the wild briton. i understand now better than i did before, your risking your life for the christian girl in the arena. you did not love her?" "no, caesar; we britons do not think of marriage until we are at least five-and-twenty. we hold that young marriages deteriorate a race. ennia was little more than a child, according to our notions. she was scarce sixteen, and when i saw her before, for a few days only, she was a year younger; but i think that i should have done the same had i never seen her before. we britons, like the gauls, hold women in high respect, and i think that few of my people would hesitate to risk their lives to save a helpless woman." "i think we are all for self here," nero said; "but we can admire what we should not think of imitating. i like you, beric, because you are so different from myself and from all around me. we are products of rome, you of the forest; every man here sighs for power or wealth, or lives for pleasure--i as much as any. we suffer none to stand in our way, but trample down remorselessly all who hinder us. as to risking our lives for the sake of a woman, and that woman almost a stranger, such an idea would never so much as occur to us. this is not the only girl you have saved. i received a letter from caius muro some months ago, saying that the news had come to him in syria that beric, the young chief of the iceni, who had so long withstood suetonius, had been brought a prisoner to rome, and he besought me, should beric still be alive, to show favour to him, as he had saved his little daughter, when all others had been slain, at the sack of camalodunum, and that he had hidden her away until after the defeat of boadicea, and had then sent her safe and unharmed back to the romans. the matter escaped my mind till now, though, in truth, i bade my secretary write to him to say that i would befriend you. but it is strange that, having so much life and spirit in that great body of yours, you should yet hold life so cheaply. it was the way with our forefathers, but it is not so now, perhaps because our life is more pleasant than theirs was. tell me, has phaon done all to make you comfortable? is there aught else that you would wish? if so, speak freely." "there is one thing i should like, caesar; i should like to have with me my follower boduoc, he who was the companion of my boyhood, who fought with me in that hut against the wolves, and was ever by my side in the struggle among our fens. i ask this partly for my own sake, and partly that i may the better do the duty you have set me of acting as your guard. the air of palaces is heavy, and men wake not from sleep as when they lie down in the forest and carry their lives in their hands. i might not hear your call; but with him with me we could keep alternate watch through the night, and the slightest sounds would reach our ears. we could even take post close to the hangings of your chamber, just as the praetorians guard all the avenues on the other side. i might even go further. there were twenty of my countrymen brought hither with me. all are picked men, not one but in strength and courage is my equal. i would say, place them in offices in the palace; make them door keepers, or place some of them here as labourers under your gardeners, then at all times you would have under your orders a body of twenty devoted men, who would escort you in safety though half rome were in tumult. they would sleep together among the slaves, where i could instantly summon them. i can answer for their fidelity, they would follow me to the death against any foe i bade them attack." "it is an excellent idea, beric, and shall be carried out. they were all sent to the ludi, if i mistake not, and will have skill as well as strength and courage. i will bid my secretary send an order for their discharge, and that they present themselves to phaon tomorrow. he will find occupations for them, and i will myself bid him so dispose of them that they shall be well satisfied with their appointments. truly, as you say, a guard of twenty gladiators of your strength and courage might well defend me against a host. now it is time that i went to my bath." upon the following day the british captives were all disposed as door keepers in the palace. beric was present when they presented themselves before phaon, and had afterwards a private interview with them. they were delighted at finding that they were again under his leadership. all hated as much as ever the occupation of gladiator, although only the man who had defeated lupus had as yet appeared in the arena. "your duties will be simple and easy," beric said. "you will only have to see that no strangers pass you without authority. each of you will have one or more attendants with you, who will take the names of those who present themselves to those whom they wish to see, and will, on bringing an authorization for them to pass, escort them to the person with whom they have business. of course the orders will be different at different posts, but these you will receive from the officials of the chamberlain. you will be on duty, as i learn, for six hours each day, and will for the rest of the time be free to go where you please. i suppose by this time all of you have learned sufficient latin to converse freely. remember that at nine o'clock in the evening you must all be in the palace. phaon has arranged for an apartment that you will occupy together. there you will keep your arms, and be always ready, when you receive a message from me, to attend prepared for fighting. there is one thing more: do not mingle with the romans more than you can help; listen to no tales relating to the emperor, and let no man discuss with you any question of state. everything that is done in the palace is known, and were you seen talking with any man who afterwards fell under the suspicion of nero it might cost you your lives. remember that, whatever may be the duties assigned to you here, we are really assembled as a sort of special bodyguard to him; he is our general. it is no business of ours what his private acts may be. it may be that he is cruel to the powerful and wealthy, but on the other hand he spends his money lavishly on the people of rome, and is beloved by them. if they as romans do not resent his acts towards senators and patricians it is no business of ours, strangers and foreigners here, to meddle in the matter. it may be that in time, if we do our duty well, nero may permit us to return to britain." there was a murmur of approval. "nero may cut off the head of every man in rome for what i care," boduoc said. "i owe nothing to the romans. they are all our enemies, from the highest to the lowest; and if nero is disposed to be our friend he can do what he likes with them. but i do wish he had given us something more to do than to hang about his palace." six months passed. beric stood high in favour with nero. two or three times, in order to test the vigilance of his guard, he had sounded his bell. on each occasion an armed figure had instantly entered his room, only to retire when he waved his hand; so that the slave who slept at the other door found nero alone when he entered, and brought him a cooling drink, or performed some other little office that served as an excuse for his summons, the emperor being well aware how great would be the jealousy of the praetorian guard, were report to reach them that caesar had guards save themselves. beric often followed in the train of the emperor when he went abroad; and as it speedily became known that he was a favourite of nero, his friendship was eagerly sought by those who frequented the court, and his good offices solicited by those who had requests to make of the emperor. large sums of money had been sometimes offered him for his good offices, but he steadily refused to accept any presents whatever, or to mingle in the affairs of others, except in very occasional cases, where it seemed to him that those who sought his aid had been cruelly and unfairly dealt with by officials or venal magistrates. the sale of his jewels had brought him in a large sum of money, which he had placed in the hands of norbanus; and the handsome appointments nero had assigned to his office were very much more than sufficient for his wants. he was always a welcome guest at the house of norbanus, and now that he was an official high in favour with nero, even lesbia received him with marked courtesy. the conversation always turned, when the ladies were present, upon general topics--the gossip of society in rome, news from the provinces, and other similar matters, for beric begged them not to speak of the serious events of the day. "i am one of nero's guards, and i do not want to have to hate my work, or to wish well to those from whom i am bound to protect him. to me he is kind and friendly. at times when i am with him in the garden or alone in his room he talks to me as an equal, of books and art, the condition of the people, and other topics. "it seems to me that there are two neros: the one a man such as he was when he ascended the throne--gentle; inclined to clemency; desirous of the good of his people, and of popularity; a lover of beautiful things; passionately devoted to art in all its branches; taking far greater pleasure in the society of a few intimate friends than in state pageants and ceremonies. there is another nero; of him i will not talk. i desire, above all things, not to know of him. i believe that he has been driven to this war upon many of the best and worthiest in rome, by timidity. he is suspicious. possibly he has reason for his suspicions; possibly they are unfounded. i do not wish to defend him. all this is a matter for you romans, and not for me. i wish to know nothing about it; to leave all public matters to those they may concern; to shut my eyes and my ears as much as i can to all that goes on around me. it is for that reason that i go so little to other houses save this. i meet those about the court at the baths, the gymnasium, and in the streets. but at these places men speak not of public affairs, they know not who may be listening; and certainly they would not speak before me. happily, as i am known to stand high in caesar's favour, i am the last person to whom they would say aught in his blame. thus it is that, though sometimes i come, from chance words let fall, to know that proscriptions, accusations, confiscations, and executions take place; that the christians are still exposed to horrible persecutions and tortures; that a gloom hangs over society, and that no man of wealth and high station can regard himself as safe, it is only a vague rumour of these things that i hear; and by keeping my ears sealed and refusing to learn particulars, to listen to private griefs and individual suffering, i am still able to feel that i can do my duty to caesar." norbanus and lesbia alike agreed with beric's reasoning; the former, indeed, himself took but comparatively little interest in what passed around him. the latter was, on the other hand, absorbed in the politics of the hour. she was connected with many noble families, and knew that a member of these might fall at any moment under nero's displeasure. to have a friend, then, high in the favour of nero was a matter of great importance; and she therefore impressed upon all her intimates that when they found beric at her house they should scrupulously avoid all discussion of public affairs. chapter xvii: betrothal nero had, within a short time of beric's establishment in the palace, spoken to him of his apprehension of the increasing power of the party who, having reverted to the opinions of the stoic philosophers, were ever denouncing the luxury and extravagance of modern ways, and endeavouring, both by example and precept, to reintroduce the simplicity and severity of former times. "all this," nero said angrily, "is of course but a cloak under which to attack me. piso and plautus, seneca and lucan, do but assume this severity of manners. they have plotted and intrigued against me. i shall never be safe while they live." "caesar," beric said gravely, "i am but a soldier, but born a free briton and a chief. i cannot sell my service, but must give it loyally and heartily. you honour me with your favour and confidence; i believe that i am worthy of it. i do not serve you for money. already i have begged you not to heap presents upon me. wealth would be useless to me did i desire it. not only have you offered to bestow estates upon me, but i have learned already that there are many others who, seeing that i am favoured by you, would purchase my friendship or my advocacy by large sums. i should despise myself if i cared for money. you would, i know honour me not only with your trust that i can be relied upon to do my duty as your guard, but by treating me as one in your confidence in other matters. at the risk, then, of exciting your displeasure and forfeiting your favour, i must again pray you not to burden me with state matters. of these i know nothing, and wish to know nothing. save that of seneca, i scarce know the names of the others of whom you have spoken. i am wholly ignorant of the intrigues of court life, and i seek to know nothing of them, and am therefore in no position to give any opinion on these matters; and did i speak from only partial knowledge i should do these men great wrong. "in the next place, caesar, i am not one who has a double face, and if you ask my opinion of a matter in which i thought that others had ill advised you, i should frankly say that i thought you were wrong; and the truth is never palatable to the great. i try, therefore, to shut my ears to everything that is going on around me, for did i take note of rumours my loyalty to you might be shaken." "perhaps you are right," nero said, after a long pause. "but tell me, once and for all, what you do think on general matters. it is good to have the opinion of one whom i know to be honest." "on one subject only are my convictions strong, caesar. i think that the terrible persecution of the christians is in itself horrible, and contrary to all the traditions of rome. these are harmless people. they make no disturbances; they do injury to no one; they are guilty of no act that would justify in any way the tortures inflicted upon them. i am not a christian, i know nothing of their doctrines; but i am unable to understand how one naturally clement and kind hearted as you are can give way to the clamour of the populace against these people. as to those of whom you speak, and others, i have no opinions; but were i caesar, strong in the support of the praetorian guards, and in the affection of the people at large, i would simply despise plotters. the people may vaguely admire the doctrines of the stoics, but they themselves love pleasure and amusements and spectacles, and live upon your bounty and generosity. there can then be nothing to fear from open force. should there be conspirators who would attempt to compass their ends by assassination, you have your guards to protect you. you have myself and my little band of countrymen ready to watch over you unceasingly." "no care and caution will avail against the knife of the assassin," nero said gloomily. "it is only by striking down conspirators and assassins that one can guard one's self against their weapons. julius caesar was killed when surrounded by men whom he deemed his friends." beric could not deny the truth of nero's words. "that is true, caesar, and therefore i do not presume to criticise or even to have an opinion upon acts of state policy. these are matters utterly beyond me. i know nothing of the history of the families of rome. i know not who may, with or without reason, deem that they have cause of complaint against you, or who may be hostile to you either from private grievances or personal ambitions, and knowing nothing i wish to know nothing. i desire, as i said when you first spoke to me, to be regarded as a watchdog, to be attached to you by personal kindness, and to guard you night and day against conspirators and assassins. i beseech you not to expect more from me, or to deem it possible that a briton can be qualified to give any opinion whatever as to a matter so alien to him as the intrigues and conspiracies of an imperial city. did i agree with you, you would soon doubt my honesty; did i differ from you, i should incur your displeasure." nero looked up at the frank countenance of the young briton. "enough," he said smiling, "you shall be my watchdog and nothing more." as time went on nero's confidence in his british guard steadily increased. he had his spies, and knew how entirely beric kept himself aloof from intimate acquaintanceship with any save the family of norbanus, and learned, too, that he had refused many large bribes from suitors. for a time, although he knew it not, beric was constantly watched. his footsteps were followed when he went abroad, his conversations with others in the baths, which formed the great centres of meeting, and stood to the romans in the place of modern clubs, were listened to and noted. it was observed that he seldom went to convivial gatherings, and that at any place when the conversation turned on public affairs he speedily withdrew; that he avoided all display of wealth, dressed as quietly as it was possible for one in the court circle to do, and bore himself as simply as when he had been training in the ludus of scopus. there he still went very frequently, practising constantly in arms with his former companions, preferring this to the more formal exercises of the gymnasium. thus, after a time, nero became confirmed in his opinion of beric's straightforward honesty, and felt that there was no fear of his being tampered with by his enemies. one result of this increased confidence was that beric's hours of leisure became much restricted, for nero came to require his attendance whenever he appeared in public. with beric and boduoc among the group of courtiers that followed him, the emperor felt assured there was no occasion to fear the knife of the assassin; and it was only when he was at the baths, where only his most chosen friends were admitted, or during the long carousals that followed the suppers, that beric was at liberty, and in the latter case boduoc was always near at hand in case of need. nero's precautions were redoubled after the detection of the conspiracy of piso. that this plot was a real one, and not a mere invention of nero to justify his designs upon those he hated and feared, is undoubted. the hour for the attempt at assassination had been fixed, the chief actor was prepared and the knife sharpened. but the executions that followed embraced many who had no knowledge whatever of the plot. seneca was among the victims against whom there was no shadow of proof. after the discovery of this plot beric found his position more and more irksome in spite of the favour nero showed him. do what he would he could not close his ears to what was public talk in rome. the fabulous extravagances of nero, the public and unbounded profligacy of himself and his court, the open defiance of decency, the stupendous waste of public money on the new and most sumptuous palace into which he had now removed, were matters that scandalized even the population of rome. senators, patricians, grave councillors, noble matrons were alike willingly or unwillingly obliged to join in the saturnalia that prevailed. the provinces were ruined to minister to the luxury of rome. the wealth of the noblest families was sequestrated to the state. all law, order, and decency were set at defiance. to the britons, simple in their tastes and habits, this profusion of luxury, this universal profligacy seemed absolutely monstrous. when they met together and talked of their former life in their rude huts, it seemed that the vengeance of the gods must surely fall upon a people who seemed to have lost all sense of virtue, all respect for things human and divine. to beric the only bearable portions of his existence were the mornings he spent in reading, and in the study of greek with chiton, and in the house of norbanus. of lesbia he saw little. she spent her life in a whirl of dissipation and gaiety, accompanying members of her family to all the fetes in defiance of the wishes of norbanus, whose authority in this matter she absolutely set at naught. "the emperor's invitations override the authority of one who makes himself absurd by his presumption of philosophy. i live as do other roman ladies of good family. divorce me if you like; i have the fortune i brought you, and should prefer vastly to go my own way." this step norbanus would have taken but for the sake of aemilia. by his orders the latter never went abroad with her mother or attended any of the public entertainments, but lived in the quiet society of the personal friends of norbanus. lesbia had yielded the point, for she did not care to be accompanied by a daughter of marriageable age, as by dint of cosmetics and paint she posed as still a young woman. aemilia had long since recovered her spirits, and was again the merry girl beric had known at massilia. one day when beric called he saw that norbanus, who was seldom put out by any passing circumstance, was disturbed in mind. "i am troubled indeed," he said, in answer to beric's inquiry. "lesbia has been proposing to me the marriage of rufinus sulla, a connection of hers, and, as you know, one of nero's intimates, with aemilia." beric uttered an exclamation of anger. "he is one of the worst of profligates," he exclaimed. "i would slay him with my own hand rather than that aemilia should be sacrificed to him." "and i would slay her first," norbanus said calmly; "but, as lesbia threatened when i indignantly refused the proposal, rufinus has but to ask nero's approval, and before his orders my authority as a father goes for nothing. i see but one way. it has seemed to me for a long time, beric, that you yourself felt more warmly towards aemilia than a mere friend. putting aside our obligations to you for having risked your life in defence of ennia, there is no one to whom i would more willingly give her. have i been mistaken in your thoughts of her?" "by no means," beric said. "i love your daughter aemilia, but i have never spoken of it to you for two reasons. in the first place i shall not be for some years of the age at which we britons marry, and in the second i am but a captive. at present i stand high in the favour of nero, but that favour may fail me at any day, and my life at the palace is becoming unbearable; but besides, it is impossible that this orgy of crime and debauchery can continue. the vengeance of heaven cannot be much longer delayed. the legions in the provinces are utterly discontented and well nigh mutinous, and even if rome continues to support nero the time cannot be far off when the legions proclaim either galba, or vespasian, or some other general, as emperor, and then the downfall of nero must come. how then could i ask you for the hand of aemilia, a maiden of noble family, when the future is all so dark and troubled and my own lot so uncertain? "i cannot raise my sword against caesar, for, however foul his crimes, he has treated me well. had it not been for that i would have made for praeneste, when the gladiators rose there the other day, and for the same reason i can do nothing to prepare the way for a rising here. i know the ludus of scopus would join to a man. there is great discontent among the other schools, for the people have become so accustomed to bloodshed that they seem steeled to all pity, and invariably give the signal for the despatch of the conquered. as to your offer, norbanus, i thank you with all my heart; but were it not for this danger that threatens from rufinus, i would say that at the present time i dare not link her lot to mine. the danger is too great, the future too dark. it seems to me that the city and all in it are seized with madness, and above all, at the present time, i would not for worlds take her to the palace of nero. but if aemilia will consent to a betrothal to me, putting off the period of marriage until the times are changed, i will, with delight, accept the offer of her hand, if she too is willing, for in briton, as in gaul, our maidens have a voice in their own disposal." norbanus smiled. "methinks, beric, you need not fear on that score. since the day when you fought the lion in the arena you have been her hero and the lord of her heart. even i, although but short sighted as to matters unconnected with my work, could mark that, and i believe it is because her mother sees and fears it that she has determined to marry her to rufinus. i will call her down to find out whether she is ready to obey my wishes." in a minute or two aemilia came down from the women's apartments above. "my child," norbanus said, "i have offered you in marriage to beric. he has accepted, saving only that you must come to him not in obedience to my orders but of your own free will, since it is the custom of his country that both parties should be equally free of choice. what do you say, my child?" aemilia had flushed with a sudden glow of colour as her father began, and stood with downcast eyes until he had finished. "one moment before you decide, aemilia," beric said. "you know how i am situated, and that at any moment i may be involved in peril or death; that life with me can scarcely be one of ease or luxury, and that even at the best you may be an exile for ever from rome." she looked up now. "i love you, beric," she said. "i would rather live in a cottage with you for my lord and master than in a palace with any other. i would die with you were there need. your wishes shall always be my law." "that is not the way in britain," beric said, as he drew her to him and kissed her. "the husband is not the lord of his wife, they are friends and equals, and such will we be. there is honour and respect on both sides." "it will be but your betrothal at present," norbanus said. "neither beric nor i would like to see you in the palace of caesar; but the sponsalia shall take place today, and then he can claim you when he will. come again this evening, beric. i will have the conditions drawn up, and some friends shall be here to witness the form of betrothal. this haste, child, is in order to give beric power to protect you. were you free, rufinus might obtain an order from nero for me to give you to him, but once the conditions are signed they cannot be broken save by your mutual consent; and moreover, beric can use his influence with the emperor on behalf of his betrothed wife, while so long as you remain under my authority he could scarcely interfere did nero give his promise to rufinus." "will my mother be here?" "she will not, nor do i desire her presence," norbanus said decidedly. "she has defied my authority and has gone her own path, and it is only for your sake that i have not divorced her. she comes and she goes as she chooses, but her home is with her family, not here. she has no right by law to a voice in your marriage. you are under my authority and mine alone. it is but right that a good mother should have an influence and a voice as to her daughter's marriage; but a woman who frequents the saturnalia of nero has forfeited her mother's rights. it will be time enough for her to hear of it when it is too late for her to cause trouble. now do you two go into the garden together, for i have arrangements to make." at six o'clock beric returned to the house. in the atrium were gathered a number of guests; some were members of the family of norbanus, others were his colleagues in office--all were men of standing and family. beric was already known to most of them, having met them at suppers at the house. when all were assembled norbanus left the room, and presently returned leading aemilia by the hand. "my friends," he said, "you already know why you are assembled here, namely to be witnesses to the betrothal of my daughter to beric the briton. vitrio, the notary, will read the conditions under which they are betrothed." the document was a formal one, and stated that norbanus gave up his potestas or authority over his daughter aemilia to beric, and that he bound himself to complete the further ceremony of marriage either by the religious or civil form as beric might select whenever the latter should demand it, and that further he agreed to give her on her marriage the sum of three thousand denarii, and to leave the whole of his property to her at his death; while beric on his part bound himself to complete the ceremonies of marriage whenever called upon by norbanus to do so, and to pay him at the present time one thousand denarii on the consideration of his signing the present agreement, and on his delivering up to him his authority over his daughter. "you have heard this document read, norbanus," the notary said, when he had concluded the reading. "do you assent to it? and are you ready to affix your signature to the contract?" "i am ready," norbanus said. "and you, beric?" "i am also ready," beric replied. "then do you both write your signatures here." both signed, and four of the guests affixed their signatures as witnesses. norbanus then placed aemilia's hand in beric's. "you are now betrothed man and wife," he said. "i transfer to you, beric, my authority over my daughter; henceforth she is your property to claim as you will." a minute later there was a sudden movement at the door, and lesbia entered in haste. "news has just been brought to me of your intention, norbanus, and i am here to say that i will not permit this betrothal." "you have no voice or authority in the matter," norbanus said calmly. "legal right to interfere you never had. your moral right you have forfeited. the conditions have been signed. aemilia is betrothed to beric." lesbia broke out into passionate reproaches and threats, but norbanus advanced a step or two towards her, and said with quiet dignity, "i have borne with you for her sake, lesbia. now that she belongs to beric and not to me, i need not restrain my just indignation longer. i return your property to your hands." lesbia stepped back as if struck. the words were the well known formula by which a roman divorced his wife. she had not dreamed that norbanus would summon up resolution to put this disgrace upon her, and to bring upon himself the hostility of her family. her pride quickly came to her aid. "thanks for the release," she said sarcastically; "far too much of my life has already been wasted on a dotard, and my family will see that the restitution of my property is full and complete: but beware, norbanus, i am not to be outraged with impunity, and you will learn to your cost that a woman of my family knows how to revenge herself." then turning she passed out of the door, entered her lectica and was carried away. "i must apologize to you, my friends," norbanus said calmly, "for having brought you to be present at an unpleasant family scene, but i had not expected it, and know not through whom lesbia obtained the news of what was doing here. i suppose one of the slaves carried it to her. but these things trouble not a philosopher; for myself i marvel at my long patience, and feel rejoiced that at last i shall be free to live my own life." "you have done well, norbanus," one of his colleagues said, "though i know not what nero will say when he hears of it, for severity among husbands is not popular at present in rome." "i can open my veins as seneca did," norbanus said calmly; "neither death nor exile have any terrors for me. rome has gone mad, and life for a reasoning being is worthless here." "i shall represent the matter to nero," beric said, "and as it is seldom that i ask aught of him, i doubt not he will listen to me. when he is not personally concerned, nero desires to act justly, and moreover, i think that he can weigh the advantages of the friendship of a faithful guard against that of his boon companions. i will speak to him the first thing in the morning. he frequently comes into the library and reads for an hour. at any rate there is no chance of lesbia being beforehand with me. it is too late for her to see rufinus and get him to approach nero tonight." "let us talk of other matters," norbanus said, "all these things are but transitory." he then began to talk on his favourite topic--the religions of the world, while beric drew aemilia, who had been weeping since the scene between her parents, into the tablinum. "it is unlucky to weep on the day of your betrothal, aemilia." "who could help it, beric? besides, as it is not for my own troubles the omen will have no avail. but it is all so strange and so rapid. this morning i was in trouble, alarmed at what my mother told me of her intentions, fearful that my father, who has so long yielded to her, would permit her to have her own way in this also. then came the great joy when he told me that he would give me to you--that you, who of all men i thought most of, was henceforth to be my lord. then, just when my happiness was complete, and i was formally bound to you, came my mother. ennia and i always loved our father most, he was ever thoughtful and kind to us, while even as children our mother did not care for us. as we grew up she cared still less, thinking only of her own pleasures and friends, and leaving us almost wholly in charge of the slaves; but it was not until ennia was seized as a christian that i knew how little she loved us. then she raved and stormed, lamented and wept, not because of the fate of ennia, not because of the terrible death that awaited her, but because of the disgrace it brought upon herself. even after she was brought here she scarce came in to see her, and loudly said that it would be best for her to die. lately, as you know, i have seen little of her; she spends all her time abroad, has defied my father's authority; and brought grief and trouble upon him. still, to a daughter it is terrible that her mother should be divorced." "let us not think of it now, aemilia. your father has acted, as he always does, rightly and well. i know much more of what is going on than you do, and i can tell you that lesbia, who was so jealous of the honour of her name when ennia was concerned, is bringing far greater dishonour upon her name by her own actions. and now let us talk of ourselves. the act you have just done, dear, may bring all sorts of sacrifices upon you. at any moment i may be a fugitive, and, as you know, the families of those who incur nero's wrath share in their disgrace; and if i am forced to fly, you too may be obliged to become a fugitive." she looked up brightly. "i shall not mind any hardships i suffer for your sake, beric. rome is hateful to me since ennia stood in the arena. i would rather share a hut with you among the savage mountains of the north than a palace here." "i trust that trouble is still far distant, but i shall, as soon as i can, find a retreat where, in case i fall under nero's displeasure, you can lie hid until i can send for you." "i have such a retreat, beric. since ennia's death i have seen a good deal of the christians. lycoris, you know, was captured at the same time as ennia, and was put to death by fire; but her daughter, married to a freedman who had purchased her liberty from my father, managed to escape with her husband when the place was surrounded. i have met her several times since. she and her husband are living hidden in the catacombs, where she tells me many of their sect have taken refuge from the persecutions. "the last time i saw her she said to me, 'no one's life is safe in this terrible city, and none, however high in station, can say that they may not require refuge. should you need an asylum, aemilia, go to the house of a freedman, one mincius, living in the third house on the right of a street known as the narrow one, close behind the amphitheatre at the foot of the palatine hill, and knock thrice at the door. when they open, say, 'in the name of christ,' then they will take you in. tell them that you desire to see me, and that you are the sister of ennia, the daughter of norbanus, and they will lead you to us. there is an entrance to the catacombs under the house. as the sister of ennia you will be warmly received by all there, even although you yourself may not belong to us. the galleries and passages are of a vast extent and known only to us. there is no fear of pursuit there.'" "that is good news, aemilia; it is sad that, but an hour betrothed, we are forced to think of refuges, but it will be happiness to me to know that if danger threatens, you have a place of retreat. you see this ring; nero himself gave it me; mark it well, so that you may know it again. it is a figure of mercury carved on an amethyst. when you receive it, by night or day, tarry not a moment, but wrap yourself in a sombre mantle like that of a slave, and hie you to this refuge you speak of; but first see your father, tell him where you are going and why, so that he may fly too, if he choose." "he will not do that," aemilia said, "and how can i leave him?" "you must leave him because you belong to me, aemilia, and because you are acting on my orders. the danger to you is far greater than to him. you are my wife, he only my father in law, and they would strike at me first through you. besides, there are other reasons. your father is a roman of the old type, and like seneca and plautus, and others of the same school, will deem it no loss when the time comes to quit life. however, you will tell him of the danger, and he must make his own choice. i shall beg him to hand to you at once the money which i placed in his care now a year ago. do you hand it over to the woman you speak of, and ask her to hide it away in the caves till you ask for it again; these christians are to be trusted. i have much money besides, for nero is lavishly generous, and it would anger him to refuse his bounty. this money i have placed in several hands, some in rome, some elsewhere, so that if forced to fly i can at any rate obtain some of my store without having to run into danger." "one more question, beric. should i ever have to take refuge among the christians, and like ennia come to love their doctrines, would you be angered if i joined their sect? if you would i will not listen to them, but will tell them that i cannot talk or think of these things without my husband's consent." "you are free to do as you like, aemilia. since ennia died i have resolved upon the first opportunity to study the doctrines of these people, for truly it must be a wonderful religion that enables those who profess it to meet a cruel death not only without fear but with joy. you know ennia said we should meet again, and i think she meant that i, too, should become a christian. ask the woman if i also, as a last resource, may take refuge among them." "i will ask her, beric; but i am sure they will gladly receive you. have you not already risked your life to save a christian?" the other guests having now left, norbanus joined them, and beric told him of the arrangements they had made in case of danger. he warmly approved of them. "it will be a relief to me as to you, beric, to know that aemilia's safety is provided for. as for myself, fate has no terrors for me; but for you and her it is different. she is yours now, for although but betrothed she is virtually your wife. you have but to take her by the hand and to declare her your wife in the presence of witnesses, and all is done. there is, it is true, a religious ceremony in use only among the wealthier classes, but this is rather an occasion for pomp and feasting, and is by no means needful, especially as you have no faith in the roman gods. what are the rites among your own people, beric?" "we simply take a woman by the hand and declare her our wife. then there is feasting, and the bride is carried home, and there is the semblance of a fight, the members of her family making a show of preventing us; but this is no part of the actual rite, which is merely public assent on both sides. and now i must be going. nero will be feasting for a long time yet; but boduoc has been on guard for many hours and i must relieve him. farewell, norbanus; we have been preparing for the worst, but i trust we shall escape misfortune. farewell, my aemilia!" and kissing her tenderly beric strode away to the palace of nero. he had not seen boduoc since early morning, and the latter, standing on guard outside the private entrance to nero's apartments, greeted his arrival, "why, beric, i began to fear that some harm had befallen you. i came in this morning after the bath and found you had gone out. i returned again at six and found your chamber again empty, but saw that you had returned during my absence; i went on guard, and here have i been for four hours listening to all that foolish singing and laughter inside. how caesar, who has the world at his command, can spend his time with actors and buffoons, is more than i can understand. but what has kept you?" as there was no fear of his voice being heard through the heavy hangings, beric, to boduoc's intense surprise, related the events of the day. "so you have married a roman girl, beric! well, i suspected what would come of it when you spent half your time at the house of norbanus. i would rather that you had married one of our own maidens; but as i see no chance of our return to britain for years, if ever, one could hardly expect you to wait for that. at any rate she is the best of the roman maidens i have seen. she neither dyes her hair nor paints her face, and although she lacks stature, she is comely, and is always bright and pleasant when i have accompanied you there. i am inclined to feel half jealous that you have another to love you besides myself, but i will try and not grudge her a share of your affection." "well, hand me your sword, boduoc, and betake yourself to your bed. i will remain on guard for the next four hours, or until the feasting is over. nero often opens the hangings the last thing to see if we are watchful, and he likes to see me at my post. i wish to find him in a good temper in the morning." the next morning, to beric's satisfaction, nero came into the library early. chiton, as was his custom, retired at once. "i was inspired last night, beric," the emperor said. "listen to these verses i composed at the table;" and he recited some stanzas in praise of wine. "i am no great judge of these matters, caesar," beric said; "but they seem to me to be admirable indeed. how could it be otherwise, when even the greeks awarded you the crown for your recitations at their contests? yesterday was a fortunate day for me, also, caesar, for norbanus betrothed his daughter to me." the emperor's face clouded, and beric hastened to say: "there is no talk of marriage at present, caesar, for marriage would interfere with my duties to you. therefore it is only when you have no longer an occasion for my services that the betrothal will be converted into marriage. my first duty is to you, and i shall allow nothing to interfere with that." nero's face cleared. "that is right," he said graciously. "you might have married better, seeing that you enjoy my favour; but perhaps it is as well as it is. norbanus is a worthy man and a good official, although his ideas are old fashioned; but it is reported of him that he thinks of nothing but his work, and mixes himself up in no way in politics, living the life almost of a recluse. it was one of his daughters you championed in the arena. she died soon afterwards, i heard. has he other children?" "only the maiden i am betrothed to, caesar. he is now alone, for his wife has long been altogether separated from him, being devoted to gaiety and belonging to a family richer and more powerful than his, and looking down upon her husband as a mere bookworm. he has borne with her neglect and disobedience to his wishes for a long time, and has shown, as it seemed to me, far too great a weakness in exerting his authority; but his patience has at last failed, and when yesterday, in defiance of him, she would have interfered to prevent my betrothal to his daughter, he divorced her." "divorce is the fashion," nero said carelessly. "i know his wife lesbia, she has frequently been present with members of her family at my entertainments. she is a fine woman, and i wonder not that she and the recluse her husband did not get on well together. she will soon be consoled." "i have mentioned it to you, caesar, because she is a revengeful woman, and might cause rumours unfavourable to her husband to be reported to you. he is the most simple and single minded of men, and his thoughts are entirely occupied, as you say, with the duties of his office and with the learned book upon which he has long been engaged; but although a philosopher in his habits he holds aloof from all parties, and even in his own family never discusses public affairs. had it been otherwise, you may be sure that i, your majesty's attendant and guard, should have abstained from visiting his house." "i know this to be the case, beric. naturally, when i first placed you near my person, i was interested in knowing who were your intimates, and caused strict inquiries to be made as to the household of norbanus and his associates; all that i heard was favourable to him, and convinced me that he was in no way a dangerous person." nero left the room, and returned shortly bearing a casket. "give these jewels to your betrothed, beric, as a present from caesar to the wife of his faithful guard." beric thanked the emperor in becoming terms, and in the afternoon carried the jewels, which were of great value, to aemilia. "they are a fortune in themselves," he said; "in case of danger, take them from the casket and conceal them in your garments. no one could have been more cordial than nero was this morning; but he is fickle as the wind, and when rufinus and others of his boon companions obtain his ear his mood may change altogether." chapter xviii: the outbreak it was not long, indeed, before beric found that hostile influences were at work. nero was not less friendly in his manner, but he more than once spoke to him about aemilia. "i hear," he said one day, "that your betrothed is very beautiful beric." "she is very fair, caesar," beric replied coldly. "i know not how it is that i have not seen her at court," nero continued. "her tastes are like those of her father," beric said. "she goes but seldom abroad, and has long had the principal care of her father's household." "but you should bring her now," nero persisted. "the wife of one of the officials of the palace should have a place at our entertainments." "she is not at present my wife, caesar, she is but my betrothed; and as you have yourself excused me from attendance at all entertainments, it would be unseemly for her, a roman maiden, though betrothed to me, to appear there." "there are plenty of other roman maidens who appear there," nero said pettishly. beric made no reply, and the subject was not again alluded to at that time; but the emperor returned to it on other occasions, and beric at last was driven to refuse point blank. "i am your majesty's guard," he said. "i watch you at night as well as by day, and, as i have told your majesty, i cannot perform my duties properly if i have to be present at your entertainments. i should not permit my wife or my betrothed to be present in public unless i were by her side. your majesty took me for what i was, a simple briton, who could be relied upon as a guard, because i had neither friends nor family in rome, and was content to live a simple and quiet life. i am willing to abstain from marriage in order that i may still do my service as heretofore; but if i have to attend entertainments, you cannot rely upon my constant vigilance. it is for you to choose, caesar, whether you most require vigilant guards, who could be trusted as standing aloof from all, or the addition of two persons to the crowds you entertain. i am sure, caesar," he went on as the emperor made no reply, "it is not yourself who is now speaking to me; it is rufinus, formerly a suitor for the hand of the daughter of norbanus, who has been whispering into your ear and abusing the favour you show him. he dare not show his animosity to me openly, for one who has conquered a lion would make but short work of him. your majesty, i pray you, let not the word of men like this come between yourself and one you know to be faithful to you." "you are right, beric," nero said. "i will press you no farther; it was but a passing thought. i had heard of the beauty of your betrothed, and though i would see if she were as fair as report makes her; but since you do not wish it to be so, it shall not be spoken of again." but beric knew enough of nero to be aware that, like most weak men, he was obstinate, and that rufinus and his friends would not allow the matter to drop. every preparation was therefore made for sudden flight. aemilia was warned on no account to trust any message she might receive purporting to be from him, and the britons in the palace, who were heartily sick of their monotonous duty, were told to hold themselves in readiness for action. beric knew that he could depend on the slave who had been assigned to him as an attendant. he was not the man who had at first served him, and who, as beric doubted not, had acted as a spy upon him. when it was found that there was nothing to discover this man had been removed for other work, and a slave boy of some seventeen years old had taken his place. to him beric had behaved with great kindness, and the lad was deeply attached to him. he had several times taken notes and messages to the house of norbanus, and beric told aemilia that when it became necessary to send her the ring, he should probably intrust it to him. a week later boduoc was on guard at ten in the evening. in the distant banqueting hall he could hear sounds of laughter and revelry, and knowing the nature of these feasts he muttered angrily to himself that he, a briton, should be standing there while such things were being done within. suddenly he heard a step approaching the hangings. they were drawn back, and one of the court attendants said, "caesar requires the attendance of beric the briton in the banqueting hall." "i will tell him," boduoc said. "he will come directly." beric was sitting reading when boduoc entered and gave the message. "this means mischief, boduoc," he said. "i have never been sent for before to one of these foul carousals. philo, come hither!" the lad, who was lying on a mat by the door, rose. "philo, take this ring. follow me to the door of the banqueting room, and stand behind the hangings. if i say 'run, philo!' carry out the orders that i have before given you. speed first to the room where the britons sleep, and tell them to arm and come up by the private stairs to my room instantly. they know the way. they are then to pass on through the passage and the next room and wait behind the hangings, when boduoc will give them orders. directly you have given my message speed to the house of norbanus, and demand in my name to see the lady aemilia. if she has retired to her room she must be roused. if the slaves make difficulty, appeal to norbanus himself. he will fetch her down to you. give her this ring, and say the time has come." "i will do it, my lord. where am i to join you afterwards?" "i shall take the road to the alban hills first; i think that if you are speedy, you may be on the alban road before me. now follow me. boduoc, do you come as far as the hangings of the banqueting room, and stand there with philo. you will be able to hear what passes within. do not enter unless i call you. bring my sword with you." beric passed through two or three large apartments and then entered the banqueting room. it was ablaze with lights. a dozen men and as many women, in the scantiest costumes, lay on couches along each side of the table. all were crowned with chaplets of flowers, and were half covered with roses, of which showers had fallen from above upon them. nero lay on a couch at the end of the table; his features were flushed with wine. beric repressed the exclamation of indignant disgust that rose to his lips, and walking calmly up to nero said coldly, "i am told that you want me, caesar." "i do, my fighter of lions," nero said unsteadily. "i would see this paragon of whom rufinus tells me, whom you guard so jealously from my eyes. send and fetch her hither. she will be a worthy queen of our revels." "it is an honour to me to obey your majesty's commands in all matters that regard myself," beric said; "but in regard to my promised wife, no! this is no place for a roman lady; and even at the risk of your displeasure, caesar, i refuse to dishonour her by bringing her into such an assembly." "i told you he would refuse, caesar," rufinus, who was lying on the couch next to nero, laughed. nero was speechless with surprise and anger at beric's calm refusal to obey his orders. "do i understand," he said at last, "that you refuse to obey me?" "i do, caesar. it is not a lawful command, and i distinctly refuse to obey it." "then, by the gods, your life is forfeit!" nero said, rising to his feet. "you may thank your gods, caesar, that i have more sense of honour than you. were it otherwise, i would strike you dead at my feet. but a british chief disdains to fight an unarmed foe, and i who have eaten your bread and taken your wages am doubly bound not to lift my hand against you." then he lifted his voice and cried, "run, philo!" the revellers by this time had all started to their feet. nero, shrinking backwards behind them, called loudly for help. rufinus, who had shown bravery in the wars, drew a dagger from beneath his toga and sprang at beric. the latter caught his uplifted wrist, and with a sharp wrench forced him to drop the weapon; then he seized him in his grasp. "you shall do no more mischief, rufinus," he said, and raising him in his arms hurled him with tremendous force against a marble pillar, where he fell inert and lifeless, his skull being completely beaten in by the blow. the hall rang with the shrieks of women and the shouts of men. there was a sound of heavy footsteps, and eight of the praetorian guards, with drawn swords, ran in on the other side of the chamber. "boduoc!" beric shouted; and in a moment his follower stood beside him and handed him his sword and buckler. "kill him!" nero shouted frantically. "the traitor would have slain me." beric and boduoc stepped back to the door by which they had entered, and awaited the onset of the praetorians. for a moment these hesitated, for beric's figure was well known in the palace, and not one of them but had heard of his encounter with the lion. the emperor's shouts, however, overcame their reluctance, and shoulder to shoulder they rushed forward to the attack. two fell instantly, helmet and head cloven by the swords of the britons, who at once took the offensive and drove the others before them, slaying three more and putting the others to flight. but the success was temporary, for now a great body of the guard poured into the room. "step back through the doorway, boduoc," beric said; "their numbers will not avail them then." the doors were ten feet in width. this gave room to but three men to enter at once and use their arms to advantage, and for two or three minutes the britons kept the praetorians at bay, eight of them having fallen beneath their blows; then there was a shout, and the roman soldiers came running in at a door at the end of the chamber. "fall back to the next door," beric said; but as he spoke there was a rush behind, and nineteen britons ran into the room, and uttering the war cry of the iceni flung themselves upon the roman soldiers. these, taken by surprise at the sudden appearance of these tall warriors, and ignorant of what further reinforcements might be coming up, gave ground, and were speedily beaten back, a score of them falling beneath the britons' swords. "now retreat!" beric cried as the room was cleared; "retreat at full speed. show them the way, boduoc, by the staircase down into the garden. quick! there is not a moment to lose. i will guard the rear." they ran down the passage, through beric's room, down a long corridor, and then by stairs leading thence into the garden, which was indeed a park of considerable size, with lakes, shrubberies, and winding walks. the uproar in the palace was no longer heard by the time they were halfway across the park; but they ran at full speed until they reached a door in the wall. of this beric had some time before obtained a key from the head gardener, and always carried this about with him. as they stopped they looked back towards the palace. distant shouts could be heard, and the lights of numbers of torches could be seen spreading out in all directions. beric opened the door and locked it behind him when all had passed out. "now," he said to his companions, "make your way down to the road leading out to the alban hills. break up and go singly, so that you may not be noticed. it will be a good half hour before the news of what has occurred is known beyond the palace. do not pass through the frequented streets, but move along the dark lanes as much as possible. when half a mile beyond the city we will reunite." an hour later the whole party were gathered beyond the city. all were delighted to escape from what they considered slavery, and the fact that they had again bucklers on their arms and swords by their sides made them feel as if their freedom were already obtained. "this puts one in mind of old times," boduoc said joyously; "one might think we were about to start on an expedition in the fens. well, they have taught us all somewhat more than we knew before, and we will show them that the air of rome has robbed us of none of our strength. where go we now, beric?" "first to the ludus of scopus; i learned a week since that he had taken his band out again to the alban hills for the hot season. i believe that most of his men will join us, if not all. as soon as the news is spread that we are in arms we could, if we wished it, be joined by scores of gladiators from the other schools. there are hundreds who would, if the standard of revolt were raised, prefer dying fighting in the open to being slain to gratify a roman mob." "ay, that there are," put in another of the band. "i have never ceased to lament that i did not fall that day on our island in the fens." "think you there will be pursuit, beric?" another asked. "no; the first thought of nero will be to assemble all the praetorians for his protection; they will search the palace and the park, expecting attack rather than thinking of pursuit. in the morning, when they find that all is quiet, and that it is indeed only us with whom there is trouble, they will doubtless send parties of searchers over the country; but long before that we shall be a day's march ahead. my wish is to gain the mountains. i do not want to head a great rebellion against rome--disaster would surely come of it at last, and i should have only led men to their death. a hundred men is the outside number i will take. with that number we may live as outlaws among the mountains to the south; we could move so rapidly that large forces could not follow us, and be strong enough to repulse small ones. there is plenty of game among the hills, and we should live as we did at home, chiefly by hunting." just as they were approaching the hills a quick step was heard behind them, and the lad philo ran up. "ah, you have overtaken us, philo! 'tis well, lad, for your life would have been forfeited had you stayed in rome. "well," he asked, drawing him aside, "you saw the lady aemilia. what said she?" "she said, 'tell my lord that i obey, but that i pray him to let me join him and share his dangers if it be possible; but be it tomorrow or five years hence, he will find me waiting for him at the place he knows of.' norbanus was present when she spoke. i told him what i had heard in the banqueting room, and he said 'beric has done rightly. tell him that he has acted as a roman should do, but as romans no longer act, caring less for their honour than do the meanest slaves, and that i thank him for having thus defended my daughter against indignity.' he was glad, he said, that his life would end now, for it was a burden to him under such conditions. he gave me this bag of gold to bring to you, saying that he should have no farther need for it, and that, leaving in such haste, you would not have time to furnish yourself with money. it is heavy," the boy said. "i should have caught you some time earlier, but twenty or more pounds' weight makes a deal of difference in a long run." on arriving at the house of scopus beric bade the others wait without, and stepping over the slaves lying at the entrance, he went quietly to the sleeping chamber of the lanista. "who is this?" scopus asked as he entered. "it is i, beric; throw your mantle on and come outside with me, scopus. i would speak with you alone, and do not wish that all should know that i have been here." "in trouble?" scopus asked as they left the house. "ay, lad, i expected it, and knew that sooner or later it would come. what is it?" "nero ordered me to fetch aemilia to his foul carousal. i refused. rufinus, at whose instigation he acted, attacked me. i hurled him against a pillar, and methinks he was killed, and then nero, in alarm for his life, called in the praetorians. boduoc and my countrymen joined me, and we slew some thirty of them, and then made our escape, and are taking to the mountains." "and you have come to ask my gladiators to join?" scopus said shortly. "no," beric replied; "when i started i thought of so doing, but as i walked hither i decided otherwise. it would not be fair to you. did i ask them some would join, i know, others might not. the loss of their services i could make up to you; but if it were known that we had been here, and that some of your band had joined me, nero's vengeance would fall on you all." "i thank you, beric; if some went i must go myself, for i dare not remain, and though i wish you well, and hate the tyrant, i am well off and comfortable, and have no desire to throw away my life." "there is one i should like to take with me--porus; we were good friends when i was here, and i know that he hates this life and longs to be free from it. he would have run away and joined the gladiators when they rose at praeneste had i not dissuaded him. he could leave without the others knowing it, and in the morning you might affect a belief that he has run away, and give notice to the magistrate here and have him sought for. in that way there would be no suspicion of his having joined us. i know that he is valuable to you, being, i think, the best of your troop, but i will pay you whatever price you place his services at." "no, no," scopus said, "i will give him to you, beric, for the sake of our friendship, and for your consideration for me in not taking the rest with you. i have done well by you and him. stay here and i will fetch him out to you; it may be that many will desert both from me and the other lanistae when they hear that you have taken to the mountains, but for that i cannot be blamed. you have come far out of your way to come hither." "yes, 'tis a long detour, but it will matter little. we shall skirt round the foot of the hills, cross the lyris below praeneste, and then make straight to the mountains. they will not search for us in that direction, and we will take shelter in a wood when day breaks, and gain the mountains tomorrow night. once there we shall be safe, and shall move farther south to the wild hills between apulia and campania, or if it is too hot for us there, down into bruttium, whence we can, if it be needed, cross into sicily. i am not thinking of making war with rome. we intend to live and die as free men, and methinks that in the mountains we may laugh at the whole strength of rome." "you will find plenty of others in the same condition there, beric; escaped slaves and gladiators constantly make for the hills, and there have been many expeditions against the bands there, who are often strong enough to be a danger to the towns near the foot of the mountains." "we are not going to turn brigands," beric said; "there is game on the hills, and we are all hunters, and i have money enough to pay for all else we require did we live there for years. but fetch me porus. we must be far from here by daylight." porus soon came out, much surprised at being suddenly roused from sleep, and silently brought out of the house by scopus. as soon as beric explained to him what had happened, he joyfully agreed to join him, and stole in and fetched his arms. then with a hearty adieu to scopus beric placed himself at the head of his band and struck off by the road to praeneste. walking fast they arrived at the bank of the lyris before daybreak, crossed the river in a fisherman's boat they found on the bank, and just as daylight showed in the sky entered an extensive grove, having walked over forty miles since leaving rome. they slept during the day, taking it by turns to watch at the edge of the wood, and when it was again dark started afresh, and were, when morning broke, high up on the slopes of the apennines. "i feel a free man again now," boduoc said. "it does not seem to me that i have drawn a breath of fresh air since i entered rome; but fresh air, good as it is, beric, is not altogether satisfying, and i begin to feel that i have eaten nothing since i supped the day before yesterday." "we will push on for another hour," beric said, "and then we shall be fairly beyond the range of cultivation. at the last house we come to we will go in and purchase food. flour is the principal thing we need; we shall have no difficulty in getting goats from the herdsmen who pasture their animals among the hills." an hour later beric, with boduoc and two of his followers, went up to a farm house. the farmer and his servants ran into the house, raising cries of alarm at the sight of the four tall armed figures. "do not fear," beric said when he reached the door, "we are not brigands, but honest men, who desire to pay for what we need." somewhat reassured, the farmer came out. "what does my lord require?" he asked, impressed by a nearer view of beric's dress and arms. "how much flour have you in the house?" beric asked, "and what is the price of it?" the farmer had three sacks of flour. "i will take them all," beric said, "and three skins of wine if you have them. i would also buy two sheep if you name me a fair price for the whole." the farmer named a price not much above that which he would have obtained in the market, and beric also bought of him a number of small bags capable of containing some fifteen or twenty pounds of flour each. then one of the men fetched up the rest of the band; the flour was divided and packed in the small bags; the sheep were killed and cut up; three of the men lifted the wine skins on to their shoulders; the rest took the flour and meat, and they marched away, leaving the farmer and his family astounded at the appearance of these strange men with fair hair and blue eyes, and of stature that appeared to them gigantic. still ascending the mountain the band halted in a forest. wood was soon collected and a fire lighted. the contents of one of the bags was made into dough at a stream hard by, divided into cakes and placed on red hot ashes, while the meat was cut up and hung over the fire. "we have forgotten drinking horns," beric said, "but your steel cap, porus, will serve us for a drinking cup for today." after a hearty meal they lay down for some hours to sleep, and then resumed their march. they were getting well into the heart of the mountains when a figure suddenly appeared on a crag above them. "who are you?" he shouted, "and what do you here in the mountains?" "we are fugitives from the tyranny of rome," beric replied. "we mean harm to no man, but those who would meddle with us are likely to regret it." "you swear that you are fugitives," the man called back. "i swear," beric said, holding up his hand. the man turned round and spoke to someone behind him, and a moment later a party of fifteen men appeared on the crag and began to descend into the ravine up which beric's band were making their way. "it is the britons," the leader exclaimed as he neared them. "why, beric, is it you, tired already of the dignities of rome? how fares it with you, boduoc?" beric recognized at once a gaul, one of the gladiators of scopus, who had some months before fled from the ludus. in a minute the two bands met. most of the newcomers were gauls, and, like their leader, escaped gladiators, and as beric's name was well known to all they saluted him with acclamations. both parties were pleased at the meeting, for, akin by race and speaking dialects of the same language, they regarded each other as natural allies. "the life of an outlaw will be a change to you after nero's palace, beric," gatho, their leader, said. "a pleasant change," beric replied. "i have no taste for gilded chains. how do you fare here, gatho?" "there are plenty of wild boars among the mountains, and we can always get a goat when they are lacking. there are plenty of them wild all over the hills, escaped captives like ourselves. as for wine and flour, we have occasionally to make a raid on the villages." "i do not propose to do that," beric said; "i have money to buy what we require; and if we set the villagers against us, sooner or later they will lead the troops after us up the mountains." "i would gladly do that too, but the means are lacking. we owe the peasants no ill will, but one must live, you know." "have you any place you make your headquarters?" "an hour's march from hence; i will lead you to it." the united bands continued to climb the hills, and on emerging from the ravine gatho led them for some distance along the upper edge of a forest, and then turned up a narrow gorge in the hillside with a little rivulet running down it. the ravine widened out as they went up it, till they reached a spot where it formed a circular area of some hundred and fifty feet in diameter, surrounded on all sides by perpendicular rocks, with a tiny cascade a hundred feet in height falling into it at the farther end. some rough huts of boughs of trees were erected near the centre. "a good hiding place," beric said, "but i see no mode of retreat, and if a peasant were to lead a party of romans to the entrance you would be caught in a trap." "we have only been here ten days," gatho said, "and never stop long in one place; but it has the disadvantage you speak of. however, we have always one or two men posted lower down, at points where they can see any bodies of men ascending the hills. they brought us notice of your coming when you were far below, so you see we are not likely to be taken by surprise, and the roman soldiers are not fond of night marches among the mountains." as it was some hours since the britons had partaken of their meal they were quite ready to join the gauls in another, and the carcass of a wild boar hanging up near the huts was soon cut up and roasting over a fire, the britons contributing wine and flour to the meal. after it was over there was a long talk, and after consulting together gatho and his band unanimously agreed in asking beric to take command of the whole party. "we all know you, beric," gatho said. "none could like you have fought a lion barehanded, and i know that there was no one in the ludus who was your match with the sword, while boduoc and the other five were infinitely superior to any of us in strength. besides, you are well versed in roman ways, and have led an army against them, therefore we all are ready to accept you as our leader and to obey your orders if you will take us." "i will do so willingly, gatho. i do not wish to have more than fifty men with me, for it would be difficult to find subsistence for a larger number. a hundred is the outside number, and doubtless we shall be able to gather other recruits should we choose to raise the band to that number; but all who follow me must obey me as implicitly as did my own tribesmen in our struggle with the romans, and must swear to do no harm to innocent people, and to abstain from all violence and robbery. i am ready to be a leader of outlaws but not of brigands. i desire only to live a free life among the mountains. if the romans come against us we will fight against them, and the spoil we may take from them is lawful booty, to be used in exchange for such things as we may require. but with the peasants we will make friends, and if we treat them well they will bring us news of any expeditions that may be on foot for our capture. as i said i have money enough to buy everything we want at present, and can obtain more if necessary, so that there is no reason for us to rob these poor people of their goods. here we are too near rome for them to be disaffected, but further south we shall find them not unwilling to aid us, for the provinces are ground into the dust by the exactions necessary to pay for the cost of the rebuilding of rome and to support the extravagance of nero." the gauls cheerfully took the required oath. "you, gatho, will continue to act as my lieutenant with your gauls, boduoc commands the britons under me. it may be necessary at times for the band to divide, as when game is scarce we may find a difficulty in keeping together, especially if we recruit our band up to a hundred. i am determined to have no malefactors who have fled from justice nor riotous men among us. i should prefer that they should be chiefly your countrymen, but we will not refuse gladiators of other nations who have been captured as prisoners of war. we want no escaped slaves among us. a man who has once been a slave might try to buy his pardon and freedom by betraying us. we will be free men all, asking only to live in freedom among the mountains, injuring none, but determined to fight and die in defence of that freedom." these sentiments were warmly welcomed by the gauls. the next day the number of men on the lookout was increased, and the band, breaking up into small parties, scattered among the mountains in pursuit of wild boars and goats. some were to return, successful or not, at night to the encampment, and on the following day to take the place of those on watch, and relays were provided so that during the week each would take a turn at that duty. never did men enjoy a week's hunting with greater zest than the britons. to them life seemed to begin anew, and although the skies were bluer and the mountains higher and rougher than those of britain, it seemed to them that they were once again enjoying their native air, and of an evening rude chants of gaul and britain echoed among the rocks. porus, the syrian, stood somewhat apart from the rest, not understanding the tongue of the others, and he therefore became naturally the special companion of beric; for having been six years in rome he spoke latin fluently. "it is i who must go down to get you news, beric," he said one day. "you britons could not disguise yourselves, for even if you stained your cheeks and dyed your hair your blue eyes and your height would betray you at once. the gauls, too, though shorter than you, are still much taller and broader men than the romans, and there are none of them who speak the language well enough to ask a question without their foreign tongue being detected. i am about the height of the romans, and am swarthier than the gauls, and could, if i borrowed the dress of one of the goatherds, pass among them without notice. it would certainly be well, as you were saying, to know what is being done below, and whether there is any idea of sending troops up into the mountains to search for us. "you may be sure that after the scare you gave nero, and the defeat of his guards, the matter will not be allowed to drop, and that they will search all italy for you. i should think that, at first, they will seek for you in the north, thinking that you would be likely, after taking to the hills--which you would be sure to do, for such a party could never hope to traverse the plains unnoticed--to keep along the chain to the north, cross the cisalpine plains, and try the passage of the great mountains." "at any rate it will be well, porus, to know what they are doing. if they are at present confining their search to the northern range we can stay where we are with confidence. i should be sorry to move, for we are well placed here; there is good water and game is abundant. we certainly shall soon lack wine, but for everything else we can manage. we have meat in abundance, and have flour to last for some time, for both we and the gauls eat but little bread; besides, if pushed, we can do as the peasants do, pound up acorns and beechnuts and make a sort of bread of them." "very well, beric, i will go down tomorrow." early in the morning, however, two of the men on sentry came in and said that they observed the glitter of the sun on spearhead and armour far down the hillside. "if they are after us," beric said, "as i expect they are, they have doubtless learned that we are somewhere in this part of the mountains from the man of whom we bought the wine and flour. i don't suppose he intended to do us harm, but when he went down to purchase fresh supplies he may well have mentioned that a party of strong men of unusual height, and with fair hair, had bought up his stock, paying for it honestly, which would perhaps surprise him more than anything. if the news had come to the ears of any of the officials, they, knowing the hue and cry which was being made for us, would have sent word at once to praeneste or rome. we must at once recall those who are away. philo, take a couple of brands and go and light the signal fire." a pile of dry wood had been placed in readiness upon a projecting rock a mile away and standing in position where it was visible from a considerable extent of the hillside. it had been settled that the parties of hunters who did not return at nightfall should occasionally send one of their number to a point whence he could get a view of the beacon. "directly the pile is well alight, philo, pluck up green bushes and tufts of grass and throw upon it, so as to make as much smoke as possible." there were eighteen men in the encampment, and four out on guard. boduoc and gatho were both away, and as soon as philo had started with the brands beric and porus set out with the two scouts. "that was where we saw them," one of them said, pointing far down the hillside, "but by this time they will no doubt have entered the wooded belt." "we must find out something about their numbers," beric said. "not that i wish to fight; for were we to inflict losses upon them they would more than ever make efforts to overtake us. still, it will be as well to know what force they may think sufficient to capture us." "i will go down through the forest," porus said, "doubtless they will have some light armed troops with the spearmen; but they must be fleet indeed if they overtake me after all my training." "do not let them see you if you can help it, porus, or they will follow close behind you, although they might not overtake you, and that might bring on a fight." "i will be careful;" and leaving his buckler behind him, porus started on his way down the mountain. in an hour and a half he returned. "i have had a good view of them," he said; "they have halted at the place where we got the flour. there are a hundred heavy armed troops and a hundred archers and slingers." "they have come in strength," beric said; "it shows that they do not hold the britons cheaply. we will return at once to the camp. by this time the hunters should be back." sending one of the men to call in the other sentries, they returned to the huts. boduoc, with a party of ten men, had already come in, and said that they had seen gatho's party making their way down from a point high up in the mountains. "we will pause no longer," beric said, "we shall meet them as they descend; take the flour and what little wine remains, and let us be going. scatter the fire and extinguish the brands; unless they have found some goatherd who has marked us coming and going, they may not find this place. i hope they will not do so, as it would encourage them by the thought that they had nearly captured us." the party had ascended the mountain half a mile when they met gatho returning. "i like not to retreat without fighting," he said, when he had heard from beric of the coming of the romans and their force; "but i agree with you that it is better not to anger them farther." "i want three of the fleetest footed of your men, gatho, to stay behind with porus and watch them, themselves unseen. we will cross over the crest of the hills to the eastern side, porus. do you mark that tall craig near the summit; you will find one of us there, and he will lead you to our camping place. i want to know whether the romans, after spending the day searching the hills, go back through the forest, or whether they encamp here. in the one case we can return, in the other it will be better to move south at once. we could laugh at their heavy armed spearmen, but their archers and slingers carry no more weight than we do, and would harass us sorely with their missiles, which we have no means of returning." as soon as the men to remain with porus were chosen, the rest of the band proceeded on their way. chapter xix: outlaws it was late at night before porus with the three gauls joined the rest of the band in their new encampment on the eastern slope of the hills. "as soon as the moon rises, beric, we must be up and moving. the romans are in earnest. when they came through the forest they ascended for some little distance, and then the spearmen halted and the light armed troops scattered in parties of four searching the country like dogs after game. they were not very long before they discovered signs of us, whether footmarks or broken twigs i know not, but following them they soon came upon the entrance of the ravine. no doubt our marks were plain enough there, for the spearmen were brought down. what happened then i know not; no doubt they entered and found that we had gone. at any rate, in a short time they set out briskly up the mountain, the spearmen as before keeping together, and the light armed men scattering. "all day they searched, and it was well that you crossed the crest. they halted for the night halfway between the forest and the summit, and i determined to learn something of their intentions. so after it was dark i laid aside my arms and crawled into the camp. the ground was broken and rough, and there was no great difficulty in getting close to their fires. i learned that the whole of the legion at praeneste had been sent into the mountains, and that there were twenty parties of equal force; they were but a mile and a half apart, and considered that they could search every foot of the ground for thirty miles along, and would assuredly discover us if we were still in this part. more than that, troops from corfinium and marrubium had started to search the eastern slopes, and between them they made sure that they should catch you, now that they had found, by the heat of the earth where our fire had been, that we must have been there but an hour or so before their arrival." "if that is the case we must make our way to the south at once," beric said. "it is well indeed that we decided to retreat without fighting, for had we retired, closely pursued by their archers, their shouts would certainly have been heard by some of the other parties. it is fortunate we did not light a fire; had we done so it might have brought some of the troops from marrubium, which cannot be far distant from here, upon us. the moon will not be up for three hours yet, and it is useless to try to make our way among these mountains until we have her light, therefore let all lie down to sleep; i will keep guard and will rouse you when it is time to move." beric sat listening intently for any sound that would tell of the approach of foemen. he had, however, but small fear that the romans were moving at present. it would be even more difficult for them than for his men to make their way about in the darkness; besides, the day must have been an extremely fatiguing one for them. they had, doubtless, started long before dawn, had had to climb the mountains, and had been all day on their feet. they would scarcely recommence the search before morning. easy on this score, his thoughts turned to rome. that aemilia had gained the shelter of the catacombs he had no doubt, and he wondered how she fared there among the christian fugitives. as to norbanus he had but slight hopes of ever seeing him alive. nero's vengeance always extended to the families of those who offended him, and norbanus would certainly be held responsible for the flight of aemilia. he thought it indeed probable that as soon as aemilia left, norbanus would have called his friends together, and, having opened his veins, would die as piso had done discussing philosophy with them. as soon as the moon was fairly up he aroused his companions and they started along the hillside. it was difficult work making their way on, now descending into a deep ravine, now climbing a rugged slope, now passing along a bare shoulder. there was no pause until day broke, when they descended into a gorge and lay down among some clumps of bushes, one man being sent half a mile down while two others were posted on each side of the ravine. they had good reason for hope, however, that they had got beyond the point to which the searching parties would extend on the eastern side of the hill. the day passed without alarms, although the sentries above more than once heard the sounds of distant trumpets. as soon as the sun set they continued their way, halting again until the moon rose, and then keeping south until daybreak. they were sure now that they were far beyond the parties of romans, but after a few hours' sleep they again pressed on, and at night lighted their fires and prepared for a longer stay. but the orders of nero were so imperative that the troops, having thoroughly searched the mountains at the point where they had ascended them, united, and also moved south in a long line extending from the summit of the hills to the lower edge of the forest; and after two days' halt the fugitives again moved south, and continued their journey until they found themselves among the wild and lofty hills of bruttium. but their numbers had swollen as they went, for the other fugitive bands among the hills were also driven south by the advance of the romans, and it was a miscellaneous body of gladiators, escaped slaves, and malefactors, in all over five hundred strong, that crossed the mountains into bruttium. there was a general wish among them that beric should take the command of the whole. this, however, he absolutely declined to do, upon the ground that it was impossible for so large a body of men to keep together, as there would be no means of feeding them. scattered about they would find an ample supply of meat from the wild goats, boars and semi-wild swine, but together, they would soon scare away the game. from among the gladiators, however, he picked out sufficient men to raise his own force to a hundred strong, and separating from the rest he led them, guided by a charcoal burner, to one of the wildest and most inaccessible points in the promontory. here they were safe from pursuit. bruttium, now called calabria, is a chain of rugged hills, at that time thickly covered with wood, and although it was possible fairly to search the apennines in the centre of italy with six or seven thousand men, a large army would fail to find a band of fugitives in the recesses of the mountains of the south. on the evening of their arrival at the spot they determined to make their headquarters, beric held a sort of council of war, the whole of the band, as was the custom both in gaul and britain, joining in the deliberations. "so far," beric began, "we have retreated without fighting; rome cannot complain that we have been in insurrection against her, we have simply acted as fugitives; but as there is nowhere else whither we can retire, we must turn upon them if they again pursue us. we must then regard this as our abode for a long time, and make ourselves as comfortable as we can. huts we can erect of the branches of trees, the skins of the goats we kill will provide us with bedding, and if needs be with clothing. meat will not fail us, for should game become scarce we can buy goats and sheep from the shepherds who come up with their flocks and herds from the villages by the sea. but besides this we need many things for comfort. we must have utensils for cooking, and drinking cups, and shall need flour and wine; we must therefore open communications with one of the towns by the sea. this is the great difficulty, because of all things i fear treachery; for nigh a year we fought the romans at home, and could have fought them for twenty more had we not been betrayed and surrounded. "of that there will always be a danger. i have gold, and shall always pay for what we require; but the other bands among these hills will not be so scrupulous, and as, indeed, they will be forced to take food, they will set the inhabitants against us, and the romans will have no difficulty in finding guides among them. so long as we keep ourselves far apart from the rest we are comparatively safe; but none of the natives must know of our hiding place. can anyone propose a good plan for obtaining supplies?" there was silence for some time. these men were all good for fighting, but few of them had heads to plan. at last porus said: "we are, as our guide tells me, but two hours' journey from the hills whence we may look down upon the gulf dividing bruttium from sicily. the lower slopes of these hills are, he says, closely cultivated. there are many small villages some distance up on their sides, and solitary farms well nigh up to the crest. it seems to me that we should use one of these farmers as our agent. he must be a man with a wife and family, and these would be hostages. if we told him that if he did our bidding he would be well rewarded, while if unfaithful we would destroy his farmhouse and slay his wife and children, i think we might trust him. two or three of us could go down with him to the town on the seashore, dressed as men working under him, and help bring up the goods he purchases. the quantity might excite suspicion did he always go to the same place for them, but he need not always do this. if we found it impossible to get enough by means of one man, we might carry out this plan with three or four of them. none of these men need know the direction of our camp; it would suffice that the wine and flour were brought to their houses. we could always send a strong party to fetch them thence as we require them." "i do not think we can hit on any better plan, porus;" and as there was a murmur of assent he continued: "i propose, my friends, that we appoint porus the head of our victualling department, and leave the arrangements to him entirely." this point was settled. the next morning porus, taking three of the gladiators who most resembled the natives in appearance, started on his mission. he was completely successful. the farmers on the upper slopes of the hills lived in terror of the banditti among the mountains, and one was readily induced, by the offer of a reward for his service, and of freedom from all molestation, to undertake the business of getting up corn and wine. henceforth supplies of these articles were obtained regularly. huts were soon erected; the men were divided into hunting parties, and the life of the fugitives passed quietly, and for a time without incident. the persons with whom beric had deposited his money had all been chosen for him by norbanus. he himself had been too long away from italy to be acquainted with any outside the walls of rome; but among his friends there were several who were able to recommend men of property and character to whom the money could be committed with the certainty that it would be forthcoming whenever demanded. at present beric was amply supplied with funds, for the money that norbanus had sent to him would last for at least a year; but, four months after reaching bruttium, he thought it would be as well to warn those in whose charge his own stores had been placed, to hold it in readiness by them in case it should be suddenly asked for. philo seemed to him the only person he could send on such a mission, and upon the more important one of going to rome and communicating with aemilia. he was certain of the fidelity of the lad, and, properly disguised, he was less likely to be recognized in rome than porus would be. clothes such as would be worn by the son of a well to do cultivator were obtained for him, and he was directed to take the road along the coast to rome, putting up at inns in the towns, and giving out that he was on his way to the capital to arrange for the purchase of a farm adjoining that of his father. letters were given him to the persons holding beric's money; and one for the goldsmith in rome, with whom a portion of the money he had given for the jewellery that beric had received at the games was still deposited. this letter was not to be delivered until he had been to the catacombs and seen aemilia; as, although scopus had spoken very highly of the man, it was possible that he might, to gain favour with nero, hand over beric's messenger to him. beric fully impressed upon philo the risks he would run, and told him to make all his calls after nightfall, and to be prepared for instant flight if he mistrusted the manner of any of the men he visited. "do not be afraid, beric," philo said; "i will not be taken alive. i know that they would torture me to force me to lead them to your hiding place, and i would rather die a thousand times first. i was but a slave when i was allotted to you in the palace of nero. you have been kind to me, and trusted me. you have allowed me to go with you, and have behaved to me as if i had been free and one of your own people. i have my dagger, and if i see that evil is intended me i will not wait until they lay hands on me, for then my blow might fail, but will make sure. but before i start give me full instructions what i am to say to the lady aemilia; for however fully you may write, she will be sure to want to know more, and, above all, instruct me what to do if she demands to join you, and commands me to bring her here. this, methinks, she is sure to do, and i must have your instructions in the matter." "i shall tell her in my letter, philo, that this is no place for her, and that i cannot possibly have her here, among rough men, where, at any moment, we may be called upon to make distant and toilsome journeys, and even to fight for our lives." "that is all very well, my lord; but suppose she says to me it is only because beric thinks that i cannot support fatigue and hardship that he does not send for me; but i am willing and ready to do so, and i charge you, therefore, to take me to him." this was a point that beric had many times thought over deeply. he, too, felt sure that aemilia would choose to be with him; and accustomed as the britons were for their wives to share their perils, and to journey with them when they went on warlike expeditions, it seemed to him that she had almost a right to be with him. then, too, her life must be dreary in the extreme, shut up in caverns where the light of day never penetrated, in ignorance of his fate, and cut off from all kinsfolk and friends. the question so puzzled him that he finally took porus into his confidence, having a high idea of his good sense. "she cannot come here," porus agreed; "but i do not see why you should not bring her from that dismal place where you say she is, and establish her near at hand, either at one of the upper farmhouses, or in a town by the sea. let me think it over. in an hour i will tell you what seems to me the best plan. my counsel is this," he said, after he had been absent for an hour from the hut, "i myself will go with the lad to fetch her. a roman lady, even though a fugitive, should not be travelling about the country under the protection of a lad. i dare not go into rome. i am known to too many of the gladiators, and, disguise myself as i might, i should be recognized before i had been there an hour. i will obtain a dress such as would suit a respectable merchant; i will go down to one of the ports below and take passage in a trading craft bound for ostia. there i will take lodgings, and giving out that my daughter, who has been staying with friends for her education in rome, is about to return to messina with me, will purchase two or three female slaves. when she arrives with philo, who can pass as her brother and my son, we will take ship and come down hither. i can then bring her up and place her in the house of one of the farmers; or can, if you like, take a house in the town, or lodge her there with people to whom one of the farmers might recommend her. but, at any rate, she could come up to one of the farm houses first, to see you, and then you could arrange matters between you. she would really run no danger. you say she went out but little in rome, and it would be ill luck indeed were there anyone on this coast who met her there. if it were not for your preposterous height, your yellow hair and blue eyes, there would be no difficulty about the matter at all, for you would have but to cross the straits into sicily, to buy a small property there, and to settle down quietly; but it is impossible with your appearance to pass as one of the latin race." "besides," beric said, "i could not desert my comrades. whatever their lot may be, mine must be also. if we are ever to escape, we must escape together; but for the rest, i think your plan is a good one, porus, and thank you heartily. when you get to ostia you will learn all that is going on in rome, what has befallen norbanus, and other matters. if norbanus is alive, aemilia will certainly be in communication with him by means of the christians, and will, of course, be guided by his advice." the next day porus and philo set out together. three weeks passed, and then one morning philo entered the camp. "all has gone well, my lord, the lady aemilia is at the house of the farmer cornelius, with whom porus arranged to receive her on the morning we left you. she has sent no letter, for there were no writing materials in the house, but she awaits your coming." beric hastened away at once, accompanied by the lad, who by the way gave an account of his journey. "it was as i thought," he said. "when i came to the house you told me of, i knocked as you instructed me, gave the ring to the man within and begged him to take it to the lady aemilia. he at first pretended that he knew nothing of such a person; but at last, on my showing him the letter addressed to her, he said that some friends of his might know where she was, and that if i called again, two hours before midnight, he might have news of her. when i came back the lady aemilia was there. she asked many questions about your health before she opened your letter, the one that you first wrote to her. when she had read it she said, 'my lord bids me stay here, philo, and i am, above all things, bound to obey him; but he says that he bids me remain, because the hardships would be too great for me. but i know that i could support any hardships; and kind as they are to me here, i would rather go through anything with my husband than remain here; the darkness and the silence are more trying than any hardships. so you see that my lord's orders were given under a misapprehension, and as i am sure he would not have given them had he known that i was not afraid of hardships, and desired above all things to be with him, i shall disobey them, and he, when i join him, must decide whether i have done wrong, and, if he thinks so, send me away from him." "then, my lord, seeing that it was so, i gave her your second letter, in which you said that if she wished to join you you had made arrangements for her doing so. then she kissed the letter and cried over it, and said that she was ready to depart when i came to fetch her. then she told me that norbanus had opened his veins that night after she had left, and that the soldiers of nero arrived just too late to trouble him; that all his property had been confiscated, and that she had no friends in the world but you. "it took a week for porus to obtain two suitable slaves--the one an elderly woman and the other a young servant. "the goldsmith handed over your money to me at once, saying, 'i am glad to hear that beric is alive. tell him that he did badly in not slaying the tyrant when he had him at his mercy. tell him, too, there are rumours of deep discontent among the legions in the provinces, and a general hope among the better class of romans that they will ere long proclaim a new emperor and overthrow nero. tell him also to be on his guard. there is a talk of an expedition on a large scale, to root out those who are gathered in the mountains of bruttium. it is said that it is to be commanded by caius muro, who but a week ago returned from syria.'" "is it so?" beric exclaimed. "i know him well, having lived in his house for years. i should be sorry indeed that we should meet as enemies. heard you aught of his daughter?" "not from the goldsmith, but afterwards. she is married, i hear, to pollio, who is of the family of norbanus." "i am indeed glad to hear it, philo. he also was a great friend of mine, and as he knew muro in britain, would doubtless have sought him out in syria, where he, too, held an office. 'tis strange indeed that he should have married berenice, whom i last saw as a girl, now fully four years back. and all went well on the voyage?" "well indeed, my lord. i took the lady aemilia down to ostia in a carriage with closed curtains. she stayed two days in the place porus had hired, and none suspected on the voyage that she was other than his daughter." "and how is she looking, philo?" "at first, my lord, she was looking strangely white, and i feared that her health had suffered; but she said that it was dwelling in the darkness that had so whitened her, and indeed the sun during the voyage has brought the colour back to her cheeks, and she is now looking as she used to do when i carried letters to the house from nero's palace." once arrived at the brow of the hill, looking down upon the straits of messina, beric's impatience could be no longer restrained, and he descended the slope with leaps and bounds that left philo far behind. porus was at the door of the farm; beric grasped his hand. "she is in there," he said, pointing to a door, and a moment later aemilia fell into his arms. in half an hour the door opened. "come in, porus and philo," beric called. "i must first thank you, both in my own name and that of my betrothed, for the great service you have rendered us, and the care and kindness with which you have watched over her. we have settled nothing yet about the future, except that tomorrow i shall complete the betrothal, and she will become my wife. it should be done today, but my faithful boduoc must be here as a witness. it would be a disappointment indeed to him were he not to be present at my marriage. for the present, at any rate, my wife will remain here. "she would fain go up into the mountains, but that cannot be. not only is our life too rough for her, but her presence there would greatly add to my anxieties. here she will be safe, and you, philo, will remain with her. i am convinced that i can trust cornelius. you have told me, porus, that you are assured of his honesty, and as i can pay him well, and he can have no idea that the romans would be glad to pay a far higher sum for my capture, he has no temptation to be unfaithful to us; besides, his face is a frank and open one. i shall charge him that, while aemilia remains here, none of his men are to accompany him when he goes down to the port, for, without meaning harm, they might talk to people there of what is going on, and the matter might come to the ears of the authorities." "i think," porus said, "it would be well, beric, that i and the three men who go down with me to bring up goods should take up our residence here. there is an out house which is unused, and which we can occupy. in this way we can keep an eye upon the two men on the farm, and one can be always on the watch to see that no party of armed men is coming up from the port. i believe in the good faith of the farmer, but it is always better to take precautions." "far better, porus. the plan you suggest is an excellent one. we must try and make this chamber a little more fitting for aemilia's abode." "that will soon be done," porus said. "knowing what your wishes would be in such a matter, i purchased at ostia sufficient stuff to cover these bare walls, with rugs and such furniture as was requisite. these i brought up in a cart as far as the road extends, and i will now go down with philo and the two men and bring them up here and help the slaves get the room in order." before sunset beric returned alone to the camp, and the next morning came back to the farm with boduoc. "there is one thing i must tell you, beric," aemilia said when he went in alone to see her, "i have become a christian." "i thought it was likely you would do so, aemilia," he said; "living among these people, and knowing how ennia had embraced their religion, it could hardly be otherwise. you shall tell me about it afterwards. i know but little of its tenets, but i know how those who held them faced death, and there must be much indeed in a religion which teaches men so to die." "you told me that you would not object, beric, or i would have abstained from attending their assemblies. still, it was right i should tell you before i became your wife." porus and his companion had spent the morning in gathering flowers. these the slaves had made into wreaths and had decorated the room, which was completely changed in appearance since beric left it on the afternoon before. the roughly built walls were hidden by rich hangings. the floor was covered with matting, on which were placed thick rugs woven in the east. two or three carved couches were placed against the walls, and as many small tables on tripod legs stood beside them. the farmer and his wife were called in, and in their presence and that of his three followers beric performed the simple ceremony of a roman marriage, consisting only of taking aemilia's hand in his and declaring that, in conformity with the conditions of the pact before made and signed, and with the full consent and authorization of her father, he took her to be his wife. beric remained three days down at the cottage, and then rejoined his band. a few days later a messenger came in from one of the bands at the other side of the promontory of bruttium, saying they had obtained news that preparations were being made at sybaris for the landing of a very large body of troops, and that it was said to be the intention of the romans to make a great expedition through the mountains and entirely exterminate the outlaws. "they would have left us alone," beric said bitterly, "if it had not been that you made yourselves scourges to the country, pillaging and ravaging the villages among the hills and slaying innocent people." "we were obliged to live," the man said. "rome has driven us into the mountains, and we must feed at the expense of rome." beric was silent. he felt that had he himself not had means his own bands would have also taken to pillage. the men who took to the hills regarded themselves as at war with rome. rome sent her soldiers against them, and slew every man captured. she hunted them like wild beasts, and as wild beasts they had to live at her expense. beric was not in advance of the spirit of his time. it was the custom in war to burn, destroy, and slay. that as rome warred with them they should war with rome seemed natural to every fugitive in the hills, and they regarded their leader's action in purchasing what he could have taken by force simply as an act of policy. their own people had been slain by the romans, they themselves doomed to risk their lives for the amusement of the roman mob. if recaptured they would, like the followers of spartacus, be doubtless put to death by crucifixion. that, under these circumstances, they should be in the slightest degree influenced by any feeling of pity or humanity towards romans would, if suggested to them, have appeared supremely ridiculous. beric felt, then, that for him to say any further word of blame would only have the effect of causing him to be regarded with suspicion and dislike, and would lessen his own influence among the mountain bands. he therefore said, "that you should take what is necessary is not blamable, against it i have nothing to say; but it was to the interest of all of us that nothing more should be taken. rome would not have been stirred to send an army against us merely by the complaints of peasants that some of their goats and sheep had been driven off or their granaries emptied; but when it comes to burning villages and slaughtering their inhabitants, and carrying fire and sword down to the seashore, rome was roused. she felt her majesty insulted, and now we are going to have a veritable army invade the mountains. it is no longer viewed as an affair of brigands, but as an insurrection. however, there is no more to be said, the mischief is done, and we have now only to do our best to repel the invasion. tell your leaders that tomorrow morning i will set out and join them, and will with them examine the country, mark the lines by which the enemy are likely to advance, decide where obstacles had best be erected, and where the first stand should be made. it may be weeks yet before they come. roman armies are not moved as quickly as a tribe of mountaineers." the following day beric, taking with him the greater portion of his band, marched across the hills under the guidance of the charcoal burner, who had now enrolled himself regularly in its ranks, and had taken the oath of obedience. their course lay to the northeast, as it was in the bay of tarentum that rumour reported that the romans would land. as, after two days' marching, they neared the spot fixed upon for the rendezvous, they came upon other bands journeying in the same direction; and when these united on a shoulder of the hill commanding a view of the great bay, some eight hundred men were assembled. fires had been already lighted, and a number of sheep killed and roasted. the leaders withdrew from the rest as soon as they had finished their meal, and seating themselves at a point whence they could see the plains stretching away from the foot of the hills to the gulf, began their consultation. "i wonder why they are coming round here?" one of the chiefs said; "they might have landed at rhegium in the straits, and thence marched straight up into the hills. from where your camp is, beric, you should know what is going on there, for the town stands almost below you. is nought said there about military preparations?" "nothing whatever," beric replied; "nor do i think it likely that they will attack from that point, for if they advanced thence, we should simply retire through the mountains to the north just as we retired south when they before attacked us. it is clear what their object is: they will sail up that river and will disembark at cosenza; the hills narrow there, and it is but a short distance across them to the western sea. ascending them they will at once cut us off from any retreat north. they will have their magazines close at hand. a thousand men stationed in a chain across the mountains will suffice to bar our way, while the rest will move south, penning us up as they go, until they drive us down to the very edge of the promontory, where, joined perhaps by a force coming up from rhegium, they will have us altogether in their grip." an expression of dismay spread round the circle. they had thought that the romans would but march straight through the mountains, in which case it would be easy to evade them, but they saw at once that by the erection of a chain of permanent posts across the hill from cosenza they would be completely hemmed in, and must sooner or later be hunted down. "then you think that our only chance is to move to the mountains north of cosenza before they land, beric?" "i do not say that," beric replied. "to begin with, we are not going to remain passive and allow ourselves to be driven like a flock of sheep into the hurdles. did they bring against us only heavy armed troops we could laugh at them, for we can march two miles to their one, and move easily among the rocks where they could find no footing. it is only their light armed soldiers we have to fear, but even these must move at the same rate as the hoplites, for if they ventured far away from the protection of the spearmen we should make short work of them. we have over a thousand fighting men in these mountains, and each one of us in close conflict is a match for at least three of their light armed men. in the plains, of course, we should suffer greatly from their missiles before we came to a close conflict; but among these woods and precipices we could fall on them suddenly, and be in their midst before they have time to lay arrow to bow. therefore, you see, the romans can move but slowly among the hills, and we will soon teach them that they dare not scatter, and even twelve thousand men do not go for much among these mountains, extending some seventy miles from cosenza to rhegium, and from ten to twenty miles across. "how about food?" one of the others asked. "in that respect we shall be far better off than they would. we shall really have no difficulty about food. it would need twenty legions to form a cordon along the slopes of these hills on both sides, and we can, while opposing the romans, always detach parties to make forays down into the plain and drive off sheep, goats, and cattle. besides, among the lower forests there are herds of swine pasturing, which will be available for our use. the question of food will be of no trouble to us, but on the other hand, it will be a vast trouble to the romans. every foot that they advance from their magazines at cosenza their difficulties will increase. they must make roads as they go, and their convoys will always be exposed to our attacks. very large bodies of men must otherwise be employed in escorting them. they may form depots at the foot of the hills as they advance, but even then their difficulties will be prodigious. "i should propose to fight them as we fought them in the swamps of my native land--to harass them night and day, to wear them out with false alarms, to oppose them in the defiles, to hurl down the rocks on them from precipices, to cut off their convoys, and fall upon their camps at night, until they lose all confidence in themselves, and dare only move hither and thither in a solid body. not until they have destroyed the whole of the forests between cosenza and rhegium, and made roads everywhere across the mountains, ought they be able to overcome us. it will be time enough to think of retiring then. by descending the western slopes a long night march would take us north of cosenza, and we could then take to the hills again; or we could descend upon the coast near rhegium at night, seize a fishing village, embark in its boats and cross the strait, and before morning be among the mountains of sicily, which are so vast and far stretching that operations which, though possible, are difficult here, could not probably be carried on against us." beric's words were received with enthusiastic approval. before all had felt dispirited, and though ready to fight to the last, had deemed that the resistance could be but short and their fate certain. now they saw before them a veritable war, in which they could hope to defend themselves successfully, and if beaten here escape to renew it elsewhere, and which promised them an abundant opportunity for encountering the romans. this was what they most longed for. not one there but hated rome with a bitter hatred, as the author of unnumbered woes to their tribes, their families and themselves. death had no terrors whatever to these men, so that they could die fighting with romans. rising to their feet they returned with exulting shouts to their comrades. chapter xx: mountain warfare the gladiators sprang to their feet as their leaders returned to them, and eagerly questioned them as to the news that had so reanimated them. but they only replied, "beric will tell you," and beric was obliged to mount a rock near the spot where they had been feasting, and to repeat to the whole of the assembly his plan for the campaign against the romans. loud shouts greeted his speech, the gauls and britons clashing their swords against their shields as was their custom, and the others signified their approval each after the manner of his country. "beric is our leader! beric is our leader!" they shouted. "we will follow him to the death." when the tumult had subsided, beric raised his hand for silence. "i am willing to accept the leadership," he said; "but if i must lead i must be obeyed. in a warfare like this everything depends upon the orders of him who commands being carried out promptly and without question. i only accept the command because, although younger than most of you, i have already fought the romans often and successfully. each of you will remain under your respective chiefs, who will act as my lieutenants, and all must be ready to sacrifice their own wishes and their own opinions to the general welfare. those whom i order to fight will fight, i know; those whom i tell off to fell trees, to raise obstacles, or to pile stones on the edge of precipices, must labour with equal zeal; while those who are despatched to drive up cattle, or to guard them until needed in the forest, will know that their turn for active fighting will come in good time. the man who disobeys me dies. "it is only by acting as one man and under one leader that we can hope to resist successfully. you are free men, and may consider it humiliating thus to obey the orders of another; but the romans are free men too, and yet they submit to the severest discipline, and without the slightest question obey the orders of their general. so it must be here. if all are disposed thus to follow me i accept the command. let those who cannot so submit themselves withdraw and fight in their own fashion. they shall be free to depart, none harming them." a great shout followed the conclusion of beric's speech, and the whole of those present lifted up their hands and swore implicit obedience to him. the next few days were spent in making a careful examination of the mountains above cosenza, and fixing upon the points where an active resistance could be best made. "we must have missiles," beric said one day when his lieutenants were gathered round him. "we will not begin the war until the romans do so, but we must have weapons. boduoc, you will tomorrow take the whole of my band and descend to the plain, fall upon the town of castanium at daybreak; the bands of victor and marsus will accompany you and will be also under your orders. my orders are strict, that no one is to be injured unless he resists. tell the inhabitants that we wish them no harm. ransack the armourers' shops for arrow and javelin heads, and search all the private houses for weapons; also bring off all the brass, copper, and iron you can find, with every axe head and chopper in the town. we can erect charcoal furnaces here similar to those we used at home, and so provide ourselves with an ample store of missiles. bring off from the carpenters' shops any seasoned wood you can find suitable for the making of bows. touch no gold or silver ornaments of the women--the metals are useless to us here--neither take garments nor spoil of any other kind. i would show them that, until driven to it, we are not the foes of the people at large. above all frighten no woman; let them see that we, though gladiators and outlaws, are as well disciplined and as humane as their own soldiery." accordingly at sunset boduoc marched away at the head of two hundred men, and returned to the mountains late on the following afternoon with a large store of arms and metal, beric's orders having been scrupulously carried out. "you should have seen the wonder of the people," boduoc said to him, "when they saw that we meant them no harm, and that we touched neither person nor goods save in the matter of arms. they gave us their best to eat, and many even accompanied us some distance on our return, overjoyed with the clemency we had shown the town." there was no lack of charcoal, and in many places the stacks had been left by the charcoal burners untouched when the bands first appeared among the mountains. those who had been accustomed to the smelting of metals at home were appointed to cast heads for arrows and javelins, others cut down and split up tough wood and fashioned the shafts, others made bows; strong parties were set to work to fell trees and form obstacles in defiles where the rocks rose steeply, while others piled great heaps of stones and heavy rocks along the edges of the precipices. as yet there were no signs of the expected fleet, and when the preparations were complete the bands again scattered, as it was easier so to maintain themselves in provisions; and, a party being left to watch for the arrival of the roman legions, beric returned with his band to his former station. "there will be plenty of time to gather again before they move forward," he said to their lieutenants. "they will have to collect the carts from all the country round, to land their stores and to make their arrangements for victualling. they will know that it is no easy task that they are undertaking, and that they have desperate men to meet. it will be a week after they land at the very earliest before they leave cosenza." for a fortnight beric remained quietly passing the greater portion of his time at the farmhouse with aemilia. "it is terrible to me that you are going to fight the romans, beric," she said. "i have no desire to fight the romans, it is they who want to fight with me," he replied; "and as i have no desire for crucifixion, or any of the other forms of death which they bestow upon their captives, i have no choice but to resist. as you do not think any the worse of me, aemilia, for having fought your countrymen before, i don't see that you can take it to heart that i am going to do it again, especially as you have very small reason to be grateful to them for the treatment that you and yours have received at their hands. you must remember, dear, that as my wife, you are a briton now, and must no longer speak of the romans as your people. still, were it not for my countrymen, i would gladly bury myself with you in some cottage far up among the hills of sicily, and there pass my life in quiet and seclusion. but without a leader the others would speedily fall victims to the romans, and as long as the romans press us, i must remain with them." at the end of the fortnight a messenger arrived saying that a great fleet had arrived at the mouth of the crathis river. "i will from time to time send a messenger to you, aemilia," beric said as he took a tender farewell of his wife, "to tell you how matters go with us; but do not alarm yourself about me, for some time there is little chance of close fighting." the bands gathered in their full force above cosenza, and during the week that elapsed before the romans advanced renewed their labour at various passes through which it was probable that the enemy would move. some of the men were already skilled archers, and the rest had spent their time for the last fortnight in incessant practice, and could manage their weapons sufficiently well to be able to send an arrow into a crowded mass of men. it was with a feeling of satisfaction that the roman column was seen one morning issuing from cosenza and moving up the road that there crossed the mountains. once on the crest they proceeded to cut down trees and form a camp. while they were so occupied the gladiators remained on the defensive. light armed troops had been pushed by the romans into the woods, but after being permitted to advance some distance the sound of a horn was heard, followed instantly by a flight of arrows, and then by a rush of the gladiators, who drove these light armed troops before them, killing many, till they reached the protection of the spearmen. again and again during the ensuing week the romans endeavoured to penetrate the woods, heavy armed troops accompanying the archers. before they had penetrated far into the forest they found their way arrested by obstacles--lines of felled trees with the branches pointing towards them, and these were only taken after severe loss, the defenders shooting through the green hedge, which was only broken through when working parties with heavy axes came up covered by the spearmen. one party, pushing on incautiously, was suddenly attacked on all sides, and after pouring in their missiles the gladiators charged them, broke the ranks of the spearmen, and destroyed the whole party, three hundred in number. after this the advance was delayed until the fortified camp was complete and stored with provisions. then the roman army moved forward, and was soon engaged in a succession of combats. every valley and ravine was defended, invisible foes rolled down masses of rock among them and a hail of arrows, and it was only when very strong bodies of archers, supported by spearmen, climbed the heights on both sides that the resistance ceased. the romans halted for the night where they stood, but there was little sleep for them, for the woods rang with war cries in many languages. the sentries were shot or stabbed by men who crawled up close to them. at times the shouts became so threatening and near that the whole force was called to its feet to repel attack, but in the morning all was quiet. as before, they were attacked as soon as they moved forward. no serious opposition was offered to the columns of spearmen, but the light armed troops who covered the advance and formed a connection between the columns were exposed to incessant attack. the third day the romans, after another disturbed night, again advanced. this time they met with no opposition, and as they moved cautiously forward, wondered uneasily what was the meaning of this silence. late in the afternoon they learned. they had advanced, each man carrying three days' provisions with him. beric, being aware that this was their custom, had during the night led his men some distance down the hillside, and making a detour occupied before morning the ground the romans had passed over. at midday a great convoy of baggage animals, laden with provisions, came along. it extended over a great length, and came in straggling order, the men leading their animals, and making their way with difficulty through the thick trees. five hundred roman soldiers were scattered along the line. suddenly the sound of a horn rose in the woods, and in an instant, at points all along the line of the convoy, strong bodies of men burst down upon them. in vain the roman soldiers tried to gather in groups. the animals, frightened by the shouting and din, broke loose from their leaders and rushed wildly hither and thither, adding to the confusion. greatly outnumbered, and attacked by foes individually their superiors both in strength and skill of arms, and animated by a burning hatred, the romans could do little, and the combat terminated in a few minutes in their annihilation. the men with the convoy were all killed, a line of gladiators having been posted through the woods, both ahead and behind it, before the attack began, so that no fugitives might escape either way to carry the news. the animals were then collected, and their burdens taken off and examined. the flour was divided up into parcels that a man could easily carry on his shoulder, and a large number of skins of wine set aside. all that could not be taken was scattered and destroyed, and the animals then slaughtered. as soon as it became dark the band descended the mountain side, marched for many miles along its foot, and then again ascended the hills, ready to oppose the roman advance; but there was no movement in the morning. surprised and alarmed at the non-arrival of the train by nightfall, the general sent a strong body of troops back to meet them with torches. these in time came upon the bodies of the men and animals, and at once returned with the news of the disaster to the camp. "this is a terrible blow, pollio," the general said to his son-in-law. "we had reckoned on an obstinate resistance, but did not dream that the gladiators would thus oppose us." "it puts me in mind, muro, of the work in the fens of britain; and indeed more than once i have thought i recognized the war cries with which the iceni attacked us. the strategy is similar to that we then encountered. can it be possible that beric is again opposing us? i heard during the short time we were in rome that the britons in the palace of nero had risen and escaped. i was too heartbroken at the fate of my uncle and his family to ask many questions, and was fully occupied in our preparations. my first thought would have been to find beric out had i not been met on landing with the news of the disgrace and death of norbanus, and i shunned the palace of nero as if the pestilence had been there. no doubt beric would have left with the other britons, and in that case he may well be at the head of those opposing us." "the tactics they are adopting certainly look like it, pollio; and if they continue to fight as they have done so far, we are likely to have no better fortune than suetonius had in his campaign against them. it is ten days since we left cosenza, we have made but some ten miles advance among the hills, and we have lost already eight hundred hoplites, and i know not how many light armed troops. at this rate our force will melt away to nothing before we have half cleared this wilderness of rock and forest. hitherto in their revolts the gladiators have met our troops in pitched battle, but their strength and skill have not availed against roman discipline. but in such fighting as this discipline goes for little. they are fighting on ground they know, can choose their moment for attack, and hurl all their strength on one point while we are groping blindly." "but how can they have got through our lines in the night, muro?" pollio asked. "our men were posted down to the edge of the forest on either side of the hills. there were two thousand under arms all night." "but there was nothing to prevent them, pollio, from descending far below the forest line and coming up again in our rear. this is what they must have done. nor have we any means of preventing their doing so, for nothing short of a force strong enough to reach down to the sea on either hand would prevent their passing us. at any rate we must halt here for a time. the whole of our baggage animals are destroyed, and nothing can be done until another train is collected." the war proceeded but slowly. the romans indeed made some slight advance, but they were worn out and harassed by incessant alarms. to prevent the recurrence of the disaster to the baggage train the supplies were now carried along the plain at the foot of the hill, and then taken up under very strong escorts directly to the point at which the army had arrived. the soldiers, worn out and dispirited by constant alarms, became reluctant to advance unless in solid order; and in this way five thousand men, taking nine days' provisions with them, made their way through the heart of the hills until they reached the southern slopes, and the sea lay before them. but they occupied only the ground on which they stood, and their passage brought them no nearer to the end they desired. the fact that the army had made a passage right through the mountains was regarded as a triumph in rome, and believing that the end was near fresh reinforcements were sent to muro to enable him to finish the campaign rapidly. his reports, however, to the senate left no doubt in the minds of those who read them as to the situation. "we are fighting," he said, "an enemy who will not allow us to strike him. three months have passed since i entered the mountains, and yet i cannot say that i am nearer the end than i was when i began. i have lost three thousand men, of whom half are spearmen. the gladiators have suffered but slightly, for they always burst down in overwhelming numbers, slay, and retire. at least twenty times my camps have been attacked; and although i have lost but one convoy, the difficulty and labour of victualling the troops is enormous. if the gladiators would but take to the plain we should annihilate them in the first battle. as it is, it is they who select the ground for action, and not we. the troops are utterly worn out and well nigh mutinous at what they consider a hopeless task. you ask me what had best be done. my own opinion is, that we should retire from the mountains and establish the troops in camps near their foot, so as to restrain the gladiators from making excursions, and to fall upon them when hunger drives them to leave the mountains. treachery may then do what force has failed in. "among such a body there must be traitors, and when the war is apparently ended we may, through shepherds or goatherds, open communication with them. my great fear is, and always has been, that as we gradually press them south they may pour down on to one of the villages on the straits, seize the boats, cross to sicily, and take refuge in the mountains there, where they could laugh at our efforts to pursue them. i should advise that it should be announced publicly that our army, having traversed the whole mountains of bruttium without meeting with a foe, the objects of the expedition have been attained, and the enemy may now be considered as a mere mass of fugitives, whom it would be impossible to root out as long as they take refuge among their fastnesses; but that for the present the army will be placed in a cordon of camps round the foot of the mountains, by which means the fugitives will be starved into surrender. if this course is not approved i have but one other to suggest, namely, that the whole of the population of southern italy should be ordered to take part in the total destruction of the forests of bruttium. every tree must be cut down to the level of the soil; every trunk and branch be burnt by fire. the task would be a tremendous one. the loss to the country around by the destruction of the forests, wherein their flocks of sheep and goats and their herds of swine find sustenance and shelter in winter, would be enormous, but thus, and thus alone, i am assured, can these bands of gladiators be rooted out." muro's advice was taken, and the exulting gladiators beheld the troops descending from the mountains to the plains below. their own loss had not exceeded three hundred men, and their shouts of triumph rose high in the woods, and reached the ears of the romans retiring sullenly down the slopes. in a few days the plan of the romans became apparent. the camp in the pass above cosenza was still strongly held, four well fortified camps were established in the plains on either side of the hills, and muro himself took up his post at rhegium, where two thousand legionaries were posted. the gladiators again broke up into bands, beric returning to his former encampment, to the delight of aemilia. "you must not suppose that our troubles are over, aemilia," he said. "we have indeed beaten them on our own ground, but we shall now have to fight against famine. the wild animals have already become scarce. you may be sure that the villagers will be allowed to send no more flocks or herds up the hills to pasture, and before long it will be necessary to make raids for food. you will see that, emboldened by their successes, the men will become rash, and may be cut off and defeated. as for us there is no fear; as long as we can pay for provisions we shall be able to obtain them, for although there may be difficulty in obtaining regular supplies, now that the troops are at rhegium, all these upland farmers and villagers will continue to deal with us, knowing that if they do not we shall take what we need without payment and perhaps burn their houses over their heads." it was not long, indeed, before beric's predictions were verified. as soon as the provisions became scarce the bands on the other side of the mountains recommenced their forays on the villagers, but from the roman camps parties of soldiers were sent off after nightfall to the upper villages, and the marauders were several times surprised and almost exterminated. "we must be more and more careful," beric said to aemilia when he heard of one of these disasters. "the prisoners the romans take will under torture tell all they know, and it will not be long before the romans ascertain the general position of our encampment. the force will dwindle rapidly. in the last two months they have lost well nigh as many men as in the campaign in the mountains. more than that, i have seen several of the leaders, who told me they had determined, seeing that starvation was approaching them here, to endeavour to pass between the roman camps with their bands, and regain the mountains beyond cosenza, so as to establish themselves far north; and indeed i cannot blame them. but their retreat adds to our danger. so long as they roamed the eastern hills there was no danger of a roman force surprising us, but when they have gone some of the captives may be forced to lead the romans across the hills to our neighbourhood. boduoc is vigilant and his scouts are scattered far round the camp, and at the worst we may have to carry out my plan of crossing to sicily. at any rate he has my orders what to do in case of a sudden surprise. if i am absent, knowing every foot of the wood now, he will at once make his way north, leaving it to me to rejoin him as i best can." but upon one thing beric had not reckoned. so long as the gladiators were in force among the mountains the country people on the slopes above the straits were glad enough to purchase their safety by silence. but as they heard of one band after another being crushed by the romans, and learned that parties from the various camps had penetrated far into the hills without meeting with a single opponent, their fear of the gladiators decreased. there were two thousand legionaries at rhegium. these could crush the band that remained somewhere about the crest of the hills with ease, and they need no longer fear their vengeance. the roman general would surely pay a great reward for information that would lead to his being able to deal a final blow to the gladiators. the farmer with whom aemilia lodged had no such thought. he had earned in the last eight months as much as his farm had brought him in the three best years since he inherited it. he found these terrible outlaws gentle and pleasant, ready to lend a hand on the farm if needful, and delighted to play with his children. as to their chief, he was a source of never ending wonder to him. gladiators were, according to his idea, fierce and savage men, barbarians who were good for nothing but to kill each other, while this tall man bore himself like a roman of high rank, conversed in pure latin, and could even read and write. aemilia, too, had become a great favourite in the house. the farmer's wife wondered at seeing one, with two slaves to wait upon her, active and busy, interested in all that went on, and eager to learn every detail of the housework. "i could manage a roman household, beric," she said. "i did so indeed all the time we were in rome; but we may have to live in a hut, and i must know how to manage and cook for you there." in rhegium life was more cheerful than usual. many of the upper class of rome, who shrank from the festivities of the court of nero and yet dared not withdraw altogether from rome, had their country estates and villas along the coasts, where they could for a time enjoy freedom and live according to their tastes. berenice had joined pollio three weeks before, when she found that he was likely to remain stationed at rhegium for some time. they lived with muro in a villa a short distance from the town, and looking over the straits. "i should feel perfectly happy here, pollio," berenice said one evening as she walked to and fro on the terrace with him, looking at the water in which the moonlight was reflected, bringing up into view the boats rowing here and there with pleasure parties with music and lanterns, "if it were not for the thought of beric. it is curious that he should be mixed up with both our lives. he was my playmate as a boy; he saved me at the massacre of camalodunum, and restored me to my father. when we left britain he was fighting against suetonius, and we expected when we left that the news of his defeat and death would reach rome before us. at rome we heard but vague rumours that suetonius had not yet overcome the final resistance of the britons, and glad we were when petronius was sent out to take his place, and we heard that gentler measures were to be used towards the britons. "then, after a time, when we were in syria, came the news that suetonius had returned, bringing with him beric, the british chief, with twenty of his followers, and my father at once wrote to the emperor praying him that clemency might be extended to him for his kind action in saving my life. then when you came out to syria beric's name again came up. you had journeyed with him from britain to rome, and he had become your friend. then a few months afterwards a newcomer from rome brought us the story of how your cousin ennia, having turned christian, had been condemned to the lions; how a british gladiator named beric had sprung into the arena and craved to fight the lion; how nero had cruelly ordered him to do so unarmed; and how he had, as it seemed by a miracle, overcome the lion and bound him by strips torn from his mantle. then again we learned from one who came from nero's court that beric stood high in favour with caesar, that he was always about his person, and that rumours said he kept guard over him at night. "then again, when we returned to rome, my father was at once ordered to take command of an expedition against some revolted gladiators, among whom were, it was said, the british captives who had created a disturbance in nero's palace, well nigh killed the emperor, and after slaying many of the praetorians, escaped. after you and my father had left me at the house of my uncle lucius i made many inquiries, and found that beric had doubtless escaped with the other britons, as he had never been seen in the palace that night. i heard too that it had been whispered by some of those who were present at the supper, that the fault had not been his. he had been betrothed to your cousin aemilia, and nero, urged thereto by rufinus, a disappointed suitor, ordered beric to bring her to the orgy. upon his refusal rufinus attacked him, and beric slew him by dashing his head against a marble pillar. then nero called upon the praetorians, and the britons ran in to the aid of their chief, and, defeating the praetorians, escaped. it was the same night that your uncle died and aemilia was missing. it may be that she fled with beric, knowing that she would be sacrificed to the fury of nero. is it not strange, pollio, that this briton should be so mixed up in both our lives?" "it is indeed, berenice. there is no one to whom i owe so much. first i owe your life to him, then i owe that of ennia, my cousin; for although she died afterwards, it was in her father's house, and not a terrible and disgraceful death in the arena. and now we have been fighting against him for months, and though of course we made the best of matters, there is no doubt that we had all the worst of it. we had twelve thousand men against a thousand, and yet beric kept us at bay and inflicted some terrible blows upon us, for we lost a third of our number. after the first battle there was no longer any doubt that beric was the leader of our opponents. even had we not heard them shout his name as they attacked us, we who had fought against him in britain would have recognized that he was again our opponent; for he used the same tactics among the mountains that he had done in the swamps. we know from prisoners we have taken since that he was unharmed in the struggle with us, and certainly neither he nor any of his britons have been among the raiding bands whom we have surprised and destroyed. indeed the britons never joined in any of the attacks upon the country people before we came hither. i have questioned many of the sufferers by their depredations, and none of them had seen among the plunderers any tall men with light hair. the only time that they have been seen on the plains was a fortnight before we landed, when they entered castanium and carried off all the arms. the britons were among that party, and a briton commanded it; but from the description it was not beric, but was, i think, his principal follower, a man with a british name which i forget." "was it boduoc?" berenice asked. "i have often heard him speak of a friend of his with such a name, and indeed he came once or twice to see him when he was with us." "that was the name--boduoc," pollio said. "they behaved with the greatest gentleness, injuring no one and taking nothing, neither jewels, nor ornaments, nor garments, but departing quietly after taking possession of all the weapons in the town. "your father reported the fact to rome, bringing into prominence the fact that this was the first time the britons had ever descended from the mountains, and that the inhabitants of castanium were filled with gratitude and admiration for the treatment they received. last week he wrote to rome saying that so far as he could learn all the bands that had not been destroyed had gone north, save one composed of britons and gauls, about fourscore in number, commanded by the briton beric, and suggested that as months might pass before they could be captured, he should be authorized to treat with them, and to offer them full pardon if they would lay down their arms, especially as they had taken no part whatever in the misdeeds of the other gladiators, and had injured no one either in person or property. i know that it was a great disappointment to him, as well as to us, when the letter came yesterday saying that they were to be hunted down and destroyed, and that all not killed in fighting were to be crucified. but we had better go in, berenice, the dew is beginning to fall." they entered the villa. the general was alone in the atrium. "is anything the matter, father?" berenice asked, as she saw that he looked disturbed. "yes, berenice, i have received news that as a roman general ought to delight me, but which, as caius muro, your father and the father in law of pollio, vexes me greatly." "what is it, father?" "a man arrived half an hour since saying that he had news of importance to communicate. he was brought in here. he told me he was a cultivator whose farm lay far up on the hillside. for upwards of a year he had, in fear of his life, as he said, been compelled to sell food to the bandits in the mountains. he acknowledged that he had been well paid, and that he had no cause of complaint against them; but he now professed a desire to do service to rome, for which he evidently expected a handsome reward. i told him i could not bargain with him. he had aided the enemies of rome, and by his own account his life was forfeited, seeing that for a year he had been trafficking with them, instead of doing his duty and reporting their first visit to the authorities here. "he said that he was not alone, and that most of the farmers high up on the hills had been compelled to do the same, and had kept silence, knowing that the brigands would have burned their houses and slain their wives and families had they reported aught against them to the authorities, and that, indeed, they were altogether ignorant of the position of the camp of the outlaws beyond the fact that it was somewhere among the mountains. 'what, then, have you to report?' i said angrily, for i hate to have to do with traitors. 'it is this,' he said: 'for some months there has been living a lady, supposed to be the wife of the chief of the outlaws, at a farm next to mine, belonging to one cornelius. the chief often visits her and stays there; five of his followers live in an out house adjoining the farm, and one of these is always on guard night and day. "'the chief himself is a very tall young man, and is called beric by his followers. four of them are also of his race, tall and very fair like him. there is also a youth who lives in the house. he belongs to the band, but appears to be a native of rome. he sometimes comes down and makes purchases in rhegium. the house cannot be approached from below without an alarm being given, owing to the strictness of the watch; but i could lead a body of troops high up above it, so as to come down upon the rear of the house and cut off all escape when another band comes up from below.' i told him that his information was valuable, and that he was to come here to-morrow evening at eight o'clock to lead a party of light armed troops up into the hills." "and you will send them, father?" berenice broke in; "surely you will not take advantage of this treachery." "i have no choice but to do so," the general said gravely. "as a father i would give my right hand to save the man who preserved your life; as a roman soldier my duty is to capture the outlaw, beric, by any means possible. pollio will tell you the same." berenice looked at her husband, who stood in consternation and grief at the news. "do you say this too, pollio?" pollio did not answer, but the general spoke for him. "he can say nothing else, berenice. to a roman soldier duty is everything, and were he ordered to arrest his own father and lead him to execution he could not hesitate." "but i am not a soldier--" berenice began passionately. the general held up his hand suddenly. "hush, berenice, not a word farther! i am a roman general. if you say one word that would clash with my duty i should order you to your chamber and place a soldier there on guard over you. now i will leave you with your husband;" and the general left the room. "what do you say, pollio? will you suffer this man, who saved your wife, who risked his life for your cousin, and is, as it seems, your cousin by marriage, to be foully captured and crucified?" "i am a soldier, berenice; do not tempt me to break my duty. you heard what your father said." berenice stamped her foot. "does your duty go so far, pollio, that like my father you would place a guard at my door if i said aught that would seem to run counter to your duty?" "not at all, berenice," he said with a smile; "say aught you like. i hear as a husband but not as a soldier." "well, that is something," berenice said, mollified. "well, pollio, if you will not warn beric of his danger i will do so. have i your permission to act as i choose?" "my full permission, dear. do as you like; act as you choose; you have beforehand my approval. if you fail and harm comes of it i will stand by you and share your punishment; but tell me nothing of what you would do beforehand. i trust you wholly, but for my sake, if not for your own, be not rash. remember, if by any means it becomes known that you aided beric to escape, both our lives are surely forfeited." "thank you, pollio," berenice said, throwing her arms round his neck, "that is spoken like my husband. you shall know nothing, and i will save beric." chapter xxi: old friends beric and aemilia were sitting on the following day in the shade in front of the house, where porus had erected a verandah of boughs to keep off the sun, when they observed a female peasant and an elderly man ascending the hill. they were still some distance down, and the man spoke to one of the farm men who was on his way down the hill. "they are coming this way," aemilia said; "they have passed the point where the paths fork. she seems to find that basket she is carrying heavy, and no wonder, for it is a steep climb under the midday sun." stopping once or twice to get breath the two peasants approached. "she is a good looking girl, beric," aemilia said. "our host has two or three nieces down in the town," beric replied; "i expect it is one of them. yes, she is certainly pretty, and not so browned and sunburnt as most of these peasant girls are." as they came close the girl stopped and looked at the house, and then, instead of going to the entrance, left her companion and walked across to the verandah. a smile came across her face. "shall i tell you your fortune?" she said abruptly to aemilia. "it is told," aemilia said; "to be a farmer's wife. but what do you know of fortunes?" "i can tell you the past if not the future," the young woman said, setting down her basket. "may i do so?" "you are a strange girl," aemilia said, "but tell me what you can." "i can see an amphitheatre," the girl went on, "a great one, greater than that across at messina, and it is crowded with people. in the front row there sits a man past middle age and a lady and a girl. in the centre of the arena is a young girl in white." "hush, hush!" aemilia cried, leaping to her feet, "say no more. you know me, though how i cannot guess." "i see another scene," the girl went on without heeding her; "it is a hut. it must belong to some savage people. it is quite unlike our cottages. there is an old woman there and a man and a young girl. the old woman does not speak to them; she does not seem of the same race; the other two are romans. the mat at the door is pushed aside and there enters a tall youth. not so tall as this man, not so strong; and yet like him, just as a boy might be to a man. "the girl jumps up and exclaims 'beric.'" beric had risen to his feet also now. "is it possible," he cried, "that as the boy has grown into the man, so has the girl grown into--" and he stopped. "into a young woman, beric. yes, don't you remember me now?" "it is berenice!" he exclaimed. "it is indeed, beric, the child you saved from death. and this is your wife aemilia, the daughter of norbanus, who is the uncle of my husband pollio. and do you not know who that is standing there?" "why, surely it is my tutor and friend nepo;" and running towards him he embraced him with heartiness and then led him to the verandah, where berenice was talking with aemilia. "but why are you thus disguised, and how did you know that aemilia and i were here?" "we have come to warn you, beric. you have been betrayed, and tonight there will be troops ranged along above the house to cut off your retreat, and a company of soldiers will advance from below straight upon the house. my father told me, i think, in order that i might save you, though as a roman general he could do nought save his duty. pollio, too, though he said he would willingly give his sanction, knows not that i have come hither. he pretended that his duty as a soldier prevented him from warning you, though i believe that had not i been with him his friendship and gratitude would have been too much for his duty. however, i was with him, and he gave me permission to come; though, mind you, i should have come whether he gave me permission or not. you did not ask permission of anyone when you saved me, and even if pollio had threatened to divorce me if i disobeyed him i would have come; but as i needed a disguise, and did not like to trust any of the slaves, i took nepo into my confidence, and he managed everything." "we are, indeed, grateful to you," aemilia cried, embracing berenice warmly. "it was brave of you indeed to come." "it requires less bravery to come up here with a message, aemilia, than to run away from rome with an outlaw who had just bearded caesar in his palace." "i did not do that, berenice. it was not because i was unwilling, but because beric would not take me with him. i stayed for months in rome, hidden in the catacombs with the christians, until beric sent for me to join him here; but come inside and take some refreshment, for you must be weary indeed with your long walk up the hill." "no one else must see me," berenice said. "there may be inquiries when they come tonight and find that you are gone, and i would not that any should see me." "no one will see you. the room is situated at the back of the house, and though i shall take the slaves with us in our flight, they shall not catch even a glimpse of your face. i will set them some needlework to do." they were soon seated in aemilia's room, and beric brought in fruit and wine, goat's milk, cheese, and bread. "there is no hurry for me to return," berenice said. "the slaves believe that i have gone out to pay some visits, and i do not wish to get back until after sunset. there is so much for beric to tell us. "you do not know, beric, how often nepo and i have talked about it, and how we have longed to see you, and i believe that what drew me first to pollio was his praises of you. but before you begin there is one thing i must tell you. my father has received private news from rome; there is a report there that the legions have proclaimed galba emperor, and that ere long he will be in rome. at present it is but a rumour, and of course at court all profess to disbelieve it, and nero openly scoffs at the pretensions of galba; but the friend who wrote to my father says that he believes it true. now my father is a great friend of galba's. they were much together as young men, and served together both in gaul and syria; and he feels sure that if galba comes to the throne he will be able to obtain a pardon for you and those with you, since you have done no one harm save when attacked. he attempted to procure it from nero, but altogether without success; with galba it will be different, especially as a new emperor generally begins his reign by acts of clemency. now, as i have given you my news, beric, do you tell us, while we are eating the fruit, everything that has happened to you since i last saw you at that hut." "so much has happened that it will be impossible to tell you all, berenice; but i will give you the outline of it. the principal thing of all is, that i have taken a wife." berenice pouted. "it is lucky for you, aemilia, that i was not at rome when beric arrived, for i had as a girl always determined that i should some day marry him and become a british chieftainess. he had not seen you then except at massilia, and i should have had him all to myself at rome, for you did not get there, pollio tells me, until months later." aemilia laughed. "i should not have entered the lists against you, berenice. it was not until after he saved ennia from the lion in the arena that i came to love him." "well, i must put up with pollio," berenice said. "he is your cousin, and i have nothing to say against him as a husband; he is kind and indulgent, and a brave soldier, and all one could want; but he is not a hero like beric." beric laughed. "you should have said a giant, berenice, which would have been much nearer the truth. and now i will tell you my story;" and during the next two hours he gave her a sketch of all that had passed since they had last parted in britain. "there, cneius nepo," berenice said when he had finished. "you never thought for a moment that your pupil, who used to pore with you over those parchments, till i often wished i could throw them in the fire when i wanted him to play with me, was to go through such adventures--to match himself first against suetonius, and then against my father, both times with honour; to be nero's bodyguard; to say nothing of fighting in the arena, and getting up a revolt in the palace of caesar." "i expected great things of him," nepo said; "but not like these. i fancied he would become a great chief among the british, and that he might perhaps induce them to adopt something of our civilization. i had fancied him as a wise ruler; and, seeing how fond he was of the exercise of arms, i had thought long before the insurrection broke out that some day he might lead his countrymen to battle against us, and that, benefiting by his study of caesar and other military writers, he would give far more trouble to the romans than even caractacus had done. but assuredly i never dreamt of him as fighting a lion barehanded in a roman arena in defence of a roman girl. as to marriages, i own that the thought crossed my mind that the union of a great british chief with the daughter of a roman of rank like your father would be an augury of peace, and might lead to better relations between the two countries." "that dream must be given up," berenice said seriously, "there are two obstacles. but i have no doubt aemilia would make quite as good a chieftainess as i should have done. some day, aemilia, if you return to britain with beric, as i hope you will do, and pollio becomes a commander of a legion, i will get him to apply for service there. it is cold and foggy; but wood is a good deal more plentiful and cheaper than it is at rome, and with good fires one can exist anywhere. and now it is time for us to be going. we will take another path in returning down the hills, so that any one who noticed us coming up will not see us as we descend. nepo's toga and my stola are hidden in a grove just outside the town, and it will be dusk by the time we arrive there. kiss me, aemilia; i am glad that i know you, for i have heard much of you from pollio. i am glad that beric has chosen so well. goodbye, beric; i hope we may meet again before long, and that without danger to any of us. you may salute me if aemilia does not object--i told pollio i should permit it;" and she laughingly lifted up her face to him. "he never used to kiss me when i was a child," she said to aemilia. "i always thought it very unkind, and was greatly discontented at it. now, nepo, let us be going." beric and his wife stood watching them until they were far down the hill. "she makes light of it," beric said; "but it is no common risk she has run. nero can punish women as well as men, and were it to come to his ears that she has enabled me to escape his vengeance, even the influence of her father might not avail to save her." "i shall remember her always in my prayers," aemilia said earnestly, "and pray that she too may some day come to know the truth." beric did not answer. aemilia had explained to him all that she knew of her religion, but while admitting the beauty of its teaching, and the loftiness of its morals, he had not yet been able to bring himself to believe the great facts upon which it was based. "we must be moving," he said, and summoned philo, who had been much surprised at beric's being so long in conversation with strangers. "send porus to me," he said, "and bid cornelius also come here." the two men came round to the verandah together. "we are betrayed, porus," he said, "and the romans will be here this evening." porus grasped the handle of his dagger and looked menacingly at the farmer. "our good friend has nought to do with it, porus; it is some one from one of the other farms who has taken down the news to rhegium. do you order the others to be in readiness to start for the camp. but first strip down the hangings of our room, roll them and the mats and all else in seven bundles, with all my wife's clothing and belongings." "we need leave little behind. we can take everything," porus said. "the six of us can carry well nigh as much as the same number of horses, and philo can take something. i will see about it immediately." "now, cornelius," beric went on when porus had left, "you must prepare your story, and see that your men and the rest of the household stick to it. you will be sharply questioned. you have only the truth to say, namely, that some of my band came down here and threatened to burn your house and slay all in it unless you agreed to sell us what things we required; that, seeing no other way of preserving your lives, you agreed to do so. after a time a young woman--do not say lady--came with two attendants, and you were forced to provide her with a room; and as five men were placed here constantly, you still dared give no information to the authorities, because a watch was also set on you, and your family would have been slain long before any troops could arrive here. what you will be most closely questioned about is as to why we all left you today. they will ask you if any one has been here. you saw no one, did you?" "no, my lord. i heard voices in your room, but it was no business of mine who was with you." "that is good," beric said. "that is what you must say. you know someone did come because you heard voices; but you saw nobody either coming or going, and know not how many of them there were, nor what was their age. you only know that i summoned you suddenly, and told you i had been betrayed, and that the romans would soon be coming in search of me, and therefore i was obliged to take to the mountains. but go first and inquire among the household, and see if any of them noticed persons coming here." "one of the men says that he saw an old peasant with a girl who asked which was my farm." "then that man must go with us to the mountains. he shall return safe and unharmed in a few days. the romans must not know of this. this is the one point on which you must be silent; on all others speak freely. it is important to me that it should not be known whether it was man or woman, old or young, who warned me. "i do not threaten you. i know that you are true and honest; but, to ensure silence among your household, tell them that i shall certainly find out if the roman soldiers learn here that it was an old man and a girl who visited me, and that i will take dire vengeance on whomsoever tells this to the romans. discharge your man before we leave with him, so that you may say truly that those the romans find here are your whole household, and maintain that not one of them saw who it was who came to me today." "i can promise that, my lord. you and the lady aemilia have been kind and good to us, and my wife, the female slave, and the hired men would do anything for you. as for the children, they were not present when balbus said that he had been questioned by the old man, and can tell nought, however closely they may be questioned, save that balbus was here and has gone." "i had not thought of that," beric said. "better, then, tell the soldiers the truth: you had two serving men, but we have carried one away with us." in half an hour all was ready for a start. the two female slaves, although attached to their mistress, were terrified at the thoughts of going away among the mountains, although aemilia assured them that no harm could happen to them there. then, with a hearty adieu to the farmer and his wife, beric and his companions shouldered the loads, and with balbus, philo, aemilia, and the two female slaves made their way up the mountain. as soon as they started, beric gave orders to philo to go on with all speed to the camp, and to tell boduoc of the coming of aemilia, and bid him order the men at once to prepare a bower at some short distance from their camp. accordingly when the party arrived great fires were blazing, and the outlaws received aemilia with shouts of welcome. "i thank you all," beric said, "for my wife and myself. she knows that in no place could she be so safe as here, guarded by the brave men who have so faithfully followed her husband." so heartily had the men laboured that in the hour and a half that had elapsed since philo had arrived a large hut had been erected a hundred yards from the camp, with a small bower beside it for the use of the female slaves. a great bonfire burnt in front, and the interior was lighted by torches of resinous wood. "thanks, my friends," beric said. "you have indeed built us a leafy palace. i need not exhort the guards to be watchful tonight, for it may be that the traitor who will guide the romans to the house where we have been stopping may know something of the mountains, and guessing the direction of our camp may attempt to lead them to it. therefore, boduoc, let the outposts be thrown out farther than usual, and let some be placed fully three miles from here, in all the ravines by which it is likely the enemy might make their way hither." three days later philo went down to learn what had passed. he was ordered not to approach the house, as some soldiers might have been left there to seize upon any one who came down, but to remain at a distance until he saw the farmer or one of his household at work in the fields. he brought back news that the romans had arrived on the night they had left, had searched the house and country round, had closely questioned all there, even to the children, and had carried off the farmer and his man. these had returned the next evening. they had been questioned by the general, who had admonished the farmer severely on his failure to report the presence of the outlaws at whatever risk to his family and property; but on their taking an oath that they were unable to give any information whatever, either as to the outlaws' retreat or the persons who had brought up the news of the intended attack by the romans, they were released. balbus was then sent back to the farm with presents for all there, and it was agreed that the camp should be broken up. the general would, in compliance with the orders of nero, make fresh efforts to hunt down the band; and as he knew now the neighbourhood in which they were, and treachery might again betray the spot, it was better to choose some other locality; there was, too, no longer any occasion for them to keep together. they had the mountains to themselves now, and although the wild animals had been considerably diminished, there were still goats in the upper ranges, and swine and wild boar in the thickest parts of the forests. it was also advisable to know what was passing elsewhere, and to have warning of the approach of any body of troops from the camps round it. accordingly, while the britons remained with beric, who took up his quarters in the forest at the foot of one of the loftiest crags, whence a view could be obtained of the hills from rhegium to cosenza, the rest were broken up into parties of five. signals were arranged by which by smoke during day or fire at night warning could be given of the approach of an enemy, and also whether it was a mere scouting party or a strong column. for another three months they lived among the hills. their life was rougher than it had been, for they had now to subsist entirely upon the spoils of the chase, and bread made of ground acorns and beechnuts, mixed with a very small portion of flour. the latter was obtained from lonely cottages, for beric insisted that no villages should be entered. "there may be soldiers in every hamlet on the hills, and i would have no risk run of death or capture. did a few of us fall into their hands it would encourage them to continue their blockade, but as time goes on, and it is found that their presence is entirely fruitless, they may be recalled." for the first few weeks, indeed, after the failure of the attempt to entrap beric, parties were sent up into the hills from all the camps, for as the remaining band of gladiators was known to number under a hundred men, it would be no longer necessary for the assailants to move as an army; but after marching hither and thither through the forests without finding any signs of the fugitives the troops returned to their camps, and a fortnight later the greater portion of them were either transported to sicily or sent north, a few hundred men only remaining to watch for the reappearance of the band. from time to time philo went down to rhegium to gather news of what was passing. as the farmer had not been troubled since the visit of the troopers, they renewed their relations with him, except that they abstained from purchasing food of him lest he should be again questioned. nevertheless he occasionally sent up by philo a skin of wine as a present to beric. "so that i can swear that i have sold them nothing, and that they have taken nothing, there is little chance of my ever being asked if i made them a present," he said. he was surprised one day by a visit from a roman, who informed him that he was secretary to the general, and whom, indeed, he had seen when brought before him. "do you still hear aught of the brigands, cornelius?" he asked. the farmer was taken aback by this question. "no harm is intended you," nepo said. "the general may have reason for desiring to communicate with the band, whose leader at one time stayed in your house, and which is now the last remnant of the gladiators among the hills. the search for them has been given up as vain, and probably he will receive orders from rome to withdraw the troops altogether and to offer terms to the gladiators. at present he cannot communicate with them, and he would be glad for you to renew your connection with them, not to assist them by selling them food or receiving them here, but that you should arrange some means of communication with them." "i might manage that," the farmer said. "it is true that once or twice some of them have come down here. they have taken nothing, and have come, i think, more to learn what is passing without than for any other purpose; but it may be some time before they come again." "at any rate," nepo said, "when they do come, do you arrange for a signal, such, for instance, as lighting two fires on the crest above there, with plenty of green wood, that would make a smoke which would be seen for many miles away. this smoke will tell them that there is a message for them from the general. i give you my word as a roman that no treachery is intended, and i myself, accompanied perhaps by one officer, but no more, will bring it up here and be in waiting to see their chief; so you see i should place myself much more in his hands than he in mine." it was but a few days before beric received this message. it filled him with hope, for remembering what berenice had said about the proclamation of galba as emperor, it seemed to him that this life as a fugitive might be approaching its end. for himself he was perfectly happy. he and his britons lived much as they had done at home. it required hard work to keep the larder supplied, but this only gave a greater zest to the chase. they sighed sometimes for the cool skies of britain, but in other respects they were perfectly contented. since the soldiers had been withdrawn they had had no difficulty in obtaining the two things they most required, flour and wine, and, indeed, sometimes brought up sacks of grain and jars of honey, from which they manufactured a sweet beer such as they had drunk at home, and was to them far better than wine. beric, perhaps, was more anxious for a change than any of his followers. aemilia seemed perfectly happy, her spirits were as high now as when he had first known her as a girl at massilia. she was the life and soul of the little band, and the britons adored her; but beric remembered that she had been brought up in comfort and luxury, and longed to give her similar surroundings. although for luxuries he himself cared nothing, he did sometimes feel an ardent desire again to associate with men such as he had met at the house of norbanus, to enjoy long talks on literary and other subjects, and to discuss history and philosophy. "it is good," he said one day to aemilia, "for a man who lives among his fellows to have learned to enjoy study and to find in enlightened conversation his chief pleasure, but if his lot is thrown far from towns it were far better that he had known nothing of these pleasures." one morning boduoc, who had gone up early to the summit of the crag, brought down the news that he could make out two columns of smoke rising from the hill over rhegium. "i hope to bring you back good news tomorrow, aemilia," beric said as he at once prepared to start. "i may find nepo at the farm when i get there and may possibly be back tonight, but it is full six hours' journey, and as there is no moon i can hardly travel after sundown." "i shall not expect you till tomorrow, beric. it were best to arrange that, and then i shall not be looking for you. even if nepo is there when you arrive, you will want a long talk with him, and it is likely that pollio will be with him, so do not think of starting back till the morning." it was just noon when beric reached the farm. "you are just to the time," cornelius said. "i received an order at daybreak this morning to light the fires and to tell you if you came that the general's secretary would be here at noon. see, there are two figures coming up the hill now." the moment he saw that they had passed the fork of the paths and were really coming to the house beric rushed down to meet them, and as he approached saw that they were indeed pollio and nepo. he and pollio embraced each other affectionately. "i am well pleased indeed," pollio said, "that we meet here for the first time, and that i did not encounter you in the forests. by the gods, but you have grown into a veritable giant. why, you must overtop the tallest of your band." "by an inch or two, pollio. and you have altered somewhat too." "the cares of matrimony age a man rapidly," pollio said laughing, "though doubtless they sit lightly on your huge shoulders. why, you could let my little cousin sit on your hand and hold her out at arm's length. i always told her that she would need a masterful husband to keep her in order, and truly she is well suited. and now for my news, beric. nero is dead. the news arrived last night." beric uttered an exclamation of surprise. "how died he?" he asked. "by his own hand. when the news came that other legions had followed the example of those of galba, all fell away from nero, and the praetorians themselves, whom he had petted and spoilt, having no inclination for a fight with galba's legionaries, proclaimed the latter emperor. then nero showed himself a craven, flying in disguise to the house of phaon. there he remained in hiding, weeping and terrified, knowing that he must die, but afraid to kill himself. he may well have thought then of how many he had compelled to die, and how calmly and fearlessly they had opened their veins. it was not until he heard the trampling of the horsemen sent to seize him that he nerved himself, and even then could not strike, but placing the point of a dagger against his breast, bade a slave drive it home. "the senate proclaimed galba emperor two days before the death of nero; but as yet all is uncertain. there are other generals whose legions may dispute this point. syria and egypt may choose vespasian; the transalpine legions, who favoured vindex, may pronounce for some other. the praetorians themselves, with the sailors of the fleet, knowing that galba has the reputation of being close fisted, may choose someone who may flatter and feast them as nero did. as yet there is no saying what will be done, but at any rate your chief enemy is dead. muro bids me say that some months may yet elapse before galba comes to rome; but that, as he has at present no imperial master, and the senate will be far too busy wrangling and persecuting the adherents of the man whom but a short time since they declared to be a god, to trouble themselves about a handful of gladiators in bruttium, he will at once collect his troops at rhegium, and you will be entirely unmolested if you promise that your band will in no way ill treat the people. i know that they have not hitherto done so, and that they will not do so, but the fact that he has a formal engagement with you to that effect will justify him in withdrawing his troops. indeed, he said that it would be better, perhaps, that a document should be drawn up and signed, in which you pledge yourself to peaceful courses, urging that it was but the tyranny of nero that forced you to become fugitives, and craving that, as your band has never done any harm to the people, an amnesty may be granted you. this document will aid him when he meets galba. he will not wait until the latter comes to rome, but will shortly ask permission from the senate to quit his post for a time, all being quiet here, and will at once take ship to massilia and see galba. the new emperor is not, he says, a man bent on having his own way, but always leans on friends for advice, and he feels sure that his representations will suffice to obtain a free pardon for your band, and permission for them to leave the mountains and go wheresoever they will, so that in that case there will be nought to prevent you and your followers returning to britain." "this is joyous news indeed, pollio, and i cannot too warmly thank the general for his kindness to me. as to berenice--" "there, there," pollio said laughing, "let us hear nothing about berenice. she is a self willed woman, and i am not responsible for her doings, and want to hear nothing more of them than she chooses to tell me." by this time they had reached the farmhouse, where a meal was speedily prepared, and they sat talking together until evening, when pollio and his companion returned to rhegium. another three months passed. there was now no lack of food among the outlaws. they still hunted, but it was for amusement, buying sheep and other animals from the villagers, together with all else they required, the natives rejoicing in finding good customers instead of dangerous neighbours among the hills. at last the signal smokes again ascended, and beric, taking aemilia with him, made his way to the farmhouse, where he learned that nepo had been there with a message that he desired to see beric in rhegium. this was sufficient to show that muro's mission had been to some extent successful, and after resting for an hour or two at the farmhouse they descended the hill. beric had purchased suitable garments to replace the goatskins which had for a long time previously been worn by the outlaws, their rough work in the woods having speedily reduced their garments to rags, and save that men looked up and marvelled his size, he passed almost unnoticed through the streets of rhegium to the house of the general. orders had been given that he was to be admitted, for the sentries passed him without question. as the slave at the door conducted them into the atrium muro advanced with outstretched hands. "welcome! thrice welcome, beric! had i not heard from pollio how you had changed, i should not have recognized in you the british lad i parted with six years ago in britain. and this is your wife? pollio, spare your cousin to me for a moment. i am glad to know you, aemilia. i never met your father, though i have often heard of him as a noble roman, and i know that his daughter is worthy of being the wife of beric, not only from what i have heard of you from my son in law, but from your readiness to share the exile and perils of your husband. i see that berenice has greeted you as if she knew you. a month since i should have said that that was impossible," and a smile passed over his face, "but now i may admit that it may have been. and now for my news. i have seen galba, and have strongly represented to him the whole facts of the case, and i have, under his hand, a free pardon for yourself and all your followers, who are permitted to go wheresoever they please, without molestation from any. but more than that, i have represented to him how useful it would be that the britons of the east, where the great rising against rome took place, should be governed by one of their own chiefs, who, having a knowledge of the might and power of rome, would, more than any other, be able to influence them in remaining peaceful and adopting somewhat of our civilization. he has, therefore, filled up an appointment creating you provincial governor of that part of britain lying north of the thames as far as the northern estuary, and bounded on the east by the region of swamps--the land of the trinobantes, the iceni, and a portion of the brigantes--with full power over that country, and answerable only to the propraetor himself. moreover, he has written to him on the subject, begging him to give you a free hand, and to support you warmly against the minor roman officials of the district. i need not say that i answered for you fully, and pledged myself that you would in all things be faithful to rome, and would use your influence to the utmost to reconcile the people to our rule." beric was for a time too overcome to be able to thank muro for his kindness. "i have repaid in a small way the debt that i and pollio owe you," he said. "the senate has not at present ratified the appointment, but that is a mere form, and it will not be presented to them until galba arrives. they are eagerly looking for his coming to free them from the excesses and tyranny of the praetorian guard, led by nymphidius the prefect, who has himself been scheming to succeed nero, and they will ratify without question all that galba may request. in the meantime there need be no delay. we can charter a ship to convey you and your british and gaulish followers to massilia. galba is already supreme there, and thence you can travel as a roman official of high rank. i will, of course, furnish you with means to do so." "in that respect i am still well provided," beric said. "nero, with all his faults, was generous, and was, in addition to my appointments, continually loading me with presents, which i could not refuse. even after paying for all that was necessary for my band during the past year, i am a wealthy man, and have ample to support aemilia in luxury to the end of our lives." "you will, of course, draw no pay until your arrival in britain; but after that your appointment will be ample. however, i shall insist upon chartering the ship to convey you to massilia." the beacon fires were lighted again next morning, and an hour later beric met boduoc, whom he had, on leaving, directed to follow with the britons, and to post himself near the crest of the hills. he returned with him to the band, who were transported with delight at hearing the news. messengers were at once sent off to the party under gatho, and on the following day the whole band reassembled, the joy of the gauls being no less than that of the britons. "you will have to take me with you, beric," porus said. "i am fit for nothing here save the arena. i have been away from scythia since i was a boy, and should find myself a stranger there." "i will gladly take you, porus, and will find you a wife among my countrywomen. you have shared in my perils, and should share in my good fortunes. you must all remain here among the hills till i send you up word that the ship is in readiness. boduoc will come down with me, and will send up to the farm garments to replace your sheepskins, for truly rhegium would be in an uproar did you descend in your present garb. boduoc will bring you instructions as to your coming down. it were best that you came after nightfall, and in small parties, and went direct on board the ship which he will point out to you. we do not wish to attract attention or to cause a talk in the town, as the news would be carried to rome, and the senate might question the right of muro to act upon a document which they have not yet ratified. therefore we wish it kept quiet until the arrival of galba at rome." a week later the whole party stood on the deck of a ship in the port of rhegium. beric had bidden farewell to muro at his house; pollio and berenice accompanied him and aemilia on board. "i do not mean this as a farewell for ever, beric," pollio said. "i foresee that we are going to have troubled times in rome. nero was the last of his race, and no one now has greater right than his fellows to be emperor. now that they have once begun these military insurrections, for the proclamation of galba was nothing else, i fear we shall have many more. the throne is open now to any ambitious man who is strong enough to grasp it. generals will no longer think of defeating the enemies of their country and of ruling provinces. as propraetors they will seek to gain the love and vote of their soldiers; discipline will become relaxed, and the basest instead of the noblest passions of the troops be appealed to. we may have civil wars again, like those of marius and scylla, and anthony and brutus. i hate the intrigues of rome, and loathe the arts of the demagogue, and to this our generals will descend. therefore i shall soon apply for service in britain again. muro approves, and when i obtain an office there he will come out and build another villa, and settle and end his days there. "there is little chance of the troops in britain dealing in intrigues. they are too far away to make their voice heard, too few to impose their will upon rome. therefore he agrees with me that there is more chance of peace and contentment there than anywhere. the britons have given no trouble since the iceni surrendered, and i look to the time when we shall raise our towns there and live surrounded by a contented people. you may visit muro at his house in camalodunum once again, beric." "it will be a happy day for us when you come, pollio, you and berenice; and glad indeed shall i be to have her noble father dwelling among us. whatever troubles there may be in other parts of britain i cannot say, but i think i can answer that in eastern britain there will never again be a rising." "they are throwing off the ropes," pollio said; "we must go ashore. may the gods keep and bless you both!" "and may my god, who has almost become beric's god, also bless you and berenice and muro!" aemilia said. ten minutes later the ship had left port, and was making her way up the straits of messina. the weather was fair with a southerly wind, running before which the ship coasted along inside the mountainous isle of sardinia, passed through the straits between that and corsica, then shaped its course for massilia, where it arrived without adventure. there was some surprise in the town at the appearance of beric and his followers, and they were escorted by the guard at the port to the house of the chief magistrate. on beric's presenting to him his appointment, signed by galba, and the safe conduct for himself and his comrades, the magistrate invited him and aemilia to stay at his house. there were many officials to whom aemilia was known when she dwelt there with her father, and for ten days they stayed in the city. the gauls of beric's party proceeded to their various destinations on the day after they landed, beric making a present to each to enable them to defray the expenses of their travel to their respective homes, and obtaining a separate safe conduct for each from the chief magistrate. bidding adieu to their friends at massilia the britons started north. while in the town beric obtained for his twenty followers a dress which was a mixture of that of the britons and romans, having the trousers or leggings of the british and the short roman tunic. all were armed with sword, shield, and spear. aemilia travelled in a carriage; the two female slaves had been given their freedom and left behind at rhegium. beric was handsomely attired in a dress suitable to his rank, but, like his followers, wore the british leggings. a horse was taken with them for him to ride when they passed through towns, but generally it was led by philo, and beric marched with his men. they took long journeys, for the men were all eager to be home, and, inured as they were to fatigue, thought nothing of doing each day double the distance that was regarded as an ordinary day's journey. at the towns through which they passed the people gazed with surprise at beric and his bodyguard, and warm sympathy was shown by the gauls for the britons returning after their captivity in rome. on arriving at the northwesterly port of gaul, beric learned that london, verulamium, and camalodunum had been rebuilt, and that the propraetor had established himself in london as his chief place of residence. beric therefore hired a ship, which sailed across the straits to the mouth of the thames, ascended the river, and four days after putting out anchored at london. beric and his followers were surprised at the change which had been effected in the six years which had passed since they saw it a heap of ruins. a temple of diana had been erected on the highest point of ground. near this was the palace of the propraetor, and numerous villas of the roman officials were scattered on the slopes. a strong wall surrounded the roman quarter, beyond which clustered the houses of the traders, already forming a place of considerable size. upon landing beric proceeded, accompanied by boduoc, to the palace of the propraetor, to whom he presented galba's letter especially recommending him, and his own official appointment. celsius, who had succeeded petronius as propraetor, had received beric sitting; but upon reading the document rose and greeted him cordially. "i have heard much of you, beric, since i came here," he said, "and many have been the entreaties of your people to me that i would write to rome to pray caesar to restore you to them. i did so write to nero, but received no reply; but my friends keep me acquainted with what is passing there, and the story of your combat with the lion in the arena, and of your heading a revolt in nero's palace reached me. as it was about the time of the latter event that i wrote to caesar, i wondered not that i received no answer to my letter. after that i heard that you had been giving terrible trouble in bruttium to caius muro, and little dreamed that my next news of you would be that galba had appointed you governor of the eastern province." "it was upon the recommendation and by the good offices of muro," beric said. "i had been brought up at his house at camalodunum, and had the good fortune to save his daughter's life at the sack of that city. he knew that i had been driven by the conduct of nero into revolt, and that, even though in arms against rome, i and my band had injured and robbed no roman man or woman. he represented to galba that, holding in high respect the power of rome, and being well regarded by my people here, i should, more than any stranger, be able to persuade them of the madness of any further rising against the imperial power, and to induce them to apply themselves to the arts of agriculture, and to become, like the gauls, a settled people contented and prosperous. "these arguments had weight with the emperor, who, as you see, has been pleased to appoint me governor of the province that my people occupied, together with that adjoining on the south, formerly belonging to the trinobantes, and on the north occupied by a portion of the brigantes." "i think the emperor has done well, and i look for great results from your appointment, beric. i am convinced that it is the best policy to content a conquered people by placing over them men of their own race and tongue, instead of filling every post by strangers who are ignorant of their ways and customs, and whose presence and dress constantly remind them that they are governed by their conquerors. where do you think of establishing yourself--at camalodunum?" "no. camalodunum is a roman town; the people would not so freely come to me there to arbitrate in their disputes. i shall fix it at norwich, which lies midway between camalodunum and the northern boundary of the province, and through which, as i hear, one of your roads has now been made." after staying three days in london as the guest of celsius, beric started for the seat of his government, attended by his own bodyguard and a centurion with a company of roman soldiers. the news that a british governor had been appointed to the province spread rapidly, and at verulamium, where he stopped for two days, crowds of the country people assembled and greeted him with shouts of welcome. beric assured them that he had been sent by the emperor galba, who desired to see peace and contentment reign in britain, and had therefore appointed a countryman of their own as governor of their province, and that, though he should make norwich the place of his government, he should journey about throughout the country, listen to all complaints and grievances, and administer justice against offenders, whatever their rank and station. above all he exhorted them to tranquillity and obedience. "rome wishes you well," he said, "and would fain see you as contented beneath her sway as is gaul, and as are the other countries she has conquered and occupied. we form part of the roman empire now, that is as fixed and irrevocable as the rising and setting of the sun. to struggle against rome is as great a folly as for an infant to wrestle with a giant. but once forming a part of the empire we shall share in its greatness. towns will rise over the land and wealth increase, and all will benefit by the civilization that rome will bring to us." he addressed similar speeches to the people at each halting place, and was everywhere applauded, for the trinobantes had felt most heavily the power of rome, and all thought of resistance had faded out since the terrible slaughter that followed the defeat of boadicea. beric did not turn aside to enter camalodunum, but kept his course north. the news of his coming had preceded him, and the iceni flocked to meet him, and gave him an enthusiastic welcome. they were proud of him as a national hero; he alone of their chiefs had maintained resistance against the romans, and his successes had obliterated the humiliation of their great defeat. great numbers of those who came to meet him owed their lives to the refuge he had provided for them in the swamps, and they considered that it was to his influence they owed it, that after his capture they were allowed to return to their native villages, and to take up their life there unmolested by the romans. the members of his band, too, found relations and friends among the crowd, and it added to their enthusiasm that beric had brought back with him every one of his companions in captivity. aemilia was much affected at the evidence of her husband's popularity, and at the shouting crowd of great fair haired men and women who surged round the escort, and who, when beric took her by the hand and bidding her stand up in the chariot presented her to the iceni as his wife, shouted for her almost as enthusiastically as they had done for him. "what a little insignificant thing these tall british matrons and maids must think me, beric!" she said. "we all admire our opposites, aemilia, that is how it was that you came to fall in love with me; these people can have seen but few roman ladies, and doubtless there is not one among them who does not think as i do, that with your dark hair and eyes, and the rich colour of your cheek, you are the loveliest woman that they ever saw." "if they knew what you were saying they would lose all respect for you, beric," she said laughing and colouring. "we have been married nearly a year, sir--a great deal too long for you to pay me compliments." "you must remember that you are in britain now, aemilia, and though in rome men regard themselves as the lords and masters of their wives it is not so here, where women are looked upon as in every way equal to men. i expect that you will quite change under the influence of british air, and that though i am nominally governor it is you who will rule. you will see that in a short time the people will come to you with their petitions as readily as to me." as soon as beric established himself at norwich he set about the erection of a suitable abode; the funds were provided as was usual from the treasury of the province--a certain sum from the taxes raised being set aside to pay the share of the national tribute to rome, while the rest was devoted to the payment of officials, the construction of roads, public works, and buildings. long before the house was finished a child was born to beric, the event being celebrated with great festivity by the iceni, contrary to their own customs, for among themselves a birth was regarded rather as an occasion of mourning than of rejoicing. beric set vigorously to work to put the affairs of the province in order; he appointed boduoc to an important office under him, and to act for him during his absences, which were at first frequent, as he constantly travelled about the country holding courts, redressing grievances, punishing and degrading officials who had abused their position or ill treated the people, and appointing in many cases natives in their places. bitter complaints were made by the dispossessed roman officials to celsius, who, however, declined in any way to interfere, saying that beric had received the fullest powers from galba, and that, moreover, did he interfere with him it was clear that there would be another revolt of the iceni. galba fell, and was succeeded by otho, who was very shortly afterwards followed by vespasian, a just, though severe emperor. complaints were laid before him by powerful families, whose relations had been dismissed by beric, and the latter was ordered to furnish a full explanation of his conduct. beric replied by a long and full report of his government. vespasian was greatly struck alike by the firmness with which beric defended himself, and by the intelligence and activity with which, as the report showed, he had conducted the affairs of his province; he therefore issued an order for the disaffected officials to return at once to rome, confirmed beric in the powers granted him by galba, and gave him full authority to dismiss even the highest roman officials in the district should he see occasion to do so. roman towns and stations had sprung up all over the island, roads and bridges opened the way for trade. now that the tribal wars had ceased, and the whole people had become welded into one, they turned their attention more and more to agriculture. the forest diminished rapidly in extent; the roman plough took the place of the rough hoe of the briton, houses of brick and stone that of rough huts; intermarriages became frequent. the roman legionaries became established as military colonists and took british wives. the foreign traders and artisans, who formed the bulk of the populations of the towns, did the same; and although this in the end had the effect of diminishing the physical proportions of the british, and lowering the lofty stature and size that had struck the romans on their landing with astonishment, it introduced many characteristics hitherto wanting in the race, and aided in their conversion from tribes of fierce warriors into a settled and semi-civilized people. among the many who came to britain, were some christians who sought homes in the distant island to escape the persecutions at rome. there was soon a colony of these settled at norwich under the protection of aemilia. they brought with them an eloquent priest, and in a short time beric, already strongly inclined to the christian religion, openly accepted that faith, which spread rapidly throughout his government. porus was not long in finding a british wife, and never regretted the day when he left the ludus of scopus and joined his fortunes to those of beric. philo embraced christianity, and became a priest of that church. a year after beric came to britain he and aemilia were delighted by the arrival of pollio and berenice with caius muro. the former had at the accession of otho, with whom his family were connected, obtained a civil appointment in britain, and at beric's request celsius appointed him to the control of the collection of taxes in his district, there being constant complaints among the people of the rapacity and unfairness of the roman official occupying this position. pollio therefore established himself also at norwich; muro, with whom came cneius nepo, taking up his residence there with him, and as many other roman families were there, neither aemilia nor berenice ever regretted the loss of the society of rome. pollio proved an excellent official, and ably seconded beric in his efforts to render the people contented. had beric foreseen the time when the romans would abandon britain, and leave it to the mercy of the savages of the north and of the pirates of north germany and scandinavia, he would have seen that the extinction of the martial qualities of the british would lead to their ruin; but that rome would decay and fall to pieces and become the prey of barbarians, was a contingency beyond human ken, and he and those who worked with him thought that the greatest blessing they could bestow upon their country was to render it a contented and prosperous province of the roman empire. this he succeeded in doing in his own government, and when, full of years and rich in the affection of his countrymen, he died, his son succeeded him in the government, and for many generations the eastern division of the island was governed by descendants of beric the briton. the end 