Lords of the World: A story of the fall of Carthage and Corinth

by Alfred John Church

  CHAPTER XXIV.

  IN SORE NEED.

  Cleanor succeeded in landing without attracting, as far as he knew, anyobservation. He lent a hand to the disembarking of the cargo of the_Sea-mew_, and after going to and fro between the ship and thewarehouse some half-dozen times, quietly slipped away. It was now far ontowards midnight. The rest of the night he spent in a shed. This gavehim shelter; of food he had been careful to provide as large a supply ashe could conveniently carry. He foresaw an immediate use for it.

  Rising--it cannot be said waking, as he scarcely slept during the wholenight--as soon as the earliest light of dawn made its way into hisresting-place, he made his way out of the inclosure which surrounded thedocks by an exit which he had observed during his sojourn in the city,and had noted for possible use in the future. He was still fortunateenough not to be seen.

  This done, he soon made his way to the street where he remembered thehouse of his foster-mother, Theoxena, to be situated. It was still earlymorning, and but very few persons were about, these being almostentirely women, who were fetching water from the public fountain at theend of the street. He was not long in recognizing among these hisfoster-mother, and it went to his heart to see how pale and wasted shelooked, and how slowly and painfully she moved under the slight burdenof the pitcher which she carried upon her shoulder.

  He was careful not to betray himself by look or movement, for he wasanxious to know whether his disguise was successful. If her eyes,sharpened by a love that was almost as strong as a mother's, did notdiscover him, he felt that he was safe, and on this not only his ownlife but the power to help others depended. He passed her slowly,exaggerating a little the limp caused by his lameness. She looked at himtwice, the second time, he thought, with a momentary awakening ofinterest, which, however, died away almost as soon as it appeared.

  And now chance gave him a fully convincing proof of how completely shehad failed to recognize him. At the very moment of his passing she madea slight stumble, her feebleness probably causing her to drag her feet.The pitcher shook upon her shoulder, and was in imminent danger offalling. Cleanor caught it with his hand, and steadied it till she hadrecovered herself. She looked at him with a little smile of thanks,murmured a few words of acknowledgment of his help, and passed on, inwhat was evidently complete ignorance of his identity.

  This was proof enough for Cleanor. Looking round and hastily satisfyinghimself that there was no one near, he murmured "Theoxena". She startedand looked at him, but still without recognition, for his voice wasdisguised. The art of doing this was an accomplishment in which he wasalmost perfect; and indeed, the most elaborate dressing up of featuresand figure is of but little avail without the disguised voice.

  "What, mother Theoxena," he added in his natural tones, "don't you knowyour son?"

  In a moment her face beamed with delighted recognition. Pressing hisfinger on his lips to enjoin silence, he stepped up to her door, which,happily, was close at hand. Had it taken her more than two or threesteps to reach it she must have fallen in the street. As it was, he hadalmost to lift her across the threshold, and to put her in one of thetwo chairs which formed part of the very scanty furniture of the room.Seeing that she wanted help, he ventured to call out the name of Daphne.

  In a few seconds the girl appeared. She was dressing, and had been aboutto bind up her hair when she was startled by the sudden call. Herlocks--cut short, the reader will remember, to furnish the string of abow--had grown enough to fall over her shoulders, and were even moreluxuriant and brilliant than ever. But her face was a piteous contrastto their splendour--so pale, so wasted, so worn with suffering was it.The eyes, which had haunted the young man's memory, looked larger thanbefore, so shrunk were her cheeks, and their look was pathetic beyondexpression. She seemed scarcely to observe the presence of a stranger,but flew to her mother's side and busied herself with the task ofrestoring her to consciousness.

  When Theoxena began to revive, Cleanor put a few drops of a strongcordial wine which he carried in a flask between her lips, and had thepleasure of seeing a faint tinge of colour show itself in her cheeks. Ina few minutes more she was sufficiently recovered to sit up. Cleanorwould not permit her to talk.

  "Not a word," he said; "you are not strong enough yet. You must besatisfied for the present with seeing me alive and well. The rest we canpostpone. Do you think she could eat something?" he went on, turning tothe girl.

  Poor Daphne's eyes filled with tears. "We have nothing in the house,sir," she said. "We had a little crust of rye-bread at noon yesterday,but she said that she was not hungry, and made me eat nearly all of it."

  Cleanor was horrified. He had expected to find them in great want, butthis actual starvation was worse than he had looked for. He glancedhastily round the room. He had already noticed that it was very bare. Henow saw that it had been stripped of almost everything. Daphne observedhis look, and explained.

  "We have had to sell nearly all the furniture for food, and oh, sir,they give so little for the things! I know that money is very scarce,and the dealers are quite besieged with people who want to sell theirfurniture and clothes, but I can't help thinking that they cheat mebecause I am a girl and cannot help myself. Six days ago I sold mother'sbed for eight drachmas--I remember her telling me that it costthirty--and the eight were only enough to buy two rye-loaves and twoanchovies. Poor mother does find it so hard to eat the bread alone.These lasted us till yesterday. We should have had nothing but for theold man who lives next door. He had a grandson who used to play withour little Cephalus. The dear little boy died about a month ago, and theold man always will make us have what he calls the child's portion. Ithas been getting to be very small lately, for the old man's pension isnot large, and money buys less and less every day. But I don't know whatwe should have done without it."

  "Well," said Cleanor, "you will have me to help you now. I suppose, bythe way, you remember who I am?"

  "Yes, sir," replied the girl; "it was you that were so kind to us aboutCephalus."

  "You ought to have remembered, then, to call me not 'sir' but brother;or, better still, Cleanor. But now about food. This will be better thannothing for the present."

  He produced from the pack which he carried some twice-baked bread,something like what we call biscuit, and some strips of dried goat'sflesh. It was pitiful to see how the girl tried to hide the eager lookwhich would come into her eyes at the sight of the food. The elder womanhad almost ceased to care for life, but youth protests against sufferingand will make its voice heard.

  "CLEANOR PRODUCED FROM THE PACK WHICH HE CARRIED SOMETWICE-BAKED BREAD."]

  The meal was not abundant. Cleanor's prudence restricted the supply,because he feared the reaction after a long period of starvation. Whenit was finished he said, "Now, let us see what is to be done."

  "We heard you were dead," began Theoxena--"killed, too, so they said,by our own people. The gods be thanked a thousand times that it isn'ttrue!"

  "Well," said Cleanor, "that is past and done with. We won't talk aboutwhat other people have done or tried to do. Here I am alive, and hopingto keep alive in spite of them, and I have come to see what I can do foryou."

  "But what do you mean?" cried the woman. "Where have you been? Where doyou come from?"

  "Well," replied Cleanor, "I came from Egypt last of all, and before thatI was in the Roman camp, where I found, I am bound to say, very kindfriends."

  "But have you really come back into this doomed city--for doomed itcertainly is--when you were actually safe and among friends outside?"

  "Yes, I have, if you must know. And what else could I do? You don'tsuppose I was going to leave you to perish here while I was safe andcomfortable outside?"

  "But why? What claim--?"

  "Do you ask me what claim? You are my mother, Daphne here is my sister.I have friends, and kind friends too, but you are all the home I have.So that is disposed of. I have come back to get you safe out ofCarthage, and we must consider how that is to be done. But before I sa
yanything more, how about the little boy?"

  "I have never seen him, but I have heard several times--the last timewas only four days ago--that he is well. Oh! how can I thank youenough?"

  "We'll talk about thanks another time, dear mother," said Cleanor with asmile. "We must think about the present."

  "I hear," said Theoxena, "that everyone is to move into the Upper City.Hasdrubal thinks that there is no chance of defending the rest. I wouldas soon--I would sooner stop here and die. But you see it is not onlydying that one has to fear. That would be easy enough. We must go; yetwhere shall we find a corner to hide ourselves in, or a crust of breadto eat?"

  "Leave all that to me," said Cleanor. "If it can be done, I will do it;and I think," he added after a moment's pause, "I think that I see away."

  As he spoke there flashed through his mind the thought that he mightfind help where he had found it before. If the physician who had servedhim in the matter of the little Cephalus were still alive, no moreskilful, and, he was sure, no more willing auxiliary could bediscovered.

  "Wait," he said to Theoxena, "you and Daphne, where you are, and don'tshow yourselves more than you can help. Will the provisions I have hereserve you for a day or so?" And he emptied the contents of his pack uponthe table.

  The woman smiled. She and Daphne had contrived to live for not a fewdays upon far less.

  "Yes, it is abundance."

  "Till to-morrow, then," cried the young man with a gaiety which he didnot feel. If the physician should be unable to help, or should havedied!

  Happily this misfortune was spared him. Cleanor found the man, and,thanks to his knowledge of his habits, without loss of time. It wasstill an hour short of noon when he saw the leech coming out of acasemate in the wall, which he was accustomed to visit at that hour forthe purpose of inspecting the newly wounded.

  "This is a good sight," cried the physician. "What Æsculapius hasbrought you back from the dead? They told me that you were killed, and Ifeared that they had only too good reason for knowing that it was true."

  "That," said the Greek, "is a long story, and will keep. As usual, Iwant your help."

  "You are not ill?--no, I have never seen you look better. What is it?"

  Cleanor told him his story.

  The physician looked grave, and after a pause he said: "You are wantingfor your two friends what a couple of hundred thousands of people inthis city are wanting--a safe place of shelter. Yet it can be found; allthings can be found, if one knows where to look for them. But it will becostly, very costly." And he looked inquisitively at the young Greek,who certainly, in his pedlar's dress, did not look as if he had thecommand of boundless wealth.

  Cleanor understood the look, and whispered a few words in the old man'sear.

  "That is capital," he said with an admiring glance. "You are certainly ayoung man of business."

  Cleanor had, in fact, brought with him, in view of any possiblenecessities that might arise, an ample supply of means in the mostportable, and therefore most valuable form that wealth under thecircumstances of the time could possibly bear. Gold, precious as it is,is not very portable. A really wealthy man would require a whole caravanto transport his fortune from one place to another if it were in theshape of gold. Paper money--for the ancient world did business by billsof exchange very much as we do--was not available. The commercial creditof Carthage had collapsed for ever.

  The one readily available vehicle for wealth was precious stones. Thesehad risen in Carthage to an almost incredible price. Sooner or later,everyone felt, the city would be taken. When that should happen, goldwould be almost useless. The one chance of preserving it, and that but aslight one, would be to bury it. That might hide it from the enemy, butmight very probably also hide it from the owner. Jewels, on the otherhand, could be carried anyhow. If a man could contrive to escape at all,he could also contrive to escape with a fortune, so invested, about him.Cleanor, accordingly, was now utilizing this part of the old king'sbounty. He carried round his waist, next to his skin, a slendergirdle-purse in which he had stored a number of jewels. This he wasresolved not to lose except with his life. While he kept this, he feltthat he could do anything that money could accomplish.

  "Come home with me," said the physician, "and talk this matter over. Youare best out of sight, for someone might recognize you in spite of yourdisguise, and that would be very awkward indeed."