CHAPTER XXVII.
A PRECIOUS BOOK.
It is time to explain what had happened to Cleanor while the eventsrecorded in the last chapter were proceeding. He had remained within thephysician's house during the six days' fighting in the streets. Thehouse had been turned into something like a hospital, and the youngGreek found plenty of employment in doing such services as a lay handcould render to his host's patients. The physician was naturally one ofthe deputation which, as has been described, waited on the conqueror onthe morning of the seventh day, and he took his guest with him in thecharacter of his assistant. Nor could Cleanor escape an emotion ofrelief to find himself again under Roman protection. It was a curiouschange from the feelings that had dominated him a few months before, butthe constraining power of circumstances had been too much for him. Hisfirst care was to ascertain the fate of Theoxena and her daughter. Hereit was necessary to proceed with caution. It would not be wise to makeinquiries at random. The person whom he could most safely trust wasScipio, the young officer, whom he was, of course, anxious to see forother reasons. To his great delight he found that his friend was theofficer in command of the guard to which the safety of the temple ofApollo in the arsenal had been committed. He found an opportunity ofsending a message by a soldier who happened to be off duty for the time.Hardly an hour had elapsed when he received an answer. It ran thus:
"_A thousand congratulations. We had almost given you up for lost, only that the gods are manifestly determined to make up to you for some part at least of what you have suffered. Come at once: I have much to say to you!_"
The meeting between the two friends was very affectionate. Cleanor,postponing the narrative of his own adventures to some futureopportunity, at once took the young Roman officer into his confidence.
"You may rest assured that your friends are safe. There has been a guardover the private apartments attached to the temple; and I have takencare to have trustworthy men, as I always should in such a case. But Ican tell you that your friends have had a very narrow escape. If thegeneral had not arrived just at the right time, the whole building wouldhave been reduced to ashes."
He then proceeded to relate the story which the reader has alreadyheard. Cleanor listened with emotion that he could hardly conceal. Hownearly had all his efforts been in vain! How narrowly had these two--whowere all that remained to him of his old life--escaped destruction!
Young Scipio's narrative was hardly finished when the conversation ofthe friends was interrupted by the arrival of an orderly bringing amessage from the general. The official despatch, accompanied by a letterexpressed in more familiar terms, ran thus:
"_I have learnt that a manuscript of the very highest value, which I have a special charge from the Senate and People of Rome to preserve, to wit, the Treatise of Hanno on Agriculture, has always been and is now in the custody of the priests of Apollo in the arsenal. I commission you, therefore, as officer commanding the guard of the said temple, to make inquiries of these same priests, and to take the book into your keeping, for which this present writing shall be your authority._"
The private letter was to this effect:
"_I have just learnt from Hasdrubal--and the information is so valuable that it almost reconciles me to having had to spare the villain's life--that the precious book on Agriculture is to be found in the temple of which you have charge. Lose no time in getting it into your possession. It is supposed to contain secrets of the very greatest value. Anyhow, the authorities at home attach great importance to its preservation. To lose it would be a disaster. I can rely, I know, on your prudence and energy._"
"Cleanor, can you throw any light on this matter?" asked the Roman.
"No," was the answer, "except to tell you what I know about the priests.There are two attached to the temple. One is an old man--almost, as Iunderstand, in his dotage--whom I did not see; the other, his son,middle-aged, with whom I negotiated the affair of which I told you. Thatis absolutely all that I know, except that my friend the physiciandescribed the son as being on the whole an honourable man, who could betrusted the more implicitly the more one made it worth his while to betrue."
"That," said young Scipio, "is the man whom I saw the day that I tookcharge of the temple. He came to thank me. Since then he has neverappeared. The services have been intermitted. They could hardly, indeed,have been carried on with all these soldiers in the place. He is thefirst person of whom to make inquiries."
Scipio then summoned the centurion, who was nominally his second incommand. The man was a veteran who had seen more than twentycampaigns--his first experience of war had been at Pydna under the greatÆmilius Paullus--an excellent soldier in his way, but without muchjudgment in matters outside his own narrow sphere of experience.
"Convey," young Scipio said to this officer, "a respectful request tothe priest of the temple that he will favour me with an interview."
In due course the priest appeared. It had been arranged between thefriends that no reference should be made to the shelter given to thewomen.
"I am informed," said Scipio, "that you have charge, as priest of thistemple, of a certain book relating to agriculture."
"You are right, sir," replied the man, "so far as this: there is such abook, and it is kept in this place; but it is not in my charge. Myfather is the priest, and it is in his custody."
"Let me see your father, then," said the young officer.
"Unhappily, sir," replied the man, "he is incapable of answering or evenof hearing a question. He has been failing in mind for some time, andthe events of the last few days have greatly affected him. This morninghe had a stroke of paralysis, and has been unconscious ever since."
"But you know," said Scipio, "where the book is?"
"As a matter of fact," the priest answered, "I know, or, to put thematter more strictly, I believe that I know. But the secret has beenvery jealously guarded. It has been usual for the priest to hand overthe charge formally to his successor when he felt himself failing. Tomeet the case that the priest might die suddenly, or fail for some otherreason to communicate the secret in due course, the Shophetim were alsoin possession of it. They have also another copy of the treatise."
"And where was that kept?" asked Scipio.
"In the temple of Æsculapius, but in what part of the temple of course Iknow not."
"If it was there it must have perished," said the Roman. "Nothing couldhave been left after the tremendous fire of yesterday. Lead the way andshow us the place that you have in your mind."
"It shall be done, sir," said the man. "But let me first see how itfares with my father. It is possible that he may yet revive."
Permission was, of course, granted, and he went. Before many minutes hereturned.
"My father has passed away," he said in a low voice, "and withoutbecoming conscious even for a moment; so the woman that was inattendance told me. Follow me, sir."
He led the way down a flight of steps, and then along a passage to thechamber in which it terminated. The door was carefully concealed in thewall, with the surface of which it was entirely uniform. The priest,however, had no difficulty in opening it. He pressed a secret spring,and it opened.
"This," he said, as they entered a small lofty room lighted from above,"is the priest's private chamber. The book should be somewhere here. Butat this point my knowledge comes to an end."
"If I might hazard a guess," said Cleanor, "the hiding-place issomewhere in the floor. One would naturally, perhaps, look for anothersecret door in the wall, hence it is likely that some other way ofconcealing it would be tried. Anyhow, let us begin with the floor."
The place was easily, as it will be seen, too easily found. As soon asthe matting which covered the floor was removed, it became evident thata part of the boarding had been recently moved.
"That is it," exclaimed the four men--the centurion had accompanied theparty--almost in the same breath.
"I don't like the look of t
his," added Cleanor, whose quick Greekintelligence had promptly taken in the situation. "It has been taken."
He was right. When the boarding was lifted, it revealed an empty space.All that remained was a wrapper of silk, which might very well haveserved--for there was nothing on it that absolutely indicated thefact--for a covering to the volume.
"What is to be done now?" said Scipio, as the four looked at each otherwith faces full of blank disappointment.
"My father," said the priest, after a short pause of reflection, "musthave taken it away. He evidently did it in a hurry without carefullyreplacing the boards. He might have concealed the joining so well thatit would have been very hard to find. See," and he put the covering backin such a way that the spot was absolutely undistinguishable from therest of the floor. "This makes me sure that it has been done quiterecently, and when he was not quite himself."
"I wonder," said Cleanor, "whether by chance your guests could tell usanything about it?"
"My guests!" cried the priest, vainly endeavouring to conceal hisdismay.
"Don't trouble yourself, my good friend," said Scipio with a smile. "Myfriend Cleanor has taken me into his confidence, and I think you havedone very well in helping him in this matter. It is just possible that,as he suggests, the women may have seen something,--enough to give us aclue."
"Possibly," said the priest. "The book was far too bulky to be easilydestroyed. That I know, though I have never had it in my hands. But itmay have been put away where it will be hard to find."
"Cleanor," said Scipio, after a brief reflection, "will you go and seewhat you can find out? The priest will show you the way."
Cleanor accordingly followed the priest to the apartment which had beenassigned to Theoxena and her daughter. Only the elder woman was visible.Daphne, she assured Cleanor, after an exchange of affectionategreetings, was quite well, but was busy at the moment with someneedlework. When questioned about the old priest and his movements, shehad no information of any importance to give. He had been very strangein manner, constantly muttering, but so indistinctly that she could notcatch more than a word or two here and there. She had, it is true,caught the word "treasure" once or twice. She had certainly not seenhim with anything in his hands. Daphne, however, might have more to say.The old man had seemed to take a fancy to her, and had talked to her agood deal.
Daphne accordingly was fetched by her mother, and came in covered with acharming confusion, which, in the young Greek's eyes, added not a littleto her beauty. It was the fact, indeed, that the few days of peace whichshe had enjoyed with her mother in their place of refuge had made amarvellous change for the better in her looks. The hunted expression hadgone out of her eyes, which, deep as ever, were now limpid and calm. Thecheeks which, when Cleanor had last seen them, were wan and worn, werealready rounded, and touched with the delicate tint of returning health.Cleanor did not fail to note all this with the greatest satisfaction,but for the time he was absorbed by the interest of the story which shehad to tell about the old priest.
"I saw the old man," she said, "on the first day of our coming here. Heseemed to take me for someone else. In fact, once or twice he called meby some name which sounded like Judith, but I could not catch itdistinctly. Commonly he spoke to me as his daughter. He had no son, hesaid, I was all that he had left. He had evidently something on his mindthat troubled him greatly. He would talk about 'a treasure' which he hadin his keeping, and which he must hand over to the right person, onlythat he did not know where this person was. 'Anyhow,' and when he saidthis his voice seemed to grow stronger, and his eyes to lighten up,'anyhow, the enemy must not be allowed to get it.' After the uproar thattook place in the temple one day--we did not know what had happened, butwe guessed that the Romans had made their way in, and we were very muchfrightened--he was much worse. That same evening he said to me,'Daughter, I want you to help me. Come with me.' He took me down aflight of steps, and then along a passage which seemed to end in a wall.When we were almost at the end, he said, 'Now, turn round and shut youreyes. You must not see what I am going to do.' I did what he told me,and waited. In about half an hour he came back, panting very much andbreathing hard. He carried a great roll in his arms. I could not seewhat it was."
"Did it look like a book?" asked Cleanor.
"Yes," replied the girl, "it might have been a book. I asked him whetherI should carry it for him. 'No,' he said, 'no woman has ever touched it.Indeed, no woman has ever seen it before. I hope that I have not donewrong. But what was I to do? I had no one else to help me. And anyhow,the enemy must never have it.' We went up the passage, and down another,till we came to a place where one of the stones in the pavement had aring in it. 'Now you must help me,' he said. 'I have got to take thatstone up.' We both pulled away at the stone as hard as we could. Forsome time we seemed to make no impression at all. Then he went away andcame in a few minutes with a lantern, for by this time it was gettingquite dark, and a chisel. 'Work the mortar away from the edges,' hesaid, 'my eyes are too old to see.' So I worked the mortar out, and thenwe pulled again. I don't think that I did very much, but he seemed toget wonderfully strong with the excitement. At last we felt that it wasbeginning to give, and in the end we pulled it quite away. I heard whatsounded like the lapping of water a long way below. Then the old mantook the roll and dropped it into the hole. After that we put the stoneback into its place."
"And you can take us to the place?" asked Cleanor.
"Certainly," replied the girl.
"I must tell my friends," said Cleanor, "what I have heard. Wait while Igo."
In the course of a few minutes he returned with Scipio and thecenturion. At the latter's suggestion the party provided themselves withtorches, and then proceeded, under Daphne's guidance, to the indicatedspot. The stone was removed from its place, an operation which requiredso great an exertion of strength that there was something almostmiraculous in its having been accomplished before by a decrepit old manand a girl. The priest, it was clear, must have worked with franticenergy.
The first thing was to lower a burning torch. The light revealed a depthwhich might be estimated at some sixty or seventy feet. At the bottomthere was a stream which seemed, as far as could be estimated from thesound, to be moving with some rapidity. Judging from the height of thetemple above the level of the harbour, the water seemed to be aland-spring which flowed into it some way below the surface. The chanceof recovering anything dropped into such a place seemed remote, withoutreckoning the very considerable chance of its being irretrievablydamaged.
Scipio was discussing with Cleanor and the centurion the best method ofproceeding, when Daphne's keen eyes discovered that something seemed tobe resting on a ledge that projected from the side of the well sometwenty feet below the surface. What it was could not be seen, but it wasobviously worth investigating. The only way of doing this was to lowersomeone with ropes, and Cleanor, who was lighter than either of theRomans, volunteered for the service. After some delay ropes of adequatestrength were obtained, Cleanor was lowered to the spot, and the missingtreasure, for the object which Daphne had descried was nothing less, wasrecovered.
"The Roman Commonwealth," said Scipio, making a polite obeisance, "owesvery much to this young lady."
Lords of the World: A story of the fall of Carthage and Corinth Page 29
