CHAPTER VII.
The blow, with which Domitius Afer sought to rid himself of histroublesome client, nigh the huge moonlit pile of the Circus Maximus, onthe night of the attempted assassination of Fabricius, was not lacking inforce, but was a trifle out of direction to prove fatal. Had the strickenman lain without attention, much longer than he did, it would have beensufficient to answer the end that Afer had in view. But it was fated thata house door hard by should open, not long after the knight haddisappeared, to allow a man to pass out into the silent street. Theluckless Cestus was, as described, lying in the shadow of the wall,whither his patron had dragged him. He was, therefore, directly across thevery narrow sidewalk; and, the gloom of the shadow of the wall beingintensified by reason of the bright moonlight adjacent, the individual wehave mentioned did not perceive the body in his hurry, until he was madeaware of its presence by falling over it. He straightway drew the Suburaninto the light to make a more minute examination, not having succeeded inawakening any sign of consciousness. In passing his hand over the breast,his fingers met a damp, clammy matter which caused him to shiver. He heldhis hand in the light, and saw it was blood. The stricken man was stillwarm and breathing, as he thought; so he, at once, ran back to the housewhence he had issued, and knocked loudly. The help of the inmates wasreadily obtained, and the sorely wounded man was borne inside, and laid ona bed, pending the arrival of a physician. That person came, and practisedso well that Cestus recovered consciousness ere he left him.
'Here is no matter of killing for theft,' observed the leech to thehousehold, gathered in concern to hear his dictum, 'unless, indeed, as maybe easily believed, that he was the thief. More likely a street scufflewith some night-hawks of his own feather. 'Tis a deep gash, but ill-aimed.He is a tough rogue, and will recover most likely. Had he been a good,honest citizen of worth to be deplored, he most likely would have died.But being what I take him to be, a rascal, he will come round no doubt. Iam afraid, neighbour, you will never be requited for your benevolence.'
'No matter,' responded the master of the house, who was an elderly man,with sparse, gray hair, and a sad expression of face; 'do your best toeffect a cure, if possible; if he lives, it may perhaps prove a lesson.'
'More likely to walk off with your valuables,' said the physician, as hewent out of the door.
'Never could be such ingratitude,' murmured the other; 'even my wicked,wayward boy would scarce be so inhuman; and he has descended as low,perhaps, as this poor wretch.'
Cestus had every care paid to him, and for some days he remained in acritical state. Then he took a favourable turn for the better, and, aidedby his robust constitution, very shortly became convalescent.
His ingenuity was very lightly taxed to explain his disaster to hisbenefactor. He had refused, he said, to join a society of his fellow-workmen, who, no doubt, had attempted to be rid of him as being a thorn intheir sides. He, likewise, hinted that he would be in danger of his lifeif he remained in Rome, and that he would take the earliest opportunity tobe quit of it. As he was accustomed to lounge away his time in idleness,the period of his confinement did not prove so irksome as it mightotherwise have done. His benefactor learnt to come and converse attolerable length, when he became aware of the patient's plausible andfluent tongue. It was, therefore, impossible, that, speaking thusfamiliarly and often, Cestus should not obtain a certain insight into thefamily affairs of his host. Amongst other things, he discovered that heowned a scapegrace son, whose misdoings were the sorrow of his life. Thegreat and varied knowledge which the Suburan possessed of the outlawry ofthe city, enabled him to pitch upon the erring youth as a denizen of thesame notorious locality as himself. This much he did not think prudent toreveal, and so, at the same time, saved the grieving parent a far darkerevidence of crime than that which he already lamented. Hardened as he was,the old man's sorrow and sense of shame touched him. His narrow escapefrom death and his enfeebled state, no doubt, had softened the crust abouthis heart. Had he been a member of the family he could not have beentended with more care and kindness, and this tugged at his heartstringslikewise. He acknowledged his gratefulness, and, for the time at least, itis certain he felt it. But, in the silent and lonely hours of hisreveries, his mind was constantly engaged in weaving a web around histreacherous patron. It was, literally, war to the knife.
'He thinks I am dead,' he muttered to himself, with a smile ofsatisfaction. 'Good! his awakening will be all the more sudden andstartling.'
When once safely delivered out of the jaws of death, the march of Cestustoward complete recovery was wonderfully rapid. Day by day he made a hugestride, and, day by day, his appetite grew more and more surprising. Whenat length the physician ceased from paying his visits, the patient hintedat his own speedy departure.
'Had it been safe for me to have been removed to my own home I would nothave troubled you so far,' he said to his generous host; 'but I am strongenough now to bear a journey, and I will betake myself from the cityaltogether.'
But his friend in need bade him beware of a relapse, and advised him notto mar a wonderful restoration of strength by premature exertion, for thesake of a few days' earlier liberty. Cestus listened and took the advice,which protracted his sojourn for a week.
His plan of action had already been resolved on from the first, and he nowmade the few arrangements to carry it out. To gather strength and hardenhis frame by gentle exercise he made short excursions out of doors. Thefirst time he did so his entertainer tried to dissuade him, on account ofthe danger he ran of being seen by his supposed enemies.
'Why, master,' returned Cestus, 'there is less danger than you think; for,in the first place, it is the time of day when those fine fellows, wholeft me for dead, with a curse on them, are all at their daily labour.Then again, I would remind you, that my looks are altered for the time. Iam as thin and shrunken in body as an eel-skin; my beard is two incheslong; and I further purpose to alter myself with a certain juice of aberry which I can buy for a sesterce; so have no fear, my kindbenefactor.'
Now, in safe keeping in the Subura, Cestus had an amount of money whichremained of the last instalment he had demanded of his patron, as we haverelated previously. A tolerable portion had been already squandered, butthe residue was enough to enable any Roman artisan, such as he representedhimself to be, to live comfortably for a year without labouring. But, notknowing to what exigencies the execution of his plans might bring him, heresolved to incur no suspicion by its immediate use. He, therefore,applied to his host, to provide him with a small loan to cover the cost ofa few clothes and the expenses of his journey.
'Your honour,' he said, 'has been so good already that I shame to ask morefrom you. To take in a poor wretch--to snatch him from death's door--tonurse him, feed him like a brother, and with small hope of return, is athing that the gods will bless you for and prosper you.'
'Say no more,' replied the other; 'here is what will help you.'
He placed in the Suburan's hand a sum equal to about five pounds sterling.
'Heaven reward your worship!' said Cestus, kissing the robe of hisgenerous friend. 'If I have health and strength I will repay you thisloan, as well as the cost you have been put to on my account; but, if Icould discharge the debt of gratitude as easily as the money, I would bethankful indeed.'
'Think no more of it,' rejoined the other.
It is not too much to say that Cestus was really touched and grateful forhis treatment. He even swore to himself that he would prove itpractically, at some future time, if possible.
The first thing that he did, on getting out of doors, was to obtain asupply of a certain kind of berry, yielding a juice which he diluted tobring to a requisite tinge. This he applied to his skin, and it, at once,gave him the appearance of a man bronzed by exposure to the weather,whilst his thinned drawn features easily suggested, at the same time, theeffects of fatigues and privations. Presenting himself suddenly before hishost, he was gratified to learn that the change was so great
as to mystifythat worthy man for a moment.
This excursion proved to Cestus how very far his limbs were from theirpristine state of sturdiness. His next expedition, with his embrownedface, was a ramble into the Subura. He took the most unfrequented streets,and, when he arrived at his destination, he avoided all chance of contactwith acquaintances. Sending for the individual whom he had constituted hisbanker, he remained closeted with that worthy in a retreat secure fromintrusion. This man was a tavern-keeper in the lowest part of the Subura.His business was large, and Cestus one of his prodigal customers. Not acoin of the money he amassed in the practice of his trade but had beenobtained by its spenders in the vocations of crime and vice. Learned asCestus was in the secret history of his native locality, his knowledge wassuperficial compared with this man's. Without actually engaging in anyunlawful pursuit himself he was the confidant of all others who did. Hewas receptive and silent as the grave. Without incriminating himself heaided his hideous customers, and they, in return, bestowed on him theirpatronage. His trustworthiness was his power, and Cestus had perfectconfidence in applying to him for the little help he required. Thepublican was truly surprised to see his friend, for all clue to hiswhereabouts had been completely lost. Cestus speedily made him acquaintedwith the history of his disappearance, and wound up with a tremendous oathfor revenge. The other tried to get at the relations of his friend withhis patron, the knight, but the Suburan only smiled and put his fingeralong his nose.
'Some day, brother,' he said, 'but not now.'
'Well, well, as you please--I care little.'
'All I want you to do now is to send and get to know, while I wait here,if my patron is in Rome and likely to be,' proceeded Cestus. 'I like toknow where I have him, for I am going to take a holiday with a kinsman inPuteoli until I get strong again. The sea air will bring me round, andthen I will return to pay attention to my worthy patron on the Esquiline.'
'Do you intend to knife him straight off?' inquired the publican.
'Humph! you are not very flattering,' returned Cestus; 'but haste, and letme have what I want to know, and along with it all the cash I left withyou. I shall want all I can scrape together.'
The publican departed, and, in an hour, was back with what Cestus wanted.The latter stowed away his treasure safely in the breast of his tunic, andlearned that his patron was in the island of Capreae, in the train of thePrefect.
'And when returns?' he demanded.
'That is more than any one can tell,' answered his banker.
'Capreae is where Caesar dwells?'
'It is, brave Cestus--hast ever been there?'
'No; but it can be seen at times, like a speck, from Puteoli. He can'tstay there for ever.'
'Who--Caesar?'
'No, you fool--Afer.'
'Ah!'
'Well, I can bide my time,' said Cestus, rising to go. 'No one was everworth much that could not. He may rest where he will until I am strong--andthen!'
The Suburan shook his fist, and, bidding farewell to his friend, took hisslow way homeward.
With this daily increase of exercise his body began to gather something ofits wonted firmness. His last excursion was down to the river bank, wherehe took passage in a regular trader to Puteoli. The vessel was to sail thefollowing day, and Cestus took his farewell of his host with manyexpressions of gratitude.
The voyage to Puteoli is not long, and in that most important centre ofcommerce Cestus remained two days. He stayed at a public inn, and, on theevening of the second day, he left the town after dark, and took his waytoward Neapolis.
'Good!' he muttered to himself, as he quitted the gates; 'if any curiouseyes have been watching me now they will be mystified. They may searchPuteoli from end to end, and they will as soon find my kinspeople asmyself;' the said kinsfolk being, in fact, a mere fabrication as far asPuteoli was concerned.
He did not think it prudent to strain his budding strength by traversingthe whole distance to Neapolis on that night, so he put up at the firsttavern he met with, at a convenient distance from Puteoli. The nextmorning he was astir early and entered Neapolis. Here he loitered for aday, and then proceeded on a leisurely walking tour of the bay. He ambledalong through the towns and past the villas which lined that matchlessshore, drinking in the pure air, and enjoying the scenery as far as he wascapable of doing. He had a well-filled purse, and he took his ease at hisinn, where he fed and drank of the best. He did not overtask his strength,and every day increased it, for, indeed, he could not have hit upon abetter plan for that end.
In this way he proceeded through Herculaneum, Pompeii, Stabiae, the mostconsiderable towns on his route, till at length, on one afternoon, he satto rest himself upon the worn basin of the self-same ancient fountain, ofwhich we have already spoken, on the verge of the town of Surrentum.
'Houf!' he sighed, as he seated himself; 'and here is the place at last!And now to find my potter!' He sank into a reverie, and then lifted hishead and looked around him. 'The place looks the same as far as I canremember--it must be fourteen years since I was here. Fourteen years! Howin the name of the furies do I know what has happened since then! Tibia,my sister, may be dead and dust by this time--her husband too, and--and thewhole lot, and then what better shall I be? It is strange I never seemedto think seriously of this till now, at the very gates of the place--whatif they are gone, flitted to no one knows where--Greece, Egypt, Africa,Gaul,--why, then I shall have only the small satisfaction of treating mypatron to a taste of his own play--humph! No matter, I shall soon know.'
He arose from his seat and walked a few paces onward, when he called to alad who was nigh.
'Boy, do you know a potter hereabouts, by name Masthlion--if he be dead oralive? or----'
The boy simply turned and pointed to the end of a narrow lane whichdebouched close to. Cestus, thereupon, looked more inquiringly about him,as if striving to recall some remembrance of the spot.
'I seem to have a sort of recollection of this place--up there is it?' Thelad nodded.
'Alive?'
The taciturn youth nodded once more, and Cestus walked on with his mindconsiderably relieved. Once in the little street his memory served himbetter. 'Just the same,' he said, striding into the shop. No one beingthere he proceeded into the house, where he was equally unsuccessful indiscovering any sign of life. He then tried the workshop, and, at last,stood in the presence of those within, as we have described.
Neæra: A Tale of Ancient Rome Page 18
