CHAPTER IX.
The fitful movements on the floor of the room overhead ceased in thecourse of a few minutes, and Masthlion knew that his wife was in bed.During the last hour his nervous agitation had increased, and had beenhard to hide; he now, therefore, hastened to put an end to this painfulstate of suspense.
'Are you too weary to talk now, Cestus; or will you that we should wait?'he said to his companion.
'I'd as lieve have a chat with thee now; in fact, I feel in the humour. Iam in rare spirits at finding everybody well and happy,' replied Cestusgaily. 'Bring out the drink, kinsman, and shut the door; what better couldone wish when we are alone together?'
Masthlion quickly made the required dispositions and sat opposite hisbrother-in-law before the bright fire alluded to. He stretched his arm outat length upon the table, with his fingers nervously moving and tappingthereon, whilst he watched the Suburan pour out some wine into two cups.Cestus's keen perceptions had already observed the signs of his kinsman'sinquietude of mind, and he, therefore, became just as deliberate andphlegmatic in his movements, following a natural bent in his humour,which, with equal satisfaction, would have watched the torture of aSisyphus, or the wriggling of a maimed and terrified insect. The blaze ofthe logs threw their countenances into relief--the newly-grown shaggy beardof the Roman, and his swarthy stained skin, together with his bluntfeatures, contrasted with the high, domelike, intellectual forehead,overhanging the deep-set, bright eyes of the potter, so anxiously,thirstily bent on the calm, lazy motions of his companion. No other lightbeing present, their distorted shadows flickered and moved athwart theopposite wall in varied and grotesque forms.
'Kinsman, you are anxious,' observed Cestus, as he slowly dribbled thewine into his cup until the liquid bubbled on the very brim.
'I own it,' replied Masthlion.
The Suburan raised the brimming cup carefully to his mouth and took a deepdraught, whilst the potter hastily took a sip which barely wet his lips.
'Yes,' continued Cestus, 'you are anxious because you have a very strongnotion that the time has come when that rare girl, who is warming herpretty limbs in bed upstairs, is beginning to trim her feathers to flyfrom the old bird's nest.'
'I cannot deny it,' replied Masthlion briefly.
'Why, it is the way of the world. You could never hope for such as she toescape matrimony and go on, as a maiden, all her days?'
'It would not be likely; she is as good a child as she is fair. The pointis already settled.'
'Well then, if she is fated to leave you with her husband, why should ittrouble you the more to see me drop in? Did you think I was coming tocarry her off? It would amount to the same thing if I did.'
'You are trifling, Cestus,' said the potter somewhat sternly. 'It is asore trial to be bereft of an only child at any time, but that does notnow constitute the whole matter. While she was a child all was well, butwhen she found a lover it behoved me to think that she and I were not allconcerned in the matter. Had she been my own flesh and blood she could nothave been more to me. Yet she is only a charge; and, although I thoughtyou dead, I made the attempt to find you. When that attempt was vain, andyou appeared so strangely and opportunely, I was agitated. I am anxiousnow, but in a different way--my load of responsibility has left me. Thechild is the dearest thing on earth to me, and what touches her touches meto the inmost fibre of my heart.'
'And with a perfect right, Masthlion. You have reared her and tended her,and she is yours more than anybody else's,' replied Cestus, noddingapprovingly; 'up to a few weeks ago I knew not whether she lived ornot--whether you lived or not. You had her as your own, and you might havedisposed of her according to your own ideas, but for circumstances, which,unexpectedly, occurring a few weeks ago, as I say, revived in me thegreatest interest in the girl. I want no account of your stewardship,kinsman, for I cannot claim it--it is not needed; the girl bears it in herlooks. I can neither claim any duty or affection--I want no sentiment--myconcern is of a different nature. Nevertheless it is of sufficientimportance to me to ask you to go into particulars about this gallant whohas found the way to her heart.'
Cestus imbibed another good draught of wine, and after refilling his cupin readiness for the next, he settled himself to listen to the potter'saccount of Neaera's lover. When he had heard everything that Masthlioncould tell him he ejaculated 'Ha!' and relapsed into deep thought as hegazed into the fire.
'Well! what is your opinion?' inquired Masthlion.
'Opinion!' echoed Cestus, 'my opinion is that they have already settledthe matter beyond your interference, or mine. If they have taken such astrong fancy for each other that is enough for sensible people.'
'But the youth--the Pretorian--do you approve of him?' said Masthlionimpatiently.
'That is a question more of sentiment,' replied Cestus, 'and, as the girlbelongs more to yourself than to me, I will leave it with you--if you aresatisfied I am.'
'One thing troubles me,' said the potter, knitting his brows and passinghis hand across his forehead, 'I could wish he had been more on a levelwith her station--she has been humbly bred in this house--do you not think,Cestus, there is great fear of his fancy cooling as time goes on? He willfor ever be contrasting her simple, plain ways with those proud dames ofthe city, and he will repent. Ah, Cestus, I fear he will!'
'Humph!' said the Suburan, shrugging his shoulders, whilst a grin brokeforth on his face, 'she must run the chance of that accident. Perhapsthere may not turn out to be such a difference between them after all. Tomy eyes she seems as good as he is, and practice will alter her. You havea fancy that your daughter may some day tire of her elevation and returnto her old ways under the same old roof.'
'Heaven forbid! I trust she may be happy with husband and children.'
'Just so. _I_ have no objection whatever,' observed Cestus calmly, 'butthere remains _one_ who might, and, until that opinion is obtained, mytall young Pretorian must practise patience and restrain himself, eventhough he burst.'
'How! What do you mean?' cried Masthlion. 'Another--you never told me.'
'No, I did not; it was not necessary or wise at the time, which I think issome fourteen or fifteen years ago.'
Masthlion nodded, and his face betrayed the most intense eagerness. Cestuscontinued coolly, 'I brought that child to you as a yellow-haired brat,and told you she was an orphan of a poor workman, an old friend of mine.The story was a lie and I deceived you.'
The blood crimsoned the potter's face, and he drew up his form.Indignation glowed in his eyes, but curbing himself, he said with loftyreproach, 'A lie, Cestus--that was well indeed.'
'Nay, don't fluster yourself, kinsman,' continued the Suburan, with theutmost _sang froid_, 'it was as good a tale to tell you at the time asany. It did you no harm, for you knew no better; nor did I dream that thenecessity would ever come that you should. You were without a brat, so Ithought you would be glad of this one. I handed it over to you as a strayhelpless fledgeling belonging to nobody, and your mind has consequentlynever been uneasy.'
'Well, and the truth?'
'Did your mind never suspect as you looked upon the girl shooting up? Didyou never wonder and say to yourself, what kind of poor swinkers were theyfrom whom sprang such a brave slip? Why, it is the first thought whichwould have struck me, had I never known anything about her--a tall clean-made lass, like one of their goddesses in their temples. I have watchedher, kinsman, these few hours--she has ripened just to what might have beenexpected. I have seen the turn and flash of her eyes, the working of herthoughts written plainly on her face--her whole bearing. Did they everspring out of the den of work-a-day folks? No, her breed will show itself.Common homespun and ignorance cannot hide it from those that know it--butwhat can you know, Masthlion, of these proud aristocrats?'
'Aristocrats!' exclaimed the potter, springing from his seat. 'This isanother deception--another of your tales!'
'That you will discover before very long, I hope,' replied Cestus drily.
'And her people yet live, say you?'
'One at least--that will be quite sufficient.'
Masthlion dropped back into his seat with a suppressed groan. 'Then ifthis be true I have indeed lost her!' he said, and he buried his face inhis hands.
''Tis nought to grieve over,' remarked Cestus, shrugging his shoulders incontempt at his companion's want of shrewdness; 'on the contrary, youshould be in a dancing mood with joy. You have reared up the youngster toas fine a filly as one could wish to see, and you may well expect to haveyour strong chest well lined--better than ever it was before.'
'Tell me not of money--who thinks of money!' cried Masthlion. 'All the goldin the proud city of Rome itself would never comfort me one jot for thetaking away of the child. Why did you ever bring her to me, Cestus, andthen I had been spared this?--but then, if you had not, I had missed thehappiness of the child's presence these fourteen years.'
'Exactly,' replied Cestus, seconding that with alacrity, 'and then,kinsman, as we have already agreed that you must lose her whichever way itgoes, it is, therefore, best to be rid of her on the best terms. Strikethe balance and you have a great deal to thank me for. Cheer up, man;things are seldom so black as they are painted at first. You will not beleft out altogether in the cold, maybe.'
'The Centurion and she have already pressed me to follow them to Rome,'said Masthlion dejectedly.
'Good! it is the only place fit for a sensible man to dwell in. You may beas secret as you wish, or as public as you think proper to make yourself.'
'I should be nearer to her of a truth,' muttered the potter to himself,'and could get a glimpse of her from time to time.'
'True again,' cried Cestus, overhearing; 'that is to be done quietly atany corner of a street; but it would be well to avoid possibledisappointment and not build upon any nearer familiarity--knights andpotters don't match very well.'
'I know it, Cestus, I know it! But yet it would be strange if she couldforget,' murmured Masthlion.
Cestus took another pull at his wine, and looking across at hiscompanion's troubled face, said briskly, 'Come, Masthlion, this is onlyspeculation; let us get to the facts! Have you anything belonging to thegirl which might serve as a token of her early years?'
Masthlion rose up without a word and left the room.
'That looks well,' muttered Cestus to himself, and he was once moreaddressing his attentions to the wine jar when he stopped himself. 'No!no! be careful, Cestus,' he said; 'you are only an invalid yet, and onlyneed what will do you good. You must get strong again as fast aspossible.'
Masthlion re-entered bearing a small bundle neatly and tightly bound. Heuntied and unrolled the package on the table.
'There, Cestus!' he said,--'there are the self-same things which she hadabout her when you left her here. They have been carefully kept.'
The small eyes of the Suburan flashed with joy as they rested on thecontents. He lifted them up one by one and examined them. They consisted,as the potter said, of the tiny garments of a child two or three yearsold; and, in addition, there was a small bag of soft leather, not largerthan the girth of a small-sized walnut, to which was attached a fine steelchain to encircle the neck. Pouncing on the bag Cestus extracted a carvedamulet of polished stone. His face fairly beamed with delight as he gazed.'Good!' he said, as he replaced the stone, and put the bag carefully awayin his breast, 'this is of the highest importance; taken together withyourself and Tibia they are enough for what I want. And now to let youinto the secret. In the first place, Masthlion, that rare piece ofwomankind who is dreaming of her lover upstairs, owes her life directly tome, the rough bear, whose face she declined to profane her pretty lipswith.'
'Her life!' exclaimed the potter.
'Nothing less, kinsman,' continued Cestus. 'The same Balbus whom you knewas my master, was a man of great estates and wealth. I acted as a kind ofbailiff for him in Rome, and feathered my nest very fairly indeed. Therewas a kinsman of this Balbus, a young man, and not very well off asregards worldly goods. In the course of events this person and myself hadgrown to be very intimate and confidential over various little matters inwhich I had served him on the sly. He was well born, well spoken, and welldressed--a gentleman born and bred; but, at heart, as great a scamp as anyfootpad and cut-throat that haunts the roadside. Being only verymoderately supplied with money, in his own right, his mind very naturallydwelt upon the enormous amount which flowed annually into the coffers ofhis kinsman, old Balbus, my master. It is a weakness of human nature,Masthlion, for a poor man to speculate concerning a rich kinsman. But thisyoungster had a subtle brain beyond his years, and was not content tospeculate. To wait on chance, in his case, was, in all probability, towait and be no better; for, had he even been the next heir, his kinsman,Balbus, although got into years, was hale and hearty, and as tough asleather. That was bad enough; but what made it worse for his hopes, he wasnot the direct heir. There was one life between him and what he schemedfor. That one was all the more closely and tenderly watched because it wasall that my old master Balbus had left him. Of all his family nothingremained to him but this one life--a daughter's daughter; the mother, thelast of his children, had died in giving it birth, and he was left, likean old oak, with this young slip budding beside him. That young slip, as Isit here before you, Masthlion, is the girl who calls you father.'
The potter sat still. His gaze was concentrated with painful intensity onthe speaker. His fingers clenched the table like a vice, and his breastheaved and fell in a tumult of emotion.
'You can easily supply the rest,' continued Cestus.
Masthlion nodded without speaking, and his head fell on his breast. Hisheart swelled to bursting. He dare not trust himself to open his mouth toutter a sound. If this was true, and he felt it was, the figure of hisNeaera's grandparent rose in his mind's eye--a haughty, stern, andaristocratical old man, extending a proffered reward and polite thankswith a lofty condescension which could not be mistaken for anything but afinal dismissal; and there, beside him, the child herself, in her richrobes, seeming too full of delight at the novelty and pleasure of her newposition to think very seriously of her separation from the old. Hepictured himself refusing the proffered gold, and turning away to go backto his desolate and darkened hearth, far away and forgotten for ever.
His fancy was warm, and his sensibilities as keen as a sensitive woman's.The probability of such a scene as this, which leaped so swiftly andvividly across his brain, was almost too much for his nature to bear. Histhroat pained him, and the water seemed to burn its way into his eyes; sohe sank his head gradually lower until his brow rested on the table.
'Well, the rest comes naturally enough after what I have said,' continuedCestus, seemingly taking no heed of his companion. 'The young man I speakof could act the hypocrite to a nicety. He was clever-tongued, sociable,and took great pains to make himself agreeable to his kinsman, old Balbus,who was, in many things, as simple as a child, so that they were alwaysvery great friends and companions, which was a great help to the planwhich had to be carried out. It was very simple, and the first step was,as I need hardly tell you, the making away of the child which stood in hispath. I know I cannot set myself up as a model of a man, but what followswill show that my heart was considerably softer in the grain than thisyoung serpent's, which, if it exists at all--which I doubt--is like granite.It was bad enough to rob the old man of the only brat remaining, for hewas so wrapped up in it--used to sport with it and tend it like a woman,and was scarcely able to allow it out of his sight. You remember the childthen, potter--a yellow-haired big-eyed youngster, and enough to make a foolof any man who cared for such toys. Well, kinsman, I take no credit tomyself for the part I acted. No doubt it was rascally enough, but I haveno doubt in my mind whatever, that what I did, although unconsciously, wasthe means of saving the girl's life and position. Had I refused thetemptation of his bribe, some other tool would have taken my place, andwould have carried out his instructions to the letter, which were tostrangle the youngster, drow
n it, cut its throat, smother it, or anythingto silence it for ever.'
'The monster!' exclaimed Masthlion, raising his head and shuddering withhorror; 'and but a youth too?'
'Only a youth,' replied Cestus, 'but with a serpent's head. As I said, wehad grown to be very confidential on account of some commissions I hadquietly done for him, and he gradually began to sound me with a view togetting my help in his operations. He found me willing, and we soon cameto terms. I was to kill the child, and he was to give me a very handsomesum. Where he raised it I don't know, but that did not matter. It requiredno small amount of patience and skill to get the child away withoutnotice, and weeks passed ere I was able to do it to my satisfaction. Therewas no use in doing the thing desperately so as to leave the leastsuspicion. A favourable time came at last, and I managed to take the childaway without attracting the least attention; but I could never make up mymind to kill it, so I left it in secret and safe hands for a few weeks,and then begged leave of absence to make a visit. That visit was to you,and it was to bring the child here, where I never thought to see or hearof her again. I told a tale to my young master--how I drowned the child outof sight in a marsh, and he was satisfied; and remains so, as far as sheis concerned, to this day. So far all was well. There was not theslightest suspicion attaching to us. Balbus went nearly out of his mind,and money, without end, was spent in searching after the lost brat. Myyoung master was foremost in the hunt, of course, and I have heard the oldman bless him many a time. Not a little of the wasted money went, as Iknow, into his purse at last; for it grew to be a common practice forcunning rogues to say they had found the whereabouts of the child, andthen demand a price. It was freely given, and of course ended in nothingbut disappointment. After some time my young master got this businesstransferred entirely into his own hands, and all such discoveries wereleft to him to deal with. I have reason to believe he invented a good manyof them himself, and always took the best part of the money into his ownfingers. And so he waited until the old man should die; and has waiteduntil now, because he has not the pluck to finish the business promptly,and get the old man out of the way as well as the child. Had he had asmuch courage as cunning, he might have been rolling in the wealth ofBalbus these ten years; but he cannot screw up his pluck, so he dallieson, and hopes for old Saturn and his scythe to help him--the fool! Hisprudent farming of the funds spent in searching for the lost one hasconsiderably improved his stock of money; but the matter of late years hasalmost died out. Balbus went to dwell on his country estates, and took mewith him. About six months ago I received a letter from my young master,begging me to repair to Rome to see him. I readily got leave and went tohis house. He gave me a commission to execute, which he professed to bevery secret. Whilst on my way one night late, in a lonely part of thecity, whither I had gone on his account, I was beset by a gang ofruffians, and left for dead. There was life, however, left in me when theyhad done, and, as luck would have it, I was picked up and taken charge of.I since have discovered that the whole was only a cunning plot to removeme and my knowledge out of the world. I have been all this timerecovering, and here I am. Balbus is a saddened old man, but hale. Myyoung master walks about, relieved in the thought that he has cleverly gotrid of me, who knew enough to utterly confound him. He shall bedisagreeably surprised. You, kinsman, will befriend me, as well as mysister Tibia. These few traps will confirm the matter. The girl will gether own again, and I shall be revenged on a paltry, white-livered knave asever stepped the earth.'
Cestus ceased, and a long pause ensued.
'Is all this truth, kinsman?' said Masthlion at length.
'That you shall presently know beyond all doubt,' replied the Suburan.
'It seems all so strange to think that my Neaera should prove to be noblyborn.'
'The grandchild of a senator, no less!'
'Ah me!' sighed the potter dejectedly; 'then are we parted indeed.'
'That question of difference, between the Centurion and her, will troubleyou no longer, kinsman,' said Cestus.
'Nothing will trouble me now concerning her, except that I shall never seeher more; she has passed beyond my care, alas!' said Masthlion, with deepemotion.
'Take a draught of wine, kinsman,' observed Cestus; 'it is a wonderfulbalm for scratched feelings.'
Masthlion, with a sad smile, filled up his cup--'I drink to the child'shappy restoration and her future welfare;' and he added, after a pause,'May she be tended as lovingly and tenderly as she has been under thishumble roof.'
'I will drink to that with pleasure,' cried the other; 'restored she shallbe, without doubt, but, for the rest, I cannot say.'
They both drank and set down their cups, and Cestus remarked that it wastime he was in bed.
'Enough for to-night; it has given you something to ponder over, and wecan have some more to say presently. But, until the time is ripe to act,potter, you must keep all this secret. Not a word to the child, or to yourwife, until fit time.'
'I will not,' answered Masthlion.
'Swear it, kinsman, for we may have to wait long yet.'
'I never broke my word,' said Masthlion proudly.
'Enough; then I will trust to you,' said Cestus. 'Roll up those traps andkeep them safe; and, on your life, breathe not a word to a living soul.Good-night!'
Cestus departed to his pallet bed upstairs, but Masthlion remained sittingbefore the fire for a long time in deep reflection. The small hoursarrived, and his wife awoke to find her husband still missing from herside. She stole downstairs to find him musing and sighing, deeply andheavily, from time to time. The fire had smouldered down to a few redembers, and the room was chilly; but the heartsore man did not know. Hiswondering wife's hand on his shoulder roused him, and he followed quietlyto bed, but not to sleep. Tibia saw instinctively that something waswrong, and she, just as swiftly, ascribed that something to her brother;but, failing to gain anything satisfactory by her inquiries, she wiselyallowed the matter to slumber the while.
Neæra: A Tale of Ancient Rome Page 20
