Neæra: A Tale of Ancient Rome

by Joel Chandler Harris

  CHAPTER I.

  Though Quintus Fabricius had long since withdrawn from public life, andspent his days mainly in the library of his mansion, he was not altogetherso secluded in his habits, as to entirely forego the society of two orthree ancient friends and colleagues of the busy days of politics gone by.From supper at the house of one of these, he returned one evening at anearly old-fashioned hour, and upon entering his own hall, was met byNatta, his ancient steward, who informed him, that a man who had travelledfor days to see him, was now awaiting him on some pressing business.Fabricius, thinking, perhaps, it was some affair connected with somedistant estate, desired the visitor to be brought, and, entering hisfavourite library, sat down before the fire, being still deep in thethoughts of a literary discussion which had raged over the supper-table.In a few moments Natta ushered in Cestus. He looked pale and worn; hisbrows wore an anxious wrinkle, and his glance was uneasy and restless. Itwas now the fourth evening following that on which Martialis had quittedhim in the despoiled dwelling of Masthlion. The wind blowing fair, andpromising a speedy voyage, he had embarked on a trader bound for Ostia,but contrary to expectation the passage proved long and tedious, owing tothe wind falling light and baffling. On reaching port, with a mindoverwrought with impatience, he posted along without stop, until hereached the mansion on the Janiculum. It was not without an amount ofdistrust he appeared before the old ex-senator. It was no pricking ofconscience for the wrong he had done him, but purely fear, lest he mightbe recognised in connection with the part he had played in that self-sameroom, at no great distance of time back, when he had acted the part of amurderous decoy. He trusted, however, to his changed appearance, which hehad ever maintained, and, at the worst, was confident that he had thepower to make almost his own terms.

  He met the scrutiny of Fabricius, therefore, with his accustomed boldness,and when, after a lengthened survey, the old man motioned him forward andasked his business, he felt relieved with the assurance that he was notrecognised.

  'I have come a long way from the south--I have been travelling for days tosee you,' said he; 'that means important business, noble Fabricius, and Imust ask you to hear it alone with me.'

  But Natta was deaf to the hint and moved not from his post behind; nor didhis master give him any sign to do so.

  'My steward has my confidence in everything--go on!' said Fabricius.

  'You will pardon me, but before a third person I cannot speak; nor wouldyou suffer another to be present if you knew what I had to say.'

  'Then leave it unsaid!' replied the old man testily.

  Cestus drew near him and said in a low tone,

  'Did you not receive a letter, not long ago, containing a piece ofribbon?'

  Fabricius started and fixed an intent look on the Suburan. His breastheaved with a sudden emotion.

  'Well, what of it?' he said.

  'You did receive it, then?' said Cestus.

  Fabricius nodded hastily.

  'Then I am the bearer of a further message from him who wrote that letterand sent that ribbon--and see, here is my warrant!'

  Cestus drew from his breast the remaining portion of the faded ribbon fromwhich he had cut the former piece enclosed to Fabricius. When the eyes ofthe latter fell on it, his frame trembled with an agitation he could nothide. He motioned Natta to depart, and when the door was closed, heunlocked a cabinet, and took therefrom the tablets he had received, withthe ribbon in question. His eye had told him, at a glance, that the twoportions were of the self-same fabric; but, partly to hide his feelings,and because he felt he could scarcely trust his voice, he nervously wenton fitting the severed ends together.

  'You see that all is right--that one piece has been cut from the other,'said Cestus at length.

  'Who are you, and what do you know of this?' asked Fabricius, in a voicewhich palpably trembled. 'Something in your face or tone seems familiar tome.'

  'I cannot say whether I resemble any one you know, noble sir,' replied theSuburan, with _sang froid_; 'but, touching the ribbon, it was sent becauseit is of an uncommon pattern; for which reason it was also thought youmight remember and recognise it, as having been worn by the child, yourgranddaughter, long ago.'

  'I could not remember it; but when it came, like a message from the dead,I searched among the little garments and clothing in the child's room,which remains undisturbed as when she left it, and there I found some moreof the same pattern. How came you by it? Tell me quickly what you know;and yet most likely it is nothing but another befooling--another deceptionof a foolish, fond, old man!'

  'I know well enough you have been fooled many times, but I know just aswell, that you never had a proof like this--something to see andtouch--something that fits into its proper place, in this affair, withoutany denial. This is different to the tales and tricks which have beenspecially made to draw money from your coffers. The girl is alive andwell, and I have other proofs, better than this, to show and tell you.'

  'Man--man! if money be your object, you are labouring in vain,' saidFabricius, feebly endeavouring to appear firm and resolute; 'I have spentmy last coin in the folly, and now when extreme age is beginning to layits hold on me, I have at last learnt my lesson from experience. In nogreat time now I shall be with my fathers--there will be an end of mysorrows--for that I can now wait. If you are bent on extortion andfalsehood your opportunity is gone. Nay more, I will put an end to suchdeception, and claim the help of justice--so take care!'

  'It is a pity you never did so before,' said Cestus. 'Had you done so, youmight possibly have learnt something which would have saved you no end ofbother, disappointment, and money. However, all that you shall learnpresently. I have something to ask of you, it is true; but I ask it oncondition that you fulfil your promise, only, when you are fully satisfiedand claim your grandchild. You see how certain I must be when I can offersuch terms.'

  'What is it you ask?'

  'That you give me your solemn promise, to allow me to go unharmed by youor any one else, and that, in consideration of my services, you willreward me with what you consider a fair return--the amount I leave to yourown liberality.'

  'Why do you wish me to guarantee to keep you safe and unharmed? Whatnecessity for this, when your action would be kind and merciful in thehighest degree?'

  'Because, when you hear the history of the whole affair, it is possible mypart in it may not please you,' said the Suburan coolly.

  'If you have wronged her or me you shall be punished, and everything shallbe wrung from you, as you deserve, without guarantee or reward.'

  'Then, in that case, I will go no further; and you shall never see or hearof your missing grandchild again, simply for the reason, that I, alone,know who and where she is, and I, alone, hold the proofs of the same. Idesire to serve myself as well as you; but, at the same time, I will notthrust myself into danger on that account. Without your promise in writingI will say nothing, except this, that she was safe and well until fourdays ago, when something occurred which has put her in some danger--youmust understand she has grown up tall and comely. I have, therefore, comeat much cost and fatigue, in mercy to you and her. Her situation atpresent is not to be envied, and the sooner we come to terms and see toher welfare the better.'

  'I must know more than this--this is only a tale like others I have heard,save, that it is, perhaps, more ingenious and plausible,' said Fabricius,in a great tremor. 'Give me more proofs--show me that I may place faith inyou, and you will find that I shall not be behindhand with you in anythingthat is fair and reasonable.'

  Cestus knit his brows and mused a little.

  'I thought it would have been enough for any man to see I was noimpostor,' he said at length, pointing at the ribbons; 'the child worethose when she was taken away from here--is it not enough?'

  'No!' answered Fabricius.

  'To give me such a paper will not in any way commit you, Fabricius; for,in it, you will not undertake to fulfil your promise, till you aresatisfied that I have done
my part in the business.'

  'I will do nothing without further assurance that I am not trifledwith--let that end it!'

  'Very well, then, in consideration for the young girl, for whom I have aregard, I will give way a point from what I had determined, in order thatshe may not be sacrificed--otherwise your stubbornness would ruin all. If Iwere to bring you the clothes she wore when you lost her, even to anamulet, would you then give me the writing?'

  'Yes, if they satisfied me as being hers.'

  'Would you know them?'

  'I would know the amulet.'

  'Good--then I will bring them!'

  'Have you not them with you?'

  'No; but they are not far away,' said Cestus, with a cunning grin. 'I amnot in the habit of surrendering myself so completely; but now, with theassurance of your promise, I will do what I had no intention of doing. Youmay send your slaves along with me if you wish.'

  'Go alone. If you do not return I shall know that one more attempt on mycredulity has failed.'

  'A few minutes will set your doubts at rest,' replied Cestus, and he leftthe room.

  As soon as he was gone, the patrician poured out some wine, with atrembling hand, and drank it to brace his aged frame against the nervoustremor which possessed it. His agitation would not allow him to rest, sohe wandered up and down the apartment. Once or twice he listened at thedoor which stood ajar, and, whilst doing so, heard the sound of returningsteps. It was his visitor returning with Natta at his side. Both enteredas before, but the suspicious steward again received the sign to withdraw.Cestus advanced to the table, beside which Fabricius has reseated himself,and laid thereon a bundle, carefully wrapped up and tied.

  'These are the traps,' he said, and proceeded to open the parcel. Takingout the tiny garments of a child he displayed them on the table.

  The old man, with a strange inarticulate cry, seized them in his hands,and examined them with a devouring eagerness.

  'See!' said Cestus, laying his broad finger-tip against an embroideredmark on one of the little linen underclothes, 'here is a mark ofownership, I take it.'

  'Yes, yes! But the amulet!' cried Fabricius feverishly.

  'Here 'tis,' replied the Suburan, drawing from his bosom a little softleather bag, having a fine steel chain attached.

  His companion pounced on it, and plucked out a small agate, carved intothe shape of an open hand, bearing a curious symbol cut into the palm.

  He gazed on it for a few moments, with his wrinkled face twitching. Thenhe pressed it convulsively to his lips, and, sinking his head, buried hisface in the child's garments on the table, huddling them up against hissilvery hairs with both arms.

  Cestus, anxious and impatient as he was, forbore to break the silence.

  At length Fabricius raised his head and spoke in a broken voice, 'I am anold man and you must excuse my weakness, friend--the sight of these triflestries me hard.'

  'Drink!' said Cestus, filling a cup; 'there is nothing like good wine tocheer one. Forget what has passed and think on the good time that iscoming to wipe it out.'

  'Thanks!' answered Fabricius, taking the cup with an unsteady hand. 'Fillyourself also a draught,' which invitation Cestus obeyed, nothing loth.

  'Here's to the speedy restoration of your little maid,' he said, andbottomed the cup. 'Now, as you are satisfied that these trifles are reallygenuine, and that I am not deceiving you, I must ask you to write me thatlittle document; after which, you shall know the whole story, which willcontain certain items which will astonish you without doubt.'

  Fabricius reached his writing materials and wrote, slowly and painfully, abrief undertaking, by which the personal safety of Cestus would beassured, and his efforts suitably rewarded, upon the satisfactoryrestoration of his grandchild.

  Cestus perused the document, and, finding it satisfactory, put it awaycarefully in his breast.

  'Thanks! thanks! I value, and rely upon your word equally; but then I mayfall into other hands, in which case this paper might be useful. I willcommence and tell you from the beginning, and you may brace yourself up tohear something which will startle you.'

  He poured out and drank some more wine, and then began his declaration.

  'Your little maid was stolen from your own porch, here on the Janiculum,fifteen years ago, all but three months and three days--if you have the daymarked, consult it, and you will find I am right.'

  Giving a start of surprise, Fabricius began to count with the fingers ofone hand on the table, to assist a mental calculation.

  'You are right, without doubt,' he said finally; 'how come you to knowthis?'

  'None so well as I,' returned the other, 'you shall learn.'

  He then related the manner in which the child had been enticed and snappedaway from the porch of the house, the various places she had been hiddenaway, until her final removal to Surrentum. The extreme minuteness of thenarrative was too extraordinary not to impress his listener's mind with aninward conviction of its truth, but, as our reader is already acquaintedwith its tenor, it need not be recapitulated here.

  'Yes, noble Fabricius, Surrentum is full of potters,' said Cestus,concluding, 'and with one of them, called Masthlion, and his wife Tibia,was finally lodged your little maid; and, with them, a childless pair, shehas grown up well cared for and tended, as I know well. She thinks herselftheir child to this hour, and it is time you took her to your own nest.Her poor feathers cannot hide her breed. She is known by the name ofNeaera.'

  Fabricius sat looking at the Suburan with the torture of his mindimprinted on his pale face. 'Why do the gods permit such cruel deeds?'said he; 'for what reason was this wickedness perpetrated?'

  'Money,' said Cestus.

  'Money!' echoed Fabricius, leaping to his feet in horror; 'was she sold,then, for a slave?'

  'Not at all,' replied the Suburan quietly; 'cannot you understand? Moneyhas been at the bottom of it all. You have an enormous amount of it, andthe child was in some one's way. Once out of it, and then who comes next?Why your loving nephew, Afer--now do you see?'

  'Fellow, what do you mean? Do you dare to cast even so much as a doubtupon the honesty of a knight--a relative of mine?--take care!'

  'More than that, your honour, I say it was no other, and through no other,than your nephew, T. Domitius Afer, that your child was kidnapped.'

  'Fellow!'

  'It is true enough. He wanted her out of the way so that he might be yourheir. For that end he hired a certain individual, now alive, for acomfortable sum to put her aside, so that she might never more be heardof.'

  'I'll not believe it,' cried the old patrician hoarsely; 'it must beproved--where is that wretch whom you say he hired?'

  'What would you do with him supposing I brought him?'

  'Were I forty years younger I would tear him limb from limb with my ownhands--but now nothing remains to me but the justice of the law.'

  'Neither the one nor the other, although he is within your reach at thismoment, for I am the man who was employed by your sweet nephew--I am theman who took away your child!'

  Fabricius stood dumfounded for a moment, and his jaw fell.

  Then the blood rushed to his face; his eyes flamed with terrible wrath,and, with a stride, he confronted Cestus.

  'Dog!' he shouted hoarsely, as he clutched the Suburan with a grasp whichwas inspired with the vigour of youth.

  But Cestus, in no way disconcerted, calmly pulled out the writtenguarantee from his bosom and held it up. The old man eyed it,hesitatingly, for a brief moment; then dropped his hands and tottered backto his chair, wherein he sank with a groan.

  'You have just cause for anger, and I admit it,' said Cestus, in a lowerand more respectful tone; 'but you cannot now move without me, and I willdo all I can to make amends. After all I am not so much to blame as yournephew. At that time I was an idle vagabond--you see I don't attempt tohide myself--dwelling in the Subura, and your loving nephew, Titus Afer,tempted me with a handsome sum to do this thing. Only, mark you--I was toput the
child clean out of the way--that is to say, I was to strangle her,drown her, kill her in the best and quietest way possible.'--Fabricius hidhis face in his hands.--'That was what I was paid to do, and, if I had donethat, the job would have served his turn most effectually, as he intended,and you would never have been the wiser, perhaps. But bad as I was, therewas left yet a soft spot in my heart, and to that is owing the life of thelittle maid. I couldn't bring myself to hurt her; and, moreover, what didI know but what she might be useful to me in the future. It turns out nowthat I was wise. A dead child is of no use to any one, but a living oneis--vastly so at the present time. You will, therefore, see that I had todeceive your worshipful nephew. He thinks she is dead, as I told him shewas, and all his pretended help in searching for her was nothing but ablind. Your money went, most of it, into his own pocket--and a comfortableincome it was.'

  Fabricius was overwhelmed. He rose unsteadily to his feet, and his facewas ashen pale. Such terrible deception was scarcely credible to histrustful nature, and yet the evidence seemed too weighty to be easilyexplained away. Its great perfectness of detail, the unhesitatingbusiness-like manner of its delivery--above all, the clothes andamulet--were beyond doubt. Yet he eyed the man before him with unconcealeddistrust, contempt, and indignation, to which, however, the Suburan wasutterly indifferent.

  'Tell me what reasons have impelled you to come to me now and confess allthis villainy,' said Fabricius, in hollow tones.

  'Because I am sorry for what I did, and wish to make some amends,' repliedCestus.

  'And for this penitence you require to be paid,' rejoined the other, withwithering scorn; 'by your own showing you have made terms for committing adesperate sin, and have probably extorted every sesterce possible in thatdirection; now you betray your accomplice, and come to extort more fromme, under a mask of righteousness.'

  'I have told you nothing but the truth, and you may twist it as you like,'replied Cestus, unmoved; 'bear in mind, but for me, there would have beenno child at all to welcome back.'

  'I have only your word for that, so far.'

  'The terms made are not to be carried out, on your side, until you aresatisfied with your bargain. That is enough to show, of itself, that I amin earnest. I must live, and to your own generosity I leave the payment.But it is not altogether that for which I am here. Your nephew, theworshipful knight, has dealt very scurvily with me, after his nature. Heis a hundred times more rascal than myself--a mean, cowardly dog, knight ashe is. I have two surprises in store for him--one, when he is confrontedwith the girl he paid me to kill, and the other, when his eyes fall on me,whom he struck down one night, not long since, in the streets, and leftfor dead. He thought, when he did that, his secret was for ever safe. ButI was picked up with a hole in my side, and so well tended in a house Ican take you to, that, after a hard fight of it, I came round. I bethoughtme of the girl I had left in Surrentum, and I stole away to see how shefared, and to pick up strength. I have been living for weeks, waiting andwatching in my sister's house; for it was my sister, and her husband, thepotter, who took her from me. They have loved her like their own child,and she treats them as her parents, for she knows nothing to the contrary.Watch well your nephew, therefore, when he first sets eyes on me--if hisconscience don't visibly trouble him it will be strange. But there is moreyet to be told you, and we are wasting time. When I came away, matters inmy sister's house were in a bad state. Masthlion had gone to Capreae, toshow Caesar some new kind of glass he had discovered. He was a fool and itcost him his life; for he found the bloody tyrant in the humour to rewardhim with a bed at the bottom of the sea. And more than that, a gang ofslaves, from the palace, I suppose, arrived after dark, and sacked thehouse, and took off the girl back with them. You must understand she hasuncommon good looks, and is good prey for this island, which is no placefor her. Now you know what reason there is for haste to protect her. Icould do nothing; but you are a patrician and powerful, and to you Caesarwill listen.'

  'Alas, you told me she was alive and well, and now you say Tiberius hascarried her off to his island--is this your good news?' cried Fabricius,wringing his hands. 'Better indeed dead, I should say, than left to themercy of that debauched old man! Four days since you left, and as long forme to go thither, what hope is there? Why did you not bring her away atonce? Here, in this house, the house from which you say you took her, youmight have proved your words, or damned yourself for ever. You bid mehope, and then dash hope away. Alive--ay, but if alive, most likely in aliving death--Oh!'

  'Stay a moment,' said Cestus soothingly, 'the danger is great; but yet Ihave hope. I have not told you that the maid has caught the eye of ayouth, and they are betrothed. I had a suspicion that something ill wasbrewing to the girl, and they will bear witness that I did my utmost topersuade them to come to Rome at once, where she might be in safety; butthey flatly refused to move until the potter came back from the island. Henever did come back, but in his place came the slaves, who tore the girlaway. But soon after they had gone, arrived the youth who has fallen inlove with her. He is a centurion, and was posting from Rome to the islandwith despatches, and him I told who she was, and bade him warn Caesar notto harm her--I said I would go straight and bring you, and now the matterrests with yourself.'

  'And the name of the youth you say is betrothed to her?'

  'He is a centurion of the Pretorian Guard, and his name is Martialis.'

  'What?' shouted Fabricius, 'am I living in a dream the gods have wovenround me? Martialis, did you say--Lucius Martialis, a Pretorian--tall abovethe common?'

  'The same--he seemed to know you when I spoke your name, and said you hadlost a child.'

  'Oh, wonder of heaven--the man of all I would have chosen--the son of my oldplaymate! Alas, alas, the more you say, the more unhappy and hopeless thecase! Do you not know that the young man has been flung into a dungeon,awaiting perhaps his death?'

  'By Pluto, no--how could I?' cried Cestus, aghast.

  'It is here, in a letter received this morning from my nephew,' repliedFabricius, taking an epistle from a drawer and glancing down its contents.'Listen!'

  --'By the way, the Centurion Martialis, for whom you took such a sudden fancy, has fallen into disgrace and one of the palace dungeons, for bearding Caesar in his own hall, in pursuit of a wench, a sweetheart of his, who had been brought off to the island, I believe, by force. Of course it means death in some shape or other.'

  The face of Cestus grew dark and sullen as a thundercloud, and he foldedhis arms across his chest without a word.

  'What is to be done?' said Fabricius, the extremity of distress breakingdown the repugnance and indignation with which he regarded his companion.

  'The luck seems against us,' answered the Suburan bitterly; 'he must haveplayed the rash fool. At any rate, your letter shows that I am to bebelieved when I make you a statement. All we can do is to get there asfast as we can and make the best of a bad job. In whatever plight the girlmay be, I can prove who she is, and you can have your fling at yourdutiful nephew.'

  'A poor consolation,' muttered Fabricius; 'but I cannot rest until Ifathom this strange story; were it for nothing but the sake of thisunfortunate Martialis I would seek admittance to Caesar, who is notunknown to me personally. We will start before dawn--you will remain herein the house until then.'

  'I have no wish to go elsewhere, if I may have some supper and a bed, forI am tired out.'

  Fabricius called Natta and handed over the Suburan to his care, but notbefore the articles on the table were once more made up and locked away.Later on the steward appeared to make his report, and was instructed to becareful not to allow the visitor to slip away from the house. When,however, he was further ordered to have everything in readiness for a longand rapid journey southward, Natta, with the license of an old servant,began to expostulate. Not daring to give him any reasons, his master cuthim short very peremptorily and dismissed him. The offended official hadscarcely been gone a minute before he returned, and handed a letter t
o hismaster, with an air of injured dignity. Fabricius broke the sealed threadwhich bound it, and read inside the following:--

  'From L. Martialis.--I have just arrived. Come to me at once, if possible, for your sake and mine and another's. The bearer will conduct you. Erase this at once.'

  'My litter immediately--I go with the bearer of this,' cried Fabricius withsudden energy.

  The steward prepared to open his mouth once more, but an angry stamp ofhis master's foot, and a flash of his eye stopped him--he hurried away.

  Fabricius flung the tablets into the fire and sank trembling on to hisknees.