by Felix Dahn
CHAPTER XL.
Meanwhile, incidents of grave moment had occurred in the Roman camp.
The friendly feeling between the two Roman Generals had becomestrained, and Bissula's ingenuousness toward both was transformed intofear and distrust. The two friends, once so intimately associated,avoided each other and confined their intercourse and conversationsolely to matters absolutely required by the service. At the same timethe prisoner, now suspiciously watchful, perceived in Ausonius aresentful bitterness toward the Tribune, very alien to his usualgood-nature. The latter, on the other hand, evidently was not angry;even in his cool reserve he seemed to spare his older friend, nay, totreat him with a sort of compassion.
The little maid herself was very unhappy. Her careless unconsciousnesswas completely destroyed, and she did not know which of the two menwhose friendship seemed to be broken, if not by her, on her account,she ought to avoid with the greater fear. This feeling grieved thekind-hearted girl. She was also burdened by anxiety about the future,by dread of the unknown, by rebelliousness--when she was powerless andfully aware of it--against the restraint imposed by the will ofstrangers upon her obstinacy, all threatening her immediately. For,however the two Romans differed in everything else concerning theprisoner, they seemed to unite in one thing: Bissula should never againbe free, never return to the forest hut by the lake, to the familiarscenes of the neighborhood.
At these thoughts tears filled the eyes once so saucy or so proud. Howsadly she admitted to herself that her own folly and defiance were thesole causes which had brought all this misfortune upon her! How kind,how prudent, how loyal Adalo's advice had been! Yet these tears,burning, bitter tears of remorse, nay, yearning, were a relief. Evennow, in the trouble for which she alone was to blame, he had notabandoned her! The first greeting that reached her from her people hadcome from him; he had sent the young brother whom he loved so fondly,and whom therefore she loved for his sake, and Bruna too, her oldplayfellow.
She had dissembled craftily before the soldiers, and wondered loudly atthe animal's "friendliness." But, as soon as she was alone in her tentwith the faithful beast, she clasped the huge head tenderly with bothwhite arms, kissed the broad forehead and lovingly patted the neck ofthe bear, who growled affectionately in reply. Then she slipped herhand through the collar, felt a depression in it, drew it up from theshaggy skin to the light of the Roman lamp, perceived charactersscrawled on it, and read: "Through the gate to the lake."
Her heart throbbed warmly. So her friends had already consulted abouther escape! They were giving her the safest direction, the part of thecamp where her companions would wait for her. But they could notpossibly mean that she should try to make her way now, without furtherdelay, through the lake gate, that is, through the "Porta Decumana," soclosely guarded day and night. Not now! But when?
Evidently as soon as something happened which would render escapepossible; then she was to choose that direction. But what was tohappen? An attack of the Alemanni? Ausonius laughed at it. Evencautious Saturninus had said: "Unless they fly over it like theswallows that are now preparing for departure, they will not come intothis solid camp."
So she racked her little brains, pondering over all sorts ofpossibilities which might bring her liberty against or with the will ofthe Romans. Should she appeal to Ausonius again? No!
A strange timidity had taken possession of her ever since her lastinterview with him. She had never cherished any affection for theclever, eloquent man except the feeling a daughter has for a father;but recently, in making the proposal to take her with him, his eyes hadrested on her so strangely. Never had he looked at her so before. Itwas like the gaze Saturninus fixed upon her when he seized her outsideof the forest hut--but never again, not even when he told her that shebelonged to him and he would not release her.
So it happened that the sensitive girl, alarmed by the suddenlydiscovered ardor of the older man, felt safer and more at ease with theyounger but undemonstrative one. She avoided Ausonius; she almostsought Saturninus, to whom, at the beginning and during the wholecourse of her captivity, she had learned to be grateful as to awatchful guardian.
Often and often, since reading Bruna's message, she walked towardthe lake gate, without hoping to find it unwatched or carelesslyguarded,--the Tribune kept too strict a rule, too sharp an oversightfor that,--but to impress upon her mind the exact locality of thestreets and tents which might afford a hiding-place near the gate whereshe might await, close at hand, the most favorable moment.
She had soon chosen for this purpose a towering heap of beams, gabions,and boards piled one above another, which had not been used in buildingthe camp and had been left here: it rose high above her head, and whenbehind it, she was concealed from the view of those at the gate or inthe street between the tents. But she never lingered long at the spot,lest she might arouse suspicion.
Bissula sought from preference the opposite side of the camp, facingthe north, where the lofty pine-tree of the earth-goddess rose besidethe broad sacrificial stones of the altar, spreading out its mightybranches, and from above the wall the eye could rove freely over theforests to the distant peaks where, veiled by mists, the Holy Mountaintowered. Her thoughts always flew thither, not to the eastern marshes,not to Suomar. She was often anxious about her grandmother, but Zerchohad certainly concealed her; and now that "the obstinate redhead" couldno longer say no, probably on the Holy Mountain.
"Therefore"--this was the excuse she willingly made toherself--"_therefore_ I cannot help thinking constantly of the HolyMountain, Oh no! That isn't true. It is not for my grandmother's sake.Adalo, Adalo, help!"
So she had called aloud the evening after the refusal to set her atliberty, perched high among the branches of the pine-tree into whichshe liked to climb to dream alone, and at the same moment stretched herbeautiful arms, with a gesture of longing entreaty, toward thenorthwest, where lightning was flashing over the mountain peaks.
On the evening after the inspection (it was the day of the assembly onthe Holy Mountain) she walked through the streets of the camp, thinkingand dreaming of her liberation, also of her liberator. She had tiedfaithful Bruna firmly to the poles of her tent; for there hadrepeatedly been serious trouble when she took the animal with her: boysbelonging to the camp followers pelted her with stones, from safehiding-places, till she was greatly infuriated.
To Ausonius's nephew, especially, the bear showed intense antipathy,rising on her hind legs and growling furiously whenever she saw him,though he anxiously kept out of her way and never teased her. Only withthe utmost difficulty, by clasping her arms around the animal, had sheprevented Bruna from attacking him.
"Your she-bear understands Latin," said Saturninus, who had sprung tohelp her, smiling. "She knew what Herculanus said when he swore thatsome day she should pay in the amphitheatre at Rome, under the teeth ofhis Thessalian dogs, for the mischief she meant to do him here."
"Bruna in Rome?" the girl cried defiantly. "No more--than Bissula inBurdigala!" But as she spoke she almost wept from rage, hate, and fear.
