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by Шарлотта Мэри Йондж

  In language, learning, and manners Verronax the Arvernian was, however, a highly cultivated Roman, as Sidonius perceived in the first word of respectful welcome that he spoke when presented to the Bishop.

  All had gone off well. Old Meinhard had been on the watch, and had restrained any insult, if such had been intended, by the other Goths, who had stood watching in silence the blessing of the fields and vineyards of Deodatus.

  The peril over, the Æmilian household partook cheerfully of the social meal. Marina, the wife of Marcus, and Columba sat on carved chairs, the men of the family reclining on the couches constructed to hold three. The bright wit of Sidonius, an eminent conversationalist, shone the more brightly for his rejoicing at his return to his beloved country and flock, and to the friend of his youth. There were such gleams in the storms that were overwhelming the tottering Empire, to which indeed these men belonged only in heart and in name.

  The meal was for a fast day, and consisted of preparations of eggs, milk, flour, and fish from the mountain streams, but daintily cooked, for the traditions of the old Roman gastronomy survived, and Marina, though half a Gaul, was anxious that her housekeeping should shine in the eyes of the Bishop, who in his secular days had been known to have a full appreciation of the refinements of the table.

  When the family rose and the benediction had been pronounced, Columba was seen collecting some of the remnants in a basket.

  "Thou surely dost not intend going to that widow of thine to-day," exclaimed her sister-in-law, Marina, "after such a walk on the mountain?"

  "Indeed I must, sister," replied Columba; "she was in much pain and weakness yesterday, and needs me more than usual."

  "And it is close to the farm of Deodatus," Marina continued to object, "where, the slaves tell me, there are I know not how many fresh barbarian guests!"

  "I shall of course take Stentor and Athenais," said Columba.

  "A pair of slaves can be of no use. Marcus, dost thou hear? Forbid thy sister's folly."

  "I will guard my sister," said Lucius, becoming aware of what was passing.

  "Who should escort her save myself?" said the graceful Verronax, turning at the same moment from replying to some inquiries from the Bishop.

  "I doubt whether his escort be not the most perilous thing of all," sighed Marina.

  "Come, Marina," said her husband good-humouredly, "be not always a boder of ill. Thou deemest a Goth worse than a gorgon or hydra, whereas, I assure you, they are very good fellows after all, if you stand up to them like a man, and trust their word. Old Meinhard is a capital hunting comrade."

  Wherewith the worthy Marcus went off with his little son at his heels to inspect the doings of the slaves in the farm-court in the rear, having no taste for the occupation of his father and the Bishop, who composed themselves to listen to a MS. of the letters of S. Gregory Nazianzen, which Sidonius had lately acquired, and which was read aloud to them by a secretary slave.

  Some time had thus passed when a confused sound made the Senator start up. He beheld his daughter and her escort within the lower court, but the slaves were hastily barring the gates behind them, and loud cries of "Justice! Vengeance!" in the Gothic tongue, struck his only too well-accustomed ears.

  Columba flung herself before him, crying-

  "O father, have pity! It was for our holy faith."

  "He blasphemed," was all that was uttered by Verronax, on whose dress there was blood.

  "Open the gates," called out the Senator, as the cry outside waxed louder. "None shall cry for justice in vain at the gate of an Æmilius. Go, Marcus, admit such as have a right to enter and be heard. Rise, my daughter, show thyself a true Roman and Christian maiden before these barbarians. And thou, my son, alas, what hast thou done?" he added, turning to Verronax, and taking his arm while walking towards the tribunal, where he did justice as chief magistrate of the Roman settlement.

  A few words told all. While Columba was engaged with her sick widow, a young stranger Goth strolled up, one who had stood combing his long fair hair, and making contemptuous gestures as the Rogation procession passed in the morning. He and his comrades began offensively to scoff at the two young men for having taken part in the procession, uttering the blasphemies which the invocation of our Blessed Lord was wont to call forth.

  Verronax turned wrathfully round, a hasty challenge passed, a rapid exchange of blows; and while the Arvernian received only a slight scratch, the Goth fell slain before the hovel. His comrades were unarmed and intimidated. They rushed back to fetch weapons from the house of Deodatus, and there had been full time to take Columba safely home, Verronax and his dog stalking statelily in the rear as her guardians.

  "Thou shouldst have sought thine impregnable crag, my son," said the Senator sadly.

  "To bring the barbarian vengeance upon this house?" responded Verronax.

  "Alas, my son, thou know'st mine oath."

  "I know it, my father."

  "It forbids not thy ransoming thyself."

  Verronax smiled slightly, and touched the collar at his throat.

  "This is all the gold that I possess."

  The Senator rapidly appraised it with his eye. There was a regular tariff on the lives of free Romans, free Goths, guests, and trusted men of the King; and if the deceased were merely a lite, or freeman of the lowest rank, it was just possible that the gold collar might purchase its master's life, provided he were not too proud to part with the ancestral badge.

  By this time the tribunal had been reached-a special portion of the peristyle, with a curule chair, inlaid with ivory, placed on a tesselated pavement, as in the old days of the Republic, and a servant on each side held the lictor's axe and bundle of rods, which betokened stern Roman justice, wellnigh a mockery now. The forum of the city would have been the regular place, but since an earthquake had done much damage there, and some tumults had taken place among the citizens, the seat of judgment had by general consent been placed in the Æmilian household as the place of chief security, and as he was the accredited magistrate with their Gothic masters, as Sidonius had been before his banishment.

  As Sidonius looked at the grave face of the Senator, set like a rock, but deadly pale, he thought it was no unworthy representative of Brutus or Manlius of old who sat on that seat.

  Alas! would he not be bound by his fatal oath to be only too true a representative of their relentless justice?

  On one side of the judgment-seat stood Verronax, towering above all around; behind him Marina and Columba, clinging together, trembling and tearful, but their weeping restrained by the looks of the Senator, and by a certain remnant of hope.

  To the other side advanced the Goths, all much larger and taller men than any one except the young Gaulish chieftain. The foremost was a rugged-looking veteran, with grizzled locks and beard, and a sunburnt face. This was Meinhard, the head of the garrison on Deodatus's farm, a man well known to Æmilius, and able to speak Latin enough to hold communication with the Romans. Several younger men pressed rudely behind him, but they were evidently impressed by the dignity of the tribunal, though it was with a loud and fierce shout that they recognised Verronax standing so still and unmoved.

  "Silence!" exclaimed the Senator, lifting his ivory staff.

  Meinhard likewise made gestures to hush them, and they ceased, while the Senator, greeting Meinhard and inviting him to share his seat of authority, demanded what they asked.

  "Right!" was their cry. "Right on the slayer of Odorik, the son of Odo, of the lineage of Odin, our guest, and of the King's trust."

  "Right shall ye have, O Goths," returned Æmilius. "A Roman never flinches from justice. Who are witnesses to the deed? Didst thou behold it, O Meinhard, son of Thorulf?"

  "No, noble Æmilius. It had not been wrought had I been present; but here are those who can avouch it. Stand forth, Egilulf, son of Amalrik."

  "It needs not," said Verronax. "I acknowledge the deed. The Goth scoffed at us for invoking a created Man. I could not stand by to hear my
Master insulted, and I smote him, but in open fight, whereof I bear the token."

  "That is true," said Meinhard. "I know that Verronax, the Arvernian, would strike no coward blow. Therefore did I withhold these comrades of Odorik from rushing on thee in their fury; but none the less art thou in feud with Odo, the father of Odorik, who will require of thee either thy blood or the wehrgeld."

  "Wehrgeld I have none to pay," returned Verronax, in the same calm voice.

  "I have sworn!" said Æmilius in a clear low voice, steady but full of suppressed anguish. A shriek was heard among the women, and Sidonius stepped forth and demanded the amount of wehrgeld.

  "That must be for King Euric to decide," returned Meinhard. "He will fix the amount, and it will be for Odo to choose whether he will accept it. The mulct will be high, for the youth was of high Baltic blood, and had but lately arrived with his father from the north!"

  "Enough," said Verronax. "Listen, Meinhard. Thou knowest me, and the Arvernian faith. Leave me this night to make my peace with Heaven and my parting with man. At the hour of six to-morrow morning, I swear that I will surrender myself into thine hands to be dealt with as it may please the father of this young man."

  "So let it be, Meinhard," said Æmilius, in a stifled voice.

  "I know Æmilius, and I know Verronax," returned the Goth.

  They grasped hands, and then Meinhard drew off his followers, leaving two, at the request of Marcus, to act as sentinels at the gate.

  The Senator sat with his hands clasped over his face in unutterable grief, Columba threw herself into the arms of her betrothed, Marina tore her hair, and shrieked out-

  "I will not hold my peace! It is cruel! It is wicked! It is barbarous!"

  "Silence, Marina," said Verronax. "It is just! I am no ignorant child. I knew the penalty when I incurred it! My Columba, remember, though it was a hasty blow, it was in defence of our Master's Name."

  The thought might comfort her by and by; as yet it could not.

  The Senator rose and took his hand.

  "Thou dost forgive me, my son?" he said.

  "I should find it hard to forgive one who lessened my respect for the Æmilian constancy," returned Verronax.

  Then he led Marcus aside to make arrangements with him respecting his small mountain estate and the remnant of his tribe, since Marina was his nearest relative, and her little son would, if he were cut off, be the sole heir to the ancestral glories of Vercingetorix.

  "And I cannot stir to save such a youth as that!" cried the Senator in a tone of agony as he wrung the hand of Sidonius. "I have bound mine own hands, when I would sell all I have to save him. O my friend and father, well mightest thou blame my rashness, and doubt the justice that could be stern where the heart was not touched."

  "But I am not bound by thine oath, my friend," said Sidonius. "True it is that the Master would not be served by the temporal sword, yet such zeal as that of this youth merits that we should strive to deliver him. Utmost justice would here be utmost wrong. May I send one of your slaves as a messenger to my son to see what he can raise? Though I fear me gold and silver is more scarce than it was in our younger days."

  This was done, and young Lucius also took a summons from the Bishop to the deacons of the Church in the town, authorising the use of the sacred vessels to raise the ransom, but almost all of these had been already parted with in the time of a terrible famine which had ravaged Arvernia a few years previously, and had denuded all the wealthy and charitable families of their plate and jewels. Indeed Verronax shrank from the treasure of the Church being thus applied. Columba might indeed weep for him exultingly as a martyr, but, as he well knew, martyrs do not begin as murderers, and passion, pugnacity, and national hatred had been uppermost with him. It was the hap of war, and he was ready to take it patiently, and prepare himself for death as a brave Christian man, but not a hero or a martyr; and there was little hope either that a ransom so considerable as the rank of the parties would require could be raised without the aid of the Æmilii, or that, even if it were, the fierce old father would accept it. The more civilised Goths, whose families had ranged Italy, Spain, and Aquitaine for two or three generations, made murder the matter of bargain that had shocked Æmilius; but this was an old man from the mountain cradle of the race, unsophisticated, and but lately converted.

  In the dawn of the summer morning Bishop Sidonius celebrated the Holy Eucharist for the mournful family in the oratory, a vaulted chamber underground, which had served the same purpose in the days of persecution, and had the ashes of two tortured martyrs of the Æmilian household, mistress and slave, enshrined together beneath the altar, which had since been richly inlaid with coloured marble.

  Afterwards a morning meal was served for Verronax and for the elder Æmilius, who intended to accompany him on his sad journey to Bordigala, where the King and the father of Odorik were known to be at the time. Sidonius, who knew himself to have some interest with Euric, would fain have gone with them, but his broken health rendered a rapid journey impossible, and he hoped to serve the friends better by remaining to console the two women, and to endeavour to collect the wehrgeld in case it should be accepted.

  The farewells, owing to the Roman dignity of Æmilius and the proud self-respect of the Arvernian, were more calm than had been feared. Even thus, thought Sidonius, must Vercingetorix have looked when he mounted his horse and rode from his lines at Alesia to save his people, by swelling Cæsar's triumph and dying beneath the Capitol. Oh, absit omen! Columba was borne up by hopes which Verronax would not dash to the ground, and she received his embrace with steadfast, though brimming eyes, and an assurance that she would pray without ceasing.

  Lucius was not to be found, having no doubt gone forward, intending to direct his friend on his journey, and there part with him; but the saddest part of the whole was the passionate wailings and bemoanings of the remnants of his clan. One of his attendants had carried the tidings; wild Keltic men and women had come down for one last sight of their Fearnagh MacFearccadorigh, as they called him by his true Gaulish name-passionately kissing his hands and the hem of his mantle, beating their breasts amid howls of lamentation, and throwing themselves in his path, as, with the high spirit which could not brook to be fetched as a criminal, he made his way to the gate.

  Mounted on two strong mules, the only animals serviceable in the mountain paths, the Senator and Verronax passed the gate, Marcus walking beside them.

  "We are beforehand with the Goth," said Verronax, as he came out.

  "Lazy hounds!" said Marcus. "Their sentinels have vanished. It would serve them right if thou didst speed over the border to the Burgundians!"

  "I shall have a laugh at old Meinhard," said Verronax. "Little he knows of discipline."

  "No doubt they have had a great lyke wake, as they barbarously call their obsequies," said the Senator, "and are sleeping off their liquor."

  "We will rouse them," said the Arvernian; "it will be better than startling poor Columba."

  So on they moved, the wildly-clad, barefooted Gauls, with locks streaming in the wind, still keeping in the rear. They reached the long, low farm-buildings belonging to Deodatus, a half-bred Roman Gaul, with a large vineyard and numerous herds of cattle. The place was wonderfully quiet. The Goths seemed to be indulging in very sound slumbers after their carouse, for nothing was to be seen but the slaves coming in with bowls of milk from the cattle. Some of them must have given notice of the approach of the Senator, for Deodatus came to his door with the salutation, "Ave clarissime!" and then stood staring at Verronax, apparently petrified with wonder; and as the young chief demanded where was Meinhard, he broke forth-

  "Does his nobility ask me? It is two hours since every Goth quitted the place, except the dead man in the house of the widow Dubhina, and we are breathing freely for once in our lives. Up they went towards the Æmilian villa with clamour and threats enough to make one's blood run cold, and they must be far on their way to Bordigala Gergovia by this time."

&n
bsp; "His nobility must have passed through their midst unseen and unheard!" cried old Julitta, a hardworking, dried-up woman, clasping her sinewy, wrinkled hands; "a miracle, and no wonder, since our holy Bishop has returned."

  The excitable household was on the point of breaking out into acclamation, but Verronax exclaimed: "Silence, children! Miracles are not for the bloodguilty. If it be, as I fear, they have met Lucius and seized him in my stead, we must push on at once to save him."

  "Meinhard could not mistake your persons," returned Æmilius; but while he was speaking, a messenger came up and put into his hand one of the waxen tablets on which notes were written-

  L. ÆM. VIC. TO M. ÆM. VIC. S. Q.,-Pardon and bless thy son. Meinhard assures me that I shall be accepted as equal in birth and accessory to the deed. Remember Columba and the value of Verronax's life, and let me save him. Consent and hold him back. Greet all the dear ones.-Vale.

  The little tablet could hold no more than this-almost every word curtailed. The Senator's firm lip quivered at last as he exclaimed, "My brave son. Thus does he redeem his father's rash oath!"

  Verronax, whose Roman breeding had held his impulsive Keltic nature in check as long as it was only himself that was in danger, now broke into loud weeping-

  "My Lucius! my brother beloved! and didst thou deem Arvernian honour fallen so low that I could brook such a sacrifice? Let us hasten on instantly, my father, while yet it is time!"

  It would have been impossible to withhold him, and Marcus returned with the strange tidings, while his father and Verronax set forth with a few servants, mounted like themselves on mules, to reach the broad Roman road that led from Gergovia to Bordigala. Three wild, barefooted Gauls of Verronax's clan shook their heads at all his attempts to send them home, and went running along after him with the same fidelity as poor Celer, whom he had left tied up at the villa as his parting gift to little Victorinus, but who had broken loose, and came bounding to his master, caressing him with nose and tongue at their first halt.