The Mother of St. Nicholas: A Story of Duty and Peril

by Grant Balfour

  CHAPTER III

  STILL ON THE WATCH.

  Demonicus and Timon stood at the open door of the Christian church, notfar from the Triple Arch of the city wall, listening to the voice ofthe shepherd Orestes, and eagerly watching for something whereby theymight seize him and certain others. But Demonicus, _sycophantes_,constable, and gladiator all in one, was irritated, for the prize hadnot yet arrived; and as the time sped on, his tiger-nature exhibiteditself in low growls at his calmer companion.

  "Another day," snarled he, "and the case will have turned into otherhands."

  "I do not despair," replied Timon, "and yet, to be frank, I almostrepent--it seems a shame to lay hands on such a woman."

  "Art thou, my brave Timon, also becoming a meek and beautifulChristian?" said Demonicus with a sneer.

  Annoyed at the tone, Timon answered firmly--"The lady's life is ablessing to Patara."

  "Soft one, weak one, coward!" hissed Demonicus.

  "The lady is a goddess!" cried Timon, galled into defiance, "and thecoward is he that would lay foul hands upon her."

  "Draw! defend thyself!" roared Demonicus, and the two men faced eachother with drawn swords and glaring eyes.

  At this juncture, Pathema and Miriam appeared upon the scene, andwithout hesitation the former gently and earnestly entreated them notto slay one another. As if by mutual consent, the enraged men loweredtheir sword-points and turned them into the sheaths. Demonicus wasagreeably surprised and he cooled down quickly--before him after allwas the trophy wanted. Timon did not want it--the lady's voice andcourage strengthened his heart's bent in the right course, and hequietly walked away. Demonicus stepped aside; even his rough heartcould be moved to a certain degree of respect, while Pathema, pale andsad, walked noiselessly into the church and sat down with Miriam in thenearest empty seat.

  The shepherd had finished with his earnest simple story of redemption,illustrating it by reference to what he knew so well--the spotless,passive lamb. He was now telling the attentive listeners that the lambwould one clay become a lion, that all human governments would bebroken in pieces, and that Jesus Christ would rule the earth inrighteousness and peace. "It may be," added he with emphasis, "thatthat hope-inspiring day is at hand!"

  Revolutionary doctrine like this the debased Demonicus rejoiced tohear. Like the Jewish pretence before Pilate, it was enough, and thelove of lucre spurred him on. He waited not a moment more, but hurriedboldly into the church. Accusing Pathema of taking part in sedition,he seized her by the arm and ordered her to rise up and follow him.

  Startled at this interruption, the people looked round, while Orestesstopped and made his way swiftly to Pathema's aid, thinking in allsimplicity that a robber or a madman had entered the church. Thegladiator was strong, but the shepherd was stronger, and ere the formercould draw his sword he was pinned to the floor as with an oaken hand.The spectacle was like the grappling of prostrate giants.

  "Thou art guilty of sedition and violence!" yelled Demonicus.

  Others of his official order passing by and hearing the noise, camequickly to his aid, the accusation was repeated, and the shepherdmeekly submitted--he never meant to defy the law.

  Miriam pleaded for her beloved mistress in tears, but she was rudelythrust aside as too insignificant for arrest.

  Then were Pathema and Orestes and others led out of the church and intothe street. They formed a silent, little company, surrounded andfollowed by an excited jeering crowd. And as the crowd increased instrength--"Death to the detested Christians!" was the noisy frequentcry.

  With bowed head and weary heart, and with her sense of modestypainfully shocked, Pathema passed on with her fellow-Christians to thehumiliating place of safe-keeping for the night.

  Their trial came off next day, but it was a mockery. Fanatical hateand bribery did their foul work--there was no justice whatever, andsentence of death was passed!

  An appeal was made to Rome.

  To that great city Pathema and her fellow prisoners were finallytransported, and there they were imprisoned.

  Among the poor and sick and dying of Patara and its neighbourhood, wasno one more missed and mourned than the compassionate maiden wholanguished and wept in a far away Roman prison--wept, not so much forher own wrongs, as for the griefs and pains of others.

  "O Lord, I cry to Thee-- Unending night, a mournful robe, Enwraps my form, and veils my sight From flower, and stream, and all I love-- My bondage break, O God!

  "If I no more behold My Crito, Lord, on him look down With watchful eye, and send Thy light, Restore his strength, and make him Thine; Regard my love for him.

  "Biona's tender care Provide for, Lord, and guard from ill; The father's wound, in pity heal. Remember all the desolate For whom I weep and pray.

  "My parents, Lord, uphold; Their grief assuage; Thy Spirit send And teach of Him who suffered more Than mortal man, to ransom me From death--the Christ, my strength.

  "Yet, Lord, how hard to die So soon. Oh! to behold the sun, To breathe the air, to clasp the flowers, Embrace my 'loved, now loved tenfold; But, Lord, Thy will be done!"

  CHAPTER IV.

  THE AMPHITHEATRE.

  The Colosseum or amphitheatre in Rome was a gigantic, costly building,oval in shape, 100 feet in height, 1900 feet in circumference, andcapable of seating 100,000 spectators--a huge egg laid by Imperialpower and demoniac love of pleasure. Its external wall rose up inthree rows of columns, Doric, Ionic and Corinthian, forming 80 arcadesor arches in each row, and was capped by a solid wall with Corinthianpilasters and small square windows. There was no roof, shelter fromsun or rain being given by a movable awning called the _velarium_. Thehigher arcades were adorned with statues and chariots, and admittedlight and air. Four of the basement arches at the extremities were theentrances for the great, while the remaining seventy-six were for thecommon people. Rising from the top of a low wall or balcony that stoodon the ground many feet inward, was the _gradus_ or slope of seats,which extended half-way up the high surrounding shell. The highestseats were a colonnade or portico reserved for women. On the slopeunder the portico, were the three _maeniana_ or galleries, separated bywalls and by landing places for the many staircases. The uppermostgallery, with benches of wood, was for the _pullati_ or common people;the next below, for the _popularia_; and the farthest down, of stone ormarble and cushioned, for members of the equestrian order. Below thiswas the inner wall or balcony (referred to above), called the _podium_,the place of honour, on which sat the Emperor and his family, senators,chief magistrates, vestal virgins, and distinguished visitors. TheEmperor occupied a pavilion, named the _suggestus_, while the otherssat on cushioned chairs or reclined on couches. The _podium_ was about15 feet from the ground, its edge bordered with metal trellis work, andits front faced with marble, to prevent the ascent of wild beasts whenfrightened or enraged. The arena was the immense space within, beingabout 281 feet by 176, and it was covered with sand, to keep thecombatants from slipping and to absorb their blood. Here some of themartyrs of Jesus poured out their life, to gratify horrible curiosity,and to satiate the hunger of lions.

  On a certain day in the latter half of the third century after Christ,and while the pagan Roman empire still held powerful sway, manythousands of people had assembled in the amphitheatre to witness aseries of blood-curdling sights and combats. Among these sadspectacles was the suffering of a noted Christian from the ruggedprovince of Lycia.

  Demonicus, the great gladiator of Patara city, had fallen, his leftcheek was embedded in the sand, his brawny upper arm lay out limpbeside his broken sword, and his life-blood was streaming away. Hewould indulge in the love of strife and watch the footsteps of theinnocent for glittering gold no more. His conqueror, Telassar, a bigbearded warrior from Rhaetia, stood erect and proud, with his rightfoot on the gladiator's neck, and drinking in the applause that flowedfrom the encircling host of sensation-loving, heartless spectators.

  After
a fierce and prolonged battle, several other gladiators hadploughed the sand in strange quick succession. Here, face downward,was a Samnite with his oblong shield; yonder lay a bare headed_retiarius_ with his net and three-pointed lance. Twenty feet fromDemonicus, a horseman clad in cuirass and helmet was stretched upon hisback wounded and dying, with his round shield and lance lying near.His handsome black charger had instantly wheeled round, and it nowstood over him with lowered neck in beautiful faithfulness, a tributeto its master's care and kindness. The other combatants were beinghooked and drawn away like logs into the _spoliarium_, the grimreceptacle for slaughtered men; the expiring horseman's turn would sooncome. His rival had also reeled and tumbled down, the result ofexhaustion from a severe wound received earlier in the fray. Aided byan official called a _lanista_, the victor's struggles to rise up and,when risen, to keep on his feet, were pitiable in the extreme.Deprived of its rider, his spirited grey horse, itself slightlywounded, was bounding round the arena like a frightened antelope. Andconsidering that there was a circumference of 900 feet in which togalop and wheel, it gave its pursuers no small degree of trouble.

  This state of affairs, coupled with the usual breathing time before thenext act in the tragic drama, allowed the horde of onlookers anopportunity for a little conversation and even merriment. In thepresence of such horrifying sport with human life, the heathen heartrevealed its kinship with the fallen angels of "Paradise Lost."Nevertheless in that Roman pandemonium there were exceptions--a fewhearts of a different cast, in which was at work a silent influence,destined in regal hands to reform the world.

  CHAPTER V.

  THE INFLUENCE WORKING.

  Up in the colonnade reserved for women were two Greek ladies, nativesof Asia Minor: Myrtis, a matron of high rank, and her young friendCoryna, a maiden of medium height and of perfect mould, with a wealthof braided auburn hair. The matron wore a _stola_, a long tunic girdedin broad folds under the breast, and a white _palla_, a wide uppergarment, loosely over her shoulders. Her companion had a white robewith a broad purple border, and over it an azure _palla_ covered withgolden stars. Both ladies had refined feelings and elegant manners.They were in the Colosseum for the first time.

  "What dost thou think of all this, my Myrtis?" enquired Coryna, with amarked expression of pain in her sympathetic countenance.

  "Think," answered Myrtis, striving to repress her agitation; "in thedexterity of the combatants I had a gruesome interest, but upon theprostrate, dying men I cannot look"; and the stout but comely woman oftender feeling turned her fair head farther away from the ghastly sightbelow.

  "It is horrible," remarked Coryna, casting a furtive glance into thearena.

  "I cannot remain," said Myrtis, "but what would Titanus say?" and sheglanced down over the intervening galleries to the _podium_, where herillustrious Roman husband sat.

  Beside him was Coryna's brother, Tharsos, a distinguished youngofficer, wearing a _toga_, with a white _lacerna_ or mantle of elegantform.

  Behind Titanus stood his young son, Carnion, a raven-haired boy oftwelve, dressed in the _toga praetexta_, a becoming garment of whitewith a wide edge of purple, and suspended from his neck the _bulla_, around ornament of gold, worn especially by the children of the noble.He held in his hand a cluster of lilies, a little gift meant forCoryna, but which he had forgotten to hand over when entering theamphitheatre.

  "See how Carnion is disturbed!" observed Coryna; "the dear boy turnsaway his head and will not look at the expiring horseman rightunderneath."

  The mother saw her child's attitude with pleased eyes, indeed they wereoften on him.

  "Though tender-hearted, yet my Carnion is brave and strong," said shewith a smile of pride.

  "He is a soldier, every bit of him," added Coryna. "How different fromhis elder brother, Dinarchus!"

  "Yes, my Dinarchus is a great reader, a young philosopher, a hermit,dear boy. He is now deep in the study of the Christian books. I wouldmy Carnion were at home with him to-day, but he expected to see awild-beast fight."

  "Observe thy husband and my brother--see how calmly they look on!"

  "They are soldiers, Coryna, and accustomed as we know to the spectacleof wounds and blood. To them, the arena must be as nothing to a fieldof battle when the clash of sword and spear is past."

  "Oh, it must be racking, revolting!" exclaimed the other, pained at themental vision of mangled heaps of slain; "and our beloved ones hate thesight."

  "They also dislike what they see before them," said Myrtis. "They loveskill, but they have no love for wanton play with human life."

  "I wish all Rome hated such idle butchery," remarked Coryna earnestly,but rather loudly.

  Overhearing these remarks, spoken in the Latin tongue, a number ofladies sneered and smiled. All, or nearly all, who made that wideinvesting terrace a wreath of brightness and beauty, were dead to pity.At the most they could only feel regret for a wounded favorite or adying hero.

  "I would all the empire were of thy mind, Coryna, and then no such sadspectacle would stain our own beloved, humaner land.

  "Christianity is the deadly enemy of all this wicked work. May itprosper!" said the young lady fervently.

  "There are no Christians here, I venture to say, civil or military,"responded Myrtis. "No follower of the humane Jesus would come withinthese walls, unless wronged and led, or bent on some heroic deed. Butwe worshippers of a hundred gods can thank our divinities for no goodinfluence. I hate the gods: may they forgive me!" and the reflectivelady smiled at her own bold scepticism.

  "They are myths, so my brother says," added Coryna, with a look ofdecision and relief.

  "Tharsos is almost a Christian," remarked Myrtis, "and with him Istrongly sympathize."

  "He is. But see, he is telling thy husband something, and look howearnestly Carnion watches his words. Of a surety something strange orstartling is going to present itself next. The uncertainty about thetime of the Christian's appearance must be removed, but my brother'ssignal will tell."

  CHAPTER VI.

  THE INDIGNATION OF THARSOS.

  Tharsos was speaking with deep but suppressed feeling.

  "I have heard of the maiden," he continued, "and have seen her in mynative province. Her good deeds to the poor and the suffering havebeen countless. Her whole life has been work and pity andself-sacrifice. It represents the highest moral beauty."

  "Strange," remarked Titanus sympathetically, "that the maiden has heldup under prison life so long."

  "Though meek and modest," replied Tharsos, "she possesses a fortitudethat bears incredible strain. I almost believe, indeed I do believe,that her power must come from Him whom they call Jesus of Nazareth."

  "Our laws are evil," said Titanus reflectively, "or such a woman wouldhave known no strain but daily duty. But thou art becoming Christian,Tharsos, yet I do not reproach thee--it were good if all men were."

  At this stage the riderless steed kicked a pursuing guard on the palmof his uplifted hand, raised in self defence, and the spectatorslaughed heartily. Carnion's attention was diverted for a little fromthe serious conversation, and he stepped a few feet away.

  "'Evil,' didst thou say! Our heathen system is corrupt and cursed, anonly too ready tool of ignorant malice. For no other reason could theenemies of the accomplished maiden lead her into this arena"; andTharsos writhed under the thought that justified his grave charge.

  Titanus was astonished to see a man so loyal and reflective, andhitherto so quiet and self-possessed, now quivering with indignation.

  "Be tranquil, my friend, thou canst not mend matters, and thou hastdone thy duty. Hast thou not told me of thy hastening to the Praefectto plead for postponement or release, and that this dignitary hadalready gone to the Colosseum, with all of the lesser magistrates whohad any possible power?"

  "I would that I had received the tidings earlier," was the answer,spoken in a low tone of deep sadness, even despair.

  "Content thee, my dear Tharsos, thou hast done
thy best; and strive tothink that speedy death, even if cruel and revolting, is better thanprolonged prison-hardship and degradation."

  Tharsos turned and looked up at the serried mass of living faces behindhim, his indignation now controlled, yet he saw no one--none but thebeautiful face of his affectionate sister whom he warmly loved; andthere flashed into his heart--"What if she were the victim!" Hiscolour changed and his lips tightened. Some strange thought seemed toenter him, and he arose from his seat.

  "Thou wilt, of course, wait and see the maiden?" said Titanus with aperplexed inquiring look.

  But Tharsos stood up to his full height, and cast one withering looktowards Titanus, as much as if to say--"What, witness the butchery ofone like my own sister!" Turning haughtily on his heel, he strode twosteps back to the staircase, muttering something in which there was thedistinct word Lion, and in a moment he was down and out of view.

  CHAPTER VII.

  THE PERPLEXITY OF CARNION.