by Lew Wallace
CHAPTER IV
In the Bay of Antemona, east of Cythera the island, the hundredgalleys assembled. There the tribune gave one day to inspection.He sailed then to Naxos, the largest of the Cyclades, midway thecoasts of Greece and Asia, like a great stone planted in thecentre of a highway, from which he could challenge everythingthat passed; at the same time, he would be in position to goafter the pirates instantly, whether they were in the AEgeanor out on the Mediterranean.
As the fleet, in order, rowed in towards the mountain shores of theisland, a galley was descried coming from the north. Arrius went tomeet it. She proved to be a transport just from Byzantium, and fromher commander he learned the particulars of which he stood in mostneed.
The pirates were from all the farther shores of the Euxine.Even Tanais, at the mouth of the river which was supposed to feedPalus Maeotis, was represented among them. Their preparations hadbeen with the greatest secrecy. The first known of them was theirappearance off the entrance to the Thracian Bosphorus, followedby the destruction of the fleet in station there. Thence to theoutlet of the Hellespont everything afloat had fallen their prey.There were quite sixty galleys in the squadron, all well mannedand supplied. A few were biremes, the rest stout triremes. A Greekwas in command, and the pilots, said to be familiar with all theEastern seas, were Greek. The plunder had been incalculable.The panic, consequently, was not on the sea alone; cities,with closed gates, sent their people nightly to the walls.Traffic had almost ceased.
Where were the pirates now?
To this question, of most interest to Arrius, he received answer.
After sacking Hephaestia, on the island of Lemnos, the enemy hadcoursed across to the Thessalian group, and, by last account,disappeared in the gulfs between Euboea and Hellas.
Such were the tidings.
Then the people of the island, drawn to the hill-tops by therare spectacle of a hundred ships careering in united squadron,beheld the advance division suddenly turn to the north, and theothers follow, wheeling upon the same point like cavalry in acolumn. News of the piratical descent had reached them, and now,watching the white sails until they faded from sight up betweenRhene and Syros, the thoughtful among them took comfort, and weregrateful. What Rome seized with strong hand she always defended:in return for their taxes, she gave them safety.
The tribune was more than pleased with the enemy's movements;he was doubly thankful to Fortune. She had brought swift andsure intelligence, and had lured his foes into the waters where,of all others, destruction was most assured. He knew the havoc onegalley could play in a broad sea like the Mediterranean, and thedifficulty of finding and overhauling her; he knew, also, how thosevery circumstances would enhance the service and glory if, at one blow,he could put a finish to the whole piratical array.
If the reader will take a map of Greece and the AEgean, he willnotice the island of Euboea lying along the classic coast like arampart against Asia, leaving a channel between it and the continentquite a hundred and twenty miles in length, and scarcely an averageof eight in width. The inlet on the north had admitted the fleetof Xerxes, and now it received the bold raiders from the Euxine.The towns along the Pelasgic and Meliac gulfs were rich and theirplunder seductive. All things considered, therefore, Arrius judgedthat the robbers might be found somewhere below Thermopylae.Welcoming the chance, he resolved to enclose them north and south,to do which not an hour could be lost; even the fruits and winesand women of Naxos must be left behind. So he sailed away withoutstop or tack until, a little before nightfall, Mount Ocha was seenupreared against the sky, and the pilot reported the Euboean coast.
At a signal the fleet rested upon its oars. When the movementwas resumed, Arrius led a division of fifty of the galleys,intending to take them up the channel, while another division,equally strong, turned their prows to the outer or seaward sideof the island, with orders to make all haste to the upper inlet,and descend sweeping the waters.
To be sure, neither division was equal in number to the pirates;but each had advantages in compensation, among them, by no meansleast, a discipline impossible to a lawless horde, however brave.Besides, it was a shrewd count on the tribune's side, if, peradventure,one should be defeated, the other would find the enemy shattered by hisvictory, and in condition to be easily overwhelmed.
Meantime Ben-Hur kept his bench, relieved every six hours. The restin the Bay of Antemona had freshened him, so that the oar wasnot troublesome, and the chief on the platform found no fault.
People, generally, are not aware of the ease of mind there is inknowing where they are, and where they are going. The sensation ofbeing lost is a keen distress; still worse is the feeling one has indriving blindly into unknown places. Custom had dulled the feelingwith Ben-Hur, but only measurably. Pulling away hour after hour,sometimes days and nights together, sensible all the time that thegalley was gliding swiftly along some of the many tracks of thebroad sea, the longing to know where he was, and whither going,was always present with him; but now it seemed quickened by thehope which had come to new life in his breast since the interviewwith the tribune. The narrower the abiding-place happens to be,the more intense is the longing; and so he found. He seemed tohear every sound of the ship in labor, and listened to each oneas if it were a voice come to tell him something; he looked tothe grating overhead, and through it into the light of which sosmall a portion was his, expecting, he knew not what; and manytimes he caught himself on the point of yielding to the impulseto speak to the chief on the platform, than which no circumstanceof battle would have astonished that dignitary more.
In his long service, by watching the shifting of the meagersunbeams upon the cabin floor when the ship was under way, he hadcome to know, generally, the quarter into which she was sailing.This, of course, was only of clear days like those good-fortunewas sending the tribune. The experience had not failed him in theperiod succeeding the departure from Cythera. Thinking they weretending towards the old Judean country, he was sensitive to everyvariation from the course. With a pang, he had observed the suddenchange northward which, as has been noticed, took place near Naxos:the cause, however, he could not even conjecture; for it must beremembered that, in common with his fellow-slaves, he knew nothingof the situation, and had no interest in the voyage. His place wasat the oar, and he was held there inexorably, whether at anchoror under sail. Once only in three years had he been permitted anoutlook from the deck. The occasion we have seen. He had no ideathat, following the vessel he was helping drive, there was a greatsquadron close at hand and in beautiful order; no more did he knowthe object of which it was in pursuit.
When the sun, going down, withdrew his last ray from the cabin,the galley still held northward. Night fell, yet Ben-Hur coulddiscern no change. About that time the smell of incense floateddown the gangways from the deck.
"The tribune is at the altar," he thought. "Can it be we are goinginto battle?"
He became observant.
Now he had been in many battles without having seen one. From hisbench he had heard them above and about him, until he was familiarwith all their notes, almost as a singer with a song. So, too, he hadbecome acquainted with many of the preliminaries of an engagement,of which, with a Roman as well as a Greek, the most invariablewas the sacrifice to the gods. The rites were the same as thoseperformed at the beginning of a voyage, and to him, when noticed,they were always an admonition.
A battle, it should be observed, possessed for him and hisfellow-slaves of the oar an interest unlike that of the sailorand marine; it came, not of the danger encountered but of thefact that defeat, if survived, might bring an alteration ofcondition--possibly freedom--at least a change of masters,which might be for the better.
In good time the lanterns were lighted and hung by the stairs,and the tribune came down from the deck. At his word the marinesput on their armor. At his word again, the machines were looked to,and spears, javelins, and arrows, in great sheaves, brought andlaid upon the floor, together with jars of inflammable oil, andbaskets of cotto
n balls wound loose like the wicking of candles.And when, finally, Ben-Hur saw the tribune mount his platform anddon his armor, and get his helmet and shield out, the meaning ofthe preparations might not be any longer doubted, and he madeready for the last ignominy of his service.
To every bench, as a fixture, there was a chain with heavy anklets.These the hortator proceeded to lock upon the oarsmen, going fromnumber to number, leaving no choice but to obey, and, in event ofdisaster, no possibility of escape.
In the cabin, then, a silence fell, broken, at first, only by thesough of the oars turning in the leathern cases. Every man upon thebenches felt the shame, Ben-Hur more keenly than his companions.He would have put it away at any price. Soon the clanking of thefetters notified him of the progress the chief was making in hisround. He would come to him in turn; but would not the tribuneinterpose for him?
The thought may be set down to vanity or selfishness, as the readerpleases; it certainly, at that moment, took possession of Ben-Hur.He believed the Roman would interpose; anyhow, the circumstance wouldtest the man's feelings. If, intent upon the battle, he would butthink of him, it would be proof of his opinion formed--proof thathe had been tacitly promoted above his associates in misery--suchproof as would justify hope.
Ben-Hur waited anxiously. The interval seemed like an age. At everyturn of the oar he looked towards the tribune, who, his simplepreparations made, lay down upon the couch and composed himselfto rest; whereupon number sixty chid himself, and laughed grimly,and resolved not to look that way again.
The hortator approached. Now he was at number one--the rattle ofthe iron links sounded horribly. At last number sixty! Calm fromdespair, Ben-Hur held his oar at poise, and gave his foot to theofficer. Then the tribune stirred--sat up--beckoned to the chief.
A strong revulsion seized the Jew. From the hortator, the greatman glanced at him; and when he dropped his oar all the sectionof the ship on his side seemed aglow. He heard nothing of whatwas said; enough that the chain hung idly from its staple inthe bench, and that the chief, going to his seat, began to beatthe sounding-board. The notes of the gavel were never so likemusic. With his breast against the leaded handle, he pushed withall his might--pushed until the shaft bent as if about to break.
The chief went to the tribune, and, smiling, pointed to numbersixty.
"What strength!" he said.
"And what spirit!" the tribune answered. "Perpol! He is betterwithout the irons. Put them on him no more."
So saying, he stretched himself upon the couch again.
The ship sailed on hour after hour under the oars in water scarcelyrippled by the wind. And the people not on duty slept, Arrius inhis place, the marines on the floor.
Once--twice--Ben-Hur was relieved; but he could not sleep. Threeyears of night, and through the darkness a sunbeam at last! At seaadrift and lost, and now land! Dead so long, and, lo! the thrill andstir of resurrection. Sleep was not for such an hour. Hope dealswith the future; now and the past are but servants that wait onher with impulse and suggestive circumstance. Starting from thefavor of the tribune, she carried him forward indefinitely.The wonder is, not that things so purely imaginative as theresults she points us to can make us so happy, but that we canreceive them as so real. They must be as gorgeous poppies underthe influence of which, under the crimson and purple and gold,reason lies down the while, and is not. Sorrows assuaged, homeand the fortunes of his house restored; mother and sister inhis arms once more--such were the central ideas which made himhappier that moment than he had ever been. That he was rushing,as on wings, into horrible battle had, for the time, nothing todo with his thoughts. The things thus in hope were unmixed withdoubts--they WERE. Hence his joy so full, so perfect, there wasno room in his heart for revenge. Messala, Gratus, Rome, and allthe bitter, passionate memories connected with them, were as deadplagues--miasms of the earth above which he floated, far and safe,listening to singing stars.
The deeper darkness before the dawn was upon the waters, and allthings going well with the Astroea, when a man, descending fromthe deck, walked swiftly to the platform where the tribune slept,and awoke him. Arrius arose, put on his helmet, sword, and shield,and went to the commander of the marines.
"The pirates are close by. Up and ready!" he said, and passed tothe stairs, calm, confident, insomuch that one might have thought,"Happy fellow! Apicius has set a feast for him."
