'Ay! he, good-hearted epicure, believes in the Greek's innocence! You remind me that he has become his surety; and, therefore, till the trial, is responsible for his appearance.' Well, Sallust's house is better than a prison, especially that wretched hole in the forum. But for what can you seek Glaucus?'
'Why, noble Clodius, if we could save him from execution it would be well.
The condemnation of the rich is a blow upon society itself. I should like to confer with him--for I hear he has recovered his senses--and ascertain the motives of his crime; they may be so extenuating as to plead in his defence.'
'You are benevolent, Arbaces.'
'Benevolence is the duty of one who aspires to wisdom,' replied the Egyptian, modestly. 'Which way lies Sallust's mansion?'
'I will show you,' said Clodius, 'if you will suffer me to accompany you a few steps. But, pray what has become of the poor girl who was to have wed the Athenian--the sister of the murdered priest?'
'Alas! well-nigh insane! Sometimes she utters imprecations on the murderer--then suddenly stops short--then cries, "But why curse? Oh, my brother! Glaucus was not thy murderer--never will I believe it!" Then she begins again, and again stops short, and mutters awfully to herself, "Yet if it were indeed he?"'
'Unfortunate Ione!'
'But it is well for her that those solemn cares to the dead which religion enjoins have hitherto greatly absorbed her attention from Glaucus and herself: and, in the dimness of her senses, she scarcely seems aware that Glaucus is apprehended and on the eve of trial. When the funeral rites due to Apaecides are performed, her apprehension will return; and then I fear me much that her friends will be revolted by seeing her run to succour and aid the murderer of her brother!'
'Such scandal should be prevented.'
'I trust I have taken precautions to that effect. I am her lawful guardian, and have just succeeded in obtaining permission to escort her, after the funeral of Apaecides, to my own house; there, please the gods! she will be secure.'
'You have done well, sage Arbaces. And, now, yonder is the house of Sallust. The gods keep you! Yet, hark you, Arbaces--why so gloomy and unsocial? Men say you can be gay--why not let me initiate you into the pleasures of Pompeii?--I flatter myself no one knows them better.'
'I thank you, noble Clodius: under your auspices I might venture, I think, to wear the philyra: but, at my age, I should be an awkward pupil.'
'Oh, never fear; I have made converts of fellows of seventy. The rich, too, are never old.'
'You flatter me. At some future time I will remind you of your promise.'
'You may command Marcus Clodius at all times--and so, vale!'
'Now,' said the Egyptian, soliloquising, 'I am not wantonly a man of blood;I would willingly save this Greek, if, by confessing the crime, he will lose himself for ever to Ione, and for ever free me from the chance of discovery;and I can save him by persuading Julia to own the philtre, which will be held his excuse. But if he do not confess the crime, why, Julia must be shamed from the confession, and he must die!--die, lest he prove my rival with the living--die, that he may be my proxy with the dead! Will he confess?--can he not be persuaded that in his delirium he struck the blow?
To me it would give far greater safety than even his death. Hem! we must hazard the experiment.'
Sweeping along the narrow street, Arbaces now approached the house of Sallust, when he beheld a dark form wrapped in a cloak, and stretched at length across the threshold of the door.
So still lay the figure, and so dim was its outline, that any other than Arbaces might have felt a superstitious fear, lest he beheld one of those grim lemures, who, above all other spots, haunted the threshold of the homes they formerly possessed. But not for Arbaces were such dreams.
'Rise!' said he, touching the figure with his foot; 'thou obstructest the way!'
'Ha! who art thou cried the form, in a sharp tone, and as she raised herself from the ground, the starlight fell full on the pale face and fixed but sightless eyes of Nydia the Thessalian. 'Who art thou? I know the burden of thy voice.'
'Blind girl! what dost thou here at this late hour? Fie!--is this seeming thy sex or years? Home, girl!'
'I know thee,' said Nydia, in a low voice, 'thou art Arbaces the Egyptian': then, as if inspired by some sudden impulse, she flung herself at his feet, and clasping his knees, exclaimed, in a wild and passionate tone, 'Oh dread and potent man! save him--save him! He is not guilty--it is I! He lies within, ill-dying, and I--I am the hateful cause! And they will not admit me to him--they spurn the blind girl from the hall. Oh, heal him! thou knowest some herb--some spell--some countercharm, for it is a potion that hath wrought this frenzy!
'Hush, child! I know all!--thou forgettest that I accompanied Julia to the saga's home. Doubtless her hand administered the draught; but her reputation demands thy silence. Reproach not thyself--what must be, must: meanwhile, I seek the criminal--he may yet be saved. Away!'
Thus saying, Arbaces extricated himself from the clasp of the despairing Thessalian, and knocked loudly at the door.
In a few moments the heavy bars were heard suddenly to yield, and the porter, half opening the door, demanded who was there.
'Arbaces--important business to Sallust relative to Glaucus. I come from the praetor.'
The porter, half yawning, half groaning, admitted the tall form of the Egyptian. Nydia sprang forward. 'How is he?' she cried; 'tell me--tell me!'
'Ho, mad girl! is it thou still?--for shame! Why, they say he is sensible.'
'The gods be praised!--and you will not admit me? Ah! I beseech thee...'
'Admit thee!--no. A pretty salute I should prepare for these shoulders were I to admit such things as thou! Go home!'
The door closed, and Nydia, with a deep sigh, laid herself down once more on the cold stones; and, wrapping her cloak round her face, resumed her weary vigil.
