CHAPTER XV.

Before Stephanus went through to the anteroom, where Polycharma was

waiting with the other slaves, he paused a moment to recover his

breath. He drew himself up, and his face resumed its usual expression

of supercilious indifference. He now could measure with calmer blood

the extent of his success; that which, a few minutes since, had

deprived him of his senses, now filled his spirit with elasticity,

and he told himself that he had selected, with infinite psychological

insight, the moment for realizing his long-cherished purpose--the

moment in fact, when her first meeting with her husband had shaken the

proud woman’s nature to the foundations. He believed, that the happy

result was obviously to be ascribed to this fortunate coincidence, and

this doubled his good opinion of his own judgment. His glance lingered

with supreme satisfaction on the magnificent room, the statue of Venus,

the little Eros and the purple pillows on the divans. The inarticulate

language of the smile, that played upon his thin lips, was easy to

interpret--it told of his hope ere long to rule as master in this

apartment, as the declared favorite of its lovely mistress--lovelier

and grander than the marble goddess there, and oh! a thousand times

warmer and more gracious.

He dropped his right arm, letting his white robe sweep the ground

like the mantle of an eastern prince, and went on to the anteroom. He

favored the wily Polycharma with a gracious nod, marching past the

other girls with the strut of a promoted peacock. The Sicambrian stared

at him open-mouthed.

The steward’s apartments were on the farther side of the peristyle, on

the side towards the Circus Maximus. His offices were lower down still,

on the Quirinal, where the Empress had been living since her separation

from her husband, excepting when she went every summer to her villa at

Baiae. The elaborate paraphernalia of official papers made a prompt

removal impossible, and only certain small branches of the steward’s

business had as yet been reinstated in the palace.

Stephanus went into his private room, laid aside his toga, and

stretched himself at full-length on a comfortable couch. His restless

brain was already seething with a thousand plans, which chased each

other like a flight of crows. Numbers of impressions and motives, which

hitherto had lurked unheeded, started up in his memory as possible

starting points for future operations; but foremost of all the figure

of Eurymachus, as yet irretrievably lost, occupied his thoughts. To

judge from the reports of the slaves, who had followed the fugitive,

the behavior of Quintus Claudius had been strange enough to suggest

its connection with the slave’s successful escape, even if no direct

connection existed. Stephanus dimly felt, that here lay the fulcrum

for his lever--but how could he use it? Well, he had solved harder

problems than this in his time. The son of so influential a man as the

Flamen was, no doubt, a more difficult subject to deal with than Thrax

Barbatus, whose cries had easily been drowned; still--the higher the

obstacle, the greater the triumph.

He lay gazing thoughtfully at the tips of his fingers. Wholly possessed

by the idea of avenging Domitia, he had forgotten for the moment,

that the escape of Eurymachus was of importance to him on far graver

grounds, than the use he could make of it to injure Quintus; now, this

consciousness pressed with double weight on his soul. He would have

given half his fortune, to learn that Eurymachus was silent forever.

By some accident, which to Stephanus remained an unsolved mystery,

Eurymachus had learned a momentous secret.--Supposing that now, when

he was no longer gagged, he should make himself heard--supposing he

should shout it out in the ears of the world. A hundred times did the

steward curse the fatal idea, of making the execution of his slave an

entertainment for Lycoris’ guests. Quietly strangled, or thrown into

a tank to feed the lampreys--that would have been the rational thing,

and more like his usual good sense. To be sure, hatred and rage had

spoken loudly, and Lycoris had entreated him so earnestly.--Still it

was folly, madness. Who could tell what Fate might bring out of it, if

such precious material should happen to fall into the hands of Cneius

Afranius--that cruel vampire who, for more than six months, had had

his clutches on the steward’s neck. His eyes were fixed vacantly on

the ceiling, as the long train of his crimes passed before him. Each

separate deed appeared clothed in flesh and blood, incarnate in the

form of Cneius Afranius, who seized him by the hair and dragged him

before the Senate; till, at last, the direst deed of all came forth

and cried to Heaven, till the great city shook to its foundations, and

Domitian himself, the blood-stained tyrant, hid his face in horror.

Stephanus started up.

“Be still, mad brain!” he exclaimed, striking his forehead with his

fist. “I have been too easy; a prudent man should strike and hold;

till now I only kept out of the way of the arrows of Afranius, now--let

him see to it, that he hides himself from mine. Quintus and he! The

same stroke may by good hap fall on both at once.”

He paced his room uneasily; suddenly he stood still--before him stood a

lad with soft and girlish features.

“Antinous!” cried the freedman. “You glide about like a weasel.”

“Forgive me, my lord, but I had asked three times to be admitted. I

heard you speaking to yourself....”

“You heard?”

“Not a word, my lord. You muttered through your teeth--only

disconnected words--I thought you were vexed and angry with the

slaves....”

“And you came to comfort me?” asked Stephanus smiling. “It is well that

I have you; for the next few weeks you will have heavy work on hand.

Shut the door and sit down on the couch there.”

“Heavy work?” asked the boy disconsolately. “What, am I to carry water;

or till the fields? Am I to be as miserable as the others are?”

Stephanus laughed, and patted the lad’s beardless cheek.

“Not yet, my boy. I have chosen you for something better than that.

What I have for you to do is serious and very difficult, but amusing

and interesting; and if you accomplish the task, you shall be--well,

you shall be free. Do you hear, Antinous, free? And rich besides, for I

will give you an estate....”

“My lord, you know that my devotion is boundless. Only a few hours

since I risked my life for two thousand miserable sesterces....”

“Not too rashly, I imagine. You thought that discretion was the better

part of valor!”

“Pardon me, but you are mistaken. I rushed down upon him, when he was

surrounded by his clients and slaves; and if I had not slipped away at

the very instant....”

The boy shuddered.

“What is the matter?” asked Stephanus.

“I do not know, but I shiver whenever I think of it. As I struck him, I

met his eye--so cool and contemptuous.--If at that moment he had seized

me, I should have been lost....”

“You are childish, Antinous. I am afraid, that if you are so excitable

you will not earn your freedom in a hurry.”

“What, again must I...?”

“No, his life is spared. You must do more than that.”

“More?” said the lad in astonishment.

“Aye, more, boy. Why any bandit from the Appian Way could stab him;

what I want you to do requires not only zeal, skill and courage, but

intelligence, readiness, and the craftiness of Ulysses[286]. Greek

blood flows in your veins[287]--you are at once panther and fox. You

shall hear the details in the course of the day; I shall expect you to

dinner with me here in the study. Enough for the present. Now tell

me where you have been so long? You had no sooner told me that your

blow had missed, than, you rushed away again. I waited in vain ... you

really abuse my kindness....”

“Oh! my lord, are you angry?” said the boy coaxingly. “Indeed, if I

sinned, it was not from insolence, but from fear. I felt irresistibly

driven to his house; I mixed with the people, that I might learn

whether information had reached the prefects of the attack upon him....”

“Well?”

“Up to the present hour no one knows of it. Quintus Claudius seems

inclined to keep it a secret. Even the gate-keeper, whom I began to

talk to....”

“Are you mad?” interrupted Stephanus. “Do you want to find yourself

imprisoned and crucified?”

“Nay, my lord. Antinous does not go to work so clumsily. When I stopped

to talk to the gate-keeper, I was in girl’s clothes.”

“It is all the same; the whole thing was aimless.”

“Not altogether, an accident rewarded my daring. Only think, as I was

standing there talking over the weather--he took me, as sure as I am

alive, for some street hussy--a woman came towards us through the

ostium, with an old man with a snow-white beard. As soon as I saw her,

I knew her to be that saucy Euterpe, who so often played the flute

for us at Baiae; do you not remember? The pretty girl from Cumae, who

always looked so shy and stupid, when you praised her shape....”

“Well, and what does she matter to me?”

“Euterpe? nothing whatever; but the old man.--As they came past us, a

vague remembrance crossed my mind. I said to myself: I must surely

know that man. Then he used some little gesture, and at once I had

found the trace. It was none other than Thrax Barbatus, that obstinate

fool who wanted, a little while since, to force his way in to see

you....”

“Thrax! with Quintus Claudius?” cried the steward horrified. “Ah! I

understand now! Claudius and Afranius are plotting together, to restore

the old idiot to his rights. The Flamen’s son has long honored me with

his hatred. A reason the more, for disarming and disabling him....”

Then he suddenly checked himself, pushed his fingers through his hair,

and scowled.

“Listen,” he began eagerly. “I have an idea. Was it not Euterpe, who

troubled herself so much about Eurymachus, when I had him flogged?”

“To be sure, Euterpe, the pretty Cumaean! He was supposed to be her

lover, and while he was laid up she brought him herbs and salves; and

she cried....”

Stephanus drew a deep breath.

“What more do you know of all this?”

“Very little,” said Antinous. “In Baiae I had something better to

do, than to trouble myself about anything so commonplace as the love

affairs of a flute-playing hussy. At any rate, the noble Eurymachus

does not seem to have been very eager. Astraeus heard him once scolding

her soundly.”

“Why?”

“It had something to do with her salves and ointments. She had bought

the stuff of some Egyptian magician, and that vexed her lover....”

Stephanus nodded, and a gleam of malicious satisfaction lighted up his

vulture face.

“Ah! I was not mistaken,” he muttered between his teeth; then, turning

to the slave, he added: “And is that all you learnt from Astraeus?”

“All.”

“Very good, then I will question him myself; I foresee great results.

Go now, Antinous; my head whirls with a multiplicity of wonderful

possibilities. Claudius, Afranius, Thrax, Euterpe--you must watch them

all with the eye of an Argus.”

“My lord, your confidence in me makes me vain. You have only to

command, and I will obey. I will climb the Capitol like the invading

Gauls[288]; I will dive to the depths of the sea and bring you a

message from Thetis.[289] But then, do not forget your promise.”

“I will keep it,” replied Stephanus, stroking the lad’s cheek. “Freedom

and gold are the charms, that give wings to your services.”

“You are the kindest master[290] in the whole Roman Empire! Farewell.”

He nodded to Stephanus with saucy familiarity, danced across the room

with a graceful step, leaped lightly over one of the broad couches, and

slipped out of the door like an eel.

“Hail, all hail to thee, Quintus!” Stephanus muttered mockingly. “This

is a better beginning, than I dared to hope for. And if Fortune

continues to favor me, I will raise on this foundation such a structure

as you need not disdain to take your pleasure in.”

FOOTNOTES:

[286] THE CRAFTINESS OF ULYSSES. Ulysses, Ulixes, (Odysseus,) the

hero of the Homeric Odyssey, was considered in tradition,

after Homer’s day, as the type of craft and cunning, while

Homer presents him in a more ideal light.

[287] GREEK BLOOD FLOWS IN YOUR VEINS. Among the Romans, the Greeks

had the reputation of resembling in character the Ulysses

described after Homer’s day. Next to the Orientals, they were

the most hated of all the dwellers in the provinces.

[288] I WILL CLIMB THE CAPITOL LIKE THE INVADING GAULS. The

(unsuccessful) attempt to take the beleaguered Capitol by

storm, made by the Gauls, as is well known, in the year 389

B.C. after they had defeated the Roman army at the little

river Allia.

[289] THETIS, daughter of Nereus, lived with her sisters, the

Nereids, in the depths of the ocean. She personified the

friendly character of the sea, as Poseidon did its destructive

and terrible one.

[290] YOU ARE THE KINDEST MASTER. The epithet “kind” (_dulcis_)

is often used in this application to superiors and those in

higher position. Thus Horace in the well-known first ode of

the first book addresses Maecenas: _O et praesidium et dulce

decus meum_....