A Captive of the Roman Eagles Part 30

"What? Horrible!" cried Ausonius.

"Yes, that is true; but," the girl went on kindly and truthfully, "but then he had not yet recognized me as his uncle's friend."

"Yes, yes," groaned the Prefect. "He told me himself that a red hair had put him on your track. How often I had described you to him! And, as soon as he saw you he recognized you instantly. He wanted to bring you to me; and he--"

"And yesterday night," Rignomer put in wrathfully, "he stole into her tent with an unsheathed dagger. Unfortunately one who should have guarded it was sleeping, but the she-bear was awake, and"--he swiftly spread the full mantle open--"she tore out a piece here as he fled."

"_This_ piece," said Saturninus, drawing it from his girdle and laying it on the fresh patch; "you see it fits exactly."

"The Furies' curse on you all!" screamed Hercula.n.u.s.

"Away with them both!" the Tribune commanded. "Prosper, two of your slave-blocks! It won't do to leave them guarded in an open tent. That is always unsafe and requires the constant presence of trustworthy men, whom we cannot spare. Rignomer, you will lock them in--both feet--apart from each other. Your life will answer for it if they escape on the way."

"They shall not," growled the Batavian, who had been inexpressibly enraged by the fling at his love for Bissula, though he did not know why. "Forward!"

Led by Rignomer, the four guards and Prosper thrust the prisoners out of the tent.

CHAPTER XLIV.

The curtains had scarcely dropped behind them when Ausonius exclaimed: "He must not die! My Melania's son! He must fly into exile!"

"The Emperor will decide. But you, friend Ausonius, praise Heaven, which sent you this child. You owe your life solely to her."

The Prefect drew the young girl to the couch by his side and kissed her hands and brow. She submitted, for she was weeping. He would fain have kissed her lips too, but he forebore. The usually defiant creature was so childlike, so helpless from sheer emotion over his escape. So he only stroked her beautiful head with his hand and said, deeply moved himself: "The Christians have a superst.i.tion which I have often derided, of a guardian angel which G.o.d gives to mortals. I shall never do so again. You, Bissula, are my guardian angel!"

"But angels ought not to be slaves," remarked the Illyrian with a smile which well became his manly face. "I give you this child, Ausonius; she is your slave now. Do with her as you choose."

"I set her free, this moment. Bissula, you are free!"

"Oh, thanks, thanks, thanks!" cried the young girl exultantly, springing from the couch. "Now away,--away at once to my people,--to my grandmother,--to--"

"Not so fast, little one," interposed Saturninus. "Even the faithful, grateful freedwoman (the legal form of the act is still lacking) must obey the will of the patronus. I doubt whether he will let you fly away, you lovely little wild bird."

Bissula fixed her wonderful eyes beseechingly, imploringly, upon Ausonius, but the latter did not see it; he was gazing, rigid with amazement, at the Tribune.

"My friend--I don't understand you. Why do you so suddenly--I almost thought that you yourself--"

"Let us spare the child. I will say only this much; she can hear it without flus.h.i.+ng too deeply, and sudden blushes are so becoming to her! A man need not be a poet, my Ausonius, to find our--pardon me, your--little maid very, very charming. I don't deny it; the first time I saw her--well, she certainly would displease no one! But I soon told myself what the duty of friends.h.i.+p commanded, and remembered that my life belongs wholly to the G.o.d of war. I ordered my heart to calm my blood. They belong to a soldier, and instantly obeyed."

At these words Bissula, in spite of the warning, or perhaps on account of it, had flushed crimson and glided away from the two men. She was just slipping out of the tent; but Saturninus gently caught her by the hair, held her firmly, laughing merrily, and said: "Stay, little one.

The worst is over now, at any rate from me."

"But why," Ausonius went on, "have you all this time--Even yesterday--"

"Because I suspected your nephew's murderous designs, though only against her. I could protect her solely as her master. If she had remained, as you desired, in your tent, he could have killed the unguarded girl at any hour of the day or night. I watched her for you!

Now it is no longer necessary. Obey your heart. I will leave you alone."

"Yes, but what more is to be done?" asked Bissula plaintively, holding the Tribune--she did not know why--firmly by the arm. "I am so tired!"

she added. "Let me go to sleep now. And to-morrow, away! Back to my people!"

"Yes, my n.o.ble friend," said Ausonius, with a certain solemnity, slowly rising from his couch, "stay! I myself desire it. You shall be the first witness: my resolution is formed, unalterable! Bissula, I owe my life to you: in return there is but one reward--this life, my life itself."

The girl drew back in terror. She did not understand him.

"A slave was of course impossible. To wed even his own freedwoman is against the law for a Senator; but I shall undoubtedly receive a dispensation from the Emperor, and I care nothing for the jests of my colleagues."

"What do you want to do with me?" asked the young girl anxiously.

"Except the Caesar," Ausonius went on thoughtfully, "no man in the Western Empire stands above me; only two are of equal rank. I am Praefectus Praetorio of Gaul. Nay, more,--no one knows it yet, not even you,--my Saturninus,--the Emperor has promised me next year the highest honor in the Roman State. This coming year will take its name from me."

"You are to be Consul?" cried the Tribune, reverently.

"What is it? What does it mean?" asked the poor girl, now thoroughly frightened. The solemnity, and the numerous Roman names of dignities were becoming more and more mysterious.

But Ausonius, nodding complacently, continued: "And no living poet is my peer. Bissula, you shall share all this with me. Tomorrow you shall go with me to Vindonissa to the Emperor. Yes, yes, don't shake your defiant little head, you shall be with me all my life, for I, Ausonius, Ausonius of Burdigala, will make you my wife!"

He now drew himself up to his full height, stretching both arms to her.

With glowing cheeks, throbbing heart, and eyes flas.h.i.+ng with shame and fear and wrath, Bissula, crimsoning more and more deeply, had listened to the last words and gazed in horror at the approaching Roman. Now she uttered a loud shriek: "No! No! Never!"

Wrenching herself from Saturninus, who tried to hold her, she sprang out of the tent. Outside, panting for breath, she ran as fast as her little feet would carry her, through the dark silent camp, reached her tent, unfastened Bruna, led her in, pressed her down on the ground, flung herself beside her and, bursting into a torrent of tears, buried her face in the soft thick fur.

The faithful, intelligent animal doubtless knew that something was wrong. Licking the girl's fingers, the bear growled, a low, soft, tender growl, like a mother soothing her sick child. The monotonous, droning tone produced a drowsy influence like a lullaby. So, under the protection of the bear, though often sobbing vehemently, Bissula at last fell asleep.

BOOK THREE

THE FREEDWOMAN

CHAPTER XLV.

Ausonius was deeply grateful to his preserver, certainly; and he had wished to bestow a transcendent reward. Yet he was very keenly exasperated by this rude, fierce, foolish, nay, ungrateful disdain. And before the Tribune, too--the younger man.

This exasperation took full possession of him even amidst his deep grief for his nephew's crime. From the day of his birth neither the fates nor men had often denied any wish of this spoiled favorite of Fortune. Even the desire for poetic talent had been granted by the Muses, and, as he believed, in lavish abundance; while his contemporaries denied him no recognition, but lavished on him every honor for which he longed in any department. His imperial pupil loaded him with the highest dignities and honors in the gift of the State; he was one of the richest, most highly educated men in the Western Empire; he was agreeable, vivacious, well-bred, almost handsome in feature, and not yet very old. Thousands of the most aristocratic Roman women would have considered themselves fortunate if--

And this Barbarian girl refused him! It was incomprehensible, and he determined not to tolerate this "folly."

As she did not appear at breakfast at the usual hour, he sent Prosper for her. The old man returned without having accomplished his errand.

Bissula was not in her tent, and could not be found anywhere in the camp.

Ausonius was startled. Then he said to himself: "Oh, nonsense. She cannot possibly escape from a walled Roman camp which is guarded by a Saturninus." Yet he finished his early meal hurriedly and anxiously, and went out to look for her, alone. He wished to spare his future wife, which Bissula certainly was, the mortification of being dragged by freedmen or slaves from some hiding-place into which her silly, childish obstinacy might have led her. First he hastened to the pine-tree: in vain. She was not concealed there; now, in broad daylight, one could see through the branches distinctly. He went to her tent and entered: it was empty. But as he was leaving it again he saw the broad foot-prints of the bear, and followed the trail: it led southward, to the lake gate, the Porta Dec.u.mana. He had nearly reached it, when he met Saturninus.

"Turn back, I beg of you," said the latter kindly.