Coecus, finding that his companion had fallen asleep, set himself to
consider his plans with regard to the hapless Coelia. He held to the
opinions put forth by some of the leading heathen philosophers of that
age, that the end justifies the means, and no feeling of compunction as
to the cruel fate he designed for the young vestal entered his heart.
He was of the material of which arch-inquisitors were in after years to
be made. There would be no difficulty in that corrupt city to obtain
evidence to condemn his victim, as well as to prove that the partner of
her supposed guilt had escaped. After resting for some time, he went
forth again to make the arrangements he had determined on.
When, late in the day, Gaius awoke, he sent for his nephew, and, after
some inquiries, discovered that Jovinian and Eros had been absent since
the previous forenoon. At first he could not bring himself to believe
that they had really escaped; but his inquiries at length convinced him
of the fact, and, moreover, that Eros had been known to accompany
Jovinian to some of the Christian places of worship. "Then the wretched
slave has himself been led to embrace this new doctrine," he exclaimed.
"It may be suited to such as he; but, notwithstanding, if I can capture
him, he shall be made to pay the full penalty of his crime."
The pontiff was, in truth, as much annoyed as it was in his nature to
be; but he was disposed to vent his anger on the head of Eros rather
than on that of his nephew.
Several days passed by, and no information could he obtain as to where
the fugitives were concealed. From a few words let drop by Coecus, he
at length began to hope that he might recover Jovinian. The chief
pontiff had heard that the man he hated above all others on earth--the
presbyter Severus--was again in the neighbourhood of Rome; and from the
friendship which had existed between his sister and Eugenia, he
suspected that Jovinian, if he knew of her abode, would have gone there.
What Coecus intended to do he did not say, but the muttered threats of
vengeance in which he indulged showed the evil feelings rankling in his
bosom. Assassins were to be found, even in those days, to perform any
deed of blood required of them; vice was rampant; and crimes of all
soils were committed with comparative impunity. But Rome even thus was
purer than it became in after ages; the people had been taught to
respect the laws, criminals did not always escape the arm of justice,
and no inconsiderable Christian community, leading pure and faultless
lives, leavened the mass, and contributed to keep the heathen in check.
Coecus had to proceed with more caution than suited his bold and
impulsive character. He succeeded, however, in persuading the chief
civil authorities that there were some persons with designs dangerous to
the state concealed in the underground galleries in the neighbourhood of
the city, and in obtaining a guard of soldiers to search for them. He,
with some difficulty, obtained a guide who professed to be acquainted
with all the intricate turnings of the galleries, and, moreover, to know
Severus and Eugenia by sight. Coecus, who was well aware that
considerable danger might attend the expedition, had no intention of
accompanying it, but remained in Rome, indulging himself in the hope
that he should at length destroy his old rival, or get him into his
power, while he at the same time exulted in the idea that, from the
measures he was taking, he should prolong the existence of idolatry as
the religion of the state. One of his plans was to organise another
procession in honour of one of the gods, similar to that which has been
described; for such spectacles, he knew, were at all times attractive to
the populace, and it mattered little to them whether Bacchus, Apollo,
Venus, or any other divinity had the most prominent position in the
exhibition.
He had given directions to the vestals to prepare for the ceremony, in
which, as usual, they would be expected to take a leading part; and he
guessed that, should any besides Coelia be tainted with the new
doctrines, they would endeavour to escape appearing on the occasion.
Coelia herself remained under the strict charge of the Vestalis Maxima,
whose office was in later days to be represented by that of the mother
superior of a nunnery. The Vestalis Fausta being long past her prime,
and having spent her life within the walls of the temple, had no
interests beyond them. Her temper had become soured, her better
feelings seared; and being thus a willing instrument in the hands of the
pontiffs, she was ready to execute any act of tyranny and cruelty they
might direct. Her mind, narrowed by the dull routine of duties she had
so long performed, she was a devout worshipper of the goddess she
served; and she heard with the utmost horror and dismay that one of
those under her charge had embraced the hated doctrines of those whom
she called the atheist Nazarenes. Poor Coelia had no hope of mercy from
such a person. Marcia, finding that she herself was not suspected, kept
her own counsel, determined at all costs to rescue her friend. It was a
sore trial to her, for she felt herself guilty of dishonouring Christ
while continuing to serve in the temple of a false deity.
The pontiffs, meantime, were busily engaged in arranging the details of
the procession. Gaius troubled himself less than the other pontiffs
about the matter. He especially disliked the exertion of the long march
through the city, and he doubted whether the result would be as
satisfactory as Coecus anticipated. He was seated in the college, when
it was announced that a female slave desired to see him. He directed
that she should be admitted, when Rufina entered. Taking a bag of coin
from under her cloak, she, without hesitation advanced to where he sat.
"I have come to bring the price of one who was your slave, but desires
manumission," she said calmly, offering the bag of money to the pontiff.
"It contains thirty solidi, the full value you can claim for Eros, he
of whom I speak," she continued, seeing that Gaius did not put forth his
hand to receive the bag. "Me might have escaped beyond pursuit, and
allowed you to lose his value, but, as a Christian, he knows that such
would be wrong, and therefore I have been sent to pay it into your
hands."
"The Numidian Eros a Christian! such an idea is folly!" exclaimed Gaius,
starting up with more animation in his tone and manner than he had
hitherto shown. "If he is a Christian, he thus only adds to his crime.
The money he must have stolen--probably from me; I refuse, however, to
receive it. Let him return to the bondage from which he has escaped, or
if I discover him he will rue the consequences. And for yourself, girl,
as you have ventured in here, unless you inform me where he is hidden,
and will promise to assist in his recovery, I will detain you and punish
you as you deserve with the scourge."
"I came to do the bidding of my master; and should any harm befall me,
there is one to whom he will appeal for justice--the emperor," answered
Rufina, without betraying the slightest fear. "You dare not detain me.
Again I offer the value of your once slave, and, though you refuse, I
have fulfilled my duty, and must be gone."
Gaius was almost speechless at what he considered the unexampled
audacity of the slave girl; and as he still refused to take the bag,
Rufina, while he was considering what to do, turned, and left the hall.
Before her figure had disappeared among the marble columns he started
up, and summoning one of his attendants, often employed in secret
matters, he directed him to follow Rufina, but to keep himself
concealed, to obtain what assistance he might require and not to return
without bringing back Eros and Jovinian as his captives. The slave,
instantly comprehending what was required of him, started off to execute
his master's orders.
The pontiff sank down again upon his couch. "Though I have lost the
solidi, I shall have the satisfaction of wreaking my vengeance on the
head of the Numidian,--and, what is of more consequence, shall recover
my graceless nephew," he said to himself, stretching out his arms and
giving a yawn. "Ungrateful as he has been, I will still afford him
another chance."
On the appearance of Coecus, Gaius told him of the hopes he entertained
of recovering Jovinian and his runaway slave.
"The vile wretch of whom you speak must receive the full penalty of his
crime, or we shall have all the slaves in Rome turning Christians and
claiming their freedom," observed Coecus. "As to your nephew, the bed
of the Tiber will be the safest place to which you can consign him. The
young atheist, with the early training he has received, will never
become a trustworthy supporter of the ancient gods."
"I will try him, notwithstanding," answered Gaius; "but I have not
caught him yet."
Several more days passed by; but neither Jovinian nor Eros had been
captured, and Gaius began to fear that he had lost his money and his
revenge.
The pontiffs had been seated in conclave, and were on the point of
separating, when a message was brought to Gaius. A gleam of
satisfaction passed over his countenance.
"Stay, fathers, for a few moments," he said. "A rascally slave who,
forsooth, has taken it into his head to turn Christian, and to decamp,
moreover, with my nephew, of whom he had charge, has been captured, I
would question the vile wretch as to what has become of the youth; and
failing to draw forth the information, as I think likely, we will make
some sport of the slave before he is sent off to receive the punishment
he merits."
The countenance of Coecus exhibited a look of disgust, as if he had no
desire to be troubled in the matter; but three or four of the other
pontiffs acquiescing, Gaius directed that the Numidian should be brought
in. Eros soon appeared, heavily manacled, with a guard of four armed
men, who watched narrowly every movement he made, and kept their weapons
ready for use, as if they feared that even now he would endeavour to
escape.
The prisoner advanced with an undaunted countenance, and head erect, as
if perfectly fearless of the stern judges before whom he stood. In vain
Gaius inquired what had become of Jovinian. Eros replied that he had
parted from him outside the gates, that he had gone with a friend, and
that more about him he knew not. He acknowledged without hesitation
that he had sinned against his master in allowing the youth committed to
his charge to depart, and that he was ready to pay the penalty of his
fault. "Wretched being! you have heaped crime upon crime," exclaimed
Gaius: "you have endeavoured to escape from slavery, you have disobeyed
my commands, and, as I understand, deny the existence of the immortal
gods, and, following the example of the impious Nazarenes, refuse to
worship them."
"I worship One who is willing and able to save me, who died that I might
be set free, and who has forgiven me all my sins," answered the
Numidian.
"What blasphemy is this we hear!" exclaimed several of the pontiffs in
chorus. "He does not deny his crime, and yet talks of his sins being
forgiven. Away with him. Let the cross be his doom!"
Gains, who had no wish to lose the services of a valuable slave, pleaded
that a less severe doom than death would be sufficient, and suggested
that instead he should be subjected to the ordinary punishment inflicted
on runaway slaves--that of being hung up by the hands with weights
attached to his feet, exposed to the noonday sun till he should faint
from exhaustion. The other pontiffs, however, were inexorable. The
slave had been brought before them for trial, and his death alone would
satisfy their cruelty. Perhaps they took a secret pleasure in annoying
their brother pontiff.
Coecus decided the matter, though he had apparently taken no interest in
the discussion. "Let the wretch die the vilest of deaths. He has
dishonoured the immortal gods!" he muttered. "It may advance our cause,
as it will serve to bring into contempt the name of their founder, when
the Christians see a base slave suffering the death he was said to have
endured."
Short time was allowed to the Numidian to prepare for his doom. He was
to suffer not as a martyr, but as a runaway slave. Strictly guarded all
night, he passed it in prayer and in singing hymns to the Saviour he had
so lately learnt to love and trust. Early in the morning he was led
forth to be conducted outside the city, bearing on his shoulders a heavy
beam with a crosspiece attached, on which his arms were to be extended
till death should put an end to his sufferings.
As Eros, staggering under the heavy weight of the cross, proceeded
through the streets of Rome, many there were who looked on with horror
and dismay at the spectacle. Coecus, more thoughtful than Gaius, had
provided a guard, for he well knew that the Christians were already
sufficiently numerous and powerful to have effected a rescue should they
have discovered that he was really suffering for holding to the faith of
the Gospel. A crowd had collected, and was following, composed chiefly
of such idlers as are invariably attracted by any spectacle, though it
may even be to see a fellow-creature put to death. Gaius and some of
the other pontiffs walked at some distance behind, the motives which
induced them to come being in no way superior to that of the vulgar
mass. The condemned slave and his guards had proceeded some distance,
when a litter, preceded by a lictor, was seen approaching. It stopped,
for the crowd was too dense to allow it to pass; Eros cast up his eyes,
and met those of the vestal Marcia, horror-struck at what she saw. The
love of life, the dread of the torture prepared for him, prompted the
condemned slave. Throwing down his burden, before his guards could stop
him, he sprang towards the litter, and, clasping the vestal's feet,
claimed her protection.
"It is given," she answered. "Citizens of Rome, the right is mine, as
you all know, to set this criminal free. Let no man lay hands on him."
"He is free! he is free!" shouted several persons from among the crowd.
"The ancient laws of Rome must be supported."
The guards and some others seemed unwilling to be disappointed of their
prey, but the lictors kept them off; and some, evidently recognising
Eros as a Christian, gathering round, bore him off out of sight just as
Gaius and his companions arrived on the spot. They dared not disallow
the claim made by Marcia, for it had been the privilege of the vestals
from time immemorial, should they meet a criminal going to execution, to
demand his release, provided the encounter was accidental, and that such
was the case in this instance there appeared to be no doubt.
Marcia proceeded on her way, and Gaius, who was not altogether
displeased at the occurrence, as he hoped to recover his slave, returned
to the college.