The way before Jovinian was now unknown, and he had to walk with the
greatest caution. He might meet with some pit, or hole, or flight of
steps, or the gallery might turn off abruptly to the right or left. He
had heard that persons had been lost in these galleries, and wandered
about for days, unable to find their way out, when they had sunk down
from hunger and fatigue, and died. These were, however, heathens who
had gone in pursuit of the Christian fugitives. The God of the
Christians, he knew, would be watching over him; he, therefore, had no
cowardly fears, but went forward in the full confidence that he would be
protected.
Even with a torch the undertaking would have been a difficult one. It
appeared to him that he had gone on for half an hour or more. Every now
and then he shouted out, in the hope that Severus might hear him; but no
answer came to his cries, except an occasional echo from the galleries
on either hand. He remembered that he and his friends had proceeded a
considerable distance before they encountered the soldiers, so that it
must of necessity take him a long time to get back. He was surprised
that Severus and the fossor had not come to look for him, feeling
confident that he was following the gallery they had taken. How much
longer he wandered on he could scarcely tell. At times he felt almost
inclined to sit down in despair; but then he said to himself, "He who
watches over Israel neither slumbers nor sleeps; I will trust to Him,"
and with renewed courage he went on. Although he might not discover the
abode of Gentianus, or find his way out of the catacomb, he was sure to
encounter some of the persons who might come to visit the tombs of the
martyrs, or to pray at the graves of their relatives, and they would
certainly render him all the assistance in their power.
It also occurred to him that other parties might have been sent in
search of Gentianus and Severus, and it would be dangerous to fall into
their hands.
He might conceal himself, however, should he discover any
suspicious-looking persons approaching. He was too anxious to
experience any sensation of hunger; but he at length began to feel very
weary. He fancied, indeed, that he must already have been groping his
way for several hours. If so, he could hardly have proceeded in a
straight line, and might, for aught he could tell, be actually turning
back in the direction from which he had come. "Had I myself only to
depend on, such might be the case!--but the God of love and mercy will
lead me; I will trust Him," he exclaimed.
Becoming accustomed to the darkness, he found that he could move much
faster than at first, and, with his hands stretched out, the instant his
fingers came in contact with the rock, he was able easily to avoid it.
At length his feet struck against a slab of stone. It was the facing of
a tomb, which had never been placed in its intended position. This
showed him that he was in a part of the galleries likely to be visited,
and reminded him also that he might probably stumble over other similar
impediments.
He sat down to rest, at the same time listening for a sound which might
assist to guide him, should persons perchance be in any of the
neighbouring galleries. He had sat thus for some time, and was on the
point of moving onwards, when a faint cry reached his ear; it came from
the direction towards which he had been proceeding, he had gone a few
paces, when he saw a light streaming along the gallery, on the left. He
hurried towards it. As he approached the spot from whence the light
shone forth, he observed that it issued from a lantern held by a female,
whom he recognised as Rufina. Another female was bending over a person
who lay stretched on the ground. The first was Julia, the other
Eugenia, whom she appeared to be endeavouring to restore to animation,
uttering, at the same time, expressions of grief and endearment. "Oh,
mother! mother! speak to me," she exclaimed. "Revive! the danger is
over; we have escaped our pursuers, and are safe here!" So engaged were
Julia and Rufina in their efforts to recall Eugenia to consciousness
that they had not heard Jovinian approach. Rufina, her ear catching the
sound of footsteps, at length perceived him. At first she cast towards
him a look of alarm, but discovering who he was, she uttered an
exclamation of joy. "Here is Jovinian, dear lady," she exclaimed; "your
husband Severus cannot be far off, and we shall be able to escape from
the wretches who were following us." From what Jovinian heard, he knew
that Severus and his guide must still be wandering about the galleries,
or else that they had been overtaken by some of the parties sent to
capture them. Unwilling, however, to deprive his friends of the hopes
Rufina had endeavoured to raise, he did not express his fears; but,
kneeling down by the side of Eugenia, he tried to assist Julia and
Rufina in restoring her to animation.
"There is a fountain near," he said; "I heard the sound of the water
bubbling forth as I came along: very likely a cup or basin may have been
left near it to enable passers-by to drink; let me take the lantern, and
I will quickly return."
"Oh, go! go!" said Julia; "we shall not fear to remain in darkness."
He was not disappointed in his expectations; a small metal cup was
placed in a niche by the side of the rock, out of which the water
bubbled forth, making its escape by some hidden course beneath the
ground. This showed that the gallery must be frequently visited.
Jovinian hastened back with the cool liquid, with which Julia bathed her
mother's brow and lips, pouring a small quantity down her throat.
Julia thanked him more by her looks than with her lips. "Oh, see! she
is reviving now," she exclaimed.
After a short time Eugenia was able to sit up, and declared herself
strong enough to proceed, should it be necessary.
"We are as safe here as in any other part of the gallery," observed
Rufina. "Should any person approach, we can seek for shelter in one of
the many passages which turn off close to us."
Eugenia's first inquiry was for her husband.
"I trust that he is safe," answered Jovinian; and he then described how
he had been parted from him. His answer appeared rather to increase
than to calm Eugenia's alarm. Jovinian now inquired of Rufina what had
caused them to take to flight; for he was unwilling to question either
Julia or her mother, who was, indeed, little able to answer him.
"It was I who have been the instrument in God's hands of warning them of
the dangers with which they were threatened, and of assisting them to
escape from their heathen enemies," answered Rufina. "It happened in
this wise: Eros had ventured forth, unwisely as it proved, from his
hiding-place, when he was captured by some emissaries of your uncle
Gaius. We mourned him as lost, feeling sure that his life would be
sacrificed to the vengeance of the pontiff. We were not mistaken: he
was doomed to be crucified. The night before he was to suffer, when it
was believed by his guards that he would never again hold communication
with his fellow-creatures, he sat with heavy chains on his legs and
arms; they, either supposing him to be asleep, or not caring whether he
heard or not, began to talk of various projects on foot; some of those,
which only showed in what vile offices they were engaged, were matters
of indifference to him. At length, however, they spoke of a design for
the destruction of Gentianus and Severus. They hoped to obtain a
guide--one well acquainted with the galleries, a recreant to the faith
of the Gospel--and by his means they felt sure of accomplishing their
object.
"What he heard brought deep grief to the heart of Eros. A slave bound
in chains and expecting to die on the morrow, he could render no
assistance to the noble patrician who was thus placed in such fearful
jeopardy, and about whom I had so often spoken to him." Rufina then
described how the life of Eros had been saved by the vestal Marcia. "As
soon as he was at liberty," she continued, "he hastened to me, and told
me what he had heard--I being better able to warn our friends than any
one he knew. There was not a moment to be lost, he said, for that very
day the assassins would set out on their search. Eros offered to
accompany me; but this I declined, and hastened as fast as my feet would
convey me to the entrance of the galleries. After much difficulty I
found the ladies, Eugenia and Julia, with the patrician Gentianus; I
warned them of the approach of the assassins, entreating Gentianus to
fly with his daughter and Julia.
"`I should only impede them,' he answered. `Rufina, I charge you
conduct them to a place of safety; I will remain here; I am prepared for
whatever Heaven will allow my enemies to do.'
"In vain we pleaded with him. He made his commands imperative on us.
`Seek for Severus, and warn him,' he added; `his life is of more value
than mine; he may still live to preach the Gospel and to exhort sinners
to turn to the Saviour.' Again he charged us to fly, in a way we could
not disobey; and Eugenia, who had ever implicitly followed his commands,
taking Julia by the hand, accompanied me in the direction I considered
the safest.
"Scarcely had we left the gallery when we heard the shouts of the
assassins, as, led by their treacherous guide, they burst into the
long-concealed chamber. I judged by their voices that they were
expressing their disappointment at not discovering Severus. The guide,
either knowing his way no farther, or having performed what he had
undertaken, must have refused to lead them on, for they did not follow
us, as I feared they would have done. I could not leave Eugenia and
Julia, or I would have retraced my steps, and endeavoured to ascertain
the direction they had taken. Judging by the sounds I heard, I believed
that, dreading to remain in the gallery, they had endeavoured to regain
the upper world."
Jovinian trusted that such might be the case; but greatly feared they
were more likely to have gone in search of Severus. He offered to try
and find his way to the abode of Gentianus, if Rufina could give him
sufficient directions. "I have been so many hours moving in the dark
that I do not fear to make the attempt," he said, "and the lamp hanging
to the roof, which it is not likely has been extinguished, will guide me
when I approach the chamber."
Eugenia, deeply anxious to know what had occurred to her father, gladly
accepted Jovinian's offer.
"Oh that I might go with, you!" said Julia, taking his hand.
"No," said Rufina; "it will be far safer for you to go alone." And she
then proceeded to give him such directions as he believed would enable
him to direct his course aright.
He set out, counting his steps, that he might not fail to know the
distance he had traversed. More than once he stopped, fearing that he
had missed his way; but, feeling the importance of his errand, he
persevered in his endeavour, and so well did he remember his directions,
that he made no mistake. At length he reached the entrance to the
gallery which led to the chamber. It had been left open by Rufina, who
had been unable to shut it, and at the farther end he saw the faint
light of the lamp still burning. He stopped and listened. No sound
reached his ear. He feared that the assassins, disappointed at not
finding their chief victim, had wreaked their anger on the head of his
aged father-in-law. He hurried forward as he approached the chamber,
hoping to see Gentianus still seated in his chair; but the chair was
empty. In another minute he was kneeling beside the old man, who was
stretched his length on the ground. Jovinian at first thought that
Gentianus was dead; but as he lifted up the head of his venerable
friend, the few faint words uttered by Gentianus showed him that he was
still conscious.
"Have they escaped?" he asked; "have my beloved Eugenia and Julia been
preserved from the daggers of the assassins? And Severus,--can you give
me news of him, my son? or have their cruel weapons struck him down?"
Jovinian replied that he had but just left Eugenia and Julia, and
trusted that Severus, being accompanied by the fossor, would have been
enabled to conceal himself from the assassins, even should they have
gone in pursuit of him. "But can I render you no aid?" he continued;
"let me endeavour to staunch the blood which flows from your side."
"It is too late now," answered Gentianus; "you must not attempt to move
me. I know not how many daggers entered my body, though the hands of
those who desired my death failed to strike home. I would forgive them,
as I would also the relentless foe by whom they were despatched on their
bloody errand. Hasten back, my son, and bring my beloved daughter and
child; I would thankfully see them once more ere I die."
Jovinian rose to obey the commands of Gentianus. As he did so he heard
footsteps approaching. Stopping a moment, he recognised Severus and the
fossor. "Heaven has sent you assistance!" he said, again kneeling down
by the side of his wounded friend. Ere long Severus joined him, and
they together endeavoured to ascertain the injuries received by the old
man.
"It is useless," said Gentianus; "you cannot for long prolong my life,
and I am willing to depart, and to be with Christ. Go, Jovinian, summon
my beloved daughter and her child; I would speak to them again ere my
spirit wings its flight to Him who has gone before to prepare a place
for me."
Severus, struck with horror at what he saw, had scarcely spoken, nor had
he time to inquire by whom Gentianus had been wounded; but the words he
heard assured him that his wife and daughter were still safe.
Jovinian would have gone alone, but the old fossor, who carried a
lantern, at a sign from Severus, accompanied him, and he was thus able,
much more speedily than otherwise would have been the case, to return to
where he had left his female friends.
He endeavoured to prepare Eugenia and Julia for what had occurred, his
heart at the same time beating with gratitude to Heaven for enabling
them to escape the fearful danger to which they had been exposed. What
had caused the assassins to retreat he could not tell; but he dreaded
that they might return, and discover Severus. He resolved, therefore,
to advise his friend to seek immediately some other place of
concealment.
Gentianus was still conscious when they regained the chamber; indeed, he
appeared to have somewhat recovered his strength. His daughter and
grandchild threw themselves down beside him, and assisted Severus in
supporting his head.
"Do not mourn over me, my children," he said, taking Eugenia's hand.
"The days of my pilgrimage were naturally drawing to a close; God in His
mercy has allowed them to be somewhat shortened, and has saved me from
witnessing the result of the corruptions and errors which have crept in
among our brethren at Rome in consequence of their departure from the
clear teaching of the blessed Gospel. They having neglected the light
which was in them, it is becoming darkness. I see it but too plainly,--
the greed of riches and power possesses the hearts of many of those who
should have been the humble overseers of Christ's flock; and the
presbyters and deacons but too willingly support them, for the sake of
sharing the wealth they seek to acquire.
"Many rejoice that the emperor supports the Christians, and has bestowed
worldly rank and dignity on the overseers and presbyters; but I warn
you, my children, that he is a far greater foe to the true Church of
Christ than those monarchs who have been deemed its greatest
persecutors. Oh, let me charge you, my beloved ones, to cling closely
to the simple Gospel! Be living stones of the temple of which Christ is
the chief corner-stone! Let not Satan succeed in inducing you, with the
offer of wealth, dignity, or honours, to depart from the truth.
Endeavour by God's grace to stem the tide, and never cease to protest
against the errors and corruptions which have crept in among those who
have a name to live, but are dead. Seek for guidance and direction with
prayer and supplication, and, if you find that you cannot succeed, go to
some other land, and preach the truth of the Gospel among its heathen
inhabitants; ground them soundly in the faith, teaching them that there
must be no compromise, that they must turn to the true God, and worship
Him in spirit and truth through Christ, abandoning all their idolatrous
practices, that they must live as Christians lived in the apostolic
days, not looking to emperors, or rulers, or men great in the world's
eye for support, but to Christ the risen One alone."
"With God's grace I will follow your counsel," said Severus, to whom
Gentianus had stretched out his hand. Jovinian also took it, and with
deep earnestness repeated the same words.
"Now, my children, I feel myself sinking. My beloved Eugenia, I leave
you with confidence under the protection of Severus." Then, taking
Julia's hand, he placed it in that of Jovinian. "May heaven give you
life and strength, and may you, together, fight the good fight of faith,
and prove a blessing to each other, as God, in His loving-kindness, has
ordained that those united with His will shall ever be to one another."
Jovinian pressed Julia's hand. "With her, I promise, thankfully and
joyfully, to obey your wishes," he said.
Thus were Jovinian and Julia betrothed.
The old man continued to address those grouped around him, while Rufina
and the fossor kept watch at the two entrances to the chamber.
The voice of Gentianus grew fainter and fainter. It ceased at last, and
his children knew that his spirit had departed.